(# "That's Not Really Funny" by Eels)
Who'd have thought it, Harry? 49 years inside for the canal killing,
and, all of a sudden, DNA evidence proves that, all along,
you did it. As well as 38 other unsolved canal-based crimes across the country.
They knew the risks when they went near the canal.
Now you've got a sociology degree, we are legally bound to let you go.
Here are your things back. One 78 rpm Bakelite disc -
"Let's Have Another Party" by Winifred Atwell. One tin, condensed egg powder.
One suit, zoot, unfeasibly high waistband.
One week's supply of Brylcreem. One hard-core porn mag.
Cor! Phwoar!
OK. That's me lot, screw. I'll be off.
Aren't you forgetting something, Harry? It's Mr Pogo Stick!
Blimey. Me getaway vehicle.
- Next. - (Ivan) Hello, again, Mr Jennings.
Hello, Ivan. Seems after 27 years, you didn't do the Meatsafe murders, after all.
One 45 rpm record - "Puppy Song" by David Cassidy.
One poster - Doctor Who, Jon Pertwee incarnation. And your Space Hopper.
Ha. See? I told you I never done it.
Yes, yes, yes, Ivan. We've heard it all before. Now, off you go.
(# "Come" by Eddie Warner)
(# "Move It" by Cliff Richard and the Shadows)
I've seen you being held down by 23 warders. You're Harry Ferris, the Canal Killer.
I've seen you. In the library. You're Ivan Dobsky, the Meatsafe Murderer.
- I never done it. - I did.
I had to say I done it, so that they'd take me willie out the light socket.
I said I done it cos I done it.
- The canal killings was real killings. - Oh?
Not like the meatsafe murders. They was pussy.
- Do you fancy hooking up? - OK. Which way shall we go?
It's nice here. Do you like killing people at canals?
- It's a compulsion. - Why's that?
I have my reasons.
Dad, can I go and play by the canal?
Nah.
So, Ivan, do you know where we are?
Yes, Harry. At the canal.
- And do you know who I am? - Oh, aye. You are the Canal Killer.
So, do the arithmetic, son.
- What's going to happen now, Harry? - You'll see.
I don't like it here. I want to go back to Crowmarsh.
Shut it. I ain't going back to chokey.
To get me back inside, they'd have to chop me into bits with this here cleaver,
put me in a mincer, mix me with Bisto and suet
and bake me into a bleedin' great pie.
(pounding at door)
Ivan? What are you doing here?
I've brought you a present, Mr Jennings.
Coming soon to the "Daily Express",
the country's top domestic goddess, Nigella Lawson, reveals her dinner party secrets.
Nigella shows you how to make a complete meal, from home-made Sicilian breadsticks,
through mouthwatering cucumber dips,
to thick, meaty Cumberland sausages.
Just what is the mysterious secret of Nigella's success?
Find out only in the "Daily Express".
Duncan's got a funny story about football, haven't you?
- When he was young his family lived in Burnley. - Preston.
Duncan was mad keen on football - he still is, you know what they're like -
and Duncan's favourite footballer of all time was Bobby Moore.
Charlton.
Bobby Moore lived in Preston because he was the manager.
- So Duncan decided to write him a letter. - Well, I saw him in the street.
- Are you sure? I think you wrote a letter. - I saw him in the street.
You told me you wrote a letter.
Anyway, after that, Duncan saw this footballer in the street, and, being ten years old...
- Six. - Duncan, being Duncan...
- Dunce. - Yeah.
..thought, "I know. I'll impress him by showing him what a good footballer I am."
So, he had a football with him, he ran up, took a great big kick at it.
Completely missed. Tripped over, and in front of this Bobby person, broke his leg.
Sprained my ankle, Bobby Charlton sent me a signed shirt.
OK, so there he is, right, lying in hospital, when he gets a package.
So, he opens it and you will never guess what was inside.
He'd actually been sent a shirt, signed personally by Bobby Moore.
It was Bobby Charlton!
