# I was walking along
# Minding my business
# When out of an orange-coloured sky
# Flash, bam, alakazam
# Wonderful you came by
# I was humming a tune
# Drinking in sunshine
# When out of that orange-coloured view
# Flash, bam, alakazam
# I got a look at you
# One look and I yelled "Timberl"
#"Watch out for flying glass"
# Cos the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out
# I went into a spin and I started to shout
# I've been hit, this is it, this is it #
There are some things in life without which we just couldn't function as human beings.
One is freedom of thought,
the other is new, high-energy Glucogum,
as chewed by Fatima Whitbread.
In this country, we take freedom of choice for granted.
But we shouldn't forget that in other, more repressive parts of the world,
men can still be thrown out of office for crippling the economy
and destroying millions of jobs.
Constitutionally, of course, that can never happen here,
in a free-market economy.
Unless someone cuts the Queen's head off,
and then she would have to send for the Leader of the Opposition,
which would plunge us straight back into the Winter of Discontent.
But of course, freedom of choice also means self-reliance
and the ability to stand on your own two feet.
And although I have been unable to stand even on one foot
since being tragically maimed for life in a horrific road accident,
I am determined to fend for myself, come what may.
That's why, although my nephew, Gordon, generously took me in
when I was turfed into the gutter by Her Majesty's bailiffs,
I never forget to show my gratitude
by doing those little jobs around the house I know he appreciates so much.
Uncle Godfrey, this was my best white shirt.
I know. I washed one half in an ordinary, inferior detergent
and the other in biologically improved Banquo.
Why?
Being so deeply concerned for my health and happiness,
Gordon has often suggested I should get out of the house more,
for lengthy periods at a time.
And so, a couple of weeks ago, I took up some voluntary work
in an area where my skills were most suited.
Hello. Samaritans.
(# Bolero on TV)
Are you still cleaning up out there, Uncle?
It's the second-gravest concern facing our nation today, Muriel.
According to recent market reports,
after Labour's economic policy,
more housewives are worried about germs under the rim than anything else.
Oh, leave it, please. I'm sure it's fine.
That's why I owe it to my family to see they're protected
and guard against harmful bacteria
that lurks around the S-bend.
Well, you just be careful with all those cleaning fluids.
(Gurgling)
You know certain combinations of those things can be quite dangerous, don't you?
- Pardon, Muriel? - (Explosion)
(Man) Yes, it's here at last. Nuts & Bolts.
The simple, new, do-it-yourself guide to a modern, exciting lifestyle.
Decorating problems? Not any more,
as we show you how to tackle the trickiest tasks
with the expertise of the professionals.
Using easy-to-follow language and simple diagrams,
Nuts & Bolts explains the DIYs and wherefores
that will save you and your family a fortune on home improvement.
Part 1, on A-frames and air vents, is available now,
with Part 2 absolutely free.
Buy it today and discover how to transform your house
into a dream home others will envy.
Nuts & Bolts. The unique encyclopaedia of all home maintenance.
Can you afford to be without it?
(Drilling)
Oh, God spare us. It's like living underneath the A-Team.
- Don't begrudge him a little hobby. - (Hammering)
What's he trying to do? Knock the earth off its axis with a chisel?
If he'd asked, I'd have helped him.
But no, he has to be so bloody independent all the time.
That's old people, isn't it? Now, come on, it's Spain or Sicily. Which d'you reckon?
- Well... - (Whirring and banging)
Oh, Christ! How can we go away and leave the house at his mercy?
I mean, why go and see Mount Etna when we can stay here
and watch Uncle Godfrey pour dangerous chemicals down the lavatory?
The fire brigade said he was a very lucky man.
Goodness knows what he was mixing together.
They should put proper warnings on those bottles.
Come on, I've got to phone them before five.
- Can we make a decision, please? - Well...
It's either lie on a beach for two weeks, surrounded by 500 screaming kids...
or get our kneecaps blown off by the Mafia.
- (Noise upstairs continues) - So, Sicily it is.
Right.
- Of course, it's not finished yet, obviously. - Oh, no. Obviously.
I've still got another 12 more shelves to put up yet.
- You've ripped off virtually the entire wall. - That's right, Gordon.
