So how did the dog fight with Jerry go, Biffy?
There was all this shooting, yeah, with guns and that.
I was, like, freaked out. It did my head in.
That's so not what you want in your life right now.
Do you know what I mean? This is him - "Bang," yeah?
And this is me - "Bang, bang," yeah?
He's all, "Rat-a-ta-tat,"
and I'm like, "Talk to the gun cos the cockpit ain't listening."
Know what I'm saying? Yeah.
You must be stressed out, big time. Do you know what I mean?
They're totally disrespecting us and, like, really bad racists, innit?
RADIO: 'This is the BBC.'
Hey, check this.
'We now cross to Downing Street
for an address from Mr Churchill, the Prime Minister.
'We shall give them licks on the beaches.
'And, like, the landing grounds and that,
'and film it on our mobiles big time,
'you know what I mean? All the ladies say "Yeah," say, "Yeah." '
For real! Isn't it.
Go, Winnie! Go, Winnie! Go, Winnie!
And coming up later in the programme, bird flu.
Will we all die or will there be a handful of survivors forced to live in caves?
But first, let's catch up with a few of your emails.
Yes, earlier we were discussing food prices and Liz has emailed to say,
"Why is food so expensive?
"Some food items cost more than others. That can't be right, in a democracy."
Good point. Margaret from Ipswich says,
"I blame farmers, they overcharge for their produce."
Sandra says, "Have you seen the price of aubergines? It's a scandal!
"Luckily I don't like aubergines." That IS lucky, Sandra.
Clive, a farmer, says, "Margaret is wrong to blame farmers.
Basically she's talking out of her arse."
Suzanne from Godalming reckons,
"Margaret is right to blame farmers, everyone knows they're greedy."
Another one here from Clive.
He says, "Suzanne is talking out of her arse as well.
"Would she be prepared to get up at 4am
on a freezing day in November and squeeze a cow's tits?
"No, I bet she's some stuck-up bitch of a housewife."
There's one here from Simon, also of Godalming.
He says, "Clive is insulting the woman I love.
"He's a typical farmer, i.e. a lout."
Controversial stuff there.
Again, Clive says, "I'm loading my shotgun,
getting in my car and heading for Godalming,
"where I will hunt down Suzanne and Simon and kill them like dogs.
"Then I'll head for Ipswich and blow Margaret away
before turning the gun on myself."
So, there you have it, keep those emails coming in.
That's right because we love to know what you think,
don't we, Mike? We do. ..Geoff.
Went travelling after I left college. Great laugh.
Got a job in a bar in Koh Samui. Fantastic.
Then I woke up one day, looked in the mirror,
realised I was 30 and hanging out with people ten years younger.
So I came back, most of my mates had sort of moved on.
Felt like I'd missed the boat, you know?
At which point I decided to become a teacher.
Quite bright but lazy?
Need a safety net?
Be a teacher!
You all right, fella?
Can't sleep. Something on your mind?
No.
Come on, Paul, I'm your dad. What do we say? No secrets.
Dad, why haven't I got any mates? What?
Well, it's Craig Higson's birthday this weekend,
and he's invited all the boys in my class,
except me. Why doesn't anyone want to be my friend?
Well, they don't mean to hurt your feelings.
It's just, you are quite boring.
I mean, I love you, 'cause I'm your dad,
but the chances are, other people aren't really going to see the attraction.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I love all the stories about what happened at drama club
or how Mum nearly left the gas on when you went to the shops.
But let's face it,
you're never going to get work as an after-dinner speaker.
And that lack of animation, or anything interesting to say,
can have the knock-on effect that you leave very little impression on people.
I mean, if I'm brutally honest, after I've dropped you off at your mum's on a Sunday,
by Wednesday even I have trouble remembering what you look like.
Do you want a hot milky drink?
I can't remember, do you take sugar?
Yeah.
Holly? Peter?
Rog, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be playing squash.
Yes, I am. With you! Oh, yes. I forgot my kit. What are you two doing?
Holly's just giving me a massage. Yes. A massage?
Yes, that's right. I've been really very tense. Work's been manic, as you know.
Shall I get your clothes, Peter? Thanks. Right.
Yes, I came round to tell you that I was too busy for squash,
and suddenly felt my back tense up.
