That Mitchell and Webb Look (2006) s02e05 Episode Script
Episode 5
- About bloody time.
- What's wrong with our little boy? Calm down, Mr and Mrs Chamberlain, we've diagnosed your son's condition.
- That's good news, isn't it? - Er, yeah well - No, I'm afraid it isn't good news.
- (Gasps) Tamburlaine? Wake up.
Tamburlaine can't hear you, Mr Chamberlain.
There's no nice way of saying this Your son is dying.
- My little pumpkin! - Hang on in there, Tamburlaine.
Dying? What of? Embarrassment.
Oh, mummy's brave little soldier! Have you been cutting up his egg for him? Oh, look at the state of you.
(Spits) I've never seen levels of embarrassment like this before.
We estimate that he's got six weeks left at most.
Well, nothing's too good for him.
We'll make these last weeks the best ever, Tamburlaine, the best ever! We'll take you to Disneyland, you can meet Mickey Mouse and shake his hand.
We'll make them do a parade just for you.
We can get that singer he likes, the one that did "Achy Breaky Heart".
He can wake him with a song.
What was he called? - Right Says Fred.
- That's the one! You'd like that, poodle pops.
Remember, you danced to it at your Aunty Pauline's boob-job party.
He was five.
Little purple pageboy outfit and a white sailor's hat.
- So adorable! I've got photographs.
- (Monitor beeps faster) Oh, no, that's him in bath.
Look at his little dinky doo.
- (Constant beep) - We're losing him! Don't go! You haven't tried on your new cardigan.
(Single constant beep) Time of death, 11:26am.
Mr Bongles is crying! (Sobs) We're gonna give you the best funeral ever.
Uncle Jeff will read some of his blue limericks and I'll do my impression of John Major singing "Thriller".
(Alarm blares) - You'll never guess what I've done.
- What have you done? I've only gone and cut a hole in the back of Gordon's bio-hazard suit.
(Crash) Hilarious.
So this is house number three, the wild card, and I think we'd better start in the bathroom.
So, this is the bathroom.
- Oh, it's a good size.
- Yeah, shower-fitting.
- Er, sorry, do you want to try again? - Is there a problem? It's worth doing it again.
You forgot to say about the bath.
- Say what about the bath? - Oh, it'll be obvious.
So, this is the bathroom.
- Oh, this is a good size.
- Yeah, shower-fitting and a bath.
- Was that better? I mentioned the bath.
- What kind of people are you? - Erm - The bath is not white! Er, no, it's sort of green, isn't it? It's avocado, you c***! The rule is that no one can live with any bath that isn't white! If you look like you can on TV, everyone'll think you're scum! You're supposed to say, "I couldn't live with that bathroom suite," and then we all agree along with the whole of Britain.
But what about people who've fitted coloured baths? Nobody knows.
Death camps, sterilisation, living in sewers? Who cares? They're not around anymore! So I advise you to march in step with the rest of the white bathroom-Ioving nation.
Remember it like racism, white is right! So this is the bathroom! - Oh, this is a good size.
- Yeah, er, shower-fitting.
I'm not sure I like the colour of the bathroom suite, though.
Urgh, yes! I mean, could you live with it for a second? Could you stand to have a single bath in there without being sick? How could you sleep, knowing that in your house mute ceramic witness was being paid to your total inability to bow to prevailing taste? How could you let your children bathe their pink vulnerable bodies in a colour that famously clashes with pink? Everyone knows children look better in a white bath! Before you say, "That sounds weird," I mean alive or dead.
So I ask you again, could you live with that bath? Yes, yes, I could! And I don't care who knows it! It's fine, I mean, it might not be what I'd choose, but given that this is a room in which I shit and wash my balls, I don't see it's particularly important what the colour scheme is! Well said, darling.
And I'll go one further, it is a colour I'd choose, I like it.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry, my darling, it's kinder this way.
- (Gasping) - I'm so sorry.
That was for the best.
Now, come on, let's look at the guest bedroom.
It's got flock wallpaper, you'll know what to say.
- I couldn't live with it.
- Could you live with it? I couldn't live with it.
So Hitchcock goes to Selznick and says, "I got this fantastic book I wanna make a movie out of, it's called 'Rebecca'.
" And Selz goes, "Great! Who do you want for Rebecca?" And Hitch says, "No one.
"It's about this guy, marries a girl, takes her back to his big old house, "and all anyone can talk about is his first wife Rebecca, who's dead.
" And Selznick goes, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! She's dead? "Listen up, you limey bastard, you're in Hollywood now, "and in Hollywood, you go see a film called 'Rebecca', "there better be a dame called Rebecca in it.
Got it?" And you know, Selznick was the money, so first cut, we did it his way (Woman) 'Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley for the first time.
' So, here we are, darling, Manderley.
Oh, Max, it's everything I hoped it would be.
- We must hold the most wonderful party.
- (Groans) Why, Maxim, whatever is it? Are you unhappy? No, Rebecca, it's nothing.
I I was just wondering what my second wife is going to be like.
I bet she'll want to hold a party, too.
Mrs Danvers, may I ask you something? Of course, madam.
Mrs Danvers, I I should like to see the east wing.
