Newzoids (2015) s01e06 Episode Script
Episode 6
1 Come to bed, darling.
Hope you're in the mood.
I'm always in the mood! Bah! What? Time for a bit of coitus non-interruptus! What? What the blazes do you think you're doing? Well, Dave, you did say you'd be stepping aside at some point.
I thought think, "Tempus fugit, time for yours truly to take over DUTIES at No.
10!" You can't swan in and take my place! I've got five years of vital government chillaxing to do! Very well.
I'm always here if you need me.
And if you don't.
Just get out.
Message received.
Incomprehensible classical reference.
The Johnsonator has left the building.
Don't suppose there's any chance of a threesome? Ugh! No.
Ah.
No.
Well, this is a truly remarkable piece, an utterly unique artefact, from the birthplace of human civilisation.
I'd say it was over 4,000 years old.
How much is it worth? It's impossible to put a price on it.
It's totally irreplaceable.
Death to false idols! Bah! That's all from the Antiques Roadshow, Syria.
Next week we'll be in Appledore, in Devon.
See you then.
(GRUNTS) What period would you say he's from? Definitely the Dark Ages.
(FIRES) (GASPS) Has he gone? Yes.
I think we finally got rid of him.
Thank heavens for that.
Argh! I'm back from the dead! (SCREAMS) Takes more than a few knives in the back to kill Nige off! Get out! Get out! GET OUT! Ah! UKIP man, eh? He's a zombie! No, just a good old-fashioned British hangover.
Nothing a full English won't sort, eh, love? (SLAP) Ow! How do we get rid of him? Can't.
I'll be around for 20 years.
Try bashing his brains out with a sledgehammer.
Or wait till the booze and fags kill him.
That might be quicker.
Mine's a pint.
Of Brains! (BURPS) She's Mrs Crown 'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mrs Crown's Boys!' '(CHEERING)' Ah, there you are, my loyal plebs.
It's me, off the stamps - or, as I like to call them, selfies.
You must excuse me.
I've got a house full of idle layabouts, as usual.
I suppose you want me to pour your tea, Camilla.
Yes please, Ma'amy.
Just how you like it.
A drop of milk and a fucking load of whisky.
Chas and I had a row.
He's not talking to me.
That's odd.
I thought he liked talking to vegetables.
He's in a bad mood because of his fecking letters.
How did the press get hold of them? I'm guessing from the fecking bin.
They'll make everyone think I'm a cantankerous old bore.
So no change there, then.
You keep out of this! I don't know why you're wasting your fucking time banging on about endangered species.
I love the Patagonian tooth fish! Yes, so do I! It is fucking delicious! Ergh! You're going to get one of my angry letters! Good, because we've run out of bog roll.
(SIGHS) Good night, plebs.
Ha ha ha.
(APPLAUSE) # INTRO: The Lion Sleeps Tonight # A wimoweh, a wimoweh # A wimoweh, a wimoweh Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Quack quack quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo! (BANG) It's Britain's Got Tories! (CHEERING AND APPLAUSE) Hello.
My name's - Get on with your sob story.
Well, I'm here tonight for my grandma.
ALL: Aw! Oh, good start! She had a stroke, but there are no hospital beds or money for a carer.
(BUZZER) It's a no from me.
We've all got to make sacrifices.
Oh yes.
This is non-vintage! Blergh! Next.
I'm from London.
My domestic violence refuge has been closed down and my ex-partner - (BUZZER) Look, everyone - I've fallen over! (LAUGHTER) What a character! Next.
I am pregnant, and I just escaped genocide in Darfur.
(BUZZER) My face isn't moving, but you are.
Deport her.
That's a bit harsh.
Next.
Hello.
My father's dying, and he's a multi-millionaire.
I'm worried I may have to pay a tiny bit of tax on the fortune I'm going to inherit.
(ALL SOB) It's the saddest story I ever heard.
You are an aspirational role model! That gets my Golden Buzzer.
Have some more money on us! (CHEERING AND APPLAUSE) Next patient, please.
Ah! A fine good morning to you, doctor and physician, sire.
Please take a seat, Miss Hart.
Verily I shall the seat take.
Thanking you, doctore.
Oof! Gratuitous extra shot of me.
Miranda, I assume it's about your chronic problem with balance? What problem with balance? (THUNK) More what I call "shots of me.
" Let's have a look-see.
Do I need to take my clothes off? Please say yes.
I think I can see the problem.
