Season 2, Episode 3 - Bravealan

Alan is beginning his “Norfolk Nights” show:

Alan to his listeners: Tonight, we’re talking about death.
Announcer: Wivenhoe, Flitwick, Tiptree, Holbeach, Pinchbeck, Terrington St Clement, Thetford Forest. It’s 10pm, this is “Norfolk Nights” with Alan Partridge.
Alan: How would you like to be disposed of, when you’re dead? We’re taking letters and emails on that tonight, starting with a letter from Mike who’s 24. He’d like to be buried in a large satin-lined coffin, with a couple of Page Three stunners. They’re alive, he says… I’m not reading that out.
Another letter here from Susan from Spixworth. She said she’d like her ashes to be scattered in a nice field or meadow. That’s the kind of thing we want. [Gets distracted reading Mike’s letter] Sorry.
We’re also taking emails on the big question. What happens after we die? Frederick emails to say he has four children. He is the proud father of a new baby boy, Joshua, and his daughter, Susan, five, has just started school. And he thinks after death, there is nothing.
OK. Two questions. How are we going to eat, and what floor’s the restaurant on? The answer is “The Chinese Way” and Level 42.
Ooh, that was Terence Trent D’arby, cocky man from the ‘80s, helping everyone relax in “Alan’s Deep Bath”.
Announcer: “Alan’s Deep Bath”
Alan: We’re down to the final lather. Just relax. There’s a foamy bit on your shoulder. Let’s make it more frothy with a squirt of light lemon liquid. Don’t you feel good? Relax. Don’t fall asleep and slip under… there’s some terrible statistics about that. Let’s just finish your neck off now with some final suds. Mmmmm!
Announer: “Alan’s Deep Bath”, Alan: Brought to you, by Dettol.
Alan: It’s 1am. Calling  all pigeons. There’s a cat amongst you. And that cat’s name, is Dave Clifton. Prrr-opping up the bar, in his fictional “Nightclub”
Dave: Yeah, well. Better being in a fictional nightclub that a fictional bath, Alan.
Alan: Yeah, well it’s better than having fictional listeners, Dave. It’s bad enough sitting on your own in a real nightclub, which I’ve seen you do, but sitting on your own in a fictional on is got to be the worth of boast worlds.
Dave: Sorry, Alan. Don’t you mean the worst of both worlds?
Alan: No, no, no. I do mean the worth of boast worlds. IE, in the world of boasters – not the biscuits, but people who boast, like you. Their worth is worth… you know…
Dave: OK. Here’s Matt Bianco.
Alan is at the petrol station, talking to Michael:
Alan: Chap there parked on the wrong side of the pumps. Amazing the number of people who still think the petrol cap to a Ford Focus is on the offside rear.
Michael: When will they learn?
Alan: You know what that is, Michael? It’s saaaaad. There’s no point pulling it mate, it’s not going to reach. He’s determined to make it reach. Oh, he has done.
Michael: So, was it a good show tight? Did anybody actually phone in?
Alan: Had a fascicating discussion about reincarnation with a chap from Spixworth. Who was convinced that in a previous life, he’d been Arthur Askey. I pointed out that his and Askey’s life had overlapped, and he backed down.
Michael: I believe in reincarnation, like. I’d like to come back as an animal. Like a dolphin.
Alan: Dolphins are quite intelligent, Michael.
Michael: I can jump through a hoop and catch a fish in me mooth.
Alan: Could you, really?
Michael [Mimics a dolphin]: Yeah,  yeah.
Alan: But  can you do this? [Making a clicking sound]
Michael: What’s that?
Alan: IT’s a dolphin chatting.
Michael: Oh, I can do a whale. Ooooooh!
Alan: No, that’s a homosexual. It’s a fascinating subject, reincarnation. I always wonder what Lynn would come back as.
Michael: Aye, a badger. I’ve always seen her as a badger.
Alan: I can imagine her coming out of a hole, sniffing the air.
Michael: Then you can smack her heed with a  shovel!
Alan: No, I wouldn’t do that, Michael. Even if she was a badger.
Michael: You’ve got to control them, man. You know, they’ve got TB.
Alan: So had the Bronte sisters. I wouldn’t hit them over the head with a shovel, no matter how bad the books were. “Heathcliff” PANG!. Then he really would be wuthering.
Michael: Aye, look. A Lexus. It’s a better one than yours.
Alan: It’s interesting, Michael, since owning a Lexus, it’s amazing the number of Lexi you see around. Because that’s the plural.
Alan’s future best friend, Dan, walks into the garage:
Alan: The Daily Mail.
Dan: Yep.
Alan: Arguably the best newspaper in the world.
Dan: Oh, yes.
Michael: Nice Lexus.
Dan: Yes. I love Lexi.
Alan: Yeah, I always have a thing I say about Lexus, is like the…
Alan and Dan: Japanese Mercedes.
Dan: Yeah, well I hate Mercs. People who drive them are just sa-a-ad.
Alan: Are you wearing Lynx?
Dan: Well smelt. Voodoo.
Alan: Java. Alan Partridge.
Dan: Dan Moody.
Alan: Pleased to meet you.
Michael: I wear Tommy Hilfinger.
Alan: It’s Hilfiger.
Michael: No, it says Hilfinger on the bottle.
Alan: Did you buy it down the market?
Michael: Aye.
Alan: It’s amazing, this Lexus connection. Next you’ll be telling me you drink Directors Bitter.
Dan: I’ve got it coming out of my taps.
Alan: Have you?
Dan: I’m joking.
Alan: Great! It’s amazing we both like the Daily Mail. We both drive Lexi.
Dan: Plural.
Alan: Plural. And we both drink Directors Bitter. It’s like the “X-Files”, but a pleasant “X-Files”.
Dan: The Lex Files.
Alan: God, that’s good. Can I shake your hand again?
Dan: Take a card.
Alan: Oh, you combined the card with the handshake. I used to do that, but kept getting it wrong. Gave a paper cut to a man from Nestle. You own Kitchen Planet on the A416.
Dan: The very same.
Alan: It’s massive.
Dan: 10,000 square feet of sheer kitchens. And I know who you are. “Norfolk Nights”.
