Caller (Mary): I think we’ll be giant super-beings, really.
Alan: We’re talking about what people will look like in a billion years time. Carry on, Mary.
Woman: I don’t think we’ll have hair, you see. I think we’ll be completely hairless.
Alan: Are you hairy, Mary?
Mary: No.
Alan: What?
Mary: No!
Alan: Right.
Mary: And I think at the end of the day, what will happen is, we’ll be more or less the same, but with bigger hands and eyes and sex organs.
Alan: I wonder what that will look like.
Mary: Look in the back of a spoon, in the bathroom.
Alan: Goodbye, Mary. Traffic!
(Horn Honks) Get out of the way you <bleep> idiot! You could get a bus through there you <bleep>! You stupid <bleep> <bleep>, let me through! (Horns Honk)
Alan: We’ve got a traffic report; I’m just going to get rid of that, it’s annoying. On the A146, just past Loddon, a lorry filled with livestock has jackknifed shedding its load over both lanes. Wonder what that looks like. Probably looks like something from “Saving Private Ryan”, but with animals.
Alan: Now listeners, I have someone on the line who fears he may be a gay. He’s married, so he wishes to remain anonymous. I shall only be using his Christian name. I’m talking to Domingo in Little Oakley. No? He’s gone. That’s a pity. Marvellous little tapas bar there. Well, we’re just coming up to two minutes to one so we might as well go to Dave Clifton.
Dave: Yeah, hello, Alan. How you doing? Alright?
Alan: Yeah. What’s that you’re reading?
Dave: Actually, it’s incredible. This is the biography of an East End gangster; it’s called “Bad Slags”. It’s amazing stuff. It’s incredible.
Alan: I think there’s another word for it, really. I think it’s saaa-aad that people find it entertaining to read about men who call themselves things like Stan the Stabber, who chop peoples heads off, in half. Set fire to their eyebrows and knock peoples teeth out with a toffee hammer just because they couldn’t repay a loan at a very uncompetitive rate of interest.
Dave: Is your book in trouble with Stan the Stabber then, Alan?
Alan: What do you mean?
Dave: Well, no, it’s just that from what I hear all the unsold copies are being bundled into the back of a truck and driven to big warehouse, where they’re going to be quite literally, pulped.
Alan: There’s only one word for people like you, Dave.
Dave: Yeah?
Alan: I’ll tell you tomorrow.
Dave: OK Here’s…
Alan: Friggers! That’s it! Friggers!
Dave: …Salt n Pepa.
Sonja: OK!
Alan: Actually, let’s bring the love-making forward. Come here. <Alan take a swig of Listerine mouth wash> Come here, you lucky, lucky lady. Oh, Lynn!
Lynn: Hello.
Alan: Hi. Just having some hygienic snogging.
Lynn: Right, I’ve nearly moved everything into the house. Oh, that’s for you <hands Alan a piece of paper>
Alan: What’s this?
Lynn: Oh it’s just an invitation to my baptism.
Alan: Baptism? Lynn, how will they get you up to the font? They’d need four men to lift you.
Lynn: No, no. It’s not a font, it’s a special pool that they lower you into.
Alan: Right. And if you sink, you’re a Baptist. And if you float, you’re evil? It’s touch and go.
Lynn: Alan, I just want you to stand by me with a towel to help me dry myself off.
Alan: Lynn, five minutes ago you were my PA and now you’re inviting me to some sort of religious wet T-shirt competition.
Lynn: Right. I’ve got you that “Bad Slags” book you asked for. And also, do you still want to do the radio show since all your books are being incinerated?
Alan: Yes, I do want to do the radio show, Lynn. And, the books aren’t being incinerated, they’re being pulped. My book could very well end up being reconstituted as a trestle table in a home for battered women. I’m putting something back.
Lynn: Still annoyed about that “Bad Slags” book?
Alan: I am. I don’t know why people buy this rubbish. About these East End thugs who lend you £100, and a week later you owe them a million. I’m not exaggerating. You buy a car off them and find out it’s two front ends welded together. You send off for an MOT and you get a note back saying they found some chap’s ribs in the oil sump. Or you take the lid off the gear knob and find a testis.
Lynn: Alan, the builders are waiting to sign off.
Alan: OK. I’m going to miss this caravan. I used to enjoy sitting here like this. Sometimes like this <changes position>. Sometimes I’d lean forward and watch the TV.
Lynn: Well…
Alan: Hang on, there’s a fourth position. Sometimes I used to like sitting here, like this… <shifts position again> … waiting for Sonja. Yeah, we had some good times on that banquette. <Alan’s mind drifts off>
Lynn: Alan? The Builders.
Alan: Yes.
Builder: Do you think it’s a bit tight in here?
Alan: Not really. People always go on about space, don’t they?, Oooh, it’s nice to have a bit of space. People forget, you can get lost in space. Could have done with a skylight, really. Oh well. I presume we’re all going to keep in touch, you know, now that the work’s finished? I’ve got you all a present, for your hard work. <Hand’s out copies of his book> I wont tell you what it is, it’s a surprise. <Lynn walks in> Lynn, what the frig have you got on your feet?
Lynn: Show covers.
Alan: You look like you live on a ward.
Lynn: I just got fed up getting my feet dirty.
Builder: They look like a pair of Action Man body bags!
Alan: Yeah, and it’s fine to join in.
John: They’re like baby bags for you feet. You know, if they want to sleep, or something.
Alan: Yeah, that’s sort of a development of what he said, isn’t it? But, you know, again, fine to join in. Carl, do you want to add anything about Lynn’s shoe covers? Perhaps say that they’re like a marquee for toes, or a foot tent, something like that?
Carl: No.
Lynn: Right, I’ve got some stuff for your bedroom. Have you decided which room it’s going to be?
Alan: Yes. Now. The bedroom. Down the corridor, last door on the left.
John: That’s the box room, Al. I mean that’s the same size as your bedroom in the caravan.
Alan: Is it?