Oh, I'm afraid that's quite impossible, madam.
The master is keeping that wing just as it is for the second Mrs de Winter.
Oh.
Surely in the meantime he wouldn't mind me No, madam, no one ever goes in there yet.
Mrs Danvers, I must insist.
But it's Mrs de Winter's wing.
I am Mrs de Winter, for now.
Oh, Maxim, I wish you could've come to the boating lake, it was lovely.
Max, you're not even listening to me.
I'm sorry, dear, I was thinking about a time when we'll be playing tennis.
- Ha! How she'll love tennis.
- That's why I'm not allowed on the court.
I'm surprised you didn't keep the boating lake for her as well.
No, we'll never use the lake once you're gone, she'll find it too upsetting, besides people will say it's haunted.
Max What the devil do you think you're playing at? For God's sake, go and change out of that thing! I don't understand, it's only the dress in the portrait.
The portrait of the second Mrs de Winter! You knew! You knew this is the dress he wanted the second Mrs de Winter to wear! Of course I knew, because it's about time you learnt that you won't be able to hold a candle to her, I shouldn't think.
Just look at her room.
Isn't it beautiful? Look at her clothes.
Aren't they wonderful? This is her garden party dress, if she's a size 8.
And here if she's a size 10, and here if she's a size 12.
You know, Max, I think I could bear this, all of it, if only I knew that once you were with her you'd be happy.
Will you, Max, will you be happy or will there be a third Mrs de Winter? Oh, yes, that's who I'm keeping the other mansion for.
You know Kerry in the open plan upstairs? What, Sad Kerry or Danish Kerry? That's interesting, but I always think of Danish Kerry as Gorgeous Kerry, and the one you think of as Sad Kerry as Rebound Kerry.
We shouldn't get into what that says about you.
Fair enough.
But you've worked with Rebound Kerry, you've got her number.
You want me to give you her number so you can go on a date and see if she'll let you have sex? Please! It's like sharing an office with Caravaggio.
- You mean Casanova.
- Oh, Casanova, is it? You really do fancy your chances.
Right, I'm just toothing it from my cell.
Oh, I wish you wouldn't use language like that, anyone can walk in.
- Toothing now, are you getting it? - Please just read it out to me! Don't be ridiculous, this is much quicker.
Are you getting it? No, I'm not getting it, I'm waiting for you to read out the number using the ancient but efficient communication technology of talking.
Maybe it's a bit far away, that's sometimes the problem.
Have you got it now? Fine, you win! I'm now turning on Bluetooth, I want to die.
- See, it's quicker.
- It demonstrably is not.
- It's better, though.
- Not really.
- More fun? - No.
- Have you got it? - No.
Colin, it's digital information, not salt.
Why isn't it working? I think your mobile's broken.
- It's all right, I'll email it.
- Please! - It's cheaper than texting.
- Just read out the frigging number! All right! Crikey! Sorry for trying to save you time, in the long run.
Sorry I can't chalk it on a little blackboard like at infant school and take it to the nearest post office just in time for the last pigeon.
Do you not want me to have sex with Kerry, is she your mum or something? Ray, I have absolutely no interest in your penis or who or where you want to put it near or in.
- I will now read out the number.
- Thank you.
So it's Kerry.
Have you put that in? No, I prefer to put the number in first and then save the name second.
- Is this going to be the new problem? - No, no problem at all.
In predictive text Kerry comes out Jerry, and I wouldn't want you involved in some humorous misunderstanding.
Your keenness to avoid humorous misunderstandings is one of your more appealing qualities.
Now, will you please give me Kerry's telephone number and in a way that is not completely perverse? Add 44 or 02 zero, seven, ninety-four, six, nought thousand, eight hundred and sixty-nine.
Do you mean 02079460869? Yes, if you wanna be boring about it.
Er, how much how much for the wardrobe? That one, mate? 250.
That's quite a lot, isn't it? Not really, French oak, lovely marketry work on the doors, 250.
- Did you just say "gateway to Narnia"? - That's right, love.
- What, THE Narnia? - Yes, mate.
- Paperbacks are all 50p, mate.
- Sorry, witches, gnomes, all that? They prefer the term dwarves, but yeah.
- Aslan? - Oh, yeah, he's lovely.
Bit mysterious.
But he is a lion, so it's hard to know what they're thinking.
So what you've actually been to Narnia? Oh, yeah.
It's lovely, bit like the Cotswolds.
And you're selling it at a car boot sale because? I don't really need it any more, you know.
It was handy in the flat to have outside space, but since we moved we've got a garden and fitted wardrobes, so Can we have a go? Oh, yeah, it all works, knock yourself out.
They're a pound, darling.
Here, do you know what I've done this time? - No.
- I couldn't help myself.
I've only gone and taken the soup out of Gordon's thermos and replaced it with the Ebola virus.
(Groans) You guys! (Crash) That got him.
Ha-ha! Come, my love, the stag went Oh, oh, God! - Oh, right, yeah, I remember.
- What do you reckon? We were in Narnia, for years and years, and we became king and queen, and we were good and just and we loved all the time, apart from when we had to do a battle but we always won, and I had a little mouse who was my servant who could speak.