Just hold still for a minute.
(POP!) Ouchington! There you go.
It's a marble.
Heavens to Betsington! Must have been there for years.
I lost my marbles yonks ago.
(Funny marbles joke.
) Now try taking a few steps for me.
I'll give it what I call "a go".
No trip, no dive, no pratfall.
Yes.
You're cured! Cured? I'm stuffed! My career's ruined! Give me back that marble! (POP!) Ah, that's better.
Whoopsie! (THUNK) Hurrah! Such fun! 'In a world gone crazy for oil' Get your pound's worth of black gold! '.
.
they came from across the border' Can't I be at the wheel for once? '.
.
they crushed all who stood in their way' Love the SNP.
Actually the Lib Dems did this to me.
We're taking over! Whoo-hoo! '.
.
Mad Macs.
' Look, I'm always willing to negotiate.
Negotiate this! Oof! Why can't I do any of the fun stuff? 'Mad Macs, coming to Westminster, very soon.
' Oh, Cara, love your new selfie stick.
That's my arm.
Oh yeah! Ha-ha! Nice one.
So, Sherlock, who do you think did it? From the angle of the knife in his chest, the unusual blood pooling, and the time his watch stopped I have absolutely no idea.
(BEEP) A text from a mystery source! This could be our breakthrough.
Bugger - more spam.
So you've no idea who's behind this? No.
I've tried to get unsubscribed, but you never reach the call centre.
(BEEP) No! God give me strength! Bloody spam! Enough! I can't think! (CLATTER) Ugh! Agh! That's better.
What? Hang on - he's got a phone! Come with me, constable.
A serial killer's loose.
Really? Yes - me! I'm going to find out who's responsible for these texts and kill every bloody one of them.
Ho ho! Let's do it! High five! # The Star-Spangled Banner You don't want me to pick up the dry cleaning, Michelle? I got nothing else to do.
Hell, I even started a Twitter account.
(SIGHS) OK, honey.
Bye.
Whoa! Sir! I have something I need you to see, urgently.
Urgent? Great! Fantastic! Let's do this! (WHOOSH) (BEEPING) Oh.
Sweet.
# THEME TO "FRIENDS" It's an old episode of Friends.
I know, Mr President, sir.
But it's a really great one.
Phoebe gets a recording contract.
I guess I do like the Phoebe episodes.
(CHUCKLES) Hello, and welcome to the show where we have a good poke around people's intimate bits.
And someone who's done more than his fair share of that is Russell Brand.
Greetings and salutifications! Now, what seems to be the problem? Me tummy-wummy is a source of excruciating woe! Me bowel movements have all but terminated, causing me to perambulate in a right unorthodox manner.
Well, I think I know what the problem is here.
I've had a look at your x-rays, and .
.
you're absolutely, totally, full of shit.
Well, that explainifies everything.
Want to see my abs? How very meterosexual! Hello! I'm Kay Burley, dredging the sewer of news for the sweetcorn of human misery.
With me is Prince Harry.
Hello! So, Coppernob, you want to bring back national service? Yah! The army made me the man I am today.
A rich, unemployed waster? Bit harsh.
Actually, I think it's a brilliant idea.
Great! More grieving relatives for me to shove a microphone in front of.
Wah! I thought the Taleban were scary! (GROWLING) Earth creatures, we have travelled countless light years to visit your planet.
Oh, I shouldn't have taken that funny tablet in Ibiza.
Take me to your leader.
Well, um, that's a bit tricky at the moment.
Labour haven't actually got one.
I need to see your leader.
Well, the selection process has been changed since last time.
Why have they changed it? To make sure they don't end up choosing the wrong leader.
Again.
You look familiar.
Are you also from Zebulon 4? Uh, Primrose Hill.
Ooh! Sounds posh.
Well, if you have no leader, we will be forced to destroy you.
No need.
We're doing that to ourselves.
I'm afraid your mission is pointless.
At least I tried.
(GROANS) Tell him he can come in now.
Oi - that's my line.
Now, what do MI6 want from me? Lord Sugar, your country needs your help to defeat Isis.
What's the plan? Me and Andy McNab parachuting behind enemy lines? Stab 'em in the back, like I did with Labour? Love it.
Not quite, Lord Sugar.
We were thinking of sending in your apprentices.
Eh? They'll infiltrate and destroy Isis from within.
But my apprentices are a bunch of naive, egotistical idiots.
