"This programme contains some strong language" "Hello, the Nutritionist Partnership." "Yeah..." "Yeah." "Have you tried turning it off and on again?" "No, sorry." "I used to work for an IT helpline." "I mean, it sounds like you're intolerant to wheat." "Not at all!" "That'll be 60 quid." "Bye now." "Oh, my God, Mike!" "The game's up." "What's happened?" "I've got a woman in there complaining of the usual stuff - you know, sometimes she's tired, sometimes she's full, sometimes she's hungry, friends have complained of her moaning." "Textbook stuff." "Fine." "So I hit her with, "Have you tried cutting wheat out of your diet?"" "and then started printing off the bill, like usual, and it doesn't work!" "Have you tried turning it off and on again?" "No!" "Not the printer, the patter!" "She said, "I'm definitely not intolerant to wheat,"" "which leaves me pretty much stumped." "Usually they just pay up and all those feelings of sluggishness get masked by the more strong feeling of, you know, really wishing they could have some toast." "OK, don't panic." "If she's not buying wheat, try dairy." "Have you told her that we all smell of off-milk to the Japanese?" "She said she didn't care!" "Blimey." "So what I was wondering was, shall I still try and flog her the gluten-free vegan ready meal or will she spot that it's just boxes of rice?" "No, don't even try." "You need to bring out the big guns." "I'm gonna go online now and buy you another doctorate and I want you to go in there and demand to have a look at her shit." "Blimey!" "Then charge her top dollar for the most ridiculous personal diet plan that no human could ever stick to and live." "That way either she dies or she can't complain, because she didn't stick to her plan." "OK." "And make sure you tell her that there's loads of fat in crisps." "It's irrelevant, but it is at least true." "Off you go." "I've got to go on The One Show in a minute to talk about super foods and I haven't made one up yet." "I dare you to say it's white veal." "You're on." "So, moving on." "Um, things are still looking a bit ragged around the Scottish border, so I thought what we needed to do is create some new earldom, put all the major castles under that and get someone to really organise and streamline the whole operation." "MUTTERING" "So, er, who's up for that, then?" "Sire, as your foremost northern Lord, I feel perhaps I may be best placed..." "Ooh." "Really?" "I thought this might be one for..." "Lucentio." "What?" "Again?" "Problem?" "Well, no." "I just think that Lucentio's got quite a lot on his plate at the moment." "Has he?" "Well, yes." "He's Lord Chancellor, Archbishop of Canterbury," "Lord High Admiral, Lord Privy Seal..." "Stop it!" "Keeper of the Royal Money, Taster of the Royal Cake," "King's Most Favourite Fellow, Chief Wardrobe Adviser and Plague Tsar." "Oh, come on, guys." "He is our top guy." "I mean, no offence, fellas, but, you know, I always say my other barons bring me problems," "Lucentio brings me solutions." "COUGHS" "What was that, Northumberland?" "Er, nothing." "With respect, Your Majesty, what solutions?" "I mean, what's he actually done?" "I don't know where to start!" "What hasn't he done?" "All right, what hasn't he done?" "He hasn't won a war with France." "Now, now!" "That wasn't Lucentio's fault. .." "Was it?" "The French were on bloody good form that day, bloody good form." "And you've got to hand it to them..." "What?" "Normandy." "We had to hand it to them." "Well...yes, yes." "All right, but I mean, come on, guys." "I mean, you all like Lucentio, yeah?" "ALL:" "Um..." "Yeah!" "I mean, you all like Lucentio as much as I do, right?" "ALL:" "N-N-N..." "I don't think we all like him quite as much as you do." "Well, he speaks very highly of you, Warwick." ""I've really come to see Warwick as a friend."" "He was saying that to me just the other day, weren't you?" "Yeah, thanks." "Um..." "Thanks, Lucentio." "Christ!" "See!" "That's better." "Good!" "Right!" "So Lucentio is Earl of the Northern Marches." "Right, what's next?" "Oh, yes!" "OK, so it's Lucentio's half-birthday