Lynn: Yeah.
Alan: Fine. You know. Squeeze a double bed in there, and I can open the door and just step up onto the bed.
Lynn: Where are your clothes going to go?
Alan: In the storage room. Just a short, naked jog across the landing.
Lynn: What happens when you’ve got guests?
Alan: Lynn, I’ll cup myself. I don’t mean with an actual cup.
Carl: More like an egg cup!
Alan: It wouldn’t be an egg cup. It’d be two egg cups and a kidney dish.
Alan: Err, no, I hate them. It’s a very laid-back petrol station, this. You could have a couple of sofas in here, couldn’t you. People would come in, relax. You know, you’ve got your petrol, it’s fine.
Michael: This week’s guest petrol is, Texaco. And err, next week’s guest petrol will be… Texaco again.
Alan: Yeah. And you’ve got a great forecourt, you could have a lovely barbecue out there.
Michael: Oh, no. you’re not allowed naked flames on the forecourt.
Alan: It’s political correctness gone mad. You know, I tell you what amuses me, Michael. Really amuses me, when people criticize my book just because I happened to use the phrase “Needless to say, I had the last laugh” 14 times. Because, you know. You and I know, in my life to do date I have actually had the last laugh…
Michael: 25 times.
Alan: 25 times, exactly. (Microwave bell dings) My toad-in-the-hole.
Michael: There she blows. Ohh, lovely, man. Look at that, I bet you never thought that you could make toast in a microwave.
Alan: That’s not toast, Michael. That’s hot, floppy bread.
Michael: So what did you do last night?
Alan: Just stayed in an wached a documentary about quicksand. Then Sonja and I took our tops off and had a cuddle, followed by mince and onions. Doesn’t get much better than that.
Micheal: It did for me. I done a bit better than a cuddle last night. I had full sex with a woman.
Alan: Go on, go on.
Michael: She was all over us, man. I mean, she’s a bit older than me, like. She’s 60.
Alan: 60?
Michael: Aye, what’s wrong with that? Same age difference as you and Sonja.
Alan: Yeah, that’s just wrong. You shouldn’t do it the other way round.
Michael: We did!
Alan: 60’s not really old, is it? I mean look at Bob Dylan.
Michael: Aye. She looked a bit like him.
Alan: What, with a big nose and lots of mad hair?
Michael: Aye, do you know her?
Alan: No. How did you meet her?
Michael: Ootside Threshers. She was loading all this booze into her car. And she says “Ooh, I’ve had a bit to drink”, like. “Would you drive us home… to Cardiff”
Alan: Cardiff?
Michael: Aye. I come back this morning on a National Express coach. It was sort of like an SAS operation, you know. Your mission: Gan ‘til Cardiff, have full sex with a woman, come back on the coach. Sort of like Operation Bravo-Two-Zero.
Alan: I think in your case, Michael. It was Bravo-Six-Zero. By Randy McNab!
Michael: Hey, Randy McNob!
Alan: Stop that now.
Michael: So, how’s you and Sonja getting on.
Alan: Never really thought about it. She’ll be along soon, with a hot desert.
Michael: I tell ya, the way she looks after you, man. You’re looking a gift horse in the mouth.
Alan: No. I think that’s what you were doing last night, Michael.
Michael: So, when’s Lynn getting baptised, then?
Alan: Splashdown for Lynn is 1500 hours on Sunday.
Michael: Ahh, right. And is, lover-boy gonna be there? The ex-policeman?
Alan: Gordon? I hope he’s not doing the dunking. I wouldn’t like to be dunked by a retired policeman. Because when you came up he’d probably go “Where’s the money?” I’d say “I don’t know, I’m just being baptised” “Down you go again”.
Michael: Aye, aye. Here comes Sonja.
Alan: Ah, the dinner lady.
Sonja: This is rhubarb crumble and custard.
Alan: Smashing.
Sonja: Alan, I am a homeless person. I went to my flat, and landlady is telling me that all the girls will have to go because she must sell this house because it will be office block. I have to find somewhere.
Alan: Look. If the worst comes to the worst, you can always move in to Lynn’s mum’s bedroom.
Sonja: I don’t want to sleep in Lynn’s dead mum’s bed.
Alan: Well, Michael did something similar last night and he’s very happy. Come on. Let’s see one of these. <adjusts Sonja’s face into a smile> Actually, that’s just weird.
Alan (interrupting): Good title.
Tessa: … it takes you through childhood to your drug addiction and prostitution…
Alan (interrupting): Oh god.
Tessa: …and then to your recover, in a very upbeat sort of a way…
Alan (interrupting): Mine’s upbeat too.
Tessa: I should say at this point that other voice that you can hear is my other guest, Alan Partridge. Now, Alan for a while, had a TV chat show and was quite a big name up there, and then it all went very wrong. And that’s the subject of your book, “Bouncing Back”.
Alan: Yes. I noticed that although Kate in effect felt she bounced back, I feel I have… had and are… bounced… bouncing. I felt that… Do you want to carry on talking to Kate while I just erm, sort something out. Can I borrow a pen?
Tessa: Yes. How’s the book doing?
Kate: It’s doing wonderfully well. The best feedback for me is actually people just coming up to me…
Alan (interrupting): Yeah, I’m all right now. You know.
Kate: Erm. People who felt very alone, but through me they’ve found a friend…
Alan (interrupting): All done.
Tessa: It’s been very well received.
Alan: Sorry.. sorry.
Kate: Can I just say, it’s actually quite distracting when you interrupt.
Alan: You just interrupted her!
Tessa: Erm. Alan. “Bouncing Back”. I suspect you meant it as an ironic title, didn’t you? Because, you haven’t bounced back, have you? Certainly not emotionally, and I think in a sense, not in a career way either. How do you feel about that?
Alan: What?