So they'll blend in seamlessly at Isis.
Genius! Within weeks of your apprentices joining, the terrorists will turn on each other, riven with infighting .
.
and they'll divert all their energy into arguing over new ice cream flavours and designing unsellable kids' toys.
Exactly.
Count me in.
Where do I sign? Don't use that pen - urghhh! Pen - you're fired.
(MOANS) (THUD) Wa-hoo! Gah! Right! Five minutes to sort out this week's London mayor's agenda.
All right, hats.
Ready for action.
What's the mayor's next big idea? Build - bah.
Bovine - bah.
Power station - bah.
In Leicester Square? I'm on it, boss! Tippity-top! Off to the MP job now.
Hurrah! Wa-hey! Oof! (CLATTER) Natalie, need some mouth-to-mouth.
(THUD) (APPLAUSE) Welcome back to The Cube.
'The Cube.
' Thank you.
Tonight, taking the challenge of The Cube - 'The Cube!' Enough! - it's Wayne Rooney.
All right, Mr Schofield? Wayne, who's supporting you tonight? It's me Uncle Roy.
Come on now, Wayne.
You can do this.
Well, Wayne, let's hear your challenge tonight.
'You have 90 minutes to get this ball into this goal.
' So are you ready to face the challenge of The Cube? 'The Cube.
' I already SAID The Cube! 'The Cube.
' (GROWLS) Er I don't understand the rules.
Wayne, my boy, let me simplify it for you.
Ball.
Kick.
Goal.
Oh.
Why didn't he just say that? Wayne, it's time to go into the Square Shaped Thing.
'The Square Shaped Thing!' Argh! Oof! Ow! Come on, Wayne.
Regroup.
Get in the box! Your time starts now.
'Now.
' Oh, no.
Disaster! Uncle Roy? No, I think there's still a lot of positives to be taken from tonight's performance.
For instance, I'm having a nice free night out in a warm studio, so I turned off the boiler at home - although I am missing the bingo.
The bingo? 'The Bingo!' (SNARLS) There! I've finished my book! Wow, that was quick, David! You only started reading it five minutes ago.
I wasn't reading one, Simon.
I was writing one! Of course you were (!) (PHONE RINGS) Ooh, nice ring, Simon.
What am I like? Hello? 'Hello.
Kim Jong-Un here!' How may I help you? 'You, I like.
You also are ruthless despot, with trademark outfit and not-at-all stupid hairstyle.
' You're very kind.
But I don't like the way you got rid of Louis Walsh.
'Next time I suggest you use an anti-aircraft gun.
' Good idea.
'Now, I want to pick your brains.
' I devise brilliant new television format, North Korea's Got Talent! Now, tell me how your show works.
Well, first, you're gonna need some talent.
Don't forget to enter a boy band! Ooh! Good idea.
I will call it Un Direction.
Maybe a talking dog? Yes! Dog could say, "Please don't eat me!" Great! All you need now is a public vote.
What? You let people vote?! 'It's a no from me!' I like him.
Do you want to know why? Is it because he's a massive knob? Ooh, you're a mind reader.
You should be on the show! Booyakashah! I'm Evan Davis, and my favourite band is a band you've not even heard of - that's how shitting cool I am.
On tonight's all-new, definitely-not-pandering to-the-after-pub-crowd Newsnight, we're rebranding as Boozenight .
.
the BBC's flagship political drinking game.
Listen, Evan, the first thing I'll do if I become leader is to show that Labour is the party of aspiration.
Ah, drink! Drink! Shit! I said aspiration! Shit, I said aspiration again! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Ha ha ha ha ha! (SLURS) And tonight's big question do you think Newsnight is dumbing down? Text in A for yes, B for no, X to make Cheggers do the Bushtucker trial, star-ampersand for extra pepperoni, or just scrawl your answer across the screen in crayon.
I love you, you know, you're my best (SNORES) (WHIMPERS) Now what do you say? No, no! You can't make me! Last chance! OK.
OK.
Stop.
I'll do it! I'll be the leader of the Liberal Democrats.
(EVIL LAUGHTER) Lay-lady-lay.
Do my trademark steely blue eyes deceive me, or is that a parking ticket? Sorry, it's a double yellow line.
Did I mention I'm TV's Paul Hollywood? So? Pie-maker to the stars, with the jungle musk of a randy orangutan? Smell that.
Ew.
Sorry.
Can't revoke a ticket once issued.