Did you? That's nice.
I'll tell you what, Yes, yes! - What? - Well, I don't know, it's a bit - It's a bit what? - It's a bit nice, it's a bit Christian.
What? Let's go and have another look at that leather sofa.
- But Narnia? - Mine, I think.
Donkey rides, completely safe! Donkey rides, £10 or vital supplies in kind.
Can we go soon, sir, before another dog takes an interest in my bottom? You asked for that, Ginger, you arse-wiggling little tart.
I didn't mean to wiggle it, sir, I was just trying to relieve the usual itch.
Hello, you look poorly.
I'm the Queen of England, what's your name? - Digby.
- Would you like my candyfloss, Digby? - I'd like the stick.
- Shut up, Ginger! Are you sure it's not a cloud of poisonous gas sent by my Nemesis to poison us both, Your Majesty? Silly.
Arise, Sir Digby.
Can I scratch my anus now, please, sir? You should get better and go to a hospital.
Now put me down.
I have to have dinner with Beyoncé.
Of course, your brilliant French double agent.
Ah, my mouth is melting! Ah, poisonous gas, poisonous gas! Sir! Don't leave me, sir! Don't leave me, sir! Not much time, must get to hospital.
Need cover.
Oh! Ow! The weird relief, the weird relief! Your Majesty, to the A&E! (Hums theme to "Dick Barton - Special Agent") 'In a world spinning rapidly off its hinges, 'on streets cluttered with thugs peddling disco biscuits and cheap fireworks, 'who's left to fight for honour, justice 'and enough change for a bottle of Happy Shopper Ouzo? 'Yes, it's the surprising adventures of me, Sir Digby Chicken Caesar.
' Listen carefully, Ginger, the Queen was very specific.
My Nemesis has disguised his poisonous gas factory as a hospital, so as to pass off the poisonous gas as harmless, very powerful pills and drugs.
Was that exactly what she said, sir? This woman has given counsel to eleven Prime Ministers not including myself.
- Were you? - I don't like to go on about it.
I think she knows what she's talking about when she tells us to come here and steal all the pills.
- One of my Nemesis's henchmen - Can I help you? - My friend's been brutally stabbed.
- And who did that to you? - He did.
- Al Capone.
Right.
This is an orthopaedics ward you need to go downstairs to Casualty.
For the Queen! Quick, Ginger! To the smack cabinet! (Hums theme to "Dick Barton - Special Agent") 'How many narcotics must we consume before the Empire is safe? 'What happened to my grant from the Home Office? 'How much longer will Benjy's remain the last shop 'not to have security men on the door? Saps.
'Find out in the next thrilling instalment 'of "The Surprising Adventures of Sir Digby Chicken Caesar"! ' environmental catastrophe of vast proportions.
We asked the Minister for Shipping to comment, but she just yawned.
But who needs her, when we've got you? What do you think about this issue? Do you have any thoughts? What are those thoughts? Will you tell us them? Any thoughts at all will do.
If you have them, we want to hear them.
Are you personally affected by this issue, then email us.
Or if you're not affected, can you imagine if you were? Or if you already are affected by it but don't want to talk about it, can you imagine not being affected by it? - Why not email and tell us? - Yes, why not? What possible reason could there be for you not to email us? Certainly ignorance shouldn't be a bar.
You may not know anything about the issue but I bet you reckon something.
So why not tell us what you reckon? Let us enjoy the full majesty of your uninformed, ad hoc reckon by going to bbc.
Co.
Uk/meandmyimportantthoughts all one word, clicking on "what I reckon" and then simply beating on the keyboard with your fists or head.
Here's some of the feedback we've had so far.
Andrew from Eastbourne reckons it's a sad indictment of the way we live, Matthew from Ilkley reckons it isn't.
Patricia from Southampton wonders what Wordsworth would say and thinks she knows and James from Amersham would like the fire brigade quickly for God's sake, he's trapped, he's trapped.
Thanks for those and keep those emails coming.
It is for some reason apparently vital that you do.
- That was a wordy one.
(Farts) - Yeah, very clever, clever.
(Farts) Good job we've got this bit, just the two of us sitting on our massive balls, farting.
(Farts) You're quite right, cos it's nice to have a wordy sketch.
Yeah, the failings of the IMF does an opera that kind of thing.
- Yeah.
- (Both fart) But then you need something like this to provide a bit of balance.
(Both fart and sigh) Doesn't really go anywhere, does it? No, and how do you end it? I suppose the obvious ending would be one really long and incredibly loud fart.
OK.
(Tiny fart) So there are various holes which we're hoping to fill.
I know you've been working hard to come up with suitable candidates.
If we start with the accountancy position, as it's the most straight-forward, what are your thoughts? I have had an idea, I think you'll be surprised but hopefully excited as I am.
What do you reckon to Lindsay Davenport? - Presumably not the tennis player? - The former world number one, yes.
Right, what are her qualifications? Well, she's won three Grand Slams, an Olympic gold medal.
- World number one - In tennis? Yes, this is all in tennis.
She's known by fans as thoughtful and well-balanced, and she's the tallest woman ever to win a Grand Slam Singles title, so it's all good.