Alan: The very same. And, of course, “Skirmish”, a military-based general knowledge quiz show on digital cable channel UK Conquest. That has the largest audience share for a digital channel at that time of day, in the Norfolk area.
Michael: You should dee him a cheap kitchen. He want’s a kitchen.
Alan: Michael, I wouldn’t insult this man by asking for a 25% discount on a kitchen.
Dan: You’re looking for a kitchen, I can get you a kitchen, let’s talk.
Alan: Fancy a Flav?
Dan: Flavia? Good call.
Alan: King of coffees.
Dan: Oh, in off the red.
Alan: How do you take it?
Dan: Unleaded.
Alan: Mine’s diesel.
Dan: What does that mean?
Alan: I don’t know. You know, we’ve got a lot in common, we should go for a proper drink. I mean, you provide quality kitchens and I provide…
Dan: Quality radio.
Michael: And I work in a petrol station.
Alan: Yeah, but it’s just me and Dan that’s going for the drink.
Michael: Oh, yeah, fine. I’ll just get hammered on me own.
Alan: Oh, well. I’ll walk you to your Lexus.
Michael: Shall I put these on the tab?
Alan: Tab? I haven’t got a tab! I wish I could. I wish I could afford a tab. I can afford one, I’ve for a six-figure income.
Alan is in the static home with Sonja:
Alan: Well, Sonja, that was classic intercourse. So, err. Thanks. OK. Let’s just pop the extractor fan on, get a through draught going.
Sonja: Alan, do you want an egg in a bap?
Alan: Yes, please.
Sonja: Here comes your egg in a bap.
Alan: Oooh, great. Mmmm,  yum-yum. Argh, it’s plastic. I’ll look back on that as an excellent practical joke. I presume there’s some sort of whoopee cushion in here somewhere?
Sonja: Yes.
Alan: I’ll look forward to that, taking me by surprise. Where’s Lynn? She’s never normally late.
Sonja: So, this Dan the kitchen man. You like him? You think he will be friend?
Alan: Yes, I’m convinced, he’s my best friend.
Sonja: It will be difficult day for me today in coffee shop. There is new stock, I have to cut the carrot cake.
Alan: And they say nurses have it tough. [There’s a knock at the door] Oh, good. Lynn, come in.
Lynn: Sorry I’m late. I mean, I know I’m not late. I’m just a little bit late.
Alan: Did you get my…
Lynn: I couldn’t find my keys. You see, I had a bit of a late night, last night. We went for a curry, and when we were about to leave, the heavens just opened and we were stuck in the foyer. And we were just pointing at the rain, saying “We’re stuck, we’re stuck, we’re stuck!”.
Alan: Lynn, has your mothers death just hit you?
Lynn: No, we were stuck in the foyer…
Alan: Hang on a second, who’s we?
Lynn: Me and my friend from church.
Alan: And what’s her name?
Lynn: It’s a he.
Alan: Right, Lynn. Sit down. [Lynn sits on the whoopee cushion] Don’t worry about that. It’s just a cushion that simulates rectal gas. Now, what’s his name.
Lynn: Gordon.
Alan: How long has Gordon been a member of the church?
Lynn: A few weeks, he’s just moved into the area.
Alan: He’s a con man.
Lynn: No. He’s a retired policeman.
Alan: Lynn, bigamists have several identities. To men like that, the building society books of women like you make fascinating reading.
Lynn: Sorry. Just thinking of Gordon and me stuck in the rain.
Alan: Stop laughing, Lynn. You’re laughing at weather! You’re like your mother in her last few weeks. We’ll have to have a serious talk in the morning.
Alan receives a phone call from Dan:
Alan: Hello, Partridge. You’re through to the static home. Dan! Dan! Sir Dansworth of Moodyshire as I live and breathe! I know it was you. I keyed it in last night when I drove home. Nearly hit a badger. Yeah, well they’re pests, aren’t they. [Looks over at Lynn] Yeah. They carry TB.
So, how’s it hanging? Yes, I dress on the left too! I’d love to, love to.
Alan to Sonja: Dan has asked me to present a prize at the Norfolk Bravery Awards tonight.
Alan to Dan: Yeah, I’d be delighted. Well, you’ve got to put a bit back [Sonja attacks Alan with a joke hammer] No, please! No! Oh, sorry. No, my Ukranian girlfriend was attacking me with a rubber hammer. She’s mildly cretinous. OK. Bye. Bye-bye.
Alan to Lynn and Sonja: You know who’s going to be at the Norfolk Bravery Awards?
Sonja: Who?
Alan: Who!? It reads like a whos-who of anyone who’s anyone, who’s in the Norfolk area.
Lynn: Do you want me to come, Alan?
Alan: No thanks, Lynn.  I’ll be fine. You and Gordon can go and laugh at drizzle.
Sonja: Tonight I will try out some of my jokes, and make brave people laugh again.
Lynn: Do you need me to be..
Alan: Just keep her away from the dignitaries.
Lynn: What about brave people?
Alan: Oh, she can mingle with them. As long as she doesn’t use her whoopee cushion on someone with M.E.
Lynn: I’ll be off then.
Alan: One more thing, Lynn. [Holds up a joke knife] Aaarrgh! [Lynn grabs Alan by the neck] It’s a joke knife! It’s a joke knife! It’s a joke knife! It’s funnier than rain.
Alan is in the car with Lynn and Sonja heading to the Norfolk Bravery Awards:
Alan: Dan’s a fantastic man! He really is. I was making him laugh this morning, I was on the phone to him. He was asking me what kind of phone I had, and I said “A Motorola Timeport”. And he said “That’s Sa-a-ad! You want to upgrade”. And I said “So do you, to a new face!”. He nearly soiled himself! He said he laughed so much, he had Kenco coming out of his nostrils. And that made me laugh.But my nostrils were clear. You can drown in a cup of coffee, or is it an inch of water?
Sonja [wearing a fake beard]: Alan, look. You’re taking a man to the party.
Alan to Lynn: Get it off her.
Lynn: Oh, look, Sonja. [Lynn grabs the beard, hands it to Alan who throws it out of the car]
Sonja: Alan!
Alan: Well done, Lynn. That was textbook.
Alan arrives at Choristers:
Alan: I will, I will. But, Lynn, please have a word with the builder. Because the other day his jeans were so far off his backside, you could more or less see his anus. There’s Dan. Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! Dan! He’s not seen me. I’ll get him later. DAN! Fine.