Can't, won't, or might, if this was a desert island, your husband was dead, and I was rustling you up a sponge cake in a coconut codpiece? Hm, hm! If you don't like it, you should have parked elsewhere.
I admit, officer, I've been a very bad boy.
You'd better punish me.
(GRUNTS) Oof! Right in the profiteroles.
Is he trying to pull the sexy Mr Kipling act again? Come on, Paul.
Stop embarrassing yourself and let's get you home.
Ohh! In the nick of time, Mary.
She was gagging to take down my particulars.
You really are a deluded old tart, aren't you, Paul? Why's that? You want to dip your finger in my icing? (WHOOSH) Oof! You've seen the TV show.
Oh, good grief! I can't look, I can't look! You've Googled the website.
Tina, Tina, come and see the size of this goitre! It's time for the inevitable! Embarrassing Bodies Live Tour! Hello, Wembley! (CHEERING) Yes, it's Dr Christian Jessen! Want to see some crusty warts? (CHEERING) With all your favourite body deformities and excruciating illnesses live on stage! It's Dr Christian at his very best.
Do rectal bleeding! (CHANTING) Haemorrhoids! Haemorrhoids! Haemorrhoids! Whether you want to gawp at foot fungus, stare at ingrowing hairs or just ogle my rippling torso - probably the last one, am I right? - this is the live show for you! Thank you, madam.
And I can tell you, you've got crab lice.
The Embarrassing Bodies Live Tour.
Coming soon.
One, two, one, two He's got two penises! (CHEERING) # (BAGPIPES PLAY) I like what you've done with your new office, Alex.
It's no good, Nicola.
I can't wait.
I want independence, and I want it now! I can't stand this master-servant relationship any longer.
It's got to end! Patience.
We'll leave England soon enough.
England?! I want independence from you! I want to be in charge! Bollocks! Eh? I can see your bollocks.
Ooh! Now shut up and fetch me some Tunnock's teacakes! Yes, boss Oh, ya bastard! (CRASH) (APPLAUSE) More applause! Don't stop till your palms bleed! Right.
Welcome back to The Me Show.
This week we've found a charming individual who's only gone and fathered 75 children (AUDIENCE GASPS) .
.
by no fewer than 23 women - or as he calls them, bitches.
Let's bring him on.
Here, boy! (BOOING) Who said you could sit on the chair? Ruff! Row! Right.
It's not the first time I thought a guest should be neutered, but today we're going to do it! (GULPS) Live! In the studio! Pass the scissors.
I'll do it myself.
You know I would! (WHIMPERS) (BOOING) What a lovely welcome.
It's nice to be back.
It gives me great pleasure to declare this new A&E facility open.
Give us a smile, George! Don't know how to.
Well, let's see it! This way, Mr Osborne.
Here it is, the new Accident and Emergency Unit.
Fully equipped, I see.
Well, it's got Elastoplasts, paracetamol, Lemsips, a DIY defibrillator.
Coin-operated? It is, yes.
Excellent.
Just what the doctor ordered.
No, the doctors ordered something else.
You cancelled it and ordered this.
Cutty, cutty, snip, snip! It's also stocked with some transplant organs.
What's that? It's a heart, Mr Osborne.
Some people find them useful.
Really? Now, where's my new streamlined urology and gastroenterology ward? Just here.
Marvellous.
Cutty, cutty, snip, snip! Oi, oi, Saveloy! # (TO THE TUNE OF) BLUR: 'Park Life' # I get up in the morning, look out my window # And start what is known # As royal # Park life # A servant changes me nappies, brings me a Stella, # And I think about leaving the Palace # Now that's not a # Bad life # I feed the peacocks # I sometimes feed the swans too # Fattening 'em up for my # Sharp knife # Lovely bit of swan! # Who's that bald bloke whinging? You cut down on that organic bollocks, get some kebabs down yer.
# All you people # You common people # Hard graft every day # Don't you wish you had # My life? You know you want it! # Mum married her way out of the ghetto - well, the Home Counties # That's what you call a # Smart wife # Since when it's all been going cushty # Till I was rudely awakened by my baby sister # Tough life # Charlotte's a right pain # She only went and got all my readies wet Just as we started Bath time Proper moist! # I wanna travel the world like me Uncle Harry # Kissing all the girls They love a bit of it # All you people # You common people # You could have a piece of this # One day you could be My wife Oi-Oi! Form an orderly queue, ladies! Be lucky! (HONKS HORN)
Hope you're in the mood.