Right, I just wonder, I mean I'm totally with you here, Greg, in what way any of these things qualify her for an accountancy job? Are you suggesting that working out your payroll is harder than winning Wimbledon? No, it requires different skills.
Dedication, determination, peak physical fitness, excellent ground strokes.
I'm not sure we'd need those last two.
They couldn't do any harm, look at Sue Barker.
What does that even mean? Well, she never really had the ground strokes.
You're not convinced, I can tell.
It was just an idea, let's move on.
Right.
Head of Marketing.
Well, I think I'm actually gonna surprise you again.
You're not suggesting another tennis player? No, no, no.
I was actually gonna suggest the same tennis player, Lindsay Davenport.
OK, I'm not sure what she has to offer the world of business.
You say that, but she's actually recently been considered for a major accountancy post.
Greg, I haven't got much time, let's move on again.
The really important post which we must fill is Chief Operating Officer.
I'd like to hear what your suggestions for that are, but I'm going to ask you not to say Lindsay Davenport.
OK, well, business is about thinking outside the box and not always working to the brief you've been given.
So I might be about to surprise you again when I say that I am gonna say Lindsay Davenport.
I'll be honest with you, Tim, if you go for Lindsay as Chief Operating Officer, there's one drawback.
- Which is? - A gap in Accountancy and Marketing.
Greg, have you interviewed any serious candidates for any of the jobs? To be honest with you, I was so impressed by the meeting I had with Lindsay Davenport, that I pretty much called off the search.
I mean, she is terrific, she's so tall.
Have you actually got anyone else on your books at all? Oh, yes, of course There's erm ahem Alan erm Davenport.
Quite a coincidence.
Yes, isn't it? No, no, I'm just going through the 'D's.
So tell me about Alan.
Well, he's tall, likes tennis, bit of a womanly bearing, excellent ground strokes, known as Lindsay to his friends.
Get out.
What did you do that for? - Ahhh! - Oh, hilarious, Gordon, really funny! (Gordon chuckles) (Groans and screams) - (Crash) - What did you do? Sprayed his pants with bubonic plague, and put a cobra in his helmet.
I was signing a letter when it struck me.
I've never thought about my name before, but suddenly it was so obvious.
- What was? - Surely you see it? David Mitchell, Mitch-ell - Mitchell, yes - Mitchell or Mithchild.
- Mithchild? - Yeah, Mithchild.
David, the child of Mith, sort of like the Messiah.
You think you're the Messiah? You have to admit the evidence is compelling.
Have you gone mental again? The Mithchild forgives you.
- Tell me, James, what do they call you? - James.
And what is your surname, he who they call James? You know what my surname is.
Barkman Man who barks, bark of tree and bark of dog, trusty yet wooden.
You travel with the Mithchild with your gentle leaves and love of crisps.
- Woman, who are you? - Oh, fuck off.
The Mithchild forgives you, Olivia Coleman, coal man, man of coal, man who delivers coal May your carbon footprint not trample on the Bark Man's delicate wood.
That sounds rude.
Entangle me not, Webb! The Mithchild fears the gluey fronds of the spider You get the general idea.
What do you reckon? What, as a way of being sort of all the time? Yeah, the Mithchild.
Any good? - I think I prefer you sort of normal.
- Normal, stay normal, good plan.
Yeah, that's what I thought probably.
I really liked it.
The Bank of England have announced interest rates Sorry, I have to interrupt you there, we're getting reports of some astonishing breaking news.
It appears that an invasion of Earth by an unknown but vastly powerful extraterrestrial aggressor is underway.
Details are sketchy, but reports are pouring in from across the world of vast metallic crab-like creatures laying waste to all they encounter.
So, a massive and unstoppable alien attack threatens the Earth.
What's your reaction, are you affected by the end of civilisation? Maybe you live on Earth or know someone who does.
How do you feel? Email us with your thoughts on your imminent molecular evaporation at bbc.
Co.
Uk/emergencyapocalypse address, all one word, and let us know.
Already this issue seems to have provoked a lot of comment.
Lucinda Richards from London asks, "Will these aliens be required to pay the congestion charge? "Somehow, I think not.
"It's one rule for us and another rule for alien beings.
" And Gerard from Dover called our letter line number to say, "As I'm approaching my 80th birthday, "I think I'm entitled to comment 'twas ever thus.
"I remember when a certain Mr Hitler tried to overthrow this sceptred isle.
"Like him, I think these aliens might find Britons are harder to conquer than" Then he just tails off into screams.
A quick update if you're more interested in the news rather than what people you don't know think about the news, London has fallen to the aliens.
But more importantly I can also tell you that Sophie from Manchester says, "Say what you like about the alien killer-crabs "but by God they can organise an invasion.
"We have a lot to learn from them though we better be quick.
" And lastly on a lighter note, Carl from Oundle writes, "Where's Dr Who when you need him?" In fiction, I imagine.
- He's right there, worst luck.
- Indeed.
We're running out of time both on the programme and just generally.
My producer tells me that the giant alien crabs have breached TV Centre and will imminently vaporise us all.
And if you want to see that, log on to our behind-the-scenes web cam.
Simply go to bbc.