Unfortunately, I won't be able to repair it until August 21st next year.
Plastering and brickwork doesn't appear till issue 67.
It's incredible, isn't it? With this easy, step-by-step guide,
in no time at all I've become an all-round handyman.
Issue number three of Nuts & Bolts,
issue number two of Complete Medical Knowledge,
issue ten of Green Fingers,
Cajun Cookery Made Simple,
The History Of Hats,
Paints And Palettes,
Guns In The Gulf,
Practical Needlepoint,
A To Z Of Air Disasters,
Sex And Sexuality
and what was the new one? Oh, yes. Money Sense.
L47.60.
- There we are, sir. - Thank you. Bye.
Bye.
Oh! Hello, Mrs Templeton. You keeping well?
Not so bad, Mr Spry. Still a bit achy down the legs sometimes.
- Ah, yes. Arteriosclerosis. - Beg pardon?
Arteriosclerosis. You get it in your arteries. Like the abdominal aorta.
Along with atherosclerosis and angina in the atriums.
Or it could be an aneurism. Or ankylostomiasis.
- Oh, my God. - Oh, I shouldn't worry.
There's always amputation. Bye.
Acne To Condom. Constipation To Gonorrhoea.
Gout To Leprosy.
You'll be opening up your own surgery soon, then, Uncle.
We neglect our bodies at our peril, Muriel.
Not for us the mindless mollycoddling of the nanny state.
We live in a society today that rewards self-reliance.
That's why, from now on, I choose to beat the queues with Medibeds.
According to DF Henderson of Reigate,
the Bedfordshire private medical care plan brings complete peace of mind
with its prompt, first-class service
and easy-pay monthly premium arrangements.
And DL Willis of Biggleswade writes,
"Please accept my heartfelt, eternal gratitude
"for your magnificent, prompt and courteous treatment.
"Joining Medibeds is the most wonderful and glorious thing
"that has ever happened to me."
And with a free rectal thermometer if you enrol before June 13th,
waving goodbye to all those NHS waiting lists really couldn't be more simple.
Mm.
Right, Mr Spry...
fill this up for me, would you, please?
And slip your clothes back on.
Righto, then.
(Ring-pull hiss)
(Pouring liquid)
Right. Well.
It looks a bit full, Mr Spry.
That's because there's 10% more than there used to be.
- I beg your pardon? - It's cool, clear and smoothly satisfying.
Which may surprise you when you see where it came from.
I really don't think that'll be necessary, thank you very much.
Aah.
Liquid gold. It's the way Bruce brews it.
(Gulps)
- So, how did it go, the medical? - Couldn't have gone better, Muriel.
Aside from the doctor retching up in the wash-basin
halfway through the examination.
They don't tell you if you've been accepted straightaway, but it'll only be a formality.
- Of course. - (Doorbell)
I'll get it.
Ah. Good afternoon. My name's Colin Wingrove.
I'm one of your candidates at the local elections this week.
Will you be voting for me at all, may I ask?
Oh, yes, I certainly will.
- Which party d'you belong to? - I'm sorry?
- Which party? - Er, the Conservative party.
Are they the ones with butter melting in their mouth?
- I beg your pardon? - Are they the ones who eat a slab of butter
with "Socialism" printed on it, that straightaway melts in their mouth?
I think there was a party political broadcast.
Or are they the matadors from the Daily Mirror,
waving a red rag covered in bullshit?
I don't take much notice of the tabloid cartoons, I'm afraid.
- Is your wife in at the moment, at all? - Not at the moment, she isn't.
Is she a Conservative, may I ask?
Well, she never used to be but, of course, that was before she was dead.
Ah. Well.
Erm, if I could just leave our manifesto with you anyway.
Which, as you'll see, shows unemployment has actually fallen
by 2.5% since March last year
and there are now more than enough job opportunities
- for those who are prepared to work. - Oh, right.
Good afternoon to you, then.
(Gordon) Is that someone at the door?
"Job opportunities."
- So, it's Mr... - Spry. Godfrey Spry.
Right. Erm...
Are there any particular areas of work that you'd like to be considered for, Mr Spry?
Yes. Branch manager of the Midland and Mercia Building Society, please.
- Branch... manager? - That's it.