Alan is presenting an award to Susan Cresswell at the Norfolk Bravery Awards:
Alan: These awards are about people like Susan Cresswell. Susan is braver than ten firemen, or a dozen policemen. Four years ago, Susan lost her hand in a cake-cutting machine. She managed to walk 400 yards, holding her hand in her other hand, where she hailed a taxi. One can only imagine what that must have looked like. The quick thinking taxi driver drove her to a newsagent, wher the hand was packed in Soleros, Magnums, Mini Milks and a Feast. After six hours of surgery, the hand was sown back on. Sadly,  it didn’t work, so off it came again. But she still had one good hand, and she was damned if anyone was going to take that off her. No one was suggesting they were going to do that. Anyway, the point is, four years later, she is credit controller at Cromwell Certificated Bailiffs. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a  big hand… Applaud! Applaud like mad for Susan Cresswell.
Alan is mingling at the awards:
Alan to Lynn: Single-hand Sue there, tackling the buffet. Like a human JCB.
Dan: See that man over there with the big head and small face? That’s Mike Yapely.
Bob: What, who owns the Car Supermarket on the A47?
Dan: The very same.
Ceri: He is such a character. But he’s got a heart of gold.
Dan: Yeah, teeth of gold as well!
Alan: I heard he hit a prostitute.
Dan: Alan. How was your visit to the lavatory?
Alan: Mission accomplished. Splash down.
Bob: Did you see Mr Brown and his friends off to the coast?
Alan: Yeah. Actually, I should get a bravery award for that, I’ll tell you. No, seriously, it was textbook.
Dan: Alan, this is Bob Fraser.
Bob: I own Sexton’s Garden Centre.
Alan: Wow. Hey, I’ll tel you. If a bomb went off in here tonight, the whole of society would collapse. In Norwich… for a bit.
Bob: Yeah, look, lovely to meet you Alan.  I’m just going to have a chinwag with Mike Yapely.
Alan: OK. Don’t dress as a whore, he’ll thump you.
Dan: Alan, you must meet my lady wife Ceri.
Ceri: I love listening to your “Deep Bath”, alan.
Alan: Well, Dan’s told me all about you.
Ceri: Oh, what did he say?
Alan: He just said he was married.
Dan: Well, give the man a twirl. Let the dog see the rabbit.
Alan: Oh yeah, but which is which? Sorry. I’m the dog. You’re a terrific rabbit.
Alan: Oh, a lovely olden days map of Norfolk, there.
Dan: Yep. They call Norfolk the rump of Britain.
Ceri: I think it looks more like a boob.
Dan: Oh! I stand corrected, said the man in the orthopaedic shoes!
Alan: Cracking!
Dan: Oh, there goes Karen Colman.
Alan: Is that Karen Colman, Colman’s Mustard Colman?
Ceri: Yeah.
Alan: She is the Grace Kelly with black hair of Norfolk.
Dan: Her house is massive.
Alan: I know, they use it in Hammer Horror films. It’s Darcula’s house. Can I just go and talk to her?
Dan: It’s a free country.
Alan seizes the opportunity to speak to Karen Colman:
Alan: Oh, this.
Lynn: I’m just keeping a close eye on Sonja.
Alan: Just make sure she hasn’t got any stink bombs strapped to her body. If she detonates those, it’ll be the mother of all pongs. Then we’ll see who’s brave.
Alan: Would you like to meet Karen Colman?
Patricia: Well, yes. I don’t really know her.
Alan: Room for a brave one? Beep-beep! Come on, mate, we’re on wheels here! Excuse me? Mustard. I mean, Karen. This lady would love to meet you.
Patricia to Karen: Hi. I’m Patricia Lessing.
Karen: Oh, Karen Colman. Nice of you to come. Well, I hope you are being looked after.
Alan to Patricia: Do you want to meet Bob? He owns a garden centre.
Alan to Karen: Yes. She’s an amazing woman.
Karen: My grandfather was in a wheelchair.
Alan: Really? Was he born in a wheelchair? Not sure what I meant by that.
Patricia: Karen, I wonder if I can bend your ear for a moment?
Karen: Yes, of course.
Patricia: I run a project in Ipswich where we help disabled  people setup their own businesses…
Karen: Oh, really? Well, we must talk. Let me get you a drink.
Patricia: Oh, thank you.
Alan to Particia: Would you be brave enough to let me finish my conversation?
Patricia: I just wanted to talk about my project.
Alan: Yeah, listen love, it’s just a meet and greet. Come on, you can push your way to the front of the buffet queue, it’s not all doom and gloom.
Karen: Whre’s she gone?
Alan: She drove off. As a mustardess, if you like, what’s your view on the new kids on the block? I mean things like Tabasco sause and soy. I mean, do those keep you awake at night?
Karen: Well, as we say in our family, too much mustard gets up your nose.
Alan: Marvellous.
Karen: So many brave people here today.
Alan: They’re so ruddy bloody brave. I love brave people. Sir Donald Campbell. Evil Knievel. Braveheart… And, of course, yourself.
Karen: Oh, I’m not brave. I just do my bit at events like this and fund-raising for mental health charities.
Alan: That’s one charity I avoid, actually, Mental health. Don’t want to get tarred with the mad brush.
Karen: I really should go and mingle now.
Alan: I have mental health problems.
Karen: Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have realised. Although, I did wonder when I first met you.
Alan: I won’t bore you with the details, but I drove to Dundee in my bare feet. After buying the rights to K-9, the robot dog on casters from “Dr Who”.
Karen: Well, listen. We must talk. I’ve done an awful lot of work in that field.
Dan to Alan: Did you find out how much she’s got? Hey, Alan. You know that thing you were saying about Norfolk being like a breast, well Ceri just said the A47 ring road is the areola!
Alan: Yeah, that’s not really my kind of humour, actually.
Dan: Anyway, Alan Partridge, I arrest you on suspicion of sucking up to a mustard magnate