Co.
Uk/watchusfry, all one word, and click on
- What's wrong with our little boy? Calm down, Mr and Mrs Chamberlain, we've diagnosed your son's condition.
- That's good news, isn't it? - Er, yeah well - No, I'm afraid it isn't good news.
- (Gasps) Tamburlaine? Wake up.
Tamburlaine can't hear you, Mr Chamberlain.
There's no nice way of saying this Your son is dying.
- My little pumpkin! - Hang on in there, Tamburlaine.
Dying? What of? Embarrassment.
Oh, mummy's brave little soldier! Have you been cutting up his egg for him? Oh, look at the state of you.
(Spits) I've never seen levels of embarrassment like this before.
We estimate that he's got six weeks left at most.
Well, nothing's too good for him.
We'll make these last weeks the best ever, Tamburlaine, the best ever! We'll take you to Disneyland, you can meet Mickey Mouse and shake his hand.
We'll make them do a parade just for you.
We can get that singer he likes, the one that did "Achy Breaky Heart".
He can wake him with a song.
What was he called? - Right Says Fred.
- That's the one! You'd like that, poodle pops.
Remember, you danced to it at your Aunty Pauline's boob-job party.
He was five.
Little purple pageboy outfit and a white sailor's hat.
- So adorable! I've got photographs.
- (Monitor beeps faster) Oh, no, that's him in bath.
Look at his little dinky doo.
- (Constant beep) - We're losing him! Don't go! You haven't tried on your new cardigan.
(Single constant beep) Time of death, 11:26am.
Mr Bongles is crying! (Sobs) We're gonna give you the best funeral ever.
Uncle Jeff will read some of his blue limericks and I'll do my impression of John Major singing "Thriller".
(Alarm blares) - You'll never guess what I've done.
- What have you done? I've only gone and cut a hole in the back of Gordon's bio-hazard suit.
(Crash) Hilarious.
So this is house number three, the wild card, and I think we'd better start in the bathroom.
So, this is the bathroom.
- Oh, it's a good size.
- Yeah, shower-fitting.
- Er, sorry, do you want to try again? - Is there a problem? It's worth doing it again.
You forgot to say about the bath.
- Say what about the bath? - Oh, it'll be obvious.
So, this is the bathroom.
- Oh, this is a good size.
- Yeah, shower-fitting and a bath.
- Was that better? I mentioned the bath.
- What kind of people are you? - Erm - The bath is not white! Er, no, it's sort of green, isn't it? It's avocado, you c***! The rule is that no one can live with any bath that isn't white! If you look like you can on TV, everyone'll think you're scum! You're supposed to say, "I couldn't live with that bathroom suite," and then we all agree along with the whole of Britain.
But what about people who've fitted coloured baths? Nobody knows.
Death camps, sterilisation, living in sewers? Who cares? They're not around anymore! So I advise you to march in step with the rest of the white bathroom-Ioving nation.
Remember it like racism, white is right! So this is the bathroom! - Oh, this is a good size.
- Yeah, er, shower-fitting.
I'm not sure I like the colour of the bathroom suite, though.
Urgh, yes! I mean, could you live with it for a second? Could you stand to have a single bath in there without being sick? How could you sleep, knowing that in your house mute ceramic witness was being paid to your total inability to bow to prevailing taste? How could you let your children bathe their pink vulnerable bodies in a colour that famously clashes with pink? Everyone knows children look better in a white bath! Before you say, "That sounds weird," I mean alive or dead.
So I ask you again, could you live with that bath? Yes, yes, I could! And I don't care who knows it! It's fine, I mean, it might not be what I'd choose, but given that this is a room in which I shit and wash my balls, I don't see it's particularly important what the colour scheme is! Well said, darling.
And I'll go one further, it is a colour I'd choose, I like it.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry, my darling, it's kinder this way.
- (Gasping) - I'm so sorry.
That was for the best.
Now, come on, let's look at the guest bedroom.
It's got flock wallpaper, you'll know what to say.
- I couldn't live with it.
- Could you live with it? I couldn't live with it.
So Hitchcock goes to Selznick and says, "I got this fantastic book I wanna make a movie out of, it's called 'Rebecca'.
" And Selz goes, "Great! Who do you want for Rebecca?" And Hitch says, "No one.
"It's about this guy, marries a girl, takes her back to his big old house, "and all anyone can talk about is his first wife Rebecca, who's dead.
" And Selznick goes, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! She's dead? "Listen up, you limey bastard, you're in Hollywood now, "and in Hollywood, you go see a film called 'Rebecca', "there better be a dame called Rebecca in it.
Got it?" And you know, Selznick was the money, so first cut, we did it his way (Woman) 'Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley for the first time.
' So, here we are, darling, Manderley.
Oh, Max, it's everything I hoped it would be.
- We must hold the most wonderful party.
- (Groans) Why, Maxim, whatever is it? Are you unhappy? No, Rebecca, it's nothing.
I I was just wondering what my second wife is going to be like.
I bet she'll want to hold a party, too.
Mrs Danvers, may I ask you something? Of course, madam.
Mrs Danvers, I I should like to see the east wing.
Oh, I'm afraid that's quite impossible, madam.
