♪ Well, let her dance with him all night long
♪ Let her dance to our favourite song
♪ Let her dance with him Let her dance all night long... ♪
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Hello!
I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to be appearing
on what is basically a children's TV channel
looking like an old fucking tramp.
How you all doing?
How you doing, Gigantor? How you doing, big man?
Fucking hell, you've not just fought bigger men than me,
you've shat bigger things than me. How you doing, big fella?
That's a sinister fucking head you've got there.
The only way your picture's ever going to appear in the paper
is above the caption "Police suspect the real figure may be much higher."
Are these people with you,
or have they just been drawn into your orbit?
How are you doing, man? What's your story?
You've got very negative body language.
You just did a sort of shrug of, "I don't know what my story is.
"To be honest, Frankie, I only came to a couple of hours ago
"in a skip with no trousers, covered in seven different types of semen."
How you doing? Are you his girlfriend?
No.
No. A very definite no, there.
Do you know him?
Yeah.
Ah. Outreach worker?
What's happened with the hair here?
What?
Again, I don't mean it to sound horrible,
but it's like Boy George in a chemotherapy wig.
Sorry, there was no way that wasn'tgoing to sound horrible.
Because it was horrible, that's what went wrong there.
Do you know that half the people in Britain who give Botox injections
aren't qualified in any way?
Now, the people that have been victims of these guys are shocked and horrified -
although you wouldn't know it to look at them.
Actually, women, if you don't want to have wrinkles, put on weight.
Put on a couple of stone, that will take up the slack.
Why be a raisin when you could be a grape?
What I'm into myself, sexually, is leather.
I say leather, I mean older women.
Britain's oldest woman to give birth gave birth recently, she was 63.
I'm sure that was actually a magical moment.
I'd have loved to have been there when her dust broke.
Can't be easy getting up in the middle of the night
aged 63 to change a soiled nappy.
Especially now she's got a baby.
Still, it must be nice being able to breastfeed it
without having to lift it out of the cot.
I couldn't have sex with someone that old, because they might die.
They might die during sex.
And I don't know that I could trust myself to stop.
APPLAUSE
(POLITE ENGLISH ACCENT) 'This Christmas, meet four children from Glasgow...
'And join them in their discovery of a magic wee hing.'
Welcome, children.
What the fuck is that?
Children, children, what do you ask of me? A Christmas wish?
You do wishes?
Young sir, I do.
Name your heart's desire and with a sprinkle of moonbeams
I shall make your fondest dream come true.
Make our next-door neighbour have a black baby.
I've got money on Celtic for the Cup, make Rangers fucking blind.
Just do it, you fucking wee dick.
Aargh!
Dead leg!
Aargh!
You've shattered my hip.
Oh! Oh, God.
Please, no. I can make your toys come to life for an evening.
No, shag this rabbit.
Uh, uh, uh, uh. Oh!
Oh, children... Children... Oh, children... Please...
My apologies, Mrs Rabbit.
Oh, no.
Uh, uh, uh. Ohhh! Uhhh! Ahhh! Oh, the shame!
Ha-ha, ha!
Children, please, no! No, please, children, no!
THUMP!
Oh!
There, there.
Thank you, Lucy, you're very kind.
Just trying to make sure you're better.
I bet my Christmas money you'll be able to fight off this dog.
Jesus Christ!
Oh, shit!
Get the fucker!
Get off me! No! No! My face! My face!
'This Christmas, experience the wonder of The Magic Wee Hing.'
I'm making a movie called Black To The Future.
Will Smith travels back to a high-school prom in the 1950s,
where he serves drinks.
He rapes the prom queen, and in the process
becomes the grandfather of Barack Obama.
I'm also making Mission Impossible 4, a two-and-a-half-hour movie
where we watch Tom Cruise try to fuck his own wife.
Another project I'm very excited about is a movie
that I'm making that's a biopic of the Manson Family,
where Eddie Murphy plays all the roles.
It's called Kill Pig, Die Pig: Dr Dolittle 3.
I must hurry or I'll be late for ballet class.
Where's Miss Blazac?
Oh, never mind what happened to me, children.
You need to practise for the recital.
Elaina, let's take it from your part of the performance.
Get the fucker!
SCREAMING
Oh, my! I seem to be giving birth to hundreds of tiny blind babies.
COUGHING
(MUNCHES)
(WHEEZES)
(COUGHS)
Hey, you're wearing a fur coat.
It's not that fucking cold, so you are a show off. Eh?
How are you doing? What do you do?
I'm a fashion student.