Alan: You’re not a copper.
Dan: Well, it’s a citizens arrest.
Alan: Well, I’ll shoot you then, bang!
Dan: I’m wearing a bulletproof blazer.
Alan: Well, I’ll go for a head shot.
Dan: I’m the Terminator you can’t kill me!
Alan: I’ve got your kids, I’ve got your kids, Dan.
Alan sees Sonja talking to Karen Colman:
Alan: Oh, cook a cat!
Sonja to Karen: Then, I met a guy called Jack, on the internet, then we went back to his first wife. And my boyfriend call him Jack shit!
Alan to Karen: Is this lady annoying you?
Karen: No, not at all. She’s been telling me the problems in getting into this country. I think people like Sonja should be helped to settle here, permanently.
Alan: I think you have to judge each case on it’s merits.
Karen: Listen. Things are beginning to wind down here. I’ve got some friends coming for a drink at the house.
Alan: Splending and tremedndous.
Karen: It’s a girls only night tonight.
Alan: Ah, loads of women talking blabberiung crap?
Sonja [with joke glasses on]: Look, I’m brave. My eye’s falling out!
Alan: That’s the tip of the iceberg. Oh, you think it’s funny.
Alan is at a loose end after the awards, heads to the arcade then Michaels house:
Alan: Shitty zombies!
Michael: Oh, Mr Partridge.
Alan: Hello, Michael.
Michael: I cannot sell you any petrol.
Alan: No, no. I was just passing, I just thought I’d…
Michael: Oh, right.
Alan:… say hello.
Michael: Would you like some soup?
Alan: I’m not a tramp, Michael.
Michael: No, no, no, I’m just offering you something to eat, like.
Alan: Well, what have you got?
Michael: I can do you a cup of beans.
Alan: A cup of beans?
Michael: Have you never had a cup of beans, man? Oh, aye. You’re in for a treat here. [Alan attempts to walkinto Michaels house] Stay there.
Alan: Yeah,right.
Michael: There you go. As ordered. One cup of beans. And I’ve put a sausage in, and all. So, it’s a Michael special.
Alan: Lovely. It’s sort of like a savoury 99.
Michael: Aye. Aye! You use the sausge to scoop the beans oot.
Alan: Have you got a spoon?
Michael: No.
Alan: You haven’t got a spoon?
Michael: There’s one in the bathroom, but I’ve no cause to use it.
Alan: Are you alright, Michael? You seem a bit at a loose end.
Michael: I’m watching a documentary aboot Triads, like.
Alan: I always wondered, how they get those swords through customs.
Michael: Aye. Probably just put them inside a cardboard tube, like. What you’d put a poster in, eh?
Alan: That’s a good idea.
Michael: Bye.
Alan: Bye. What do want me to do with this…
Michael: Put it on the step.
Alan: Yeah, right.
Alan turns up at Dan’s house:
Alan on the phone to Lynn: Hello, Lynn. I’m at Dan’s big house. Can you come with the kitchen brochures? So that’s, Smeg, Neff, Poggenpohl and Bosch!
Dan: Come on in, come on in.
Alan: Dan, can we still talk about kitchens?
Dan: I speak no other language. Get you a drink?
Alan: Yeah, nice big fat shot of Director’s bitter.
Ceri: Oh, hello, Alan.
Alan: Oh, hello.
Ceri: Budge up.
Alan: Sorry I’m a bit late.
Ceri: What have you been up to?
Alan: Tried to outdance a computer. Impossible. And then I fought some zombies with a boy in care. Wiped the floor with him. Your hand is about 30 mil from my gland. And if I was dressed on the other side, it would be in contact. Your little finger just touched it. [Takes Ceri’s hand and places it on her lap] I’ll just pop that there.
Dan: The kitchen?
Alan: Oh, good.
Dan: This is the one for you.
Alan: Right.
Dan: Budge up.
Alan: What, that way?
Dan: Yep.
Alan: That’s a good stainless steel hob. Very futuristic. [To Ceri] That’s you. You’re naked. [To Dan] There’s you. Hello, Dan. Is that a granite work surface that’s supporting you both? Not Corian, a man-made marble substitute?
Dan: Well, Corian is to marble and granite what MDF is to wood. I’ve got wood there.
Alan: No, that’s MDF. Oh, I see. You’re making a joke. MDF’s banned in America.
Ceri: So’s that.
Alan: Oh, all done. Think I’ll go.
Dan and Ceri: Alan!
Alan: I’ve just remembered my dad is, still dead. My dad’s dead.
Lynn: Alan?
Alan: That was quick.
Lynn: You rang earlier to bring over the kitchen brochures.
Dan: Can I get you a drink, Lynn?
Lynn: Oh, a Baileys, please.
Dan: Take a seat.
Alan: Sit there, sit there, sit there.
Lynn: Oh, this is a comfy sofa.
Alan: Oh, Jesus.
Dan: I’ll get the drinks [strokes Alan’s face]
Alan: Aah!
Ceri: I’ll see where your drink is.
Alan: Lynn, these are sex people.
Lynn: What do you mean?
Alan: They’re sex swappers! Lynn, this is Defcon One. Look. [Plays video of Dan and Ceri]
Lynn: Urgh!
Alan: Don’t make the same noise as them! They’ll think you’ll want to join in. I’ll pause it. Oh, I’ve hit fast forward. Looks like a sort of hard-core Benny Hill. That’s the kitchen work surface I was telling you about.
Dan: Lynn, Lynn, your Baileys.
Lynn: No, thanks. I don’t want to be part of your sex festival.
Alan: Sex festival? Can I be very rude? Not like that [points to the TV]
Dan: Try me.
Alan: No, no. Come on, pack it in, mate. I don’t want to have sex with your wife. Even though, from the promotional  videao, I can see that I would have a ruddy good time.
Ceri: Want a little hug?
Alan: A quick one. Don’t rub your fanny on me!
Ceri: Look forward to listening to your “Deep Bath” later, Alan.
Alan is back in the studio, clearly unhappy about what happened at Dan’s house:
Announcer: From Felixstowe to Spalding. All the issues.
Alan: It’s 11:30. Time for my “Deep Bath”
Announcer: “Alan’s Deep Bath”
Alan: That’s the last one, we’re stopping this after tonight. So, there’s the bath, hop in, wash yourself. There’s a loofah. Do be clean. There’s a big coarse towel on the radiator. Don’t forget to rinse the bath, once you’ve drained the water. Use the shower nozzle to blast off the scum. Here’s Brian and Michael.
Alan [on a video game]: King of Anglia!

