"FRENCH ACCENT:" "And ze two shades of lipstick were identical, which means that only you, Mademoiselle Brown could have placed ze cigarette case underneath ze body." "Surely, Monsieur Voirot, you're not accusing me of murder?" "Indeed I am, mademoiselle." "Murder of ze most treacherous and ze most ingenious." "Oh, heavens!" "Surely you can't mean that, Voirot." "It is of ze most regrettable that I do." "Is this true, Susan?" "Yes, Freddie, I'm very much afraid that it is." "Yes, I did kill Lord Carlington." "My God, Voirot, she's doing the evil voice." "Indeed, mon ami, I always know I have got zem when zey start doing ze evil voice." "What?" "Yes, once again I had no evidence." "It has been a hell of a week, to be honest with you, but once they have done ze evil voice, you know it is ze murderer!" "No!" "No!" "I really don't know how this could have happened, Monsieur Voirot." "No, no, too late." "We've all heard you do the evil voice, only murderers do that." "But Monsieur Voirot, I implore you." "Too late, Mademoiselle." "Ze evil voice, it never lies." "And besides, now you are smoking a cigarette out of an evil cigarette holder..." "Damn you, Voirot!" "She's doing it again." "Yes, and she has become sexier." "Now she has evil lipstick and her hair is going evil." "I'm not sorry, damn you, I'd do it again." "Attention, mon capitaine." "In a moment, she will kiss that guy and zen try to kill herself." "Right." "Susan, I don't understand." "Oh, Freddie." "It could have been so perfect, if you weren't such a fool." "Have her tits just got bigger?" "Zis can happen." "Goodbye, Freddie." "Ooh!" "Now then, is this the bit where...?" "Oui!" "Susan!" "GUNSHOT" "Oh, nuts!" "Ah, it is better zis way." "Some courts, they do not accept ze evil voice as evidence." "Well, that's a bit of luck then." "And now, Monsieur Freddie, I wonder if I could trouble you..." "Yes, I did do that massive poo in your en-suite while you were out." "What?" "Non, monsieur..." "And I'd do it again, damn you, whether or not it flushed." "LAUGHS EVILLY" "Er, no, I was just going to ask you to pass me my hat." "COUGHS:" "Oh..." "Edward, thanks for a lovely evening." "Oh, there was that book I was going to lend you, wasn't there?" "Oh, yes." "Now, where is it?" "Er..." "Oh, look, don't worry about it." "No, no, no, no..." "CHEESY INFOMERCIAL MUSIC STARTS" "Hello." "I am Jan Hankl." "30 years ago, I personally patented the flank-patting system for finding books on shelves." "Ah, there it is." "It worked for Edward and it could work for you too." "'For over 30 years now, Jan Hankl has been showing the world 'how his patented flank-pat system can help us all to focus our minds 'and achieve our goals." "'Particularly when looking for a book.'" "30 years ago, I am nobody, then I patented the Hankl flank-pat system..." "And like that, I am Jan Hankl, you know?" "'We know.'" "'Only the patented flank-pat system is like having Jan Hankl himself 'with you in the room, guiding you step by step 'through this unique course of self-betterment and achievementship." "'And here are just some of the famous names 'who have personally testified to Jan Hankl's patent flank-pat system." "'Wilf Long.'" "And what I love about the Hankl patenty flank pat and what so many people love about the Hankl panty-planty plant flap is that it's not just for books, you know?" "People are using the system worldwide for so much, much, much, much more." "'Finding keys... '.." "Jigsaw pieces..." "'.." "Earthquake survivors...'" "Send off for my Jan pankle dangle flat pack today and I'll also send you this." "'Jan Hankl's scissor system... '.." "Hankl's new patent system for finding scissors in the kitchen.'" "The sales task is over, and both teams have made massive profits with their sensible ideas." "So, well done, everyone." "Unfortunately, the format requires that one of you be fired." "Obviously that's a complete departure from what would really happen." "I wouldn't be a millionaire if I fired a fifteenth of my workforce every week." "Just to help me out, does anyone want to pointlessly lie or try and take credit for something they didn't do?" "ALL:" "No." "Worth a try." "Um..." "OK, I'll fire the fat one." "Sorry." "As you can see, it's just not working." "It's a shame." "I thought it would be interesting to watch talented business people competing for a prestigious job." "I wonder..." "Maybe that's the problem." "Go on." "Well, how would it be if instead, it was idiots competing for a relatively junior job." "Idiots?" "Yeah." "We deliberately pick 16 idiots - real idiots, arseholes