next week." "So, who's got a daughter who's a virgin?" "Oh, God!" "What?" "I just got a text from Phil " ""Sorry, can't make it to your party." ""Day after we move." "Will be in unpacking hell."" "What's wrong with that?" "It's fair enough." "Yeah, but he's only saying that to make sure I know he's moving, because the last time I moved, he helped me, and he wants to make sure I return the favour." "I think you're reading too much into it." "No, no." "I'm reading the follow-up text." ""Phil's just saying that, because the last time you moved he helped you" ""and he wants to make sure you return the favour."" "Why would he text that?" "And why is he referring to himself in the third person?" "Is that a new phone?" "Yeah." "Ah, that'll be it, then." "You've got subtext turned on." "What?" "It's a whole new thing." "With every text you get a free subtext." "Look, hold on." "Message one " ""Brilliant review in the Independent, Rob, that's more like it!"" "Message two - "Sarah is only saying that" ""to let you know she's read the awful review in the Telegraph," ""the one that goes on and on about your teeth."" "Oh." "What now?" "I'm just texting Phil back something jokey and non-committal, but it's come out as " ""My failure to help you move" ""will hasten the decline of an already dying friendship." ""We won't meet again until a chance encounter in a branch of Halfords in 2013" ""which will end in my buying a cycle helmet I have no need of," ""just to avoid going for a drink with you."" "Ah." "You've got predictive text on." "MAN: 'It's the education debate that just won't go away.'" "Amazing!" "'Both Government and examining boards have found themselves under fire this week 'when it was announced that in this year's A levels, everyone got an A.'" "Wow!" "You got A's!" "So, what did you get?" "14 A's." "And you?" "Ah!" "Well, it's been a wonderful year and it's great to see the students letting their hair down and taking some well-earned recreational time." "INTERVIEWER:" "And what do you say to the claim that the exams have got easier?" "Which is up?" "Which is up?" "Why can't people accept the simple fact that every year for the last 30, teenagers have grown empirically cleverer by between 3 and 7% without a single dip ever." "But, of course, with so many successful students, the pressure on university places is greater than ever." "Well, of course, everyone's got such excellent results these days that it's impossible to tell them apart, so we've had to go back to nepotism." "What about meritocracy?" "Social mobility?" "What happens to children from poorer backgrounds?" "Well, they have all these A's these days, but then so do the posh kids, and the posh kids are expected to go to university, so we feel the kindest thing is to let them." "Strong words there from the Regius Professor of Philosophy and GCSE Textiles." "Education Minister, what's your response?" "I just find it very sad that at this time of year, the chattering classes seek to disparage..." ""Disparage"?" "Slag off." "Oh." "Sorry, the Words Module stopped being compulsory the year above me." "..seek to slag off the achievements of our nation's youth." "But how do you respond to fears that the knock-on effect of easier and easier exams will inevitably lead to a decline in our very civilisation?" "That's an utterly spurious hypothesis." "Where?" "!" "And by the time that happened, we'd notice." "Minister, thank you." "Well, coming up next on BBC Two, something of a treat for culture vultures," "Lesley Garrett and Dr David Starkey introduce footage of kittens falling over." "Good night." "Toilets upstairs, coffee machine in the stairwell." "Be careful, though, it doesn't take £2 coins and the espresso tastes like boiled shoes." "Right, everyone, listen up!" "This is Detective Constable Mike Bussmann, he'll be joining us from today." "I'd like you all to make him feel very welcome, subject to the provisions of the Sexual Harassment Act of 1975." "Right, back to work!" "Er, Mike, you'll be working with one of the old school," "Detective Sergeant Alan