The master is keeping that wing just as it is for the second Mrs de Winter.
Oh.
Surely in the meantime he wouldn't mind me No, madam, no one ever goes in there yet.
Mrs Danvers, I must insist.
But it's Mrs de Winter's wing.
I am Mrs de Winter, for now.
Oh, Maxim, I wish you could've come to the boating lake, it was lovely.
Max, you're not even listening to me.
I'm sorry, dear, I was thinking about a time when we'll be playing tennis.
- Ha! How she'll love tennis.
- That's why I'm not allowed on the court.
I'm surprised you didn't keep the boating lake for her as well.
No, we'll never use the lake once you're gone, she'll find it too upsetting, besides people will say it's haunted.
Max What the devil do you think you're playing at? For God's sake, go and change out of that thing! I don't understand, it's only the dress in the portrait.
The portrait of the second Mrs de Winter! You knew! You knew this is the dress he wanted the second Mrs de Winter to wear! Of course I knew, because it's about time you learnt that you won't be able to hold a candle to her, I shouldn't think.
Just look at her room.
Isn't it beautiful? Look at her clothes.
Aren't they wonderful? This is her garden party dress, if she's a size 8.
And here if she's a size 10, and here if she's a size 12.
You know, Max, I think I could bear this, all of it, if only I knew that once you were with her you'd be happy.
Will you, Max, will you be happy or will there be a third Mrs de Winter? Oh, yes, that's who I'm keeping the other mansion for.
You know Kerry in the open plan upstairs? What, Sad Kerry or Danish Kerry? That's interesting, but I always think of Danish Kerry as Gorgeous Kerry, and the one you think of as Sad Kerry as Rebound Kerry.
We shouldn't get into what that says about you.
Fair enough.
But you've worked with Rebound Kerry, you've got her number.
You want me to give you her number so you can go on a date and see if she'll let you have sex? Please! It's like sharing an office with Caravaggio.
- You mean Casanova.
- Oh, Casanova, is it? You really do fancy your chances.
Right, I'm just toothing it from my cell.
Oh, I wish you wouldn't use language like that, anyone can walk in.
- Toothing now, are you getting it? - Please just read it out to me! Don't be ridiculous, this is much quicker.
Are you getting it? No, I'm not getting it, I'm waiting for you to read out the number using the ancient but efficient communication technology of talking.
Maybe it's a bit far away, that's sometimes the problem.
Have you got it now? Fine, you win! I'm now turning on Bluetooth, I want to die.
- See, it's quicker.
- It demonstrably is not.
- It's better, though.
- Not really.
- More fun? - No.
- Have you got it? - No.
Colin, it's digital information, not salt.
Why isn't it working? I think your mobile's broken.
- It's all right, I'll email it.
- Please! - It's cheaper than texting.
- Just read out the frigging number! All right! Crikey! Sorry for trying to save you time, in the long run.
Sorry I can't chalk it on a little blackboard like at infant school and take it to the nearest post office just in time for the last pigeon.
Do you not want me to have sex with Kerry, is she your mum or something? Ray, I have absolutely no interest in your penis or who or where you want to put it near or in.
- I will now read out the number.
- Thank you.
So it's Kerry.
Have you put that in? No, I prefer to put the number in first and then save the name second.
- Is this going to be the new problem? - No, no problem at all.
In predictive text Kerry comes out Jerry, and I wouldn't want you involved in some humorous misunderstanding.
Your keenness to avoid humorous misunderstandings is one of your more appealing qualities.
Now, will you please give me Kerry's telephone number and in a way that is not completely perverse? Add 44 or 02 zero, seven, ninety-four, six, nought thousand, eight hundred and sixty-nine.
Do you mean 02079460869? Yes, if you wanna be boring about it.
Er, how much how much for the wardrobe? That one, mate? 250.
That's quite a lot, isn't it? Not really, French oak, lovely marketry work on the doors, 250.
- Did you just say "gateway to Narnia"? - That's right, love.
- What, THE Narnia? - Yes, mate.
- Paperbacks are all 50p, mate.
- Sorry, witches, gnomes, all that? They prefer the term dwarves, but yeah.
- Aslan? - Oh, yeah, he's lovely.
Bit mysterious.
But he is a lion, so it's hard to know what they're thinking.
So what you've actually been to Narnia? Oh, yeah.
It's lovely, bit like the Cotswolds.
And you're selling it at a car boot sale because? I don't really need it any more, you know.
It was handy in the flat to have outside space, but since we moved we've got a garden and fitted wardrobes, so Can we have a go? Oh, yeah, it all works, knock yourself out.
They're a pound, darling.
Here, do you know what I've done this time? - No.
- I couldn't help myself.
I've only gone and taken the soup out of Gordon's thermos and replaced it with the Ebola virus.
(Groans) You guys! (Crash) That got him.
Ha-ha! Come, my love, the stag went Oh, oh, God! - Oh, right, yeah, I remember.
- What do you reckon? We were in Narnia, for years and years, and we became king and queen, and we were good and just and we loved all the time, apart from when we had to do a battle but we always won, and I had a little mouse who was my servant who could speak.
Did you? That's nice.