I'm always in the mood! Bah! What? Time for a bit of coitus non-interruptus! What? What the blazes do you think you're doing? Well, Dave, you did say you'd be stepping aside at some point.
I thought think, "Tempus fugit, time for yours truly to take over DUTIES at No.
10!" You can't swan in and take my place! I've got five years of vital government chillaxing to do! Very well.
I'm always here if you need me.
And if you don't.
Just get out.
Message received.
Incomprehensible classical reference.
The Johnsonator has left the building.
Don't suppose there's any chance of a threesome? Ugh! No.
Ah.
No.
Well, this is a truly remarkable piece, an utterly unique artefact, from the birthplace of human civilisation.
I'd say it was over 4,000 years old.
How much is it worth? It's impossible to put a price on it.
It's totally irreplaceable.
Death to false idols! Bah! That's all from the Antiques Roadshow, Syria.
Next week we'll be in Appledore, in Devon.
See you then.
(GRUNTS) What period would you say he's from? Definitely the Dark Ages.
(FIRES) (GASPS) Has he gone? Yes.
I think we finally got rid of him.
Thank heavens for that.
Argh! I'm back from the dead! (SCREAMS) Takes more than a few knives in the back to kill Nige off! Get out! Get out! GET OUT! Ah! UKIP man, eh? He's a zombie! No, just a good old-fashioned British hangover.
Nothing a full English won't sort, eh, love? (SLAP) Ow! How do we get rid of him? Can't.
I'll be around for 20 years.
Try bashing his brains out with a sledgehammer.
Or wait till the booze and fags kill him.
That might be quicker.
Mine's a pint.
Of Brains! (BURPS) She's Mrs Crown 'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mrs Crown's Boys!' '(CHEERING)' Ah, there you are, my loyal plebs.
It's me, off the stamps - or, as I like to call them, selfies.
You must excuse me.
I've got a house full of idle layabouts, as usual.
I suppose you want me to pour your tea, Camilla.
Yes please, Ma'amy.
Just how you like it.
A drop of milk and a fucking load of whisky.
Chas and I had a row.
He's not talking to me.
That's odd.
I thought he liked talking to vegetables.
He's in a bad mood because of his fecking letters.
How did the press get hold of them? I'm guessing from the fecking bin.
They'll make everyone think I'm a cantankerous old bore.
So no change there, then.
You keep out of this! I don't know why you're wasting your fucking time banging on about endangered species.
I love the Patagonian tooth fish! Yes, so do I! It is fucking delicious! Ergh! You're going to get one of my angry letters! Good, because we've run out of bog roll.
(SIGHS) Good night, plebs.
Ha ha ha.
(APPLAUSE) # INTRO: The Lion Sleeps Tonight # A wimoweh, a wimoweh # A wimoweh, a wimoweh Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Quack quack quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo! (BANG) It's Britain's Got Tories! (CHEERING AND APPLAUSE) Hello.
My name's - Get on with your sob story.
Well, I'm here tonight for my grandma.
ALL: Aw! Oh, good start! She had a stroke, but there are no hospital beds or money for a carer.
(BUZZER) It's a no from me.
We've all got to make sacrifices.
Oh yes.
This is non-vintage! Blergh! Next.
I'm from London.
My domestic violence refuge has been closed down and my ex-partner - (BUZZER) Look, everyone - I've fallen over! (LAUGHTER) What a character! Next.
I am pregnant, and I just escaped genocide in Darfur.
(BUZZER) My face isn't moving, but you are.
Deport her.
That's a bit harsh.
Next.
Hello.
My father's dying, and he's a multi-millionaire.
I'm worried I may have to pay a tiny bit of tax on the fortune I'm going to inherit.
(ALL SOB) It's the saddest story I ever heard.
You are an aspirational role model! That gets my Golden Buzzer.
Have some more money on us! (CHEERING AND APPLAUSE) Next patient, please.
Ah! A fine good morning to you, doctor and physician, sire.
Please take a seat, Miss Hart.
Verily I shall the seat take.
Thanking you, doctore.
Oof! Gratuitous extra shot of me.
Miranda, I assume it's about your chronic problem with balance? What problem with balance? (THUNK) More what I call "shots of me.
" Let's have a look-see.
Do I need to take my clothes off? Please say yes.
I think I can see the problem.
Just hold still for a minute.
