"Hi, Jamie." "Hi." "Mark Wade, Sunday Times." "We spoke on the phone." "OK." "So, you got ten minutes with him." "Fine." "Obviously he's promoting the new album, that really is all he wants to talk about." "Ah." "So he won't be taking any questions about the stuff he did in the '60s." "Right." "Only, I was going to ask him a few things about..." "Yeah, I know what you're going to say, but Neil has been very explicit about this." "If you go off topic he will terminate the interview." "He's very serious about the new album." "Yeah, but, the thing is most of our readers will be more familiar with him as the first man on the moon." "Whatever he did previously, Neil is now a singer songwriter." "OK, fair enough." "But he hasn't stopped being the first man on the moon." "Are you going to be unhelpful?" "I'm not." "Look, I've listened to the new album." "It's not bad for an astronaut, I suppose." "He's a singer songwriter, how many times?" "!" "Sorry." "If I asked a thousand people who Neil Armstrong was, I reckon approximately all one thousand of them would say he was the first man on the moon." "Actually, no, you're wrong, because I'd say he's a singer songwriter." "OK." "Imagine I'm an alien who's just landed..." "You're not tricking me into space talk." "I'm not trying to." "God!" "Imagine I'm someone who's so breathtakingly out of touch that I'm not sure who Neil Armstrong is, and I said to you, "Jamie, can you remind me, who's Neil Armstrong?"" "What exactly would you say?" "Well, I'd say..." "Yeah?" "He was the first singer songwriter on the moon." "You're watching the British Emergency Broadcasting System." "The alert state is unknown, presumed black." "It's 2600 hours and time for The Quiz Broadcast." "CANNED APPLAUSE, STOPS ABRUPTLY" "Hello, good evening and remain indoors." "Welcome to the second and final hour of broadcasting for this week." "Let's start by welcoming back last week's lucky runners up, Peter and Sheila." "And last week's unlucky winner, Maltesers." "Such a shame that that prize turned out to be contaminated." "So, Peter and Sheila, you're through to the next round." "Will there be food?" "I ate my watch." "Yes, of course, it's two weeks since the last of the food parcels was distributed." "That means it's all to play for, because who knows, one of tonight's prizes might be food." "They keep us alive for their sport." "So, let's start with the odd one out round." "Fingers on buzzers." "Which of these is the odd one out?" "A ceremonial helmet, the last child," "President Butterfly and The Event?" "BELL" "Could we eat Maltesers?" "I'm pretty sure that's against the regulations." "ALL:" "Blessed be the regulations." "Come on, a helmet, the last child, President Butterfly and The Event." "Think about it." "Except the event, don't think about The Event." "Er...is it The Event?" "Yes, The Event is the odd one out, of course, because it destroyed the other three." "So let's move to our headline round featuring this week's guest publication, The Newspaper." "Sheila and Peter, your headline is 'oomsday'." "What was 'oomsday'?" "Was it between Tuesday and birthday?" ""Number three air filtration system has failed." It's happening again!" "That sound means that's all we've got time for." "Blessed be the regulations!" "I can hear them in the dark!" "It seems we're having technical problems." "While you remain indoors and we send Sheila off to be voltage calmed, here's some music." "It's no use, Gilbert." "Ever since the critical failure of our last operetta, I feel completely bereft of ideas." "I just don't know what the public wants any more." "Fear not, Sullivan." "This morning as I was making my motions, an idea came to me fully formed." "HMS Pinafore 2." "HMS Pinafore 2." "HMS Pinafore As Well?" "I don't understand." "People all loved Pinafore, right?" "So we just do it again, with a twist." "Yes." "How?" "What?" "We set it amongst the stars." "I like that." "It's modern." "On a ship that travels amongst the stars." "A starship." "On a mission of great enterprise." "Will this include a case of humorous mistaken identity?" "Of course." "It's brilliant." "Where's my quill?" "# Captain