Christmas." "Christmas!" "What?" "Christmas, meet your new partner." "Er, Mike Bussmann." "Good to meet you." "BURPS" "Ooh!" "Sorry about that." "Always get a bit repeaty after sprouts." "So, you're the new boy, eh?" "Well, come on, let's get going." "Oh, I'm driving, am I?" "Well, I'm not." "I've had 15 sweet sherries already this morning." "RADIO PLAYS "Silent Night"" "Have you had all the green triangles?" "No, Sarge, I haven't touched 'em." "Aitken's running the biggest counterfeiting operation in the southeast in there." "Bank notes, forged passports, those little V-shaped tickets you get at the deli counter." "You name it, he'll print it." "Cracker?" "Another one?" "Got two gross of these to get through, you know." "Oh, that's nice." "A little hair clip in the shape of a butterfly." "Except the butterfly's got a cat's face." "Don't they have some unusual animals in China?" "Are we waiting for Aitken?" "Not likely." "He spends most of the year on Canvey Island as a tax dodge." ""Why did the dog bark?"" "What?" ""Because dog is hello boy himself gratefully."" "Should have got the ones from MS." "Sarge..." "Must be Knowles." "What's he doing?" "Er..." "Exchanging something." "Ah, plain brown parcel." "That'll be socks." "It's cash." "Cash!" "Typical." "Where's the thought?" "A real present should be something home-made." "I blame book tokens." "They're looking this way." "Quick!" "Get down." "It looks like they're making their move." "Right, it's now or never." "Let's nick 'em." "GUNFIRE" "Sorry." "Sorry." "I haven't missed the Queen, have I?" "Oh." "It's always sadder at this time of year." "So, HMS Lucentio it is." "Good name." "Right!" "So, I think that just about wraps it up for today." "Um..." "Could I have a quick word, Your Majesty?" "Yes, of course." "See you in a minute, Luch." "It's..." "It's about Lucentio." "Oh, good!" "Isn't he great?" "Yes." "Yes." "But, um..." "Well, what we were all wondering is whether you might like to have sex with him." "What?" "Have sex with a man?" "What are you talking about?" "Well, it's a bit left-field, I know, but hear me out." "OK." "What we were wondering is what it is you like about him." "Well, he's just so brilliant!" "I mean, you know, he's full of ideas, he's just so good at stuff..." "STRING TWANGS" "He's committed, he's a team player, he's just a great guy to have around." "Right." "And you're sure it's not just that you'd... you'd quite like to, you know, really...give him one?" "No, I don't think so." "Well, I just wanted to say that if it was that, then we'd all be fine about it." "I mean, technically, we think it means you'd go to hell, but, you know, that's long term, and we'd totally support you." "Right." "Cos, just think about this." "Are you absolutely 100% that instead of giving him every important job in the kingdom, many of which he has, to put it nicely, completely screwed up, you wouldn't rather just have a bit of a massive sweaty tumble with him," "while the rest of us, you know, sort out the admin?" "Oh, I see." "And it would mean that Lucentio was a lot less busy, was away a lot less." "He's always away." "Is he?" "I miss him when he's away." "I can't really sleep." "So, what I'm saying is..." "He smells good, I will say that." "Right." "God, he smells good!" "Yes, so..." "What's stopping you?" "Well..." "Do you think he'd be interested?" "Well, he..." "He barely touched Northumberland's virgin." "That's true." "I think you're definitely in there, Your Majesty." "Do you think?" "Yeah, but remember - just to have sex with him and not to give him loads of important jobs." "OK, well, er...wish me luck." "I mean, we're both cellists with the National Orchestra of Sweden, which is great for us, but..." "But it does involve spending quite a lot of time in Sweden." "So that's quite a lot of travelling with our cellos, which are quite heavy." "Which are heavy." "You know, putting the cellos in the car and taking the cellos to the airport, going through check-in with our cellos." "So the choice is..." "um, move to Sweden, which..." "BOTH:" "N-N-N-N..." "N-N-N..." "Or the only logical alternative - turn our house into an international airport." "Well, it's been three months since I last talked to Ben and Kerry Bishop about their dream of turning their three-bedroom terraced house here in Peterborough into an international airport." "So, let's see how they've been getting on." "So, we're here in your garden." "Er, you know what question I'm gonna ask, don't you?" "Where's the airport?" "Where's the airport?" "Yeah." "Well, it's turning out to be quite a lot harder work than we thought, isn't it?" "Yeah." "It sounds boring, but it really just comes down to a question of space." "I mean, Ben started work on the first runway, which was gonna go sort of here." "But then BA, amongst others, were very strict about the length." "Yeah, they've been really inflexible about the length of the runway, actually." "How long do they say it's gotta be?" "About two miles." "Right." "That's quite a lot longer than your garden." "Well, it is...horizontally." "But we offered to make the runway vertical." "I mean, just dig down for two miles." "But then the council got involved and said that we were gonna run into problems with pipes and cables and ultimately...magma." "All right." "So you've run into a bit of red tape and delays." "How's that affected the budget?" "Well, the original budget was £23,000, which I know sounds like a lot, but..." "Yeah, it sounds a lot, but we want to do it properly." "Yeah, exactly." "Um, but now it's..." "Well, it's really leapt up to, um..." "What is it now?" "84..." "£86 million." "Where did the other two million come from?" "Fire engines." "You see, at this rate, we're gonna have to sell another cello." "Ah, Hennimore!" "Why aren't you wearing that name badge I had made up for you?" "Oh, sorry, sir!" "I forgot, sir!" "I didn't know your first name was Nontgonery." "Oh, yes, sir!" "Well, make sure you wear that always, Hennimore." "How can we at Munnery Municipal Namebadges expect to sell name badges to the world, if we don't wear them ourselves?" "Quite right, sir." "Now, I know there have been a few problems with morale recently, what with all this nonsense people have been spreading about our printing press confusing Ns and Ms." "I designed the printing press myself and just ran up this sign to prove that there's absolutely nothing wrong with it." "You can read that sign clear as a bell, can't you, Hennimore?" "Er..." "It says" " Need a name mnemomic?" "You need a name badge!" "So make sure to make that phone call to Munnery Municipal Namebadges." "We're a namebadge phenomenon." "OK?" "Right, sir." "So, in order to get everyone's spirits up, I'm organising a clubs and societies day and have agreed that the Murder In The Dark Club may use my office to play their terrifying game." "So you need to be here at four o'clock to let them in when I shall be in a neeting." "Did you say "neeting", sir?" "Mo." "On an unrelated note, one of my wife's charities, the Society For Nervous Incontinents, are holding their annual wine tasting in a room just up the corridor." "It's a lovely day for those poor people and they all get massively full-up on wine." "Oh, that's nice, sir." "Now, it's barely worth my mentioning what a disaster it would be if a group of full-bladdered nervous incontinents were in any way to come into contact with what the Murder In The Dark Club are hoping will be their most shock-filled session to date." "I can see that, sir." "So, for the avoidance of doubt, I've run up a couple of signs for you to put up on the respective doors." "Initially, I went with these." "Nervous Incontinents Tasting Day on your left, of course, and Murder In The Dark to my right." "But then I thought, "Hold on!"" "Belt and braces!" "What about all this N and M confusion?" "So instead, I've gone with these." "For some reason, I seem to have put MOT instead of NOT, but I can't see that being a problem." "So, you just need to make sure you get the right notice up on the left door, by which I mean the correct door, and you should have no problems at all." "This time, Hennimore, I could not have made things easier for