You're a fashion student?! Let me tell you, you are not.
APPLAUSE
Did you see Lady Gaga turn up at the MTV Awards
in a dress made from meat? See that?
She got headlines all over the world. If Susan Boyle had done that,
all she'd have got would have been a tranquilliser dart in the neck
and a lifetime ban from the deli counter at Lidl.
You know what I love?
I love the way Susan Boyle always says that she's never been kissed.
On that evidence alone,
Scotland's alcohol problems are not as bad as we thought.
She's never been kissed, but she is Scottish,
she will have been fingered on a school trip to Largs.
No kissing, just some really intense eye contact.
I went for four there, for some reason.
The bowler's grip.
Thumb in the belly button, the bowler's grip.
♪ I dreamed a dream...♪ Fuck you!
I love the way they always go, "Still a virgin, Susan Boyle."
Still a virgin. Like that's going to change
at any point in the near future!
If she was the last woman on Earth,
I'd use her as bait to trap a wild animal that I'd be happier fucking.
If I had a choice between seeing Susan Boyle naked
and being gang-raped by squaddies,
I'd buy the first round of WKD myself.
Hi, I'm Chuck Wochek.
And this is my story.
I've come a long way, you know,
for a guy whose first childhood memory
is waking up in a sack with a house brick and some kittens.
I'm just one of those guys, you know?
Like all of the old-time stunt guys,
I guess I've always just been addicted to pain.
Though I could only ever feel it in my face.
It's always hard to get started in the stunt game, but luckily,
directors started to cotton on to my talent for playing corpses.
Check that he's dead.
Hunh! Unh!
Ah! Unh!
Arrrgh!
Ah!
I don't know.
Urrrrrrrgh!
THUD!
Give him that bayonet again.
Aaarrrgh!
Currently I'm working on the new Fantastic Four film
doing the Human Torch stuff.
Apparently liquid helium burns better than petrol.
It wasn't always this easy.
My first big break was working on Jaws.
I know the movie scared lot of people, but to me,
it felt like I was getting a massage.
None of my stuff actually made it into the movie.
Spielberg preferred the takes he did with a haunch of lamb.
There's a sound company that wants to employ me,
apparently beating my body with pickaxe handles
sounds exactly like footsteps in the snow.
And you know the real secret to all this?
In the stunt game you'd better find yourself a real supportive partner.
I was lucky enough to find a lady who didn't mind 20 years of spooning
and who stuck by me through everything
and gave me four wonderful children.
Well, life couldn't be better.
After a few more jobs my face will be conditioned enough
that I can double for Mickey Rourke.
From hereon in, it's all gravy.
I have mental health problems.
There's a lot of stigma attached to mental health,
a lot of people are unfairly stigmatised
when their conditions allow them to lead perfectly normal lives.
Who the fuck am I talking to?
Who the fuck...?!
Who...urrnh!
Urrrrnnhh!
GROANS
(Oh... Oh, baby.)
Oh, yeah!
It's OK, sweetheart. We're just cuddling.
Honey, we're just cuddling.
They stole my fucking dildo.
APPLAUSE
For me, the luckiest guy in the world - Jack Tweed.
Jade Goody's old boyfriend.
Cos he presumably made some money out of selling his story.
Got plenty of sympathy sex. Apparently consensual.
Doesn't have to bring up the kids, they're somebody else's kids.
And, because she died from cervical cancer,
during the three weeks that they were married
she got thinner and better-looking and her pussy got tighter.
Before the cancer, she'll have had a fanny like a canoe.
You wouldn't have known whether to finger her or get in and row her.
I'd have liked to have been at that wedding ceremony, man.
"Till death do you part?" "Friday? Yeah, sure."
Heather Mills, she gets a hard time in the papers, doesn't she?
I quite fancy her. I'd do Mills.
It would be like shagging an evil pogo stick.
Who cares about her leg?
It's her face you'd be finishing on.
The person I feel sorry for in that story is a Linda McCartney.
Linda McCarthy must be spinning in her hemp-weaved death basket.
Apparently Jordan and Peter Andre
are fighting each other over custody of Harvey.
Eventually, one of them will lose and have to keep him.
I have a theory that Jordan married a cage fighter
cos she needed someone strong enough to stop Harvey from fucking her.
Stephen Hawking nearly died last year, luckily they sorted him out.
They just switched him off and then on again.
It came out recently that Hawking had said that God doesn't exist.
Something he's based on the fact that he's stuck in a wheelchair
and Keith Chegwin can walk.
