"Residents of Jinsy, stand by your tessellators"
"Now is the time to sing, sing, sing! "
"Daily greet."
This address goes out to all 792 residents
of our island that we doth calleth Jinsy.
791, sir. Mrs Feek just died.
I, Arbiter Maven,
hereby announce the 129th wedding lottery
by order of our noble leader,
The Great He, Jinsy Praise Him.
Jinsy Praise Him. Praise Him.
Put the film on, Sporall.
It's wedding lottery time again on Jinsy.
"Place your belongings in the gender crates provided."
"Say goodbye to your current partner."
Goodbye. Goodbye.
"On wedding lottery day, Mr Slightlyman, master of balls,
will use the latest faceball technology
to randomly select your new breed pair."
"Then it's off to your new chalet for the next three happy cycles."
"Remember to take your faceballs to the Wedding Barn by..."
You know, Sporall, forcing strangers to marry
really is one of the island's finest traditions.
Along with nose hurling, sir.
Oh, I forgot to mention. The Great He, Jinsy Praise Him... Praise Him.
..thought it would be good for PR if one of US got married.
Congratulations, sir. I'll get you a present.
Of course, being an arbiter, I'm immune from this marital bingo.
You're not thinking about putting me in the wedding lottery? No, no.
Not thinking. I already have.
Don't look so shocked, Sporall. You might end up with Miss Jinsy.
She's quite a catch.
"Attention, all residents."
"Due to an influx of electric owls across the island,
residents are instructed not to leave their chalets after lights out."
"When startled, the owls emit a reflex-action photocopy
in either A4 or A5, depending on the age of the bird."
"At 6 and 3 gov clock last night,
Br Bray-o was nearly blinded
when an electric owl clung to his head
and photocopied his face repeatedly."
"If this happens to you,
contact Jerry from Printi-Printi
who will try to prize the creature off."
"Or at least change the cartridge."
I'm trying to work.
That's a carrot.
I wonder who you'll end up with.
What? In the wedding lottery. Oh.
Cyril Hench, the accurate groper.
Wet-nose Pete.
Dingly-dangly Darren.
Sporall, when you speak, it's like words committing suicide.
Thanks. There goes another one.
"Arghhhhh!" Pffff!
Anyway, I know the man I want.
He's got curly hair, a big nose
and claps twice when he enters a room.
Isn't she wonderful! I could almost...
The new version-four tessellator.
I'm going to wire one up in the Wedding Barn
so the island can watch you in full... medium definition.
Move away. Splendid, splendid!
Oh, is the screen touch-sensitive?
I'm wiping your spit off.
Do I really have to get married?
I'm used to my little routine at home.
Yes. It's decided. Here's your faceball.
Let's have a quick word with Mrs Goadion.
Yes, I've suffered from terrible wind all my life.
I wouldn't mind, but every time it happens, it sounds remarkably
like the first three notes of the Jinsy national anthem.
Really? Everybody in the room stands up and starts singing.
Hang on. Yes?
Mrs Goadion, have you washed my ceremonial leotard?
I think she must have done it on the wrong temperature. No, it's perfect.
What man would not be moved to tears to slip into this robe of office?
Showing off his full credentials to the island?
Hello. And welcome to Punishment Roundup for Twosday 24th.
First of all, Mr Cooshay, chalet 156.
At 4 to 6 gov clock, he did cut hedges at Druid Field
and left brambles and messy cuttings in the lane.
So that's not good.
- Punishment - suspension of dance vouchers for 23 nights
and a mild electrical.
Fire.
Call that a performance? You're washed up. You're history.
I'll make sure you never work in this industry again.
Oh, and, Tomelia, wipe your nose.
Go on, get out of here. I can't bear to look at you.
Cheer up, Sporall. It's only marriage.
Alright, you lose your freedom, your personal space, half your income...
Daily greet. Daily greet.
Oh, Arbiter Maven!
I didn't recognise you. You look so old.
Like a spider's done webs on your face.
You should try Winkleman's Prink Parlour.
Seriously, lip clips, refreckles, nosebenders, tummy tailers.
They can reduce your joofers. Oh, look at that.
See these eyelids here? You see them? Do you?
They're made from my earlobes. Seriously.
If I close my eyes like this, I can't hear a thing.
Can we just get on with the rehearsal?
See? Nothing. Shall we get on with the rehearsal?
Now this is the button you need to press. Dressing room's through here.