Duncan, grow up.
- Yeah. - Amazing.
- Isn't it? - Good old Bobby.
Murphy slips the left back. I didn't think Gerrard was gonna get there,
but he just nips in front of the goalie and squeezes it in, inside the far post.
Dave, I saw the doctor.
I've got diabetes.
Anyway, from the goal kick, Carragher wins the ball. Lays it off wide.
Cross comes in. Owen arrives. We nearly got a second.
I'm shitfaced. Went down to Chris's in Brighton. Stayed up till five in the morning.
Oh, yeah? Didn't do much myself. Just a couple of pints after the football, you know?
Oi. Watch it, mate.
(as a voice-over) Oi, mate. Did you spill my pint?
Cos if you did, you're going home in a fucking ambulance.
- You backed into me. - Look, I'm sorry, lads. I'm sorry.
He's had a few too many. Come on. We're going home.
That's right, mate. I've had 15 pints of Stella cos I can hold my drink,
cos I'm not a pussy like you and your boyfriend.
- Is that a threat, mate? - No, it's not a threat. It's a promise.
Guy, leave it, all right? I'm so sorry.
He's... He's just failed another audition. He normally does voice-overs.
They couldn't see that I'm a classically trained actor.
They're all bastards.
Not like you two, cos you're my best mates.
I love both of you.
I'm really sorry, lads. I'll take him home.
I can't understand a single word he's saying.
Ah, in my country, I am the minister for education.
Look, I wanted to go to the airport. This is a carwash.
(clock ticking)
Timmy!
- Hello, Dad. - Come in! Come in!
Guess what? Now, you know you've always wanted a toy robot?
Well, look what Daddy's got you!
Guess what, Dad? Dad - I mean, my other dad... I mean, Roger -
bought me one, too.
We can have robot wars.
Wow! That was brilliant.
Yes. It was... It was fun, wasn't it?
Mummy and Roger had a party. It's something called their "tenth anniversary".
Tenth? No, you mean second, surely?
No. It's cos they've been special friends for ten years.
Here's me, Mum and Roger at the party.
So, er...
So that's what Roger looks like.
Come on, darling. You've been going to those classes twice a week for eight months.
Say something in Spanish.
Erm... Dos cervezas, por favor.
Very good.
See? Looks like I didn't have a low sperm count after all!
Shooting blanks, my eye. Ha! Woo!
Well, there must be a redhead somewhere in your family.
Who gave it to him? Uncle who?
There is no room at the inn.
Well done, Timmy!
That's my son.
Dad? Dad?
Are you all right?
I, erm...
Will you excuse me a moment, please, Timmy?
(# "Deer Stop" by Goldfrapp)
Nah.
- So do you think Chelsea'll ever win away? - Course they will. They're brilliant.
Yeah. They've got Everton coming up. Fancy a game of ludo?
Ah, in my country, I am the voice of the balls.
Look, I wanted to go to the UCI cinema.
This is the city aquarium.
It's gonna be a shark thriller, but with a spiritual subtext to it.
We're aiming for that Captain Corelli feel,
although the narrative will be absolutely in the driving seat.
Think deep, swooping dives of plot,
plunging hungrily into vast vats of sumptuous symbolism -
Pulp Fiction meets Kundun.
Even so, madam, the fare is one pound. This is a peseta.
(# "In the Waiting Line" by Zero 7)
- We had the fella from the brewery round. - Oh, yeah?
Says we need to do a little spring-clean.
Says we need to maximise the potential demographic of the demographic potential.
Oh, yeah?
Mrs Keith'll be working on that all day Sunday.
- Right. - Right.
- Night, Keith. - Night, Brian.
Evening, Brian. See, we got pan-fried poussin on a bed of seaweed there.
Or you could have a velouté of pressed quail with toasted poppy seeds.
Pint of best and a packet of cheese and onion, please, Keith.
Right.
There you are, then. That'll be £1.70 for the beer
and £38.50 for the pan-fried potato discs dusted with Roquefort and shallot.