you are passionate, but I am very logical." "The differences between us are" "# Much more than biological A truce with the Klingons, are you mad?" "# You must be mad I'm going to the transporter room" "BOOING, HECKLING" "They hate it!" "They really hate it!" "Where are the tunes?" "Ignore him, Sullivan, it's your best work." "Bargains, bargains, bargains, while bargains last at Didldidi." "You'll never guess where we've cut corners at Didldidi's bumper bargain family sized give away." "Like this chicken-style oven roaster just £1.19." "These Lucky Dip tins of textured-style afters, just ten for the price of one." "And this three litre bottle of fizzy tomato style drink, only 49p." "Didldidi, it all goes down the same hole." "Daniel Darn Tooting, the most iconic screen actor of his generation." "Famous for his blistering historical portraits of Josef Stalin, Custer," "Genghis Khan and Wilf Lum." "He returns to our screens this year as Skeeg Tash in Tash:" "A Man Of Oil." "A towering return to form after the breakdown which saw Darn Tooting abandon acting, seemingly for good, on the set of Marty Tsar's the Boondock Feuds." "BLOWS RASPBERRIES" "And..." "Action!" "You know, it gets harder to kill a man as you get older." "BLOWS RASPBERRY" "Not easier." "Harder." "More hard." "RASPS" "You might think it gets easier, but, in fact (RASPS) the opposite is..." "Get this off me!" "Get this thing off me!" "Get it off me!" "Get it off me!" "Daniel Darn Tooting, it's a great pleasure to see you back at work." "Thank you." "Before we talk about the film, Daniel, your breakdown." "Yes." "Yes." "I, um..." "I can't put a finger on precisely what happened there." "Obviously the character I was playing in Boondocks..." "Bill the pirate." "Yes." "He was a dark character." "In many ways he was..." "So, it wasn't just because of the moustache?" "What makes you say that?" "The footage of you physically tearing it out of your face by the roots." "No, that...oh, that, that was erm..." "I was very tired." "Tired?" "Tired, ill, sick, sick of...sick and tired." "You were sick and..." "Can I get my glass of milk, please?" "Hmm?" "But you're fine now?" "I'm fine... now, yeah." "You're not going to suddenly go spare?" "Spare?" "Because of the new moustache?" "No...oh, no." "This one won't, this one doesn't think that I'm..." "No, thank you." "Thank you, I like it." "Thank you." "Is it for a part?" "Excuse me...yes, for Skeeg." "Skeeg Tash?" "Skeeg T...ash." "Is it glued on, or..." "No it sprout..." "It grewed." "It growed on, it's grown, I should say, on my upper l..." "lip-pppp-ppp." "It's good, it's big." "Yep, they grew them big." "Yep." "Thank you." "There's your milk." "I think I'll actually save that." "Drink the milk." "I don't feel like it." "You asked for the milk." "Yeah." "Of course, yes." "I think I'll... have the milk." "Have I got any?" "Yeah." "And do you also have trouble eating?" "Get it off me!" "Get it off me!" "Thank you so much for coming, happy Christmas." "Merry Christmas." "Merry Christmas." "Ah!" "Hennimore, before you go, I've got a bit of a Christmas favour to ask you." "Oh, little donkey." "Help yourself to a prawn Christ and come with me." "Welcome to the love nest." "This is where the magic happens." "Nice prawn, Sir." "Sorry." "Well, you've probably wondered, Hennimore, why I've taken to sleeping in the office." "I'm not going to lie to you, Hennimore." "I'm going to tell you a horrific private truth of almost genital intimacy and there's nothing you can do about it." "Is this about your perineum again, Sir?" "Not directly, no." "Mrs Boss and I need to spice up our sex life." "What better time to do it than this sexiest of all the sacred festivals, Christmas?" "In order to make our festive banging go with a bang," "I've ordered a top-of-the range erotic bed, the Sexualiser 4000." "It's got self-notching bed posts, 12 lube jets and an eight-speed slap and tickle setting." "I'm sure you're aware how strongly anti-nuclear Mrs Boss has become since joining Ladies Against The Wall, a group dedicated to reaching out to the Communist Eastern Bloc." "So as a special treat, I've had the bed customised