Season 2 Episode 2 - The colour of Alan

Alan is in the Radio Norwich studio, presenting the evening show:

Alan: That was Roxanne, by the Police or as they’re now known, Sting. A song there about a prostitute. Doesn’t say what her surname is. Must give her a call sometime. Although the effects of 23 years on the game, would not render her pleasurable to mine eye. Just time for one quick funny story before the news. On line four we have Roy from Bungay. Hello, Roy.
Roy: Hello?
Alan: Funny story, what is it?
Roy: I sold this Makita cordless power drill in the local paper. And then six months later, I received the very same one back as a Christmas present from my brother-in-law, minus the power pack.
Alan: I see. So the present you gave away, you then got back?
Roy: Yeah, that’s it. Goodbye.
Alan: What a funny story. That was a funny story. I wonder who got the power pack. News.

Alan is in his half built house, talking to the builders:

Alan to Carl: I’m in a good mood today, because I’ve just found out my wife has been struck off my life insurance. Spice World! Are you married?
Carl: Yeah.
Alan: Divorced. I’ve got access to the kids but they don’t want to see me.
Alan to John: Hello, John.
John: Al. We’ve concreted the floor.
Alan: No bodies underneath there, I hope!
John: What?
Alan: I’m just joshing with you, you know. Have you put t’corpse under t’patio? I expect you get that all the time.
John: Not really.
Alan: Eeh! ‘Appen he thinks I’m a right indecisive tit.
Carl: I don’t think he likes it when you do that accent.
Alan: Well… I’ll stop then.
Carl: Can you not put your foot on…
Alan: I wasn’t going to I was just going to do a cockney walk.
Alan: Actually, I’ve got some good news. Because I’ve just come into a rrrrather substantial amount of money. I’m going to host a sales conference for Dante’s of Reading, the Ferrari of the coal-effect gas fireplace industry. And if this job comes off, then as regards decision making I think we’ll be in a “can-do, go” sid-uation. I won’t bore you with the details…
Carl: Great.
Michael: Right! Hands of your cocks and on with your socks!
Alan: It’s all right Lynn, it’s just an army saying. Give us another one Michael.
Michael: Kill! Kill! Stab! Twist! Kill!
Alan: Michael’s going to be staying here for a bit, till they put his front door back on. Welcome aboard the good ship… My house.
Lynn to Alan: Do you want to tell Michael there’s no smoking in the house.
Alan to Michael: There’s actually no smoking in the house.
Michael to Alan: Do you want to tell here who’s hoose it is?
Alan to Lynn: It’s my house.
Michael to Lynn: If you’ve got owt to say, you can say it to me face.
Lynn to Michael: It’s a matter of hygene.
Alan to both of them: Whoa! Hey! Back off, seconds out, round one, ding-ding!
Alan to Lynn: I’d never let that happen. He’d batter you.
Alan: Mary Poppins! What’s that?
Michael: Oh that? That’s me bike. That’s Desert Storm.
Alan: The Iraqis must have been petrified when they seen that coming over the horizon. Especially if it had one of those cigarette cards in the spokes, so it went “Ffffff”. Aaaggggh!