There's no mention on your form of any qualifications for this kind of work.
Oh, no. I can do it.
Erm... how exactly do...
"Problems with money, sir? You've come to the right place."
- I'm sorry? - "How are you today, madam?"
"How can we be of assistance? Step this way, sir."
Yes. Er...
I can't help wondering if you're really suitable.
I can climb up the cliff.
- The cliff? - With all the other men and women.
So we spell out a big double-M on the side of the rock.
I've got crampons and a beginner's guide to mountaineering and everything.
So, I'm perfectly equipped to join Britain's fastest-climbing family of investors.
We've got a vacancy for some kitchen staff.
That includes 42% from our Australian holdings.
Erm... assuming it's feasible.
Yes, well, we'll talk to Neville about that tomorrow.
Let's have some lunch now, shall we?
How did the European survey work out, by the way?
Not too rosy at the moment. They're keeping their cards close to their chest.
Right. Hoping the A-share will be convertible, presumably,
on a read-by basis with...
What the hell's this?
- It's a Warrington's Wham bar. - I can see that.
We're waiting for our lunch.
Oh, yes, it's a complete meal in itself.
With chewy cherries, chunky caramel and light, light nougatine,
a Wham on the way sees you right through the day.
Who's responsible for hiring this cretin?
(Owl hoots, dog barks)
(TV) Imagine a city where you can cycle wherever you please...
without ever meeting a car.
Now, it's not worth getting yourself upset.
Gordon and I don't expect you to find employment, not at your age.
There's no excuse for it, Muriel.
Job opportunities are everywhere for those with the will to work.
- (TV)... a city where you can be at work... - It's me.
...and still be in the country. - Of course it isn't you.
There's something wrong with me, Muriel.
People don't want a cripple.
Now, you mustn't say that.
Now, look...
you get a good night's rest, hm?
(TV)... where you can have the house of your dreams
and a dream of a house.
A city where children and parents alike
- can share the joys of the... - (TV off)
Night-night.
(Door creaking)
(Birds twittering)
I don't know! He was gone when I came in with his breakfast this morning.
I thought I'd give him a lie-in before I w...
Well, you tell me...
Where would he disappear to at this time of the morning?
Oh, God, I don't believe it. Eight days before we go away.
I'm just not meant to have a bloody holiday this year, I know I'm not.
(Ringing)
S... Hello?
Uncle Godfrey, I've been worried sick! Where are you?
What on earth did you want to go there for?
It's the city of golden opportunity, Muriel.
In Milsham Wold new town, dreams really do come true.
But... but... how on earth d'you think you're gonna ma...
- (Beeping) - Hello?
Uncle Godfrey!
- (Beeping) - I'm sorry, Muriel, I've got to go.
I'm off to take advantage of
the Government's new, super, job-relocation programme
and discover for myself the exciting spirit and enterprise
that makes Milsham Wold a commercial utopia.
(Shouting, laughing)
All right, Grandad?
I can't remember if it's 8 or 9.
(TV) # A Wham on the way sees you right through the day #
- (TV) I'm Tandy de Silva... - Hello, Muriel.
- (TV off) - Hello, Uncle. How are you feeling now?
Not too bad, Muriel. Several acute abrasions
that will probably need asepsis and antibiotics.
They've already administered analgesics and analeptics
and carried out an arteriogram, I expect.
Mindless gangsters.
- All this for how much? - L7.60, Gordon.
And that new watch you gave me for Christmas, Muriel.
Lovely room. Even for private.
Yes. Which just shows the prompt, tip-top treatment you can expect
as a valued member of the Medibeds private healthcare plan.
Applying to join Medibeds' growing band of satisfied patients
really was the most sensible decision I ever made.
- Turned down. - Oh, no. On what grounds?
His age, chronic muscular disability...
general impairment of nervous co-ordination
and, in the examiner's view, mentally severely unstable.
In other words, too ill.
With a fillet steak, I think, quite well done.
And another bottle of Comte de Cluquant, as well.
And a box of Victor Velázquez panatellas
in case someone drops in to savour that mellow moment.
Thank you.