with an enormous CND logo." "It's down in our warehouse." "I need you to get it installed up here by midnight tonight." "No problem, Sir." "On an unrelated note, my long time sparring partner and former prisoner of war camp guard Klaus Automobile, now a big wheel of the Mercedes corporation, keeps rubbing my nose in the amount of arse he's getting" "and indeed let slip to me has destroyed his own bed in a particularly torrid hump fest." "I wish I could say the same about ours." "That was the result of nothing sexier than Mrs Boss thinking she could hear the scrape of a death watch beetle and setting about the thing with a bust of Freud and a lacrosse stick." "A passionate woman, Sir." "So I said to Klaus that I'd order him a Sexualiser 4000 as well, as a treat." "Then I hit upon the idea for a hilarious Christmas prank." "In fact I've ordered him a Joke-O-paedic 69, a bed primarily designed for farceurs and humorous hospitals." "It has 41 of the most unerotic settings imaginable, including nausea jets, unexplained custard and dung." "I want you to deliver it to his house by midnight tonight." "It's also down in our warehouse emblazoned with an enormous Mercedes insignia." "Sounds clear enough, Sir." "And chop, chop, Hennimore." "I want you to get straight back here to video mine and Mrs Boss's night of passion on your phone." "But Sir, tomorrow's Christmas." "I can't believe you'd be so selfish." "It's Christmas." "But it's Christmas." "It's Christmas, Hennimore." "But it's Christmas, Sir." "Then we're agreed." "You get those two beds delivered and remember, the only screw up I want is the brilliant screw that I'm going to be..." "I know Sir." "No wait, that I'm going to be having..." "Really, I get it, Sir." "That I'm going to be having right up my wife's..." "I'll be going, Sir." "PASSIONATE GROANS" "Hennimore!" "Chocolate Mitchell?" "No, thank you." "Chocolate Mitchell?" "Chocolate what?" "Chocolate Mitchell." "It's a biscuit named after me." "Why?" "I thought it was time I had a biscuit named after me." "Garibaldi's got one, Mr Richard T has got one." "Why not me?" "But it's just a Bourbon biscuit." "No, it isn't." "I don't know what you're talking about." "Yes, it's." "It's a layer of chocolate fondant sandwiched between two dark chocolate biscuits, exactly like a Bourbon." "No, it isn't." "It's different." "It's nicer." "Bourbons are horrible." "That's lucky, because this isn't a Bourbon." "What, because you've scraped the word bourbon off the top and scratched in Mitchell?" "Carved, do you mind?" "Hand carved the word Mitchell into the top and anyway, this is a prototype." "Soon there'll be two of them when my craftsman's finished carving the other one." "Oh..." "David, I broke another one." "Should probably eat it, probably." "I have it, Gilbert." "Law enforcement." "Ooh!" "Quite good, a bobby operetta." "That's modern." "And our hero?" "He's a plain-speaking, no-nonsense sort of cove, a maverick if you will and has somewhat abrasive manner, much to his superior's chagrin." "Oh, and he carries a blunderbuss." "A blunderbuss, the most powerful hand-held weapon known to man." "This is excellent." "Now what should we call him, this loose cannon?" "He's a baritone I assume." "Unquestionably." "What about Harold?" "Harold." "Difficult to rhyme." "Harry then?" "Harry, marry, carry, tarry, parry, expeditionary." "I like it, No-Nonsense Harry." "New parchment." "# Question you are asking yourself" "# Is how many times have I discharged my blunderbuss?" "# How many times has he discharged his blunderbuss?" "# With all the excitement I quite forgot myself" "# Exactly how fortunate are you feeling?" "GUNSHOT" "BOOS, HECKLING" "They hate it!" "And this is really loud!" "Hello there." "I'm Donny Cosy and I hope you'll join me for A Prayer And A Pint, which this week celebrates its 500th episode from the beautiful city of Tokyo in Japan." "Health and good fortune be upon you this day." "And you know who said that to me this morning?" "My toilet." "And I'm sat here now with the inventor of that toilet, Professor Usheda." "Yes." "Tucking into something you might not normally associate with a Japanese