Kate: I think what Tessa’s saying is that you haven’t bounced back. I mean, I haven’t read your book, I’ve just skimmed it…
Alan (interrupting): I have. I’m doing “Norfolk Nights” and I’ve got a show called… Why are you shaking your head? Are you trying to put me off? Two can play at that game! <Lifts two fingers to Kate> I know you’ve problems, in the past… <mimics injecting into his arm> …The time’s just coming upto 11:30… Sorry, it’s your show.
Tessa: So, err, yes. Bouncing back. You fell quite spectacularly…
Alan (interrupting): Yeah, all right. Do you slow down for car crashes?
Tessa: I suppose, the point I’m trying to make really is that I’ve been looking for the positives in your book, and it is a book that is full of joy. But it’s chiefly joy at other people’s misfortunes.
Kate: I noticed a lot of bitterness. Actually I noticed you end almost every anecdote with the phrase “Needless to say, I had the last laugh.”
Alan: Yeah. Well you could end some of your chapters with “Needles to say… I took drugs”
Tessa: If I can turn to you, Kate.
Alan: Yeah, sure.
Tessa: You come from quite a privileged background.
Kate: Err, Meterially privileged yes, but emotionally undernourished. My father was very distant…
Alan (interrupting): Is that because he lived in a different wing of your house?
Kate: Have you read my book?
Alan: No, but I’ve seen the photographs in the central spine. And I read the bit where you say you put drugs up your bottom. Why? You’ve got a perfectly good mouth.
Kate: Very easy to confuse the two. Sometimes people can actually end up talking out of their arse, Alan.
Tessa: Let’s talk a little bit more about your drug addiction. Now, you were hooked on variety of drugs, weren’t you?
Kate: Yeah. I started on crack.
Alan: Now, that’s not the same as crackling, is it?
Kate: No.
Alan: It’s a joke. I love crackling. I had some last Sunday. It had hairs on it, but I didn’t mind.
Tessa: And then the chemical dependency grew worse?
Kate: Yeah. My drug of choice became ketamine, which is in fact a horse tranquilliser.
Alan: Shi t! Sorry. Did you get that by hanging round stables? You know, you do seem quite posh. I can imagine you in willies and one of those sleeveless anoraks.
Kate: The technical name for that is actually a gilet.
Alan: No, that’s a razor. Could have done with that for the crackling. Have you ever shaved your crackling?
Tessa: Erm. Yes. Ketamine.
Alan: Why give drugs to a horse? Why drag them into it?
Kate: They use ketamine to tranquillise the horse and then to extract the horse’s semen.
Alan: How do they do that?
Kate: I don’t know, the same way that you would a human being.
Alan: What, send him into a cubicle with magazines? They’ve got hooves for goodness’ sake. Four of them. It’d take some doing, but I cant see it.
Tessa: I think we’ve strayed somewhat from the topic. I think it’s interesting you both obviously have addictive personalities. Clearly in your case it was drugs. In your case, Alan, it was chocolate.
Alan: Yes. Specifically Toblerone. I would wake up in the middle of the night and eat an entire Toblerone. And I don’t mean a small one. I mean a medium-sized one. In fact, in the best chapter in my book I talk about when I gorged on Toblerone and drove to Dundeed in my bare feet.
Kate: I have to say. Chocolate addiction is never going to be as destructive as drug addiction.
Alan: What’s her book like?
Kate: Excuse me, I really don’t like being referred to as “her”.
Alan: All right, what’s “his” book like? I don’t know your name. Tara Peter Frampton double-barrel-shotgun Kensington on the horse.
Kate: You really have got a lot of issues.
Alan: Yeah, of “What Car?” magazine.
Tessa: That’s something of a first on “Prayer Wave”. Never had anybody walk out before.
Alan: Yes, I think the atmosphere has turned rather sour.
Tessa: Yes. Let’s see if we can smooth things over with a little bit more from Monteverdi’s “Vespers”.
Alan: Good band.
Tessa: Well, thank you very much for coming on the show, Alan. Slightly more exciting than I’d anticipated.
Alan: Yes. Oh, sorry, can I introduce you, this is my PA, Lynn.
Tessa: Hello.
Alan: You must be a guest on my show sometime. We discuss issues. Europe, conspiracy theories, what happens if you just eat crisps. Things like that.
Tessa: That sounds interesting actually. We’re currently revamping this show. I’m actually looking for a co-presenter at the moment, so be quite interesting to talk to you about some of those ideas. You know I’m the producer of the show as well as the presenter.
Alan: Oh! No! That’s interesting isn’t it. I didn’t know who you are, and yet I still got in with you. Oh, I forgot to say. I am soooo a Christian.
Tessa: It’s not a pre-requisite for being on the programme.
Alan: Come on.
Tessa: No, really. It’s more to to with our family remit.
Alan: Well, I love families, you know. I used to have one, but it left me. This one’s a Baptist. Lynn’s being submerged this week, for her sins. Literally. You’re welcome to come along.
Tessa: Oh, how wonderful. Have you been preparing for it for a long time?
Lynn: Oh, yes. Yes.
Alan [Drifts off into one of his daydreams of him in his car munching on Toblerones}: Lynn! Lynn! Lynn! [Snaps out of it] Shall we make tracks?
Alan: Sonja, it’s not being destroyed. The correct term is pulped. They’re pulping the remaining unsold 14,000 copies of my book next Thursday. So they can make room for books on Cockney killers.
Sonja: What is Cockey?
Alan: Cockney, Sonja, is an area in London where criminals live. The police don’t arrest them because, and they’re very strict about this, because they only slaughter their own. And they have funerals with horses and floral tributes that say things like “Mum” and “Stab”.
Sonja: They don’t sound so evil, these men like flowers.
Alan: Sonja, these guys, some of the stunts they pull… They’ll chain you to a car that’s been clamped. So the only way you can get yourself free is by phoning the council. But you can’t do that because they’ve shoved your mobile phone up your backside.
Sonja: Mobile phone not hurt too much. Is only small.