Tiger Woods got divorced, had to give his wife half of everything.
What's she going to do with 6,000 Trojan condoms and a fake moustache?
Did you see that story the tabloids were going nuts about?
The paedophile bikini?
There was a bikini on sale at Primark.
Aimed at kids, but it had a padded bra.
Surely the last thing a paedophile wants to see is tits.
What that bikini was, was a paedophile deterrent.
And it should have been marketed as that.
The bikini bottoms should have had fake pubes coming out the sides.
There you go, wee Jenny. No-one's going to want to fuck you now.
They'll think you're a dwarf with a hygiene problem.
Did you enjoy Michael Jackson dying?
That was good, wasn't it?
I think in the future when people say,
"What were you doing when Michael Jackson died?"
everybody will reply, "I was texting a joke
"about Michael Jackson dying."
Even the guy that was reading it out on the news
had a look in his eye like, "I've got one!
"This is going to be good."
I have a theory Michael Jackson developed the moonwalk
so that he could move towards children
while it looked like he was walking away.
We should have left you a note or something.
Look, we made sure we washed it before we put it back.
It's just the principle of the thing, OK? You should have asked.
You're right, we should have asked, I'm sorry.
Doesn't matter.
Clearly it does matter.
We wouldn't be having this conversation if it didn't matter.
It's your dildo and you have every right to be annoyed.
Look, let's all just forget about it.
It's a lovely day, why don't we all go for a picnic?
That's a lovely idea.
I'll go and get the dildo.
Professor, what is the Latin word for victory?
Well, Julian, who better to ask than Julius Caesar? To me, group!
Professor McKechin's young friends
were among the luckiest teenagers in the world.
Because the professor could travel through time, by wanking.
Gosh! Ancient Rome!
Won't we get lost again?
No, I've made adjustments to the ball harness.
Terence, you're twisting them too hard!
They're too big!
Lash them to the wheel!
Careful, Terence! You nearly had us asking
Latin vocabulary questions to Jack the Ripper!
Behold! Ancient Rome!
Oh, no, Professor! We appear to have landed in prehistory!
Yes, uh, got a bit carried away, there.
Quick! Get us out of here!
I'm trying!
This is the very reason we went into the future,
to give Terence that magnificent tit transplant.
Terence!
To me everybody!
(GROWLS)
(SCREAMS)
Gosh! We made it!
Well, three of us!
God knows what those cavemen will have done
to Terry and his magnificent tits.
Oh, don't worry, Julian.
In real terms, Terry's been dead for thousands of years.
Join us next week for the professor's final adventure.
If only could reach my hands...
Any last requests?
I know this is going to sound odd,
but could you take my cock out and wank it for me?
(SCREAMS)
Yes, that's given me a semi. Do it again!
(SCREAMS)
Professor! Professor!
Oh, no! It's too late!
Professor! Oh, Professor!
Oh, Jesus! Jesus Christ!
What was the message in tonight's show?
It was fuck Ireland.
Now, I'm not saying that Ireland's a bad place, you understand.
But it's not the best country in the world.
I got sucked off in a park in Denmark.
Beat that, Ireland.
But you know, if you want to raise umbrage over what I've been saying,
then I suggest you get yourself down to the dilapidated bowling alley
that I spend every Thursday in playing the local homeless
in one of the most stomach-churning games of strip poker
you ever seen in your life.
Well, do it.
And I'm going to show you heavy, father fucker.
That's the one catchphrase we've got in the show,
"I'm going show you heavy, father fucker."
So we hope that catches on among little kids.
The reason we say "father fucker" so much in this show
is that you're not allowed to say motherfucker on TV,
but no-one's thought about father fucker.
My favourite thing on TV is those anti-drinking adverts.
There's always a drunk woman staggering about
and a drunk woman falling over. I watch those and I think,
"That's right, there's drunk women out there.
"Better get my coat on."
I always practise safe sex, myself.
What I do is I hang about outside an STD clinic
and chat up women who come out looking relieved.
My favourite story ever
is the Michael Barrymore story, cos it just keeps coming back.
Every so often the papers, or sometimes the police,
will come out and go,
"Perhaps we'll never truly know what happened on that night."
Well, a dead guy's turned up full of drugs and spunk.
I reckon I could take a fucking guess at it!
"Oh, what could have possibly happened here?"
"We've got a dead body with an arsehole like a vintage golf bag."
Thanks very much, that's the end of the show.
You can all go and fuck yourselves
till the same time next week. Good night!
Subtitle by Red Bee Media Ltd