as well - then we get to watch them screw everything up, it'll be brilliant." "Mmm, but if it's so obvious from the start that they're idiots, surely everyone will expect them to screw up, so what's the point?" "The point is, everyone will think they're the only person to have noticed that the contestants are all idiots." "And I've got a hunch that for some reason, people will think that this never stops being worth commenting upon." "What about the prize?" "I mean, in the pilot it was a £1 million job." "We can't give £1 million to an idiot." "That's what the lottery's for." "OK, so what's the smallest large amount of money?" "You know, the sort of amount an idiot would consider it worth totally humiliating himself for?" "It's a hundred grand." "The smallest large amount of money is a hundred grand." "Excellent." "Yeah." "I think I can see it working." "But surely only for one series." "Once people can see all the contestants are idiots, no-one will want to apply." "Idiots will." "It'll make the application process a lot easier, cos we'll only get idiots." "So it's coverage of idiots behaving idiotically for an audience of idiots." "It's not just an audience of idiots." "There'll be a lot of other people who flatter themselves they're watching with a sense of irony and in some way haven't been taken in." "Remind me, how do these ironic non-idiots show up in the ratings?" "They show up the same, my friend." "They show up just the same." "You're watching the British Emergency Broadcasting System." "The estimated date is March or November, 2013." "It's 19 hours." "So now, as usual, it's time for..." "The Quiz Broadcast." "Hello, good evening and remain indoors." "This is The Quiz Broadcast, coming to you every Friday, the same day as your food parcels." "So, chow down on a protein fudge, take whatever injections are recommended in your sector and prepare to enjoy the show!" "APPLAUSE" "Well, it's between 600 and 750 days since The Event, but that hasn't stopped those of us that survive from enjoying ourselves." "So let's remain indoors and say hello to our contestants." "Hi, there." "ALL:" "Hello." "Uuuuhhhh!" "That's the spirit, Unknown Male 282." "So let's get on with the game." "First round" " Things." "Fingers on buzzers." "What is believed to be the name of this pre-Event leader?" "BUZZER" "Er, Heston Blumenthal?" "Correct." "Multiple choice." "Which of Shakespeare's three plays is now thought to be prophetic of the Event?" "Is it A" " Pericles?" "B" " Cymbeline?" "Or C" " Boeing Boeing?" "BUZZER" "Is it a trick question?" "It is." "Aaaahhhhhh!" "Ahhh-ahhhh-ahhhhhhhhh!" "Oh, dear." "Some horrible memory from The Event, no doubt." "We all get them." "Yes, indeed." "By night, we all get them." "Please, everyone, remain indoors." "While Sheila's being electro-cured, let's see what Peter's won." "That's right, it's fuel!" "APPLAUSE" "Oh, Lionel, glad you could make it." "Can I get you a drink?" "Yeah, something soft." "I'm driving." "Parking's an absolute nightmare round here, isn't it?" "Had to reverse into the tiniest of spaces." "Still, I managed it." "I mean, parking's not exactly brain surgery, is it?" "And I should know." "Why's that, are you a doctor?" "Careful." "Not a doctor." "I'm a brain surgeon." "Big difference." "Big difference!" "Yeah, I actually know a joke about this." "What's the difference between a doctor and a brain surgeon?" "One's not exactly brain surgery, the other IS brain surgery!" "Ah!" "So, er, what do you guys do?" "I'm an accountant." "Oh, that's good." "Yeah, I could do with an accountant." "Filling in those tax forms can get really confusing, can't it?" "Still..." "It's not exactly brain surgery, is it?" "I mean, brain surgery, believe me, is very complex." "Are you an accountant too?" "Er, no, I work for a charity." "Oh, that's a very selfless job, isn't it?" "I admire you." "I don't think I could ever do what you do." "I say that because it's emotionally draining, not because it's hard." "I mean..." "It's not exactly brain surgery, is it?" "Which, as a brain surgeon, is what I do." "Lionel, here's your drink." "Lionel's a brain surgeon, you know?" "Yeah, he mentioned it." "Oh, Jeff, did they keep you late at the space centre?" "As always, yeah." "I'm just going to hand this food round." "Have you met Lionel?" "Er, no." "Hello, Lionel." "So, Jeff, how do you earn a crust?" "Well, I'm a scientist, I work mainly with rockets." "It's..." "It's um..." "It's pretty tough work." "What do you do?" "Well, I don't mean to boast, but er, I'm a brain surgeon." "Brain surgery?" "It's not