Alan invites Lynn and Michael into the static home to bury the hatchet over a machine coffee:

Alan: Lynn, I need to speak to you about something. Sonja has made me this. It’s a mug with my face on one side, and a cat on the other.
Lynn: What does it mean?
Alan: I don’t know, I’ve no idea. And I think she’s planning something much worse. She’s talking about seeling this stuff down at the covered market.
Lynn: That’s terrible.
Alan: It’s a disaster! I don’t want my face on this! I might put it on a jar of pasta. Did you hear back from Dolmio about my pasta gravy sauce?
Lynn: No.
Alan: Let it go.
Michael: Hey, do you fancy a cup of delicious microwavable soup?
Alan: Yeah, just pop it in the microwave. Hey, Michael, can you imagine if they had microwaves in medieval times? Imagine a giant microwave and you can just pop a witch in it. Horrific!
Michael: If she bursts, she’s innocent.
Alan: Yeah. And if she comes out looking normal, but cold on the outside and hot in the middle, she’s a witch.
Michael: Have to remember to take the foil off first.
Alan: No that’s just pies.
Lynn: Do you mind me watching Poirot on UKGOLD?
Alan: No, no, no, as long as you pop the earphones on. Oh, you have.
Alan to Michael: Look at her, dead to the world. She’s sitting in the exact spot where me and Sonja ‘have it off.
Michael: So are you still doing it twice a day?
Alan: Yeah, you know, diary permitting.
Michael: Careful you don’t give yourself a heart attack.
Alan: No, it’s actually quite for you. It’s cardiovascular exercise, because if you think about it, it’s like press ups isn’t it?
Michael [Simulating having sex]: I suppose yeah. Because you are sort of working the main major muscle groups, like.
Alan: That is a woman?
Michael: Aye, its long hair.
Alan: Could be Brian May. That’s not his cup of tea. That’s the other one. God rest his soul.
Alan: Actually, I’ve got a book signing to do later, I’ve got to pop up to Choristers  and get the PA. If they haven’t lost it, the security is terrible. Probably even let someone like you in.
Michael: That’s ridiculous!
Alan: I know! And the person who stole your front door!

Alan goes back to the house where Sonja is talking to the builders, holding two cushions with her and Alans face printed on:

Sonja: You just take normal photograph into Snappy Snaps. And he put photo on cushion! This cushion is called scatter cushion. It’s brilliant. I call it the scatter love cushion. Because it represents my love for Alan.
Carl: You can sit on his face!
Sonja: What do you mean?
Carl: Sit on Alan’s face. You know, it’s a joke.
Sonja: It’s a very filthy joke [Attacking the builders with the cushions] An Alan is hitting you! And I’m hitting you!
Alan: Whoa, whoa, whoa! That’s English for stop a horse!
Sonja: He is being very disgusting.
Alan: What did he say?
Sonja: He say I sit on your face.
Alan to builders: Have you been spying on us?
Carl: No!
Alan: Sonja, I’ll handle this. Go and sit in the static home.
Alan to builders: Sorry about that.

Alan is at Choristers to pick up the PA:

Alan into intercom: Hello, I’m a communist with a gun. I hate you lot. I’ve just thrown the Royal family out of a plane. Can I use your toilet? [Gate opens] Utter, utter, nutters!

Alan is at Norwich train station, plugging his book:

Alan over PA: Hello commuters, with your computers! This book would fit, ideally, into an attaché case or the thigh pocket of a pair of fashionable combat trousers. Not like those massive Stephen King books. They should be on wheels, shouldn’t they? Embarrassing. Idiot!
For £10 you get a very good book, and a free torch, a Danko Night Stick as used in futuristic series “The X Files”, there’s a demonstration model tied to the chair, with a skipping rope, by that woman.
Alan to commuter: What is it you want? Train for Lowestoft is on platform four, it leaves in five minutes so you better learn to jog again, quickly. Seriously, run. You will miss it.
Alan over PA: This book is a top business aide. As I’m sure you are sir. Look at that. Not even listening. Off to London, no doubt. Go to London, I guarantee you’ll either be mugged or not appreciated. Catch the train to London. Stopping at: Rejection. Disappointment. Back-stabbing Central and Shattered Dreams Parkway.
Lynn: Alan! Alan! There! It’s Piet Morant from Dante Fires! He’s just got off the train.
Alan: He can’t see me.
Lynn: Why not?
Alan: To the untrained eye, this could look like it’s rubbish and I haven’t bounced back.
Lynn: But you have!
Alan: I know! Point him out to me.
Lynn: He’s got a beard.