(POP!) Ouchington! There you go.
It's a marble.
Heavens to Betsington! Must have been there for years.
I lost my marbles yonks ago.
(Funny marbles joke.
) Now try taking a few steps for me.
I'll give it what I call "a go".
No trip, no dive, no pratfall.
Yes.
You're cured! Cured? I'm stuffed! My career's ruined! Give me back that marble! (POP!) Ah, that's better.
Whoopsie! (THUNK) Hurrah! Such fun! 'In a world gone crazy for oil' Get your pound's worth of black gold! '.
.
they came from across the border' Can't I be at the wheel for once? '.
.
they crushed all who stood in their way' Love the SNP.
Actually the Lib Dems did this to me.
We're taking over! Whoo-hoo! '.
.
Mad Macs.
' Look, I'm always willing to negotiate.
Negotiate this! Oof! Why can't I do any of the fun stuff? 'Mad Macs, coming to Westminster, very soon.
' Oh, Cara, love your new selfie stick.
That's my arm.
Oh yeah! Ha-ha! Nice one.
So, Sherlock, who do you think did it? From the angle of the knife in his chest, the unusual blood pooling, and the time his watch stopped I have absolutely no idea.
(BEEP) A text from a mystery source! This could be our breakthrough.
Bugger - more spam.
So you've no idea who's behind this? No.
I've tried to get unsubscribed, but you never reach the call centre.
(BEEP) No! God give me strength! Bloody spam! Enough! I can't think! (CLATTER) Ugh! Agh! That's better.
What? Hang on - he's got a phone! Come with me, constable.
A serial killer's loose.
Really? Yes - me! I'm going to find out who's responsible for these texts and kill every bloody one of them.
Ho ho! Let's do it! High five! # The Star-Spangled Banner You don't want me to pick up the dry cleaning, Michelle? I got nothing else to do.
Hell, I even started a Twitter account.
(SIGHS) OK, honey.
Bye.
Whoa! Sir! I have something I need you to see, urgently.
Urgent? Great! Fantastic! Let's do this! (WHOOSH) (BEEPING) Oh.
Sweet.
# THEME TO "FRIENDS" It's an old episode of Friends.
I know, Mr President, sir.
But it's a really great one.
Phoebe gets a recording contract.
I guess I do like the Phoebe episodes.
(CHUCKLES) Hello, and welcome to the show where we have a good poke around people's intimate bits.
And someone who's done more than his fair share of that is Russell Brand.
Greetings and salutifications! Now, what seems to be the problem? Me tummy-wummy is a source of excruciating woe! Me bowel movements have all but terminated, causing me to perambulate in a right unorthodox manner.
Well, I think I know what the problem is here.
I've had a look at your x-rays, and .
.
you're absolutely, totally, full of shit.
Well, that explainifies everything.
Want to see my abs? How very meterosexual! Hello! I'm Kay Burley, dredging the sewer of news for the sweetcorn of human misery.
With me is Prince Harry.
Hello! So, Coppernob, you want to bring back national service? Yah! The army made me the man I am today.
A rich, unemployed waster? Bit harsh.
Actually, I think it's a brilliant idea.
Great! More grieving relatives for me to shove a microphone in front of.
Wah! I thought the Taleban were scary! (GROWLING) Earth creatures, we have travelled countless light years to visit your planet.
Oh, I shouldn't have taken that funny tablet in Ibiza.
Take me to your leader.
Well, um, that's a bit tricky at the moment.
Labour haven't actually got one.
I need to see your leader.
Well, the selection process has been changed since last time.
Why have they changed it? To make sure they don't end up choosing the wrong leader.
Again.
You look familiar.
Are you also from Zebulon 4? Uh, Primrose Hill.
Ooh! Sounds posh.
Well, if you have no leader, we will be forced to destroy you.
No need.
We're doing that to ourselves.
I'm afraid your mission is pointless.
At least I tried.
(GROANS) Tell him he can come in now.
Oi - that's my line.
Now, what do MI6 want from me? Lord Sugar, your country needs your help to defeat Isis.
What's the plan? Me and Andy McNab parachuting behind enemy lines? Stab 'em in the back, like I did with Labour? Love it.
Not quite, Lord Sugar.
We were thinking of sending in your apprentices.
Eh? They'll infiltrate and destroy Isis from within.
But my apprentices are a bunch of naive, egotistical idiots.
So they'll blend in seamlessly at Isis.