Alan: No, Sonja. This was in the late ‘80’s. Mobile phones were like big black plastic bricks with a rubber breadstick sticking out of the top. It’s agony.
Sonja: Maybe if was vibrating phone, it quite pleasant!
Alan: Sonja, this is no laughing matter. You know, if you are at a fun fair, these guys might put your head in a candyfloss machine. And they might be standing round having a great laugh at you with your big pink hair. But you may be very very dizzy. Now, Sonja, I’ve been thinking about your impending homelessness and I’ve come to a decision. I want you to move in.
Sonja: Really?
Alan: I want you to mke the place your own.
Sonja: I can’t believe!
Alan: I’ve bought you the caravan.
Sonja: I don’t live in the house with you?
Alan: Have you seen the size of the box room? I want you here in the caravan. You’d be my very own John West tinned woman. Skipjack Sonja in brine.
Sonja: And I can come visit whenever I want?
Alan: Probably best if I come and see you, actually. Yeah. We’ll set up a signaling system. If you see a bottle of ketchup in the kitchen window, it means “Let’s make love”. “I’m feeling saucy”.
Sonja: You want me to pay rent?
Alan: I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.
Sonja: You’re sure you don’t want me to pay rent?
Alan: No, it’s fine, as I said, I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.
Alan: she didn’t like being in that water did she? See her thrashing around?
Michael: I’ve got it all on here, it’s hilarious, man.
Tessa: That was lovely.
Alan: Yes. It was like a very moving sheep dip. Anyway, I’m down to do a spot now. And I’m going to be saying a lot of interesting things about God. So if you hang around.
Tessa: Oh, Unfortunately I’ve really got to go, Alan.
Alan: I’ll do it now, I’ll do it now.
Alan <Alan begins his speech>: Hello. You probably don’t know me. I’m Alan Partridge. I host “Norfolk Nights” on Radio Norwich, and “Skirmish”, a military-based general knowledge quiz on cable television channel called UK Conquest. But today is Lynn’s day, and what a tragedy that the one person who can’t be here is Lynn’s mum, Peggy, who is dead. We didn’t see eye to eye. There was a lot of bad blood… which coincidentally was one of the complications she had at the end. But erm, I’m digressing. Today is Lynn’s day and she has bounced back in the same way that I have. Because God is a very positive God. Even when he tried to create the world in six days, there were people who said “You can’t do it, it can’t be done”. Although he hadn’t created people then. But the criticism bounced off him like water off… Not off a duck’s back, because he hadn’t invented ducks either. But erm, anyway…Where was I or is I? Is… was… iswas. “Tiswas”. Who remembers “Tiswas”? The 70’s! Spacehoppers and err… sweets they don’t make any more. Er, err, err “Kojak”! Who loves ya, baby? A lollipop. Sorry, it’s not going very well. Oh, I’m gonna kill myself. Where’s my shotgun? Click, click, click. Can’t get my toe on the trigger. Oh, got it. That’s it. And to Lynn.
Alan: Sorry about that. I won’t do they shot gun thing on the radio. That’s just for the Baptists.
Tessa: Anyway, I’ve really got to go.
Alan: Yeah, go, go, go, go, go.
Baptist Guest: Hello, Alan. Can I just say I love your radio show.
Alan: Oh, thank you very much.
Baptist Guest: And I’ve read your book.
Alan: Oh?
Baptist Guest: Have to say, didn’t really work for me.
Alan: F’ck off.
Sonja: First, Alan was very shy before we make love. He was very shy of his body. But I just tell to him ”Please, it doesn’t mind. It’s what’s inside what matter” And also, Alan is pretty well hung, so… Now when we make love, he is like a big god bear.
Alan to Baptist Guest: Oh, erm. I’m sorry about that before. I think you just caught me at a bad moment.
Baptist Guest: Perfectly understandable. So. I hear your book’s being pulped.
Alan: F’ck off!
(Alan’s phone rings)
Alan: Hello? Er, yes, he is. Did he give you my number? Michael, it’s a Nerys for you.
Michael: Hello. Oh, hiya! Oh, Nerys, aye! So I know your name now. No, I can still smell you. ‘Cause I haven’t had a shower or owt.
Alan [daydreaming again about when he had his breakdown]: Lynn! Lynn! Hello, Lynn? I’ve been eating a lot of Toblerone. I’ve eaten four and I’ve got two white ones left. I don’t like them as much as the dark ones. I’m not very happy.
Alan: Hello, again. I’m sorry, about that. It’s just, you know when you have a book out and you get a lot of criticism. It’s very difficult to…
Baptist Guest: Not a problem.
Alan: Unfortunately, people would rather read books about people called Dan the Daggerman from Dagenham.
Baptist Guest: Funny world.
Alan: Tortures you by putting your hair in a fax machine and pressing “Send”. What do you think was actually wrong with my book? Don’t pull any punches.
Baptist Guest: To be honest. I don’t think anecdotes are your forte.
Alan: That’s fair enough. So you don’t think I can tell anecdotes? Can you just pop that down for a second. Right! I’ll tell you an anecdote! In 1975, I was catching the London train from Crewe station. It was very crowded, I found myself in a last minute rush for the one remaining seat with a tall good-looking man with collar-length hair. It was the 70’s. Buckaroo. When I sat down on the chair, I looked up and realized it was none other than Peter Purves. It was at the height of his “Blue Peter” fame! He said, “You jammy bastard” and I quick as a flash I replied “Don’t be blue, Peter”. Needless to say, I had the last laugh. Now f’ck off!
Alan: We’re talking about what people will look like in a billion years time. Carry on, Mary.
Woman: I don’t think we’ll have hair, you see. I think we’ll be completely hairless.
Alan: Are you hairy, Mary?
Mary: No.
Alan: What?
Mary: No!
Alan: Right.
Mary: And I think at the end of the day, what will happen is, we’ll be more or less the same, but with bigger hands and eyes and sex organs.
Alan: I wonder what that will look like.
Mary: Look in the back of a spoon, in the bathroom.