Alan takes Piet to Choristers for a meeting:

Alan: Sorry about the smell of urine, but there really is nothing to do around here. With Apache, it is a one-stop shop.
Alan: What part of Birmingham are you from?
Piet: No, Alan. I’m actually from South Africa.
Alan: Oh, yes of course. I should have gissed!
Alan into Security Intercom: Hello, security? I am an arsonist, with a big box of matches. Please, can I come in to set fire to the staff? [Gate opens] Unbelievable.
Alan: It’s ridiculous, they know who I am. But you could be a sex offender. All right, you’ve come to use the excellent facilities, but you’re still a sex offender.
Piet: But I’m not a sex offender.
Alan: It’s all right, they wont ask you about it.
Piet: But I’m not a sex offender!
Alan: Great! That’s something we’ve got in common. The security is terrible here. I actually booked the room under the name of “The Real IRA”. They didn’t bat an eyelid. I’ll just go and tell them it’s me.
Alan: We’ve got to get out of here!
Piet: What’s the problem?
Alan: Crossed wires.
Piet: Well, shall we go to Apache?
Alan: What, my house? There’s no electricity.
Piet: Well, you know. I’d just like to see the setup.
Alan: Yes, we’ll go straight to Apache, after a pub lunch. For an hour.

Alan takes Piet to his house to conduct the meeting:

Piet: Alan, theres some really nice houses around here.
Alan: Yeah. Actually, sorry it’s a bit of a building site. Technically you should have a hat hard-on. What am I saying? I mean a hat hard-on. I’ve done it again! Come in.
Michael: Hello. How-do-you-do? How nice to-meet-you.
Piet: How do you do.
Alan: This is Michael.
Piet: That’s a very unusual accent you’ve got there. Where are you from?
Michael: I’m originally from Newcastle, like!
Alan: Michael’s in charge of our internet computer.
Michael: Aye. There’s nee porn no it!
Alan to Piet: Did you understand that?
Piet: No.
Alan: Good. This is Lynn. Close your mouth, Lynn.
Piet: So, this is Apache Communications.
Alan: Yeah. We normally have three clocks on the wall, there. Telling the time in London, Paris and Dublin. Which is the same as London, but I do think sometimes you need to be reminded of that.
Piet: I’m dying to hear your ideas for the fireplace conference, Alan.
Alan: Grab a sofa!
Piet: Just over here?
Alan: Sure, yeah. Let me tell you about the setup here. You cant use the toilet, because it’s blocked. Yeah, you see. At Apache, Waaaaay! Sorry, this is a new table, it’s not quite finished. Want to pop this on? Oh no, it’s hiding a handle. Piece of fruit?
Piet: No, thanks. No.
Alan: Did you see that?
Piet: Yes.
Alan: I think the designer has gone for that “toilet door balanced on a Black & Decker Workmate” effect.
Piet: Alan, I can’t see you.
Alan: That’s fine. No problem. I’ll just hop up here.
Piet: That caravan there, who’s is it?
Alan: The builders live in there. Lynn sometimes goes in there. I don’t think there is anything going on. I told her I disapprove of workplace relationships. But, shit happens! [Alan falls of the sofa] You’ve got to laugh when you fall off a sofa! Bloody sofa! [Sticks two fingers up to the sofa]
Alan: Shall we put the lights on, or shall we wait fifteen minutes?
Piet: Never mind that, Alan. All I want to know is, can you give us a pyrotechnics and light show?
Alan: Absolutely. We can do you pyrotechnics! But I recommend you start with a couple of humourous comments. Couple of jokes, perhaps.
Piet: We don’t want a clown, Alan.
Alan: Oh god no. You don’t want a clown. They’d  never get to the podium with those long shoes on. Actually, how do clowns go down in South Africa? Because, with all that make up on, they’re neither one thing or the other. Are the allowed on buses?
Piet: Look, Alan.  No clowns, no gags.
Alan: Just a couple of jokes?
Piet: No, Alan. No.
Alan: Please?
Piet: No, you cant!
Alan: Well there’s no need for that! I only want to do a couple of jokes.
Piet: You can’t!
Alan: You’ve done it again! You’ve said it again! Just because I’ve got a shit table? What do you want?
Piet: I want you to turn the lights on.
Alan: Good call. Michael?
Michael: Aye.
Alan: Oh, you’re there. Shall we pop the lights on?
Michael: Mind your heeds! Coming doon!
Alan: Yeah. Now, it does look to me like torches attached to bicycle wheel. Probably designed by the same person who did the table. I like South Africa. And I hated those people who wouldn’t trade with you in the 80’s. I carried on buying your tomatoes all through that period. You say tomato, I say tom-ay-to. You say [South African accent] to-mar-toe! I say potato, you say [South African accent] po-tay-toe! Let’s call the whole thing a thoroughly nice chap, and doesn’t matter what race he is. Lynn?!
Lynn: Yes?
Alan: Oh you’re there. I don’t think this is quite bright enough. I think we are going to have to “Go Nuclear”.
Piet: Look, Alan. It’s too late to cancel. I’m sorry.
Alan: It’s easily done. If you’re going to be angry, you don’t mind being angry down the centre of the table. When this meeting is over, I’m taking this table back. It’s bloody useless.
Alan shouting to Lynn[Car hazard lighst start flashing through the window]: You’ve hit the hazards!
Alan: If I’ve said full beam once, I must have said it a dozen times. Level with me Piet. Have I got this job?
Piet: Given that it’s too late to book anyone else, the answer has to be, yes.
Alan: Jack-a-nack-a-nory! [Headlights come on] Ah, that’s better. [South African accent] Full beam!