restaurant, pizza." "Now, Tokyo, Professor, being here, I'm finding, is like stepping into fairy land." "Fairy land, yes." "You all look like pixies." "It's hilarious." "But pixies with jobs." "Heaven knows what we must look like to you, great big-nosed trolls." "Or if I was black." "But black people are probably objectively more attractive than white people, once you get over the initial shock." "Shock." "And also I'm finding Tokyo is like actually living in Pac-Man." "Pac-Man?" "In a game of Pac-Man." "Yes, yes, Pac-Man, Japanese." "No?" "Yes." "And the shape, Pac-Man's shape is based on your pizza." "And the shape of the ghosts, what's that based on?" "Ghost, yes." "They're based on actual ghosts?" "Yes." "The Holy Ghost isn't that shape." "Holy Ghost?" "The Holy Ghost." "Holy Ghost." "Holy Ghost." "Oh..." "Holocaust?" "No, not the Holo..." "Pac-Man's not based..." "It's not." "Sorry I don't." "Pac-Man." "Is that Elvis?" "Elvis, yes!" "Elvis Presley, so we've found some common ground." "Pixie madness here in Tokyo, but now it's time for a hit." "This week's request comes from Phil and Meg McQueen from Sulky Abbot in Bumsex." "They have asked for all I want to do, all I want to do, all I want to do is praise him." "CHURCH ORGAN INTRO" "# All I want to do All I want to do" "# All I want to do is praise Him" "# All I want to do All I want to do" "# All I want to do is praise Him" "# What do I want to do?" "# What do I want to do?" "# What do I want to do?" "# Praise Him" "# Who do I want to praise?" "# Who do I want to praise?" "# Who do I want to praise?" "# God. #" "That's us." "Bye." "We've all got gadgets coming out of our ears - iPods, satnavs an electrical item for every job." "To many, it must seem like we're living in the future, but to others, the cry has always been," ""Well, if this is the future, then where's my jet pack?"" "Well, today those people will definitely have a smile on their face." "The fastest-selling item ever to go on sale, over 3 million jet packs have been sold in the last 24 hours." "The manufacturer, the Jet Pack Company, has soared into the record books, a real success story in a depressed market." "I'm here with the inventor of the jet pack and MD of the Jet Pack Company, Mark Pelmer." "Mark, you must be absolutely over the moon." "It's been incredible." "It turns out the whole world has been waiting for the jet pack to be created." "Even with its hefty price tag, every man and his dog has gone out to buy one." "What do you say to those people who suggest the jet pack is dangerous?" "Safety is absolutely our biggest concern." "We've tested and tested and tested." "The jet packs are incredibly safe." "There's no danger of explosion." "The flame burns cold." "There's a height limiter." "They will not run out of fuel in midair." "The jet pack is completely safe." "What about the people using them?" "I couldn't possibly comment." "Now Mark I can't let you go without asking, can I have a go?" "Of course." "Let's take a flight together." "Pete Phillpott signing off." "Let's go." "So, thanks for all coming to this meeting, so close to the end of the day." "You're probably all aware that, due to recent financial difficulties, the company is now in the uncomfortable position of having to seek a merger." "ALL:" "WAHEY!" "Right." "Now, I can't help but feel that the company wouldn't be in this position..." "What position is that Mike?" "The position of having to seek a merger." "ALL:" "WAHEY!" "Mike didn't drink." "Really this isn't a..." "ALL:" "Down it!" "Down it!" "Down it!" "Oh, all right!" "I can't help but feel that the company wouldn't need to seek a merger..." "ALL:" "HOORAY!" "...if we hadn't adopted as company policy the idea of downing a glass of rare vintage claret every time someone says merger." "ALL:" "WAHEY!" "It seriously affected our efficiency and because of the cost of rare vintage claret, our cash flow." "ALL:" "HOORAY!" "I didn't say merger." "ALL:" "HOORAY!" "You did say cash flow." "WAHEY!" "Cash flow?" "ALL:" "WAHEY!" "(SLURRED) New policy, as well as drinking claret every time we hear the word merger, we drink 25-year-old Scotch every time we