you!" "SCREAMING" "Hennimore!" "# You keep on giving me the hold up Hold up" "# You know I wish you'd make your mind up" "# Cos when we get it on, it's so so" "♪ You used to be my Romeo... ♪" "Being a prosto's brilliant!" "I mean, it is our most serious work to date." "Thanks." "But then, that's because the story we were telling was so important to us." "Yeah." "I mean, when you see a prostitute on the television, it's all drugs, knives, beatings, babies and AIDS." "And it is all those things, but we wanted to show the positive side, you know, how sexy it all is." "I mean, a lot of these women are feminists, that they feel empowered by, um..." "By..." "Hang on." "By being able to earn a living." "Yeah." "Yeah, the one I went with - for research - she had A levels, a flat, mobile phone." "You know, she was doing it cos she wanted to." "She didn't want to, you know..." "Starve." "Temp." "She didn't want to temp." "She loved it." "She told me she really fancied me, actually." "Do you think she meant it?" "Course she meant it!" "Why would she say it, if she didn't mean it?" "I can't believe you're a prostitute!" "We did our degrees together at university." "Yeah!" "But who wants to be a doctor or a lawyer when you can be a prostitute, like me." "A proper one, I mean." "Not one of those grim ones." "A nice, pretty, clean one, which, in reality, most of us are." "What?" "You mean it's like having a shish kebab rather than a doner?" "You're less likely to get ill?" "Exactly." "I mean, those grim street-corner ones are just a media myth, anyway." "Most working girls..." ""Working girls"?" "Oh, it's just a feminist word for prostitute." "Most of us are having a brilliant time, having brilliant sex with really interesting men, like, um, writers... or screenwriters... or men from London who write for TV." "Yeah, I mean some people have said that it's all just male fantasy." "Lesbians!" "Mainly lesbians." "I mean, some normal people, as well." "But what these lesbians don't realise is that the whole show comes out of real conversations with real hookers." "I mean, this is real-life drama." "It's so real, it's basically just like a documentary that we've made up." "Yeah." "It's not just an adolescent fantasy of an ideal woman, like Weird Science." "PLAYS GUNS N' ROSES:" "Sweet Child Of Mine" "MAN:" "Belle, can I get you anything?" "Oh, I'd kill for a beer!" "Cheers!" "Mm." "That last one was on the house, by the way." "Was your go on the house?" "No." "CRICKETS CHIRRUP" "COCK CROWS" "BIRDS TWITTER" "WHIRRING AND HAMMERING" "GRUNTING" "Sorry, do you mind if I...?" "Fuck off!" "Fuck off!" "You fucking fuck off!" "You fuck!" "THUD" "OK, what's the number?" "I'll just write it down." "David, can I borrow your pen?" "No." "No?" "No." "What sort of person won't lend someone else their pen?" "The sort of person I could be friends with." "I can't believe you're not gonna lend it to me." "You will soon." "Just give me the pen!" "All right, Robert." "I will lend you my pen, if you sign this." "What's this?" "Terms and conditions." "You acknowledge that you are borrowing my pen and must return it to me as soon as you've finished using it to write down this number." "You undertake not to chew the end of my pen at any time while it's in your possession and you agree only to use the red and green Biros and not the blue and black ones, because those are my favourites." "All right, fine." "If that's what it takes to get you to lend me your pen, I'll sign it." "Can I borrow a pen?" "No." "# Der-der-der" "# Der-der-der der-der-der... ♪ Der-der... ♪" "Is that the theme tune to The Bill you're humming?" "Yeah." "Yeah, this is a bit like..." "How dare you?" "!" "The old opening credits to The Bill featured the feet of two POLICE officers, two pairs of police officer shoes." "Not one pair of police shoes and some flippers, or one pair of police shoes and some espadrilles, or wellies or the hind legs of a cat." "It was a policeman and a policewoman walking along." "And you're not even a policewoman." "I think that's a bit sexist." "At least it's institutional sexism." "If you