(Whispers)
# When you need someone to care
# When it seems that no one's there we'll be at your side
# In a world of so much pain
# We can help you ease the strain
# Always at your side
# You owe it to yourself and those around you
# To pick your way to where the rainbow ends
# You have perfect peace of mind
# You can leave your cares behind
# With Medibeds, know that you're with friends #
(Coughing)
This isn't a hospital bill. It's a national debt.
Just write the cheque, Gordon.
I mean, what's he been using? Gilt-encrusted bedpans?
(Sighs)
You better stand by with that. I'm about to lose an arm and a leg.
Sister says they're going to keep you in another couple of weeks,
- make sure you're on the mend. - Two weeks? But I've got to go to work.
Work? What's he t...
I mean, come on, you'll be just as comfy here as down there
and you've got... company and everything and... and all these...
(Bleeping)
...these nice people to chat to and...
And you've got a terrific view of the er...
the gasometer there.
I think it's really cheerful. Isn't it, Gordon?
Yes. Yes, of course it is.
And, I mean, you couldn't wish for a merrier bunch of people to chat to.
- (Monitor flatlines) - And besides...
(Alarm)
I expect I'll be fine, Muriel. Don't worry about me.
The main thing now is that you and Gordon go off and have a really wonderful holiday.
(Snoring)
(Children giggling)
Superintendent Sugden.
Well, well, well, who'd have thought it?
Well, that's the complete works of Agatha Christie.
I wonder what else they've got in that bookshop. A little Marcel Proust?
(PA announcement) Your attention, please.
We apologise once again for the delays to all continental flights.
This is due to a combination of industrial action by French air-traffic controllers,
a security alert at Budapest
and the grounding of several charter aircraft
due to a design fault in the tail-fin.
We anticipate that passengers boarding flights to Rome and Catania
will have no more than 30 minutes to wait, at most...
before we make another announcement. Thank you.
- What are you looking for? - Ah, here we are. Obituaries.
Yes, just as I thought. We've both died of old age.
You know, there's never been a better time
for British business.
And now that the European market has opened up
there really are opportunities galore
in free enterprise for everyone.
Oh, yeah? Well, what's in it for me?
There's plenty. The new Government Jobsworth Scheme
offers you the same money as on the dole and you get compulsory retraining.
- You coming? - OK. Might as well give it a try.
And that was just the beginning. They taught me a skill, gave me work
and paid me my benefit into the bargain.
But some of us have been unemployed for yonks.
Yeah, but with new Fresh Start, we can learn all about different jobs
we never thought we could do before.
Hey, you were right. And I thought unemployment was rising.
Six months ago, when I said I'd got an idea
for a new kind of clothes shop,
my friends all laughed at me.
But now, thanks to the Government's Small Business Initiative programme,
I'm the one who's laughing, all the way to the bank.
People who moan about no work and no jobs
should either brace up or belt up.
(Man) Employers or unemployed, whoever you are, you can benefit from
the Government's new Jobsworth programme
from the Department of Employment, the Ministry of Action.
(TVjingle)
And abroad, there was more chaos today for holidaymakers.
With the French air-traffic dispute settled,
a 24-hour stoppage by British controllers
left thousands stranded at foreign airports
in sweltering temperatures of over 130 degrees.
Dominic Beddoes spoke to some of them on their return.
- How do you feel about the delay, sir? - How the hell d'you think I feel?
As if it wasn't bad enough spending my holiday in the airport lounges of the world,
I get here and have to submit to an intimate body search by customs officials!
- Excuse me, sir... - I tell you this.
If I'd had any ecstasy up my bottom I'd have taken it by now!
Don't worry! I shall get straight onto my MP about this...
(Clattering)
(Relieved sighs)
Never thought I'd be so glad to get home.
Muriel.
(Keyboard tapping)
- Good morning. Can I help you? - What?
- Do you have an appointment? - An appointment?
I'm afraid Mr Spry has a rather heavy schedule this morning.
But if you and your colleague would like to take a seat,
I'll see if he's got a moment free to fit you in.
"Take a seat"? These... these are our seats.
- I think I should explain. We are... - (Phone rings)
Good morning, Spry International. Can I help you?
Uh-huh. Yes.
No, I think he said he was going to be in Paris on Tuesday.
The week after? That's lovely.
We will write to confirm. Right, then. Bye.