How awful! Yes, well, when you're in management,
Rog, the stress really can be quite overwhelming.
I often need two or three massages a day.
I really am very tense.
Sorry, Peter, I had no idea.
Well, I try to keep it covered up at work, Rog. You weren't to know.
While I've got you on your own, I need to ask your opinion about something.
I hope this isn't about Holly seeing some other man. There's nothing going on.
I told you we hadn't had sex for months.
Yeah, but that doesn't mean she's getting it somewhere else.
She's probably exhausted...
or sore.
Then how do you explain this?
A home pregnancy test? I found it in the bathroom rubbish bin.
What's it say? What's it say?
It's negative, she's not pregnant.
Thank God for that! Yes! Yes!
You must be very relieved.
Actually I'm not! She must be having an affair, or why take the test?
I can't just ignore this.
If she's playing around, I have to put a stop to this right now.
Rog, Rog, Rog, I've got something to tell you.
That pregnancy test is...
mine.
Yours?
Yes, Rog, I was thinking of having a sex change.
What?
Then when I realised I couldn't have children,
I thought, "Sod it, I'll stay being a man."
Well, I must say I'm glad.
I mean, you'd be in the ladies league at the squash club.
Which is the other reason I decided to knock the whole idea on the head.
Keep it under your hat, though, will you? Of course.
Here we are then. Is that all sorted then? Yes.
I better be off if I'm going to find another partner down the squash club.
Enjoy yourself, Rog. Yes, darling.
See you later. Don't hurry back.
Ooh, that's right, just massage me a little bit lower there, Holly.
Forgot my kit!
Hang on, this isn't going to work, Holly. You're supposed to be massaging ME!
SAT-NAV: 'Turn right immediately before the Jobcentre.
'My God, look at that lot!
'Queuing up for honest tax-payers' money.
'£40 is probably a year's wages where they're from.
'Don't tell me they're all fleeing a war!
'Saying that, I don't mind the ones
that wash the windscreens - at least they're having a go.
'At the end of the road, turn left.'
Earlier we were discussing the thorny issue of speed cameras
and we've had a lot of emails from you. That's right.
Julie from Grantham, "A speed camera said I was going too fast when I wasn't.
"What have you got to say about that, Mr Brown?"
Alistair from Dundee says, "Safe speed depends
on the driving conditions." Very true.
Sam from Basingstoke says he disagrees with the whole concept of speed cameras.
And Frank from Chepstow agrees. He says, "It's just Big Brother, isn't it?"
Sally from Lanark disagrees. She says, "Cameras save lives."
But Phil from Newport disagrees with Sally.
"Scrap the cameras," he says. And here's another.
It says, "Mike, every morning I watch you sitting there,
reading out inane pointless emails
"and I wonder what happened to that intelligent front-line journalist
who used to report from war zones.
"You always manage to read them out so cheerfully, but your eyes give you away,
"and deep down, everyone can see that you're dying inside."
Keep them coming in because we love hearing from you.
And now this.
With your hair so prettily coiffed, Miss Howard,
you resemble nothing so much as the most charming French poodle.
I'm flattered, Mr Gosling.
Which leads me to enquire whether, at a later stage this evening,
I might be permitted to attend to you
on all-fours with all the bestial vigour of one of my father's prize mastiffs.
Woof, woof! Precisely.
Now poor old Fyffe here has been in trouble with his good lady. Isn't that right?
Can't seem to get it right. He takes the rubbish out,
then gets chastised for tramping mud into the carpet.
I can't do right for doing wrong.
He makes a cup of tea then leaves the milk bottle out of the fridge.
I was accused of wilfully and maliciously turning it into cheese.
Imagine that, into cheese!
But that's not the worst of it, though, is it, Fyffe?
Would that it were, would that it were.
No, the thing that consistently lands Fyffe
in the proverbial is... well, if you'll permit us,
we've committed it to verse, which goes like this.
It's cathartic for him, or some such Greek-sounding thing.
His psychoanalyst says "better out than in,"
which, funnily enough, is what this song is all about.