exactly rocket science, is it?" "They've arrived." "Oh, great!" "Thanks." "What are those?" "It's the new Mitchell And Webb action figure prototypes." "Nobody told me we were doing those." "Oh, they're brilliant." "The toy manufacturers have taken the essence of our personalities and reduced them down to a one-eighth scale doll." ""Talking David Mitchell doll." ""Special features" " David has a 28,000- word vocabulary and three different settings " ""trenchant wit, articulate outrage or quick-fire panel show mode."" "'Thank you for that spectacularly banal contribution to proceedings.'" "Not bad." "What are my special features?" "Um, it says you come with a spare T-shirt." "A spare T-shirt?" "!" "Bloody hell, is that it?" "!" "I think you've got a talking thing too." "'Bloody hell, is that it?" "!" "'" "See, Rob - they're absolutely meticulous in their research." "Oh, look!" "I'm anatomically correct." "I'm not, I've just got plastic underpants." "Wow, they really are thorough, aren't they?" "I fucking hate you." "What?" "I said I fucking hate you, you stupid little bastard." "Walking along next to a proper police officer in your crappy little Community Support costume, like that means something." "Well, it doesn't." "Look, you can flipping well..." "Oh, yeah, "flipping"." "You do well to choose your words carefully." "Swearing at a real police officer is not a good idea, is it, Sonny?" "Oi, now then. 'Scuse me, listen." "You shouldn't be..." "What the hell do you think you're doing?" "Well, he's riding his bike on the pavement." "Sorry." "You stay out of this." "Who told you you could grab his arm?" "Well, I just thought..." "What do you think that is, police brutality?" "I don't think I was being..." "That's not police brutality, that's just Community Support brutality, just normal brutality." "Do you wanna see some police brutality?" "That's police brutality - something you would know nothing about in your official capacity as "just some guy"." "Is he OK?" "On your way." "You wanted to see me, sir?" "Ah, yes." "Come in, Hennimore, I've got rather an important job for you." "Oh, dear, sir." "As you'll be aware, my best and oldest friend Jock is coming in this afternoon and we're to have a round of golf." "Now, I'll be in a meeting until four, so when he arrives at half three," "I want you to show him in, tell him to make himself comfortable and invite him to inspect my newly- acquired set of antique golf clubs, once used by Edward VII." "Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "Got it, sir." "Edward VII." "One important thing to remember is that Jock is a recovering alcoholic and at this stage in his rehabilitation it is absolutely vital that on no account should he get the slightest whiff of liquor." "Right you are, sir." "He was an extremely violent drunk in his day, Hennimore, and bitterly obsessed with his failure to break through as a golf pro, an eventuality which, when in his cups, he lay squarely at the door of American golfer Jack Nicklaus." "Oh right, sir." "On an unrelated note, my wife has just sent me this rather handsome and handsomely stocked drinks cabinet, exactly in the shape of a set of Edwardian golf clubs." "Oh, that's nice, sir." "Isn't it?" "Now you've probably already thought of this, but on no account should you show the fully stocked drinks cabinet to the violent alcoholic Scotsman, instead of the set of golf clubs." "Absolutely, sir." "OK, well, I'll just pop them both on this lazy Susan for now." "And remember, I don't want any screw-ups like last time." "It's been a difficult year for Transcosmic Corridors and the last thing we need is any kind of fracas." "Don't you worry about it, sir." "BOTTLE SMASHES" "Come on!" "Come on!" "Hennimore!" "FANFARE PLAYS" "This, Your Majesty, is the linden tree, which has long stood as a symbol of the loyalty and strength of our people." "It is our hope that as a token of friendship between our two countries," "Your Majesty will accept the gift of 20,000 such linden trees, to be planted throughout your kingdom's many public parks and spaces as gentle sentinels proffering in the heat of the summer sun, both shade to your busy citizens and the linden's sweet distinctive scent." "Ambassador, we thank you, and it is a most distinctive scent." "Prime Minister, may we have a word?" "Excuse us, Ambassador." "Your Majesty?" "Can you smell cum?" "What?" "Can you smell cum?" "There's an incredibly strong smell of cum." "Your Majesty..." "I was wondering if it might be the tree." "It's not you, is it?" "No, it is not me, Your Majesty!" "I don't