Has this been sanitised? Sporall, remind me to bring my wipes.
Cooee! I'm waiting. Come on, old man.
Oh, the swan of wedlock. Bring it in, bring it in.
Right, let the old man through.
Goodbye.
What an awful person. Lovely skin, though.
See you! Bye-bye.
How's he made so much money?
Bare-knuckle boxing?
Oh, God, that hurts my throat.
I'm glad you say that, because no one ever mentions that.
Even a little one hurts.
What you up after lunch?
I might go to the corrugated roof and run along it.
I really like the tippy-tippy noise my feet make. I might do that.
Not interested in a round of golf, then?
No. I've never been good at golf.
Oh, what's your handicap? I haven't got any arms, for a start.
Ah, Mr Maven. I've brought the wedding paperwork
up from the law caves for you to sign.
Stay on the mat. You're dripping!
How are things in the law caves, Trince? Pretty damp.
My new desk is directly under a stalactite.
It drips. I suppose you're looking forward to the lottery.
Probably pleased to get rid of your current wife. Show him the picture.
She's a good cook. Couldn't you get takeaways?
Get back on the mat!
Of course, one will never know
the enforced intimacies of the marital lottery.
I mean, it's a wonderful system.
It's just a great shame arbiters can't take part.
Trince, wasn't Arbiter Jenkins married? That rings a bell.
Arbiter Jenkins... Hm, I'll look into that.
Sparky! Sparky?
Sparky!
Arbiter Maven, you really do have a very full head of hair.
Unfortunately,
it's on my desk.
I just need temporary tightening, really.
Especially my cockerel shaker.
What I'm going to do is take a piece of your buttock
and I'm going to put it here.
It's not part of the procedure. It's just for a bit of fun. Oh...
I'll pop it back later.
Oh, do you want me to reduce your joofers?
Um... Yes, alright.
Course you do.
Oh!
Argh!
"Now a quick look at recent deaths
across the island in The Singing Obituaries
with Fook and the Girl."
♪ Gerry Mony choked on a green bean
♪ Mrs Feek was hit by kite
♪ And Terry Booger isn't dead but he really, really hit his head
♪ We don't think he'll last the night
Daily greet, Sporall. Daily greet, sir. I've just been -
Argh, your face!
You're like a melted wolf. Just a bit smoother.
Argh! What have you done?
Mr Maven, I've been going through -
Your face! Did you fall in a fire? Stay on the mat! You're dripping!
Sporall was right. Arbiter Jenkins WAS married.
Only very old arbiters are immune from the lottery.
But I AM old. You don't look it, sir.
So, there's no reason why you shouldn't be married.
Oh, it's The Great He, sir.
Welcome to the wedding lottery.
Are you shocked? I can't really tell.
"Now, time for Sandy's Choice, a talent competition judged by a dog."
♪ Oh, I met her on a Onesday
♪ And I had my dog with me
♪ As she sat down and chattered
♪ Well, it honed in on her knee
♪ And it went licky-licky-licky-licky-licky-licky
♪ Licky-licky-licky-licky-licky on her knee
♪ On her knee
♪ I met her on a Twosday when my dog was feeling ill
♪ I tried to make it better but I gave it the wrong pill
♪ And it was sicky-sicky-sicky-sicky-sicky-sicky
♪ Sicky-sicky on her knee
♪ Repeatedly
♪ I didn't meet her Threesday cos she said she couldn't come
♪ So I sat at home all evening and watched my doggy lick his...
♪ Bum, bum, bum, bum-bum-bum, bum, bum-bum-bum bum
♪ It went licky-licky-licky-licky-licky-licky
♪ Licky-licky-licky-licky all night long
♪ Bum-bum bum bum
♪ And it went licky-licky-licky-licky-licky-licky
♪ All night long
♪ Bum-bum bum bum
♪ Bum-bum bum... Get in your bed! Really licky.
Oh, thank you, Sandy. Oh. Thank you.
♪ Ponies and posies, ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-poop
♪ Ponies and posies... Sporall, this is terrible.
Can you imagine ME married? Yes, I can.
Stop, enough, go. You make me sick. Go.
Mr Maven! Oh! Didn't recognise you. You look fantastic.
Ow! Oh... Argh!
Who did you? Was it Tony? Yes.
Yeah. He's so good at the geriatrics. Come.
Sporall! What's he said about me?
Who? Big nose, curly hair.
Oh, you mean Maven? That's why he's put himself in the wedding lottery.