Genius! Within weeks of your apprentices joining, the terrorists will turn on each other, riven with infighting .
.
and they'll divert all their energy into arguing over new ice cream flavours and designing unsellable kids' toys.
Exactly.
Count me in.
Where do I sign? Don't use that pen - urghhh! Pen - you're fired.
(MOANS) (THUD) Wa-hoo! Gah! Right! Five minutes to sort out this week's London mayor's agenda.
All right, hats.
Ready for action.
What's the mayor's next big idea? Build - bah.
Bovine - bah.
Power station - bah.
In Leicester Square? I'm on it, boss! Tippity-top! Off to the MP job now.
Hurrah! Wa-hey! Oof! (CLATTER) Natalie, need some mouth-to-mouth.
(THUD) (APPLAUSE) Welcome back to The Cube.
'The Cube.
' Thank you.
Tonight, taking the challenge of The Cube - 'The Cube!' Enough! - it's Wayne Rooney.
All right, Mr Schofield? Wayne, who's supporting you tonight? It's me Uncle Roy.
Come on now, Wayne.
You can do this.
Well, Wayne, let's hear your challenge tonight.
'You have 90 minutes to get this ball into this goal.
' So are you ready to face the challenge of The Cube? 'The Cube.
' I already SAID The Cube! 'The Cube.
' (GROWLS) Er I don't understand the rules.
Wayne, my boy, let me simplify it for you.
Ball.
Kick.
Goal.
Oh.
Why didn't he just say that? Wayne, it's time to go into the Square Shaped Thing.
'The Square Shaped Thing!' Argh! Oof! Ow! Come on, Wayne.
Regroup.
Get in the box! Your time starts now.
'Now.
' Oh, no.
Disaster! Uncle Roy? No, I think there's still a lot of positives to be taken from tonight's performance.
For instance, I'm having a nice free night out in a warm studio, so I turned off the boiler at home - although I am missing the bingo.
The bingo? 'The Bingo!' (SNARLS) There! I've finished my book! Wow, that was quick, David! You only started reading it five minutes ago.
I wasn't reading one, Simon.
I was writing one! Of course you were (!) (PHONE RINGS) Ooh, nice ring, Simon.
What am I like? Hello? 'Hello.
Kim Jong-Un here!' How may I help you? 'You, I like.
You also are ruthless despot, with trademark outfit and not-at-all stupid hairstyle.
' You're very kind.
But I don't like the way you got rid of Louis Walsh.
'Next time I suggest you use an anti-aircraft gun.
' Good idea.
'Now, I want to pick your brains.
' I devise brilliant new television format, North Korea's Got Talent! Now, tell me how your show works.
Well, first, you're gonna need some talent.
Don't forget to enter a boy band! Ooh! Good idea.
I will call it Un Direction.
Maybe a talking dog? Yes! Dog could say, "Please don't eat me!" Great! All you need now is a public vote.
What? You let people vote?! 'It's a no from me!' I like him.
Do you want to know why? Is it because he's a massive knob? Ooh, you're a mind reader.
You should be on the show! Booyakashah! I'm Evan Davis, and my favourite band is a band you've not even heard of - that's how shitting cool I am.
On tonight's all-new, definitely-not-pandering to-the-after-pub-crowd Newsnight, we're rebranding as Boozenight .
.
the BBC's flagship political drinking game.
Listen, Evan, the first thing I'll do if I become leader is to show that Labour is the party of aspiration.
Ah, drink! Drink! Shit! I said aspiration! Shit, I said aspiration again! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Ha ha ha ha ha! (SLURS) And tonight's big question do you think Newsnight is dumbing down? Text in A for yes, B for no, X to make Cheggers do the Bushtucker trial, star-ampersand for extra pepperoni, or just scrawl your answer across the screen in crayon.
I love you, you know, you're my best (SNORES) (WHIMPERS) Now what do you say? No, no! You can't make me! Last chance! OK.
OK.
Stop.
I'll do it! I'll be the leader of the Liberal Democrats.
(EVIL LAUGHTER) Lay-lady-lay.
Do my trademark steely blue eyes deceive me, or is that a parking ticket? Sorry, it's a double yellow line.
Did I mention I'm TV's Paul Hollywood? So? Pie-maker to the stars, with the jungle musk of a randy orangutan? Smell that.
Ew.
Sorry.
Can't revoke a ticket once issued.