- I don't know what the hell this is about... - Where exactly is Mr Spry at the moment?
- He should be in his office. If you'd... - (Phone rings)
Excuse me. Spry International.
- This has just about gone beyond a joke. - (Bleep, whirring)
Yes. If you'd just like to give me details, then I can place the order for you.
How many? Uh-huh. Yes.
Right. Uh-huh. Yes.
Yes, I will. Ah! I'll phone you back on that one.
Gordon, Muriel! You have a nice holiday?
Well, er... Well, bit of delay at the airports each end, you know, but by and large...
Never mind all that. What's going on here? What have you done to my house?
- Didn't my secretary explain, Gordon? - Since when did you have a secretary?
She started on Monday. She's very good.
I got her from Bernard Lennox, where the girls who are smart get a head start.
Where did all this come from? Who's paid for all this?
Oh, of course. Since you've been out of the country, you probably don't know.
Britain's become a nation of flourishing free enterprise,
where slumps are a thing of the past.
If you've got the guts and the get-up-and-go,
the Government will back you to the hilt
with their wide programme of capital investment and tax incentives.
See? I've filled in all the forms. It really couldn't be more simple.
With state-support grants, my new company will soon be enjoying
a boom economy with jobs for all.
Exciting, isn't it? I expect you'd like to take a look down on the factory floor.
The factory floor?
Here we are. Look.
All right, Mrs Mumford?
Yes, thank you, Mr Spry.
- What's she doing here? - Knitting tea cosies.
Yes, I can see that. Why is she knitting them inside my garden shed?
You're the lady who was in the next bed in the hospital.
Er, how are you getting on now? All right?
I think so. As far as they can tell, you know.
Oh. Good.
- I thought she lived in Milsham Wold. - That's right, Muriel. She commutes.
Am I to understand that this is the business you were talking about?
Well, even Sir Charles Forte had to start somewhere, Gordon.
He didn't start by knitting bloody tea cosies!
- Gordon... - Did he?
Look, erm... Uncle, it'd be lovely to see you get on,
you know, make a go of a little idea like this, earn a bit of extra money.
But don't you think it would be a good thing first of all if you...
(Knock on door)
Sorry to interrupt, Mr Spry.
Wolverhampton just called back to confirm that order for 3,500.
- Delivery at the end of August. - Lovely! Thank you. Right.
Hear that, Mrs Mumford? Three and a half thousand.
How many have you done so far?
Two.
Oh. Right. Better get a move on, then.
- You all right for needles? - Yes, thank you, Mr Spry.
Jolly good.
I think we'd better have a little talk.
I think we should wait till she leaves,
then I'll take him aside for a quiet word.
Meantime, we may as well start unpacking.
Now, then, let's have I... Ah.
There we are, then.
What about the yellow and the mauve? I think they go quite nicely together.
What do you reckon, Mrs Mumford?
Mrs Mumford?
Mrs Mumf...
Yes, it has all been a bit confusing, I'm afraid.
- I didn't realise. - Don't worry. I'll sort it out with the agency.
- Thanks. Bye. - OK. Bye-bye.
We'll get the office suppliers to take all this back in the morning.
Is he... Is he still down there?
Presumably.
Came back in a second ago, said he needed some hot water.
Have you had my two big kitchen knives out of here, at all?
- What? - They've disappeared from the rack.
- Oh, hello, Gordon. - Jesus Christ.
Muriel, I'm afraid there's been the most awful tragedy.
I wonder if you could go and get me issue three of my Complete Medical Knowledge?
Aspirins To Autopsies.
Mr Spry has admitted quite openly
that he had known the deceased for about two weeks.
Not a significant period of time in itself
but quite sufficient, as we shall see,
to hatch a cruel and callous plan
to lure this defenceless old lady to a shed at the foot of his garden...
and there, brutally butcher her to death.
- Oh, for God's sake! Are you all mad? - (Muttering)
He didn't kill her. Why don't you just leave the poor, old sod alone?
- (Bangs gavel) - Silence! Silence in court!
- (Talking continues) - (Gavel)
Silence! Silence in court.
But you don't deny, Mrs Spry,
that when you entered the building you actually found your husband's uncle
in the act of slicing open Mrs Mumford's body
with a pair of your own carving knives.