Ah, in my country, I am the most celebrated horse whisperer.
Look, I wanted to go to Pizza Express.
This is Io, the third moon of Jupiter.
Houston, we have a problem.
We've out checked the asteroid damage to the main computer, and we don't see a way back.
How long before their orbit decays?
Maybe 16 hours. They're dead, unless we can get someone up there to fix that computer.
Come on. We need an experienced astronaut and a computer whizz rolled into one.
The guy we need doesn't exist.
Unless we call David Baddiel.
He's a famous comedian. He can do anything. He's really versatile.
(phone rings)
(man) Well, I mean, I'll ask him,
but he's really busy doing a translation of Pushkin for the National Theatre.
There's a time and a place for Pushkin. Let's go!
You'll need to put this on.
- I knew that. - You're quite sure you can handle this?
Look. I resent the implication that, as a famous comedian,
I'm less qualified to perform any given task than a trained professional. Give me the lid.
- What about the rest of the suit? - There's more?
(David through radio) About two miles and closing.
I'm getting closer.
Maybe a mile to go.
Half a mile.
Just a few hundred yards now.
I'll be there in a moment.
Maybe 80 yards, at a push.
I'm closing in now.
(# "Lovely Head" by Goldfrapp)
(Tony Blair) Thank you for seeing the changes. Thank you for having the courage.
Britain, win. Party, win. People, win. Win, win, win.
(music blares from window)
(# "Lovely Head" continues)
Clive, it's Saturday evening. The conference in Leicester ended on Friday afternoon.
Where have you been for 24 hours?
Well, it was supposed to end on Friday afternoon.
Actually, the whole thing was a complete shambles. First of all, we had to fly there.
Which was a stupid idea because it turns out Bob is scared of flying.
You wouldn't think Bob would be scared of anything, but he was blubbing like a child.
We had to slip pills into his milk to knock him out.
I mean, why we didn't take the van, I have no idea.
And when he woke up, he was furious.
When we arrived at the conference centre, it was one screwup after another
because the security guard made us wait in this holding area, sort of a garage.
We thought, "We're not gonna wait for the afternoon's torture."
So, using some scrap metal that was in the garage,
we armour-plated a car, fashioned some basic home-made guns,
burst out, and captured the Scorpion and his men. The boss was delighted.
"I love it when a plan comes together," he said.
And that, darling, is what really happened.
That's actually the plot of series 3, episode 2 of The A-Team, "To Catch A Scorpion".
What were you really doing, Clive?
I lost a bet in a dockside bar and had to fellate a monkey.
(# theme from "The A-Team")
It's all repeats on terrestrial TV. The shop on Market Street's got digital.
- We could watch Film Four. - I'm not moving. My roots are here.
For Louis XVI, the end was approaching.
As order broke down across the countryside,
he retreated behind the great gates of the Bastille.
On the 14th July, the mob stormed the gates.
This was a truly Parisian uprising.
From bankers to fishwives, they came in their thousands.
And, of course, no surprise to see England manager Sven-Goran Eriksson in the crowd.
Oh, it's all football, football, football.
Welcome to day 702 of the Daisy Harris murder investigation.
The public are our eyes and ears in any murder enquiry -
not literally, I am speaking metaphysically -
especially anyone who has inexplicably failed to ring us
with a full description of the murderer for the last two years.
Please telephone the police.
And now, to appeal to a slightly different demographic,
the same appeal read by Atomic Kitten.
I'd just like to say, close your eyes, give us your hands, darling.
Are we only dreaming, or is this burning an eternal flame?
Please call.
Thank you, there, to Jenny, Natasha and, of course, the other one.
Oh, and I should, of course, point out that that was not an original appeal,
but a cover of an appeal originally made by The Bangles
during the Barbara Slater murder of 1989.
Jason Leary, Sun. I'd like to ask Jenny if there's a Mr Jenny on the horizon.
Could we keep the questions to the subject of the murder enquiry?