I'll tell you what, Yes, yes! - What? - Well, I don't know, it's a bit - It's a bit what? - It's a bit nice, it's a bit Christian.
What? Let's go and have another look at that leather sofa.
- But Narnia? - Mine, I think.
Donkey rides, completely safe! Donkey rides, £10 or vital supplies in kind.
Can we go soon, sir, before another dog takes an interest in my bottom? You asked for that, Ginger, you arse-wiggling little tart.
I didn't mean to wiggle it, sir, I was just trying to relieve the usual itch.
Hello, you look poorly.
I'm the Queen of England, what's your name? - Digby.
- Would you like my candyfloss, Digby? - I'd like the stick.
- Shut up, Ginger! Are you sure it's not a cloud of poisonous gas sent by my Nemesis to poison us both, Your Majesty? Silly.
Arise, Sir Digby.
Can I scratch my anus now, please, sir? You should get better and go to a hospital.
Now put me down.
I have to have dinner with Beyoncé.
Of course, your brilliant French double agent.
Ah, my mouth is melting! Ah, poisonous gas, poisonous gas! Sir! Don't leave me, sir! Don't leave me, sir! Not much time, must get to hospital.
Need cover.
Oh! Ow! The weird relief, the weird relief! Your Majesty, to the A&E! (Hums theme to "Dick Barton - Special Agent") 'In a world spinning rapidly off its hinges, 'on streets cluttered with thugs peddling disco biscuits and cheap fireworks, 'who's left to fight for honour, justice 'and enough change for a bottle of Happy Shopper Ouzo? 'Yes, it's the surprising adventures of me, Sir Digby Chicken Caesar.
' Listen carefully, Ginger, the Queen was very specific.
My Nemesis has disguised his poisonous gas factory as a hospital, so as to pass off the poisonous gas as harmless, very powerful pills and drugs.
Was that exactly what she said, sir? This woman has given counsel to eleven Prime Ministers not including myself.
- Were you? - I don't like to go on about it.
I think she knows what she's talking about when she tells us to come here and steal all the pills.
- One of my Nemesis's henchmen - Can I help you? - My friend's been brutally stabbed.
- And who did that to you? - He did.
- Al Capone.
Right.
This is an orthopaedics ward you need to go downstairs to Casualty.
For the Queen! Quick, Ginger! To the smack cabinet! (Hums theme to "Dick Barton - Special Agent") 'How many narcotics must we consume before the Empire is safe? 'What happened to my grant from the Home Office? 'How much longer will Benjy's remain the last shop 'not to have security men on the door? Saps.
'Find out in the next thrilling instalment 'of "The Surprising Adventures of Sir Digby Chicken Caesar"! ' environmental catastrophe of vast proportions.
We asked the Minister for Shipping to comment, but she just yawned.
But who needs her, when we've got you? What do you think about this issue? Do you have any thoughts? What are those thoughts? Will you tell us them? Any thoughts at all will do.
If you have them, we want to hear them.
Are you personally affected by this issue, then email us.
Or if you're not affected, can you imagine if you were? Or if you already are affected by it but don't want to talk about it, can you imagine not being affected by it? - Why not email and tell us? - Yes, why not? What possible reason could there be for you not to email us? Certainly ignorance shouldn't be a bar.
You may not know anything about the issue but I bet you reckon something.
So why not tell us what you reckon? Let us enjoy the full majesty of your uninformed, ad hoc reckon by going to bbc.
Co.
Uk/meandmyimportantthoughts all one word, clicking on "what I reckon" and then simply beating on the keyboard with your fists or head.
Here's some of the feedback we've had so far.
Andrew from Eastbourne reckons it's a sad indictment of the way we live, Matthew from Ilkley reckons it isn't.
Patricia from Southampton wonders what Wordsworth would say and thinks she knows and James from Amersham would like the fire brigade quickly for God's sake, he's trapped, he's trapped.
Thanks for those and keep those emails coming.
It is for some reason apparently vital that you do.
- That was a wordy one.
(Farts) - Yeah, very clever, clever.
(Farts) Good job we've got this bit, just the two of us sitting on our massive balls, farting.
(Farts) You're quite right, cos it's nice to have a wordy sketch.
Yeah, the failings of the IMF does an opera that kind of thing.
- Yeah.
- (Both fart) But then you need something like this to provide a bit of balance.
(Both fart and sigh) Doesn't really go anywhere, does it? No, and how do you end it? I suppose the obvious ending would be one really long and incredibly loud fart.
OK.
(Tiny fart) So there are various holes which we're hoping to fill.
I know you've been working hard to come up with suitable candidates.
If we start with the accountancy position, as it's the most straight-forward, what are your thoughts? I have had an idea, I think you'll be surprised but hopefully excited as I am.
What do you reckon to Lindsay Davenport? - Presumably not the tennis player? - The former world number one, yes.
Right, what are her qualifications? Well, she's won three Grand Slams, an Olympic gold medal.
- World number one - In tennis? Yes, this is all in tennis.
She's known by fans as thoughtful and well-balanced, and she's the tallest woman ever to win a Grand Slam Singles title, so it's all good.