# Now I have a little lady My better half, my spouse
# By nature she is placid She wouldn't scare a mouse
# But certain things annoy her
# They make her curse and mutter
# Best avoid these irritations if you know how your bread is buttered
# So...when...you're
# Seeing to the missus better watch your etiquette
# The missus is quite a stickler Likes to know what to expect
# You'll drive her half demented if you anoint her breasts with oil
# No matter how you're tempted as you come closer to the boil
# Don't reach around behind her with an out-extended thumb
# And in the heat of passion try to push it in her...
# Because that'll make your missus slap you hard across the face
# And there'll be no more seeing to the missus
# Not that month, at any rate! #
So what were you guys up to this weekend?
We were out getting some things for the garden.
We got this fantastic pot, actually, from this place up by the garage.
It was half-price. Really?
Yeah, they've got loads of them, all half-price.
I've got half-price pots from there before.
Yeah, there's a place I go to at the other end of town.
They do half-price pots. I've no idea how they do it.
I mean, where's their profit margin?
Oh, come on, guys, those pots aren't half-price.
I think they are! They've got a big sign saying "half-price pots."
Doesn't mean they're genuinely half-price, though.
I mean, do any of you actually know what the full price of a pot should be?
Well, do you?
Well, no but...
So, what are you saying, Steve?
I'm saying they're pretending the pots are half-price.
In fact, that's their full price.
So how come you know so much about half-price pots?
Does anyone want another drink?
What you were saying back there in the pub, about the half-price pots...Just forget it.
I'd had too much to drink.
TYRES SCREECH
Get in the car.
It's OK, Sarah,
it'll be all right. What's going on?
Where are you taking him?
Is it to do with the half-price pots?
I know my rights!
Get your hands off me!
Hello, Steve. It's been a long time.
Still here, Max?
I hear you've been causing something of a fuss
about half-price pots.
I have to. What you do is repellent.
What you DID, Steve. I got out.
You, Max, you're the closest thing to pure evil I've ever seen.
You let the public think they're getting half-price pots,
when you know damn well they're full price!
Still got the fire, eh, Steve?
That's why I want you back.
You must be joking!
Do you want me to...make you?
You can't break me, Max!
Take him away.
Steve? Sarah! What are you doing here?
I've been looking for you everywhere. I called your house.
I rang your mum and dad... Nothing! Thank God you're here.
Look, follow me.
Steve, what's going on?
I've no idea, but let me tell you,
there are some stunning offers in the store today.
All these pots are half-price!
What are you talking about? This goes against everything you've ever stood for!
What have they done to you?
Sorry, did you say half-price? That's right.
Are you flossing regularly?
Mm-hm. Really? Every day?
Thought so. It's important.
Ooh,
that's a bit stiff.
Just trying to loosen up a bit.
We had one of our parties last night and I'm really feeling it today.
Well, you're a man of the world. Don't think I need to be coy.
We have these regular little parties, you know, the wife and I.
I mean, I hate the term "swingers".
So suburban, you know, we're just a group of like-minded people - all professionals.
It's like a dinner party, really,
it's just we have sex with each other after the sweet.
I mean, Emma and I are very secure with one another, you know.
As with all couples, there are some things that I enjoy that she doesn't, you know?
The thing is, I've always been very keen
on a bit of oral. I know, I know, I know -
dentist, oral... Freudian or what?!
Anyway, last night, Phil and Janet came, and Janet's like me...
loves to go downstairs, so to speak.
So we didn't waste much time getting down to the old - excuse my French -
soixante-neuf.
Well, I gave as good as I got.
Definition of the job, really, isn't it?
And this morning, I woke up and...
honestly, I feel like I just swam the Channel.
Your breath's a little bit stale, have a tried a tongue scrubber?
# I wanna hold you wanna hold you tight
# Get teenage kicks right through the night... #
Yeah! Steve-o! Steve-o! Steve-o!
Best man, up you come.
# Two little boys had two little toys Both had a wooden horse
# Gaily they'd play each summer's day Warriors both, of course
# One little chap then had a mishap Broke off his horse's head
# Wept for his toy then cried with joy
# As his young playmate said
# Did you think that I'd leave you crying
# When there's room on my horse for two?
# Climb up here, Steve We'll soon by flying
# It can go just as fast with two... #
I'm wearing my wife's knickers.
THEY ALL CHAT
Can you just pop in here a minute? Do you need me? I'm handing round nibbles.
Just for a second.
What? Shut the door, shut the door!
What's the matter? Oh, the risotto's not dried out, has it? Sssh!