So that he can be with me.
I, er... That's why he asked me to give you these.
Really?
And then he asked me to take them back again. Oh.
And then to stroke you gently like this.
Flowers in the face? I wonder what that means.
It must be some kind of romantic code. Hmm.
That's so soft and...
OK, that's less... less romantic now.
Alright, Sporall, I get the message.
Some of us have got work to do round here, you know.
That's a cucumber.
I know. It's my lunch.
What's your name? Sporall.
Who do you want to marry?
Come on, I haven't got all day. What are you talking about?
You give me money and I put you with who you want.
Who do you want?
Oh, right. Um...
Soosan Noop.
20 yellows.
Thank you.
Yes? Actually, can I arrange one for someone else as well?
Name. Arbiter Maven.
"This is Jinsy."
Element repord for the 24th of Lull.
Warnings of severe droop in Nool parish.
Waxing at 15 and 2 and waning at lights out. Bang bang bang.
Possibility of puddle displacement and backsplash 3.
Urgh! Not good for Mrs Chinnerman's hatchday dance. Shame.
A helifront settling in for the night, despite bad moonshapes.
Bloney rough in Brownlap for the wet meadow raking contest.
Glove graph for the island shows fingerless to fleecy
with occasional handrub
and blow-through.
Blanket thickness 2 with occasional sheets rising in the vest.
Gentlemales and ladyfabs,
welcome...
to the 129th wedding lottery.
I'm Mr Slightlyman, the master of balls.
Bring on the swan of wedlock!
Do the wave, Sporall. Wave.
More smoke, Steve.
And now Arbiter Maven will read the declaration of wedlock.
Stay back. You're dripping. Sorry. Sorry.
I, Arbiter Maven,
as representative of the people of Jinsy
do promise The Great He, Jinsy Praise Him,
that we will abide
by the results of this honest, just
and completely random lottery.
Get off. Will you press the button
and release the faceballs, please?
Wipes... Wipes, Sporall, wipes.
I haven't got any wipes. Do your arm, then. Push the button.
Push it.
And our first couple tonight is...
Joon Speep.
And...
Davivid Flume.
They won't get on. He drinks like a fish.
And our second couple tonight is...
Dagrid Ugershott.
And...
Melnie Bock.
He bats for the other team. What? Sportsman?
Did they do your joofers? Shh. The left one's still a bit big.
What? Yeah.
Leilika Ush with Mr Flarr.
Lamoola Tween with Hawk Onse.
Dempney Chell-Collonton
with Bonbon Lagare.
Mr Sloot with Little Jenny.
Limpy Hudson with Jellica Legg.
Murk Pivot and Googeny Veth.
Tanya Kipp with the tramp from the pier.
And the 189th couple
who will share their marital bed for the next three cycles
is...
Arbiter Maven... Looks like a melted wolf.
With? ..with...
..Miss Jinsy.
Arbiter, Arbiter! Give me a kiss.
As our ceremony reaches the halfway point...
..I will now ask Arbiter Maven to slip into his ceremonial leotard
and make the wedding speech.
♪ Ponies and posies, ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-poop
My leotard!
What's all this money? Get her off me! Get her off!
Quick! Sporall! The swan!
Come on!
Can't this thing go any faster?
Come on, faster.
Look out!
Go on, go and get him.
Get him!
Oh... Oh!
Help me, help me!
♪ It's a nice day
♪ Except for the raining
♪ It's a lovely day-ay-ay-ay-ay
♪ Except for the raining
♪ Bop-de-be-bap-da!
♪ Pellay!
Just think, Mr Slightlyman and his friend
have been rigging the lottery all this time.
Still, the punishment booths at Rintels Point should sort them out.
It's a shame the lottery was cancelled, sir.
You and Miss Jinsy would've made a smashing couple. Don't be ridiculous
She's one of the most hideous women I've ever laid eyes on.
How am I going to get rid of her? Just tell her you're not married.
We're not married, dear.
Get ready, sir. She's quite a catch.
♪ Oh, fare diddly-well, my Jinsyo
♪ We'll see thee on the morn
♪ I strum my six-string bandlebar
♪ I blow my withered horn
Oh.
♪ Oh, I met her on a Onesday
♪ And I had my dog with me
♪ As she sat down and chattered
♪ Well, it honed in on her knee
♪ And it went licky-licky-licky-licky-licky-licky
♪ Licky-licky-licky-licky-licky on her knee
♪ On her knee
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