really..." "I mean..." "I can't say I've really smelt..." "Oh, you must be able to!" "It's potent." "Stop!" "Your Majesty, stop this now." "I beg your pardon?" "!" "I apologise, Your Majesty, but the whole tenor of this conversation is completely out of keeping with contemporary mores." "What do you mean?" "It's not Victorian." "It's a perfectly valid observation." ""Look at the funny wheels on that penny-farthing"" "is a perfectly valid observation for a Victorian, Your Majesty." ""Don't linden trees smell like cum?" conversely, is the sky falling in on our heads!" "Prime Minister!" "Do you know how hot I am under this hat with this beard, this big Victorian beard, Your Majesty?" "I am boiling!" "I am covered in starch and I am boiling." "And I can barely move at home for little vases on stands or portraits of ill children praying." "And what has been the point, what really has been the point of the last 50 years of my being a Victorian, if Queen Victoria herself is suddenly gonna sidle over and ask me, "can I smell cum?"!" "Well, I have to say something." "You do not!" "You do not!" "You are Queen Victoria, this society was your idea." "I am boiling and you will say nothing, not to me and not to the Ambassador." "You say then." "No!" "Prime Minister, either one of us says something now or from this day forward every single park, every single summer is going to smell of cum." "Well, they're just going to have to smell of cum then." "Fine!" "I've cracked it." "Cracked what?" "I've finally rendered the doorbell obsolete." "This is a drawing of a dog being fired out of a cannon." "Exactly." "You simply fire the dog from a cannon through the window of the house you wish to visit." "And that's better than a doorbell because...?" "You attach a note to the dog's face." "No more irritating "Who's that ringing the doorbell?" scenarios." "You write your name and the purpose of your visit on the note, attach it to the dog, fire the dog through the window of the house and hey presto, the residents immediately know who you are and what you want." "OK, I can see the advantages of knowing who's at the door before you answer it." "I'm a genius!" "But I think the positives may be outweighed by the negatives." "There are no negatives." "Except for a broken window, a dead or severely injured dog, the need to carry a large cannon around with you, and the possibility that you're intending to visit several houses and will need several dogs." "No, that's the beauty of this invention." "You can reuse the same dog." "I've never shot a dog through a window, but I'll bet it causes a few lacerations." "Eventually, you'll need to replace the dog." "Key word, "eventually"." "I estimate you could shoot the same dog through 24 windows before it becomes a terrifying lump of mutilated flesh." "You're mad." "Am I mad or simply ahead of my time?" "You're mad." "Right, fine." "But when I'm feted as the man who finally ended the world's reliance on doorbells, don't shoot a dog through my window with a note begging for forgiveness." "CANNON FIRES" "WHIMPERING" "You need a bigger dog!" "I'm gonna try a cow." "Tonight on Hard News, is British television dumbing down?" "Facing the questions, Culture Secretary Will Fenton." "Mr Fenton, good evening." "Good evening." "Firstly, what are you making for us this evening?" "I'm gonna attempt a three-cheese souffle." "Blimey, that is ambitious." "I know." "Pass the cheese then." "Mega." "Well, it's not really about espionage." "It's about the people... and how they interact." "Yeah, you can't really research the spy drama, cos it's all secret." "I mean, that's the one thing that's, you know, not secret." "Was yours the strawberry cheesecake?" "Yeah." "So, you did no research at all?" "Well..." "Does watching Octopussy count?" "Last week on Undercover Secret Spies..." "Here's the secret document." "Sssh!" "But we're in Spy HQ." "Yes, but we could still be being spied on." "Even in here?" "That is so complicated." "That message you intercepted, I can't read it, it's gobbledygook." "My God, they must be using code." "Code?" "Sssh!" "I'll get the code book." "Meanwhile, a good one is for you to assume each letter is one letter up in the alphabet." "What, A is B, B is C and so forth?" "That blows my mind." "Ssshh!" "Ssh!" "Ssh!" "Ssh." "Ow!" "Sorry." "Ssshh!" "Ow!" "Ssh!" "Shh!" "You can't beat a dry Martini, shaken not stirred, in the pub round the corner from Spy HQ." "I just hope I don't leave my briefcase in here like last week." "You're a professional, Steve." "You wouldn't do that that often." "Look, there's something