No, I've cut my bloody hand off.
For Christ's sake, Simon!
Don't panic, we'll think of something. I knew this would happen!
You insisted on doing something complicated.
What does it say in Nigel Slater?
"Don't sweat over the starters, and choose a main course
you can bung in the oven when the guests arrive."
I know, I know. It was that fucking butternut squash.
I know, it is tough. Do you think we can salvage any of it?
No, have we got any wild mushrooms?
What about peas? Peas are bloody life savers!
But Andy and Charlotte grow their own.
They probably won't be bloody organic enough of something.
Don't panic, we'll think of something.
What shall we do about this? I don't know.
Do you think it'll be all right in the freezer till they've gone?
Yeah. Are you two all right in there?
Yes, yes, everything's fine. Fine!
Dad picked this up when he went over to Spain. He visited the vineyard.
THEY CHAT
Is Simon all right? He's fine, he just works too hard.
I've tried to tell him, but you know what he's like!
See you soon. Lovely to see you, bye!
Simon?
Hey look, it's a text from Andy.
It's says,
"Awesome risotto!"
Well done!
'In ten metres, keep straight on.
'It would have been quicker turning right there,
but you don't want gypsies seeing your kids in a car like this.
We've all heard the stories, and there must be some truth in them.
'They call themselves "travellers",
'but some of those caravans haven't even got wheels.
'At the next roundabout, take the third exit.'
So there we have it. Rain, rain and more rain.
Good for the garden, not so much fun for the rest of us. Mike?
Actually, Geoff, we've had an email from Jean in Windsor about you.
She says, "Whenever Geoff presents the weather, it's always atrocious.
"The man is obviously a jinx."
Sorry about that! Oh! Here's another one from Ralph in Malvern.
It's says, "It's true about Geoff. He's been presenting the weather all month
"and the sun hasn't appeared once.
"Clearly the gods are angry.
"I think we should sacrifice him."
Seems a little on the harsh side.
Steve from Gwent says, "I think using Geoff as a human sacrifice is a great idea!
"We must spill his blood now or the harvest will fail."
Interesting perspective there.
And Wendy from Ruislip says,
"Burn him, burn him on a pyre.
Only his screams will appease the all-powerful divinities."
Gosh. Gosh indeed, Geoff!
There's one here from someone who calls himself Zardox The Heretic Slayer.
He says, "I will dispatch him with my knife of sacred obsidian
and my masters shall be pleased."
Geoff, my old mate, what do you make of all that lot?
Well, luckily sacrificing weather men hasn't yet become official BBC policy.
No, that's right, least not till there's been a phone vote.
So, please call us and let us know your opinion.
Yes, should Geoff be sacrificed?
For yes, dial -
For no, dial -
And remember, you pay the licence fee. It's your BBC, you decide.
Not too fatigued by this evening's exertions, Miss Cardieu?
Why, no, I could go on for hours.
Then might I suggest you that join me later for some modest theatricals?
Gladly! And which roles will we be playing?
I would play the part of a wealthy industrialist, whilst you, Miss Cardieu,
would play a Whitechapel strumpet of such eye-wateringly low virtue
that you would leave me as dry as a ship's biscuit.
Now, Bob, your birthday. You know you can get vouchers for these experience breaks?
Oh, yeah, Martin went on one, to Brands Hatch, driving a Formula One car.
Yeah, well, I was thinking of getting you one for your birthday.
Really? Thanks! What is it?
It's a complete package.
You fly down to London from Manchester airport, first-class.
Stay at the Hilton, all-inclusive,
and then you get a limousine ride up to King's Cross,
have full sex with a prostitute,
continental breakfast the next morning and fly back home.
I know what you're thinking -
carbon emissions, but it's only two flights.
No, it's just, you really don't mind me visiting a prostitute?
Don't be silly! Anyway it's not visiting a prostitute, is it?
It's a Sleeping With A Whore Experience break.
She sounds lovely, actually.
There's a four-star rating here from the Observer. It says,
"My friend had the oral sex while I opted to be tugged off.
"Both were excellent."
This is fantastically nice of you, Jess.
Oh, no problem at all, darling. Happy birthday!
This is a dream, isn't it? Of course it is, you idiot!
It's just you and me for the next 30 years.