Yes. But...
he... I think he was trying to carry out a... a post-mortem.
- A post-mortem? - Well, he must have been reading about it.
And he erm...
I should explain something about Uncle Godfrey. He's not really, you know...
No further questions, Mrs Spry.
And upon searching the accused's bedroom,
we came across a large number of magazines,
respectively exhibits B1 to B27.
(Barrister) And the titles of these magazines, Sergeant?
One collection was entitled A Who's Who Of British Murders,
From Acid Baths To Zombie Cults.
The other, Blades And Bullets, A History Of Deadly Weapons
And Their Lethal Application Over The Last Two Centuries.
(Barrister) Mr Spry, did you or your wife, at any time,
hear the deceased woman, Mrs Mumford, crying out or screaming for help?
Absolutely not. We heard no sounds of violence whatsoever.
Interesting.
Could that be, I wonder, because the accused had already taken the precaution
of lining every wall of the garden shed with thick balls of wool...
to absorb and dampen any sound?
- Oh, for God's sake. - Thank you, Mr Spry.
I mean, why in hell would he want to kill her? It doesn't make any sense.
No further questions, m'lud.
Can I just say something at this point? It's...
I think you've said quite enough already, Mr Spry.
It... it's not my uncle who should be on trial here today.
I'll tell you who should be on trial. It's the people who've made him like he is.
The people who've made all of us like we are and...
- Silence in court! ...sucked all the sense out of our heads
and filled us full to the brim
- with witless, syrupy... pap! - Silence in court!
Who... programme us like user-friendly computers to do exactly what they want.
- Silence! - They're the murderers.
Murdering our minds. Uncle Godfrey's just more susceptible to it than most.
That doesn't make him a criminal! I mean, whatever happened to free will?
Will you get your hands off my testicles?
Silence in court! Silence!
- (Talking continues) - I will have silence!
(Bangs gavel)
Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?
(Godfrey) And so, as it always does,
justice, in the end, prevailed.
I was found guilty, with diminished responsibility,
and sent away to a hospital for the criminally insane.
Name?
As a result, I never found out whether the Government agreed
to pour large sums of investment into my new business initiative.
Although I did gather there was a slight hitch over planning permission
for the garden shed to be used as commercial premises.
Meanwhile, the people at the hospital
couldn't have made me more comfortable...
with their kindly assistance and regular courses of electro-convulsive therapy.
(Key turns in door)
What do you think?
About the same, really.
- (Fabric tearing) - Oh, damn. These were new on today.
(Tuts)
Maybe you should have bought a pair of Sleek'n 'Silky snag-resist tights
from Christina Rioche, France's top house of hosiery.
Yes, maybe I sh...
C'est le choix de Paris pour les jambes jolies.
Pardon?
Nothing. Just my mind wandering.
(Woman) If only my teapot smelt like Jean's.
Her dishes always look so zippy-clean, too.
I wonder what her secret is.
But your cups and saucers can smell zingy-fresh, too, Sally, when you use thi...
What are you doing? That's the television Gordon and Muriel gave me.
What are you doing?
(Echoing footsteps)
(Women talking, laughing)
Oh, God!
When she told me that story, it was absolutely amazing.
Absolutely gorgeous. Mm.
Oh, how kind. Thank you very much. These are rather lovely.
- Godfrey, would you like one? - Oh, lovely. Thank you very much.
- (Laughter) - I knew it. Oh, how funny.
(Man laughs) Godfrey, for goodness' sake.
- He's amazing. - He really is, isn't he?
(Voices fading)
# I was walking along
# Minding my business
# When out of an orange-coloured sky
# Flash, bam, alakazam
# Wonderful you came by
# I was humming a tune
# Drinking in sunshine
# When out of that orange-coloured view
# Flash, bam, alakazam
# I got a look at you
# One look and I yelled "Timberl"
#"Watch out for flying glass"
# Cos the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out
# I went into a spin and I started to shout
# I've been hit, this is it, this is it
# I was walking along
# Minding my business
# When you came and hit me in the eye
# Flash, bam, alakazam
# Out of an orange-coloured
# Purple striped
# Pretty little polka-dot sky
# Flash, bam, alakaz-aam
# And goodbye #