said it, it would just be sexism." "You haven't got an institution." "Or not one that anyone cares about." "Did you see Britain's most senior community support officer on the news last night?" "No." "Neither did I." "Come to think of it," "I'm wrong about why this isn't like the old opening credits of The Bill, because, in reality, that was two people who were pretending to be police officers, whereas here we just have one person pretending to be a police officer" "and one person who actually is." "I'm not saying I'm a proper policeman." "That's a good job, because that's a very serious crime for which I could send you to prison." "Only one of us could send the other one to prison." "Can you remember which way round it is?" "Er..." "Let me help." "Go to prison." "Go on, piss off!" "Go to prison." "Find the nearest prison and go to it." "I won't..." "Knock on the door and say I've sent you to prison and you're to stay there." "OK." "In the name of Vectron, I bring you greeting, Chancellor." "Vectron be with you, Ambassador and may the power of Vectron bring prosperity to your house." "BOTH:" "Hear, hear!" "By Vectron!" "What news of our galactic endeavour?" "Vectron smiles upon us, Chancellor." "By Vectron's eyes, I'm glad to hear it." "Indeed." "Our endeavour proceeds as if Vectron himself was helping." "As I'm sure he is, by Vectron's golden wings." "ALL:" "Praise Vectron!" "In the name of Vectron, I ask for further mandate to pursue the endeavour." "By Vectron, you shall have it, and gladly!" "LAUGHTER" "I thank you and take my leave." "For Vectron!" "ALL:" "For Vectron!" "Indeed, these are joyous times, by Vectron." "I agree, by Vectron!" "Excellent!" "Um, Chancellor..." "Yes." "Um..." "Who's Vectron?" "What?" "!" "This Vectron we all keep mentioning, what...?" "Who is he?" "Don't you know, by Vectron?" "No." "You see, about three weeks ago, I was ill." "So, one Thursday I was away and then when I came back on the Friday morning, it was all Vectron, Vectron, Vectron and no-one's really explained." "Just three weeks ago?" "But Vectron is eternal!" "He is the end, the beginning, the circle..." "Honestly, Steve, no-one..." "I mean, none of us had ever said the word "Vectron" in our lives until I took that day off." "Maybe you're right." "I think it's really Tim you should be talking to." "I am pretty sure he started it." "OK." "Glad greetings, Vice Sky Marshal, by Vectron's name." "I thank you, by Vectron's kindly claw." "Yeah." "Um, Tim..." "Pete had a question for you." "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah." "All this Vectron stuff, that was you, was it?" "I don't think so." "Isn't it the scrolls?" "The ancient scrolls of Vectron, written by Vectron himself in the first age of Vectron." "Um, no." "Pete says it all started three weeks ago when he was ill." "Oh." "Well, maybe." "I'm sure there was something about scrolls." "Didn't Geoff find the scrolls?" "Geoff!" "The scrolls, was that you?" "I don't think I ever saw any scrolls." "Right." "Cos this is an interesting question." "Because we have been talking a lot about Vectron and, quite rightly, Pete wants to know why." "Yeah, totally." "But, by Vectron, I..." "Yeah." "Shall we just leave that until we've sorted this?" "Right, yeah." "So, who was the first person to say "Vectron"?" "See..." "I really thought it was you, Tim." "No." "I did lose my plectrum a few weeks ago, I was asking around." "Do you think plectrum, Vectron?" "It's not very likely." "I think it's that." "Yeah." "It's probably that." "Mm." "I suppose, we must all have seemed a bit daft." "No, no!" "No." "I feel a bit daft, I must say." "No, I think..." "I mean, it sounded good." "It was good." "Yeah." "Right, then." "No more Vectron." "OK." "Life seems a bit empty now..." "without Vectron." "Yeah, it does a bit." "I miss Vectron." "Me, too!" "I think, actually, even I miss Vectron a bit." "Oh, that's nice." "Look, why don't we just open some wine and see if we can get back into it?" "Might be worth a try." "By Vectron!" "By Vectron's knees, let's crack open the Chablis!" "ALL:" "For Vectron!"