Alan: Goodbye, Mary. Traffic!
(Horn Honks) Get out of the way you <bleep> idiot! You could get a bus through there you <bleep>! You stupid <bleep> <bleep>, let me through! (Horns Honk)
Alan: We’ve got a traffic report; I’m just going to get rid of that, it’s annoying. On the A146, just past Loddon, a lorry filled with livestock has jackknifed shedding its load over both lanes. Wonder what that looks like. Probably looks like something from “Saving Private Ryan”, but with animals.
Alan: Now listeners, I have someone on the line who fears he may be a gay. He’s married, so he wishes to remain anonymous. I shall only be using his Christian name. I’m talking to Domingo in Little Oakley. No? He’s gone. That’s a pity. Marvellous little tapas bar there. Well, we’re just coming up to two minutes to one so we might as well go to Dave Clifton.
Dave: Yeah, hello, Alan. How you doing? Alright?
Alan: Yeah. What’s that you’re reading?
Dave: Actually, it’s incredible. This is the biography of an East End gangster; it’s called “Bad Slags”. It’s amazing stuff. It’s incredible.
Alan: I think there’s another word for it, really. I think it’s saaa-aad that people find it entertaining to read about men who call themselves things like Stan the Stabber, who chop peoples heads off, in half. Set fire to their eyebrows and knock peoples teeth out with a toffee hammer just because they couldn’t repay a loan at a very uncompetitive rate of interest.
Dave: Is your book in trouble with Stan the Stabber then, Alan?
Alan: What do you mean?
Dave: Well, no, it’s just that from what I hear all the unsold copies are being bundled into the back of a truck and driven to big warehouse, where they’re going to be quite literally, pulped.
Alan: There’s only one word for people like you, Dave.
Dave: Yeah?
Alan: I’ll tell you tomorrow.
Dave: OK Here’s…
Alan: Friggers! That’s it! Friggers!
Dave: …Salt n Pepa.
Alan is in the static home with Sonja:
Alan: Hit me! Hit me Hit me with your rhythm stick. It’s nice to be a lunatic. Hit me. Hit me. Hit me. Only a few more nights in the caravan, Sonja. I thought we’d celebrate tonight by watching “Spartacus” with corned beef hash. Then afterwards we’ll make sweet love. Then I’ll drive you home.Sonja: OK!
Alan: Actually, let’s bring the love-making forward. Come here. <Alan take a swig of Listerine mouth wash> Come here, you lucky, lucky lady. Oh, Lynn!
Lynn: Hello.
Alan: Hi. Just having some hygienic snogging.
Lynn: Right, I’ve nearly moved everything into the house. Oh, that’s for you <hands Alan a piece of paper>
Alan: What’s this?
Lynn: Oh it’s just an invitation to my baptism.
Alan: Baptism? Lynn, how will they get you up to the font? They’d need four men to lift you.
Lynn: No, no. It’s not a font, it’s a special pool that they lower you into.
Alan: Right. And if you sink, you’re a Baptist. And if you float, you’re evil? It’s touch and go.
Lynn: Alan, I just want you to stand by me with a towel to help me dry myself off.
Alan: Lynn, five minutes ago you were my PA and now you’re inviting me to some sort of religious wet T-shirt competition.
Lynn: Right. I’ve got you that “Bad Slags” book you asked for. And also, do you still want to do the radio show since all your books are being incinerated?
Alan: Yes, I do want to do the radio show, Lynn. And, the books aren’t being incinerated, they’re being pulped. My book could very well end up being reconstituted as a trestle table in a home for battered women. I’m putting something back.
Lynn: Still annoyed about that “Bad Slags” book?
Alan: I am. I don’t know why people buy this rubbish. About these East End thugs who lend you £100, and a week later you owe them a million. I’m not exaggerating. You buy a car off them and find out it’s two front ends welded together. You send off for an MOT and you get a note back saying they found some chap’s ribs in the oil sump. Or you take the lid off the gear knob and find a testis.
Lynn: Alan, the builders are waiting to sign off.
Alan: OK. I’m going to miss this caravan. I used to enjoy sitting here like this. Sometimes like this <changes position>. Sometimes I’d lean forward and watch the TV.
Lynn: Well…
Alan: Hang on, there’s a fourth position. Sometimes I used to like sitting here, like this… <shifts position again> … waiting for Sonja. Yeah, we had some good times on that banquette. <Alan’s mind drifts off>
Lynn: Alan? The Builders.
Alan: Yes.
Alan goes to speak to the builders in his new house:
Alan: Ahh, you’ve already made yourself comfortable on the banquette. Great.Builder: Do you think it’s a bit tight in here?
Alan: Not really. People always go on about space, don’t they?, Oooh, it’s nice to have a bit of space. People forget, you can get lost in space. Could have done with a skylight, really. Oh well. I presume we’re all going to keep in touch, you know, now that the work’s finished? I’ve got you all a present, for your hard work. <Hand’s out copies of his book> I wont tell you what it is, it’s a surprise. <Lynn walks in> Lynn, what the frig have you got on your feet?
Lynn: Show covers.
Alan: You look like you live on a ward.
Lynn: I just got fed up getting my feet dirty.
Builder: They look like a pair of Action Man body bags!
Alan: Yeah, and it’s fine to join in.
John: They’re like baby bags for you feet. You know, if they want to sleep, or something.
Alan: Yeah, that’s sort of a development of what he said, isn’t it? But, you know, again, fine to join in. Carl, do you want to add anything about Lynn’s shoe covers? Perhaps say that they’re like a marquee for toes, or a foot tent, something like that?
Carl: No.
Lynn: Right, I’ve got some stuff for your bedroom. Have you decided which room it’s going to be?
Alan: Yes. Now. The bedroom. Down the corridor, last door on the left.
John: That’s the box room, Al. I mean that’s the same size as your bedroom in the caravan.
Alan: Is it?
Lynn: Yeah.