Yes. I'd like to ask Jenny if the anguish she's experienced over this dreadful murder
has been in any way tempered by the prospect of a Mr Jenny on the horizon.
I will allow that question.
We're just pleased to do all we can for the girl who was one of our biggest fans.
I should make it clear that Daisy was principally "into", as they say,
the work of Dr Dre and limpbizkit.
It was my idea to invite Atomic Kitten,
on account of their altogether more wholesome image.
Young. Clean-living.
Yet to be despoiled.
- Now, any other questions? - Maureen Gray, Mirror.
Are you pinning your hopes on Atomic Kitten in the hunt for Daisy's murderer?
Obviously, I'd like to thank the Kitten,
but at the same time, the essence of any investigation
is founded on good, honest, thorough police work.
Only today, for instance, my officers have consulted a number of local psychics,
who have furnished much useful information,
including the fact that Detective Constable Stevens
can expect to receive some troubling financial news in the post.
And you can continue viewing that press conference on BBC Press Conference 24.
And, once again, our headline story.
200 members of a religious sect, including many Britons,
have committed suicide in the American state of Utah. Here's Michael with the weather.
They must have been suffering from quite a severe depression.
There's an equally severe depression coming in from the Atlantic.
So, wrap up warm.
- Evening, Brian. - Keith.
OK, we got a great bill tonight. We got Tony Cross,
Paul Observational, Johnny Surreal, Kevin Eighties and Jamal Jihad.
- Pint of best, please. - Sorry, mate. I didn't quite catch that.
I didn't make sense when I had my first drink, either.
- And a packet of cheese and onion. - Is that a new jumper, sir?
Been down to Marks and Spencer's? Does your mum always choose your clothes, mate?
- There you go. - Oi, mate. You know when you have a wank?
When you're tossing yourself off, you know? When you shut your eyes really tightly,
when you've come and you open your eyes, has your mum put a cup of tea by the bed?
(feedback)
The brewery says he cheers the place up no end.
Oh, right.
(grunts)
(coughs violently)
(# "Horse Tears" by Goldfrapp)
(trance music)
Keith.
Evening, Brian. And doesn't the old place look grand?
I can offer you a pink martini, a Black Russian,
or a bottle of poppers and a fist up your arse in the gents'.
Pint of best and a packet of cheese and onion, please.
Right you are, then.
Er... to be honest with you there, I'm quite glad you didn't go for the last one.
(# "You Are Alive" by Fragma)
(loudly) The revised word processing course? First floor, second on the left. Yes?
(whispers) I've come about module 113.
Oh, the cottaging module.
Yes, 113.
Do you want module 1 - Outdoor Cottaging, module 2 - Advanced Cottaging, or module 3?
That's the combined course in cottaging and car maintenance.
No. I... I... I'm a first-time cottager.
Oh, you want module 113, then, for first-time cottagers.
Second floor, third on the right.
(Indian accent) Welcome. You're new here. Why don't you tell us about yourself?
Erm... right.
I'm Geoff. I'm a first-time cottager.
And ever since I was 12, I've had this unfulfilled urge to gobble a complete stranger.
OK, right.
Actually, I think you want First-Time Cottaging, next door.
This is Bengali Literature.
That's great. That's really great. Thanks very much.
I'll just be going next door, then.
(Hollywood-style "inspirational" music)
- Who are you? - I'm a first-time cottager.
- Where are you going? - To the park.
What are you going to do there?
- I'm going to suck off a man. - What man?
A man I've never met before.
Go, Geoff! Go!
(# theme from "The Prisoner")
Hello.
I'm Geoff. I'm a first-time cottager and proud of it.
Is anyone there? Anyone at all?
Ooh. Well, hello, big boy.
I can see you're ready for me.
Oh... Oh...
Oh, yeah. Mm. Do you like that?
Oh, God, yes.
(licking and slurping)
Mm-mm. You've got wood, haven't you?
(gasps)
(# "That's Not Really Funny" by Eels)