I need to talk to you about." "Ssshh!" "That's just it." "I think I'm gonna have to leave the Spying Service." "Matthew, no-one ever leaves the Spying Service." "They do, if they're hard of hearing." "What?" "Not you as well?" "No, I meant, what do you mean?" "You can't be a spy if you have trouble hearing people talking in hushed voices." "It's like developing an allergic reaction to binocular strap, it's a no-no." "Sir, there's a problem." "I think my wife knows I'm a spy." "How?" "I don't know - late nights, too many unexplained buttons on the dashboard." "Nothing substantial though?" "She hasn't found your spy kit, for example?" "Well, if she has found my spy kit, she's not letting on." "Where do you keep it?" "Like they taught me at the academy, in the bottom of the wardrobe, behind my shoes." "Thank God." "I know what you're saying " "I should kill her anyway." "One more thing - when you buy the poison, write the shopping list in invisible ink." "So, you're a rookie spy?" "New to the world of remembering not to tell people your job at parties." "I might be." "You're good." "I see you've bought newspaper and scissors." "Check." "Well, start cutting eye holes." "Oh, how are you getting on?" "Oh, busy busy, but we should make it." "KNOCK AT DOOR" "All right, bro, how's it going?" "Russ!" "What are you doing here?" "Huh, that's nice." "Great to see you to(!" ")" "Well, no, of course we're always happy to see you, aren't we, Mrs Claus?" "I'll get you a drink." "So, how's the new festival going?" "What was it called, Winter Fest?" ""Winter Fest X" or "Xtrememas"." "The paperwork's not finalised yet, but yes, very exciting." "Oh, that's wonderful, Russ." "Cos, you know, nobody's ever done a combined extreme sports and end-of-year festival before." "It's gonna be huge, and the money... it's gonna make your Christmas look like chicken feed." "Oh, well." "You know I don't do it for the money." "Yeah, well, that was why I was thinking of giving you the opportunity to get involved in my gig." "No, no, no, I wouldn't want to intrude." "I'm happy with my old-fashioned Christmas" " I'll leave the innovation to you." "I'm not talking about a lot of work, maybe just a bit of equity to help until ticket sales pick up, perhaps an endorsement." "Russ, I can't." "Of course you fucking can!" "Why do you think Winter Fest X isn't taking off?" "It's because Christmas is screwing us." "Look, I did suggest at the time that you tried to do more of a summer event." "Don't you bloody do that!" "You owe me big time, Santa." "If I go under again, it'll be on your head." "I thought it was going well." "It's all gone to crap." "All the sponsors have pulled out." "But, what about the big tour bus and all those hotel conferences?" "How could you afford...?" "It's all on credit cards." "I'm in the hole for 40 grand, you've gotta help me." "I don't have that kind of money." "I mean, if you're looking for work, I could offer you a job." "Christ, no!" "Don't put me on the line, not with the elves." "A job's a job, Russ." "And besides, it'll be fun." "We've got some wonderful new toys this year, some really nice stuff." "I'll get some samples from the workshop, two minutes." "So, Joyce, how's it been?" "How can you do this?" "How can you just come back into our lives like this after everything that happened?" "Come on, Joyce." "You swore." "You swore if I got rid of it, you'd never come back." "Maybe I couldn't stay away." "Russ, I can't do this to him again." "Not now." "It's his busiest time of year!" "He's been neglecting you, Joyce." "Working all hours, flying off all over the world." "I don't mind, it's his job." "But you do mind." "You're a woman, Joyce - a beautiful, sexual woman." "And you know what?" "♪ You'd better watch out... ♪" "Oh, no." "# You'd better not cry" "# You'd better not...pout" "♪ I'm telling you why... ♪" "Russ, please..." "# Russ Claus is coming... ♪ To town. ♪" "You're poison." "Have a look at these little..." "TOYS SQUEAK" "Joyce!" "Russ!" "What are you...?" "Joyce wasn't feeling well, she..." "Oh, God!" "How can I have been so blind?" "SNORTING" "Rudolph, no!" "Don't come in here!" "How long has this been going on?" "For as long as you've been ignoring her needs." "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, God!" "This is why you wanted to have the..." "It wasn't mine, was it?" "It wasn't mine!" "Oh, I'm so sorry." "No!" "No, no..." "I'm so sorry." "Look, I know this is a shock, but what's happened has happened." "We're a family, that's what matters, yeah?" "So, come on, let's just get through Christmas."