Can't, won't, or might, if this was a desert island, your husband was dead, and I was rustling you up a sponge cake in a coconut codpiece? Hm, hm! If you don't like it, you should have parked elsewhere.
I admit, officer, I've been a very bad boy.
You'd better punish me.
(GRUNTS) Oof! Right in the profiteroles.
Is he trying to pull the sexy Mr Kipling act again? Come on, Paul.
Stop embarrassing yourself and let's get you home.
Ohh! In the nick of time, Mary.
She was gagging to take down my particulars.
You really are a deluded old tart, aren't you, Paul? Why's that? You want to dip your finger in my icing? (WHOOSH) Oof! You've seen the TV show.
Oh, good grief! I can't look, I can't look! You've Googled the website.
Tina, Tina, come and see the size of this goitre! It's time for the inevitable! Embarrassing Bodies Live Tour! Hello, Wembley! (CHEERING) Yes, it's Dr Christian Jessen! Want to see some crusty warts? (CHEERING) With all your favourite body deformities and excruciating illnesses live on stage! It's Dr Christian at his very best.
Do rectal bleeding! (CHANTING) Haemorrhoids! Haemorrhoids! Haemorrhoids! Whether you want to gawp at foot fungus, stare at ingrowing hairs or just ogle my rippling torso - probably the last one, am I right? - this is the live show for you! Thank you, madam.
And I can tell you, you've got crab lice.
The Embarrassing Bodies Live Tour.
Coming soon.
One, two, one, two He's got two penises! (CHEERING) # (BAGPIPES PLAY) I like what you've done with your new office, Alex.
It's no good, Nicola.
I can't wait.
I want independence, and I want it now! I can't stand this master-servant relationship any longer.
It's got to end! Patience.
We'll leave England soon enough.
England?! I want independence from you! I want to be in charge! Bollocks! Eh? I can see your bollocks.
Ooh! Now shut up and fetch me some Tunnock's teacakes! Yes, boss Oh, ya bastard! (CRASH) (APPLAUSE) More applause! Don't stop till your palms bleed! Right.
Welcome back to The Me Show.
This week we've found a charming individual who's only gone and fathered 75 children (AUDIENCE GASPS) .
.
by no fewer than 23 women - or as he calls them, bitches.
Let's bring him on.
Here, boy! (BOOING) Who said you could sit on the chair? Ruff! Row! Right.
It's not the first time I thought a guest should be neutered, but today we're going to do it! (GULPS) Live! In the studio! Pass the scissors.
I'll do it myself.
You know I would! (WHIMPERS) (BOOING) What a lovely welcome.
It's nice to be back.
It gives me great pleasure to declare this new A&E facility open.
Give us a smile, George! Don't know how to.
Well, let's see it! This way, Mr Osborne.
Here it is, the new Accident and Emergency Unit.
Fully equipped, I see.
Well, it's got Elastoplasts, paracetamol, Lemsips, a DIY defibrillator.
Coin-operated? It is, yes.
Excellent.
Just what the doctor ordered.
No, the doctors ordered something else.
You cancelled it and ordered this.
Cutty, cutty, snip, snip! It's also stocked with some transplant organs.
What's that? It's a heart, Mr Osborne.
Some people find them useful.
Really? Now, where's my new streamlined urology and gastroenterology ward? Just here.
Marvellous.
Cutty, cutty, snip, snip! Oi, oi, Saveloy! # (TO THE TUNE OF) BLUR: 'Park Life' # I get up in the morning, look out my window # And start what is known # As royal # Park life # A servant changes me nappies, brings me a Stella, # And I think about leaving the Palace # Now that's not a # Bad life # I feed the peacocks # I sometimes feed the swans too # Fattening 'em up for my # Sharp knife # Lovely bit of swan! # Who's that bald bloke whinging? You cut down on that organic bollocks, get some kebabs down yer.
# All you people # You common people # Hard graft every day # Don't you wish you had # My life? You know you want it! # Mum married her way out of the ghetto - well, the Home Counties # That's what you call a # Smart wife # Since when it's all been going cushty # Till I was rudely awakened by my baby sister # Tough life # Charlotte's a right pain # She only went and got all my readies wet Just as we started Bath time Proper moist! # I wanna travel the world like me Uncle Harry # Kissing all the girls They love a bit of it # All you people # You common people # You could have a piece of this # One day you could be My wife Oi-Oi! Form an orderly queue, ladies! Be lucky! (HONKS HORN)