hear the word cash flow." "ALL:" "HOORAY!" "25-year-old Scotch?" "But that will affect our ca...our balance sheet." "ALL:" "HOORAY!" "Balance sheet as well?" "ALL:" "WAHEY!" "Vodka shot." "No-one told me this." "Didn't you get the memo?" "ALL:" "WAHEY!" "We don't drink on memo." "We've never drunk on the word memo." "Guys, guys..." "He said it twice." "It's a miniature of Drambuie when you say m...er, that word." "WAHEY!" "That's all right, I didn't say memo." "Oops." "I can't be bothered to discuss this now." "Besides, it's gone 5:30, it's the end of the day." "We can talk about the merger..." "ALL FEEBLY:" "Wahey!" "..tomorrow." "Anyone coming to the pub?" "Good idea." "Let's do that." "I think we have to face facts, Gilbert, the British theatre-going public just isn't getting our new work." "We're very disappointed in your new operettas!" "And I had such high hopes for Dangerous Shark With Big Teeth." "Quite." "And who could have known that" "The Girl With A Demon Inside That Was Removed By A Vicar would have been met with indifference." "We're close to bankruptcy." "We need a hit." "Remember the halcyon days, the Mikado, we need that magic back." "Something accessible, something classy." "# Bongo, bongo, bongo" "# Put the white man in the pot and eat him" "# Bongo, bongo, bongo, bongo" "# Hail the queen of Bongo-bongo Land. #" "APPLAUSE" "A-ha!" "A hit!" "Finally, a tune you can hum." "# Bongo, bongo, bongo..." "You don't think we've somehow cheapened ourselves?" "Nah." "All right." "Next question, and it's to Louise." "Louise fielding this one." "Are you ready for this Louise?" "Richard, listen up, of course, because you'll get the chance to steal this if Louise falters." "But she may not." "Let's see." "Louise, answer me this." "It's in the category of people." "People is the category." "Are you good on people, Louise?" "Well, let's find out." "In the category of people, this is to Louise...initially." "In people, which person famously set sail on the HMS" "Beagle in 1831?" "Which person famously set sail on the Beagle in 1831?" "Louise?" "Can you tell me?" "It was..." "Take your time." "Famous ship, of course, the Beagle, carried a famous man or woman in 1831." "We're looking for the name of that person." "What was his name, or her name?" "It's Charles..." "Think it over." "Take your time." "The HMS Beagle in 1831." "Bit of a clue there, of course." "Many people weren't alive in 1831." "Most people, in fact." "Of those who were, some would have been too old to sail and some too young, but not this person." "What was their name?" "Can Louise tell us?" "Yes, Charles..." "Or will it be thrown over to Richard to do what comes naturally and steal the point?" "Richard, of course, we know fond of dogs." "This Beagle, of course, not a dog, but will the name have caught his attention?" "Though that won't help him if Louise knows the answer." "So, let's find out." "Charles..." "As we start the clock." "There we are, the clock has now started." "It's ticking away." "Who set sail on the Beagle in 1831?" "Does Louise know?" "Can she work it out against the clock?" "Though the clock, of course, is just a clock." "She's got all the time she needs, after all, it's not as if we're on TV." "No, no distractions like that." "It's just you, me and Richard, Louise." "Just the three of us, alone on my space ship, heading inexorably towards the heart of the sun." "Because if I've got to go, Louise, if I've really only got six months left, like they say and if all my billions can't buy me a moment's more time, well, two things..." "LOUISE SOBS" "One, I'm not going alone and two, I'm making every second of those remaining months last as long as I possibly... can." "So, once again, the HMS Beagle set sail 1831." "Which famous person was aboard?" "LOUISE CONTINUES TO SOB" "Darwin." "It's Darwin." "Darwin!" "While she's thinking that over, let's take a look at the scores." "Richard has 14,821 correct answers." "Louise is on 12,968." "So everything to play for." "The Beagle, 1831..." "Just a few minutes left to think it over, Louise, before I ask you for an answer." "Certainly no more than 10." "Half an hour tops."