Alan: Fine. You know. Squeeze a double bed in there, and I can open the door and just step up onto the bed.
Lynn: Where are your clothes going to go?
Alan: In the storage room. Just a short, naked jog across the landing.
Lynn: What happens when you’ve got guests?
Alan: Lynn, I’ll cup myself. I don’t mean with an actual cup.
Carl: More like an egg cup!
Alan: It wouldn’t be an egg cup. It’d be two egg cups and a kidney dish.
Alan visits Michael in the BP garage:
Michael: Do you want a pickled onion?Alan: Err, no, I hate them. It’s a very laid-back petrol station, this. You could have a couple of sofas in here, couldn’t you. People would come in, relax. You know, you’ve got your petrol, it’s fine.
Michael: This week’s guest petrol is, Texaco. And err, next week’s guest petrol will be… Texaco again.
Alan: Yeah. And you’ve got a great forecourt, you could have a lovely barbecue out there.
Michael: Oh, no. you’re not allowed naked flames on the forecourt.
Alan: It’s political correctness gone mad. You know, I tell you what amuses me, Michael. Really amuses me, when people criticize my book just because I happened to use the phrase “Needless to say, I had the last laugh” 14 times. Because, you know. You and I know, in my life to do date I have actually had the last laugh…
Michael: 25 times.
Alan: 25 times, exactly. (Microwave bell dings) My toad-in-the-hole.
Michael: There she blows. Ohh, lovely, man. Look at that, I bet you never thought that you could make toast in a microwave.
Alan: That’s not toast, Michael. That’s hot, floppy bread.
Michael: So what did you do last night?
Alan: Just stayed in an wached a documentary about quicksand. Then Sonja and I took our tops off and had a cuddle, followed by mince and onions. Doesn’t get much better than that.
Micheal: It did for me. I done a bit better than a cuddle last night. I had full sex with a woman.
Alan: Go on, go on.
Michael: She was all over us, man. I mean, she’s a bit older than me, like. She’s 60.
Alan: 60?
Michael: Aye, what’s wrong with that? Same age difference as you and Sonja.
Alan: Yeah, that’s just wrong. You shouldn’t do it the other way round.
Michael: We did!
Alan: 60’s not really old, is it? I mean look at Bob Dylan.
Michael: Aye. She looked a bit like him.
Alan: What, with a big nose and lots of mad hair?
Michael: Aye, do you know her?
Alan: No. How did you meet her?
Michael: Ootside Threshers. She was loading all this booze into her car. And she says “Ooh, I’ve had a bit to drink”, like. “Would you drive us home… to Cardiff”
Alan: Cardiff?
Michael: Aye. I come back this morning on a National Express coach. It was sort of like an SAS operation, you know. Your mission: Gan ‘til Cardiff, have full sex with a woman, come back on the coach. Sort of like Operation Bravo-Two-Zero.
Alan: I think in your case, Michael. It was Bravo-Six-Zero. By Randy McNab!
Michael: Hey, Randy McNob!
Alan: Stop that now.
Michael: So, how’s you and Sonja getting on.
Alan: Never really thought about it. She’ll be along soon, with a hot desert.
Michael: I tell ya, the way she looks after you, man. You’re looking a gift horse in the mouth.
Alan: No. I think that’s what you were doing last night, Michael.
Michael: So, when’s Lynn getting baptised, then?
Alan: Splashdown for Lynn is 1500 hours on Sunday.
Michael: Ahh, right. And is, lover-boy gonna be there? The ex-policeman?
Alan: Gordon? I hope he’s not doing the dunking. I wouldn’t like to be dunked by a retired policeman. Because when you came up he’d probably go “Where’s the money?” I’d say “I don’t know, I’m just being baptised” “Down you go again”.
Michael: Aye, aye. Here comes Sonja.
Alan: Ah, the dinner lady.
Sonja: This is rhubarb crumble and custard.
Alan: Smashing.
Sonja: Alan, I am a homeless person. I went to my flat, and landlady is telling me that all the girls will have to go because she must sell this house because it will be office block. I have to find somewhere.
Alan: Look. If the worst comes to the worst, you can always move in to Lynn’s mum’s bedroom.
Sonja: I don’t want to sleep in Lynn’s dead mum’s bed.
Alan: Well, Michael did something similar last night and he’s very happy. Come on. Let’s see one of these. <adjusts Sonja’s face into a smile> Actually, that’s just weird.
Alan is being interviewed on the Prayer Wave radio show:
Tessa: Hello, and welcome back to “Prayer Wave” with me, Tessa McPherson. I’m talking to Kate Fitzgerald, who’s book “Someone Else” charts a journey of self discovery…Alan (interrupting): Good title.
Tessa: … it takes you through childhood to your drug addiction and prostitution…
Alan (interrupting): Oh god.
Tessa: …and then to your recover, in a very upbeat sort of a way…
Alan (interrupting): Mine’s upbeat too.
Tessa: I should say at this point that other voice that you can hear is my other guest, Alan Partridge. Now, Alan for a while, had a TV chat show and was quite a big name up there, and then it all went very wrong. And that’s the subject of your book, “Bouncing Back”.
Alan: Yes. I noticed that although Kate in effect felt she bounced back, I feel I have… had and are… bounced… bouncing. I felt that… Do you want to carry on talking to Kate while I just erm, sort something out. Can I borrow a pen?
Tessa: Yes. How’s the book doing?
Kate: It’s doing wonderfully well. The best feedback for me is actually people just coming up to me…
Alan (interrupting): Yeah, I’m all right now. You know.
Kate: Erm. People who felt very alone, but through me they’ve found a friend…
Alan (interrupting): All done.
Tessa: It’s been very well received.
Alan: Sorry.. sorry.
Kate: Can I just say, it’s actually quite distracting when you interrupt.
Alan: You just interrupted her!
Tessa: Erm. Alan. “Bouncing Back”. I suspect you meant it as an ironic title, didn’t you? Because, you haven’t bounced back, have you? Certainly not emotionally, and I think in a sense, not in a career way either. How do you feel about that?