Right, I just wonder, I mean I'm totally with you here, Greg, in what way any of these things qualify her for an accountancy job? Are you suggesting that working out your payroll is harder than winning Wimbledon? No, it requires different skills.
Dedication, determination, peak physical fitness, excellent ground strokes.
I'm not sure we'd need those last two.
They couldn't do any harm, look at Sue Barker.
What does that even mean? Well, she never really had the ground strokes.
You're not convinced, I can tell.
It was just an idea, let's move on.
Right.
Head of Marketing.
Well, I think I'm actually gonna surprise you again.
You're not suggesting another tennis player? No, no, no.
I was actually gonna suggest the same tennis player, Lindsay Davenport.
OK, I'm not sure what she has to offer the world of business.
You say that, but she's actually recently been considered for a major accountancy post.
Greg, I haven't got much time, let's move on again.
The really important post which we must fill is Chief Operating Officer.
I'd like to hear what your suggestions for that are, but I'm going to ask you not to say Lindsay Davenport.
OK, well, business is about thinking outside the box and not always working to the brief you've been given.
So I might be about to surprise you again when I say that I am gonna say Lindsay Davenport.
I'll be honest with you, Tim, if you go for Lindsay as Chief Operating Officer, there's one drawback.
- Which is? - A gap in Accountancy and Marketing.
Greg, have you interviewed any serious candidates for any of the jobs? To be honest with you, I was so impressed by the meeting I had with Lindsay Davenport, that I pretty much called off the search.
I mean, she is terrific, she's so tall.
Have you actually got anyone else on your books at all? Oh, yes, of course There's erm ahem Alan erm Davenport.
Quite a coincidence.
Yes, isn't it? No, no, I'm just going through the 'D's.
So tell me about Alan.
Well, he's tall, likes tennis, bit of a womanly bearing, excellent ground strokes, known as Lindsay to his friends.
Get out.
What did you do that for? - Ahhh! - Oh, hilarious, Gordon, really funny! (Gordon chuckles) (Groans and screams) - (Crash) - What did you do? Sprayed his pants with bubonic plague, and put a cobra in his helmet.
I was signing a letter when it struck me.
I've never thought about my name before, but suddenly it was so obvious.
- What was? - Surely you see it? David Mitchell, Mitch-ell - Mitchell, yes - Mitchell or Mithchild.
- Mithchild? - Yeah, Mithchild.
David, the child of Mith, sort of like the Messiah.
You think you're the Messiah? You have to admit the evidence is compelling.
Have you gone mental again? The Mithchild forgives you.
- Tell me, James, what do they call you? - James.
And what is your surname, he who they call James? You know what my surname is.
Barkman Man who barks, bark of tree and bark of dog, trusty yet wooden.
You travel with the Mithchild with your gentle leaves and love of crisps.
- Woman, who are you? - Oh, fuck off.
The Mithchild forgives you, Olivia Coleman, coal man, man of coal, man who delivers coal May your carbon footprint not trample on the Bark Man's delicate wood.
That sounds rude.
Entangle me not, Webb! The Mithchild fears the gluey fronds of the spider You get the general idea.
What do you reckon? What, as a way of being sort of all the time? Yeah, the Mithchild.
Any good? - I think I prefer you sort of normal.
- Normal, stay normal, good plan.
Yeah, that's what I thought probably.
I really liked it.
The Bank of England have announced interest rates Sorry, I have to interrupt you there, we're getting reports of some astonishing breaking news.
It appears that an invasion of Earth by an unknown but vastly powerful extraterrestrial aggressor is underway.
Details are sketchy, but reports are pouring in from across the world of vast metallic crab-like creatures laying waste to all they encounter.
So, a massive and unstoppable alien attack threatens the Earth.
What's your reaction, are you affected by the end of civilisation? Maybe you live on Earth or know someone who does.
How do you feel? Email us with your thoughts on your imminent molecular evaporation at bbc.
Co.
Uk/emergencyapocalypse address, all one word, and let us know.
Already this issue seems to have provoked a lot of comment.
Lucinda Richards from London asks, "Will these aliens be required to pay the congestion charge? "Somehow, I think not.
"It's one rule for us and another rule for alien beings.
" And Gerard from Dover called our letter line number to say, "As I'm approaching my 80th birthday, "I think I'm entitled to comment 'twas ever thus.
"I remember when a certain Mr Hitler tried to overthrow this sceptred isle.
"Like him, I think these aliens might find Britons are harder to conquer than" Then he just tails off into screams.
A quick update if you're more interested in the news rather than what people you don't know think about the news, London has fallen to the aliens.
But more importantly I can also tell you that Sophie from Manchester says, "Say what you like about the alien killer-crabs "but by God they can organise an invasion.
"We have a lot to learn from them though we better be quick.
" And lastly on a lighter note, Carl from Oundle writes, "Where's Dr Who when you need him?" In fiction, I imagine.
- He's right there, worst luck.
- Indeed.
We're running out of time both on the programme and just generally.
My producer tells me that the giant alien crabs have breached TV Centre and will imminently vaporise us all.
And if you want to see that, log on to our behind-the-scenes web cam.
Simply go to bbc.
Co.
Uk/watchusfry, all one word, and click on