Alan: What?
Kate: I think what Tessa’s saying is that you haven’t bounced back. I mean, I haven’t read your book, I’ve just skimmed it…
Alan (interrupting): I have. I’m doing “Norfolk Nights” and I’ve got a show called… Why are you shaking your head? Are you trying to put me off? Two can play at that game! <Lifts two fingers to Kate> I know you’ve problems, in the past… <mimics injecting into his arm> …The time’s just coming upto 11:30… Sorry, it’s your show.
Tessa: So, err, yes. Bouncing back. You fell quite spectacularly…
Alan (interrupting): Yeah, all right. Do you slow down for car crashes?
Tessa: I suppose, the point I’m trying to make really is that I’ve been looking for the positives in your book, and it is a book that is full of joy. But it’s chiefly joy at other people’s misfortunes.
Kate: I noticed a lot of bitterness. Actually I noticed you end almost every anecdote with the phrase “Needless to say, I had the last laugh.”
Alan: Yeah. Well you could end some of your chapters with “Needles to say… I took drugs”
Tessa: If I can turn to you, Kate.
Alan: Yeah, sure.
Tessa: You come from quite a privileged background.
Kate: Err, Meterially privileged yes, but emotionally undernourished. My father was very distant…
Alan (interrupting): Is that because he lived in a different wing of your house?
Kate: Have you read my book?
Alan: No, but I’ve seen the photographs in the central spine. And I read the bit where you say you put drugs up your bottom. Why? You’ve got a perfectly good mouth.
Kate: Very easy to confuse the two. Sometimes people can actually end up talking out of their arse, Alan.
Tessa: Let’s talk a little bit more about your drug addiction. Now, you were hooked on variety of drugs, weren’t you?
Kate: Yeah. I started on crack.
Alan: Now, that’s not the same as crackling, is it?
Kate: No.
Alan: It’s a joke. I love crackling. I had some last Sunday. It had hairs on it, but I didn’t mind.
Tessa: And then the chemical dependency grew worse?
Kate: Yeah. My drug of choice became ketamine, which is in fact a horse tranquilliser.
Alan: Shi t! Sorry. Did you get that by hanging round stables? You know, you do seem quite posh. I can imagine you in willies and one of those sleeveless anoraks.
Kate: The technical name for that is actually a gilet.
Alan: No, that’s a razor. Could have done with that for the crackling. Have you ever shaved your crackling?
Tessa: Erm. Yes. Ketamine.
Alan: Why give drugs to a horse? Why drag them into it?
Kate: They use ketamine to tranquillise the horse and then to extract the horse’s semen.
Alan: How do they do that?
Kate: I don’t know, the same way that you would a human being.
Alan: What, send him into a cubicle with magazines? They’ve got hooves for goodness’ sake. Four of them. It’d take some doing, but I cant see it.
Tessa: I think we’ve strayed somewhat from the topic. I think it’s interesting you both obviously have addictive personalities. Clearly in your case it was drugs. In your case, Alan, it was chocolate.
Alan: Yes. Specifically Toblerone. I would wake up in the middle of the night and eat an entire Toblerone. And I don’t mean a small one. I mean a medium-sized one. In fact, in the best chapter in my book I talk about when I gorged on Toblerone and drove to Dundeed in my bare feet.
Kate: I have to say. Chocolate addiction is never going to be as destructive as drug addiction.
Alan: What’s her book like?
Kate: Excuse me, I really don’t like being referred to as “her”.
Alan: All right, what’s “his” book like? I don’t know your name. Tara Peter Frampton double-barrel-shotgun Kensington on the horse.
Kate: You really have got a lot of issues.
Alan: Yeah, of “What Car?” magazine.
Tessa: That’s something of a first on “Prayer Wave”. Never had anybody walk out before.
Alan: Yes, I think the atmosphere has turned rather sour.
Tessa: Yes. Let’s see if we can smooth things over with a little bit more from Monteverdi’s “Vespers”.
Alan: Good band.
Tessa: Well, thank you very much for coming on the show, Alan. Slightly more exciting than I’d anticipated.
Alan: Yes. Oh, sorry, can I introduce you, this is my PA, Lynn.
Tessa: Hello.
Alan: You must be a guest on my show sometime. We discuss issues. Europe, conspiracy theories, what happens if you just eat crisps. Things like that.
Tessa: That sounds interesting actually. We’re currently revamping this show. I’m actually looking for a co-presenter at the moment, so be quite interesting to talk to you about some of those ideas. You know I’m the producer of the show as well as the presenter.
Alan: Oh! No! That’s interesting isn’t it. I didn’t know who you are, and yet I still got in with you. Oh, I forgot to say. I am soooo a Christian.
Tessa: It’s not a pre-requisite for being on the programme.
Alan: Come on.
Tessa: No, really. It’s more to to with our family remit.
Alan: Well, I love families, you know. I used to have one, but it left me. This one’s a Baptist. Lynn’s being submerged this week, for her sins. Literally. You’re welcome to come along.
Tessa: Oh, how wonderful. Have you been preparing for it for a long time?
Lynn: Oh, yes. Yes.
Alan [Drifts off into one of his daydreams of him in his car munching on Toblerones}: Lynn! Lynn! Lynn! [Snaps out of it] Shall we make tracks?
Alan is back in the static home with Sonja:
Sonja: So, Alan, when is your book being destroyed?Alan: Sonja, it’s not being destroyed. The correct term is pulped. They’re pulping the remaining unsold 14,000 copies of my book next Thursday. So they can make room for books on Cockney killers.
Sonja: What is Cockey?
Alan: Cockney, Sonja, is an area in London where criminals live. The police don’t arrest them because, and they’re very strict about this, because they only slaughter their own. And they have funerals with horses and floral tributes that say things like “Mum” and “Stab”.
Sonja: They don’t sound so evil, these men like flowers.
Alan: Sonja, these guys, some of the stunts they pull… They’ll chain you to a car that’s been clamped. So the only way you can get yourself free is by phoning the council. But you can’t do that because they’ve shoved your mobile phone up your backside.
Sonja: Mobile phone not hurt too much. Is only small.
Alan: No, Sonja. This was in the late ‘80’s. Mobile phones were like big black plastic bricks with a rubber breadstick sticking out of the top. It’s agony.
Sonja: Maybe if was vibrating phone, it quite pleasant!
Alan: Sonja, this is no laughing matter. You know, if you are at a fun fair, these guys might put your head in a candyfloss machine. And they might be standing round having a great laugh at you with your big pink hair. But you may be very very dizzy. Now, Sonja, I’ve been thinking about your impending homelessness and I’ve come to a decision. I want you to move in.
Sonja: Really?
Alan: I want you to mke the place your own.
Sonja: I can’t believe!
Alan: I’ve bought you the caravan.
Sonja: I don’t live in the house with you?
Alan: Have you seen the size of the box room? I want you here in the caravan. You’d be my very own John West tinned woman. Skipjack Sonja in brine.
Sonja: And I can come visit whenever I want?
Alan: Probably best if I come and see you, actually. Yeah. We’ll set up a signaling system. If you see a bottle of ketchup in the kitchen window, it means “Let’s make love”. “I’m feeling saucy”.
Sonja: You want me to pay rent?
Alan: I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.
Sonja: You’re sure you don’t want me to pay rent?
Alan: No, it’s fine, as I said, I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.
Alan is at Lynn’s baptism:
Gordon: So I came to know a warm woman with a smile for everyone. So, let’s hear it for Lynn.Alan: she didn’t like being in that water did she? See her thrashing around?
Michael: I’ve got it all on here, it’s hilarious, man.
Tessa: That was lovely.
Alan: Yes. It was like a very moving sheep dip. Anyway, I’m down to do a spot now. And I’m going to be saying a lot of interesting things about God. So if you hang around.
Tessa: Oh, Unfortunately I’ve really got to go, Alan.
Alan: I’ll do it now, I’ll do it now.
Alan <Alan begins his speech>: Hello. You probably don’t know me. I’m Alan Partridge. I host “Norfolk Nights” on Radio Norwich, and “Skirmish”, a military-based general knowledge quiz on cable television channel called UK Conquest. But today is Lynn’s day, and what a tragedy that the one person who can’t be here is Lynn’s mum, Peggy, who is dead. We didn’t see eye to eye. There was a lot of bad blood… which coincidentally was one of the complications she had at the end. But erm, I’m digressing. Today is Lynn’s day and she has bounced back in the same way that I have. Because God is a very positive God. Even when he tried to create the world in six days, there were people who said “You can’t do it, it can’t be done”. Although he hadn’t created people then. But the criticism bounced off him like water off… Not off a duck’s back, because he hadn’t invented ducks either. But erm, anyway…Where was I or is I? Is… was… iswas. “Tiswas”. Who remembers “Tiswas”? The 70’s! Spacehoppers and err… sweets they don’t make any more. Er, err, err “Kojak”! Who loves ya, baby? A lollipop. Sorry, it’s not going very well. Oh, I’m gonna kill myself. Where’s my shotgun? Click, click, click. Can’t get my toe on the trigger. Oh, got it. That’s it. And to Lynn.
Alan: Sorry about that. I won’t do they shot gun thing on the radio. That’s just for the Baptists.
Tessa: Anyway, I’ve really got to go.
Alan: Yeah, go, go, go, go, go.
Baptist Guest: Hello, Alan. Can I just say I love your radio show.
Alan: Oh, thank you very much.
Baptist Guest: And I’ve read your book.
Alan: Oh?
Baptist Guest: Have to say, didn’t really work for me.
Alan: F’ck off.
Sonja: First, Alan was very shy before we make love. He was very shy of his body. But I just tell to him ”Please, it doesn’t mind. It’s what’s inside what matter” And also, Alan is pretty well hung, so… Now when we make love, he is like a big god bear.
Alan to Baptist Guest: Oh, erm. I’m sorry about that before. I think you just caught me at a bad moment.
Baptist Guest: Perfectly understandable. So. I hear your book’s being pulped.
Alan: F’ck off!
(Alan’s phone rings)
Alan: Hello? Er, yes, he is. Did he give you my number? Michael, it’s a Nerys for you.
Michael: Hello. Oh, hiya! Oh, Nerys, aye! So I know your name now. No, I can still smell you. ‘Cause I haven’t had a shower or owt.
Alan [daydreaming again about when he had his breakdown]: Lynn! Lynn! Hello, Lynn? I’ve been eating a lot of Toblerone. I’ve eaten four and I’ve got two white ones left. I don’t like them as much as the dark ones. I’m not very happy.
Alan: Hello, again. I’m sorry, about that. It’s just, you know when you have a book out and you get a lot of criticism. It’s very difficult to…
Baptist Guest: Not a problem.
Alan: Unfortunately, people would rather read books about people called Dan the Daggerman from Dagenham.
Baptist Guest: Funny world.
Alan: Tortures you by putting your hair in a fax machine and pressing “Send”. What do you think was actually wrong with my book? Don’t pull any punches.
Baptist Guest: To be honest. I don’t think anecdotes are your forte.
Alan: That’s fair enough. So you don’t think I can tell anecdotes? Can you just pop that down for a second. Right! I’ll tell you an anecdote! In 1975, I was catching the London train from Crewe station. It was very crowded, I found myself in a last minute rush for the one remaining seat with a tall good-looking man with collar-length hair. It was the 70’s. Buckaroo. When I sat down on the chair, I looked up and realized it was none other than Peter Purves. It was at the height of his “Blue Peter” fame! He said, “You jammy bastard” and I quick as a flash I replied “Don’t be blue, Peter”. Needless to say, I had the last laugh. Now f’ck off!