Alan is in the caravan with Sonja:

Alan on the phone: For the conference, I’d like four glitter explosions. Twelve puff flashes. So the sequence should be puff, flash, puff, flash, bang. Well basically, can I have a condensed Pink Floyd concert for £500? Ok, thanks, Lynn!
Sonja: You want to eat?
Alan: What have we got?
Sonja: We got eggs, we got chicken.
Alan: Which came first!
Sonja: Well, I just buy the chicken on Thursday.
Alan: Chicken’s fine.
Sonja: It’s empty.
Alan: What do you mean?
Sonja: The chicken is empty.
Alan: What do you mean the chicken is empty, do you mean it’s hollow?
Sonja: No, where is the chicken inside the chicken?
Alan: You didn’t buy a display model, did you?
Sonja: The insides.
Alan: Oh,  the giblets?
Sonja: Yeah, giblets. Yes, where is that?
Alan: But that’s awful.
Sonja: I like them!
Alan: You might eat them in your country, sweetheart. But we don’t here. I don’t want to eat an intestine, or a chicken heart on a mini muffin! It’s like some sort of voodoo canope!
Sonja: You want to make love? The bed’s ready.
Alan: Nar, I’m fine thanks. Just go and check on Michael.
Sonja: Ok. Alan, I love you.
Alan: Thanks a lot!

Alan goes into the house to check on Michael:

Alan: Hello, Michael. Do you want to be on your own?
Michael: Oh, no. Fine, it’s nice. Have a bit of company, you know. Keep the demons at bay.
Alan: I was just thinking, actually. Could you imagine if we were the last two peole on earth, camped out up here?
Michael: Oh, aye! We’d have to breed!
Alan: Yeah. I think I’d prefer to adopt. Men can these days.
Michael: I’d adopt a greyhound. Coz the last one I had was right clever you know.
Alan: Yeah, if they were that clever they would know that thing that they chase after, isn’t a rabbit.
Michael: Mind you, you know, if this fireplace conference gans well you could get yourself a helicopter.
Alan: Yeah, I’d love to fly a helicopter. There’s no doubt about it, Michael, the world’s getting smaller.
Michael: Aye, that’s global warming.
Alan: No, that’s something different. I’d just like to fly a helicopter all around Norfolk. You know, swoop down over a field. Scare a donkey so that it falls into a river. Hover over one of those annoying families that go on holidays on bikes. And shout at them “get out of the area!” and watch them panic!
Michael: Me, I’d have an Apache attack helicopter.
Alan: Oh, great.
Michael: I’d gan back to school. First I’d take out the labs. And then I’d type into the attck computer “Mr Cragg, chemistry teacher”, blow him to bits!
Alan: Yeah, I know the feeling.
Michael: Then I’d gan looking for Tom Donaldson.. I’d be hovering, just doon the road from his hoose, there. And he’s see us, but I’d duck down behind the trees. And he’s thinks he’s safe, right. And he’s just about to put his key in the front door, and I’d come up from behind the hedge “Hello, you bastard!”. He panics, right. And he gans in the hoose. So I get the 30mm canon, and I take out the fish pond. Koi carp in there, £20 each, right. And then, I’ll just tilt the helicopter over to one side, and the machine gun bullets are chewing up the drive, right. He comes oot “Oh no! not me Triumph Stag, I’ve just had it resprayed!”. I cut it right in half, right. And then he gans “Aaarrgh!”, and he runs up on the garage roof. I say “Right, this if for you, Tom” he goes “No, no!”. He’s beggin us, he’s begging us, man. “No! Please! Don’t!”. And then I fly off to Cornwall, and just smash into the sea in a big ball of flames.
Alan: Sleep well, Michael! Who’s Tom Donaldson?
Michael: Oh, he’s just a mate.

Alan is at Choristers, he’s forgotton his security card:

Alan into Security Intercom: Hello, I’ve just swallowed a load of anthrax, and I’d like to let-off like mad in the club bar, can I come in. [No reponse] You haven’t opened the gate, well done. Now, I’ve just remembered, I’ve forgotten my card. I was showing it to a Geordie last night, he asked to hold it, and I’ve gone and left it in his bloody hands! [No response] Hello?
Security Guard: Hello?
Alan: Right. I think, what’s happened here is I made a complaint about you, and you’re pursuing a vendetta. Which, I can understand. [No response] Hello?
Security Guard: Hello?
Alan: Right. You do know who I am?
Security Guard: No.
Alan: I’ve got it. There’s a complimentary copy of my book “Bouncing Back” behind reception, can you see it?
Security Guard: Yeah.
Alan: Right, great. Well, I’ll replicate the cover stance.
Security Guard: Ok, go on then. [Alan, replicates the cover stance]
Receptionist: Hello, can I help you?
Alan: Yeah, is Shaun there?
Receptionist: No, he’s just knocked-off for the evening. Can I help you?
Alan: No, no. It’s fine. Thank you. [Alan tries to climb over the fence]
Lynn: Alan, what are you doing?
Alan: Climbing over a fence.
Lynn: You should watch yourself, you’re nearly fif…
Alan: Were you going to say I was nearly fifty, Lynn? I might be nearly fifty, Lynn, but at least I… Eeeeeeegh!
Lynn: What?
Alan: Lynn, I’ve pierced my foot on a spike! It ruddy hurts like mad!
Lynn: Get yourself into the recovery position.
Alan: You’re just quoting bits of “Casualty” now.
Lynn: Pull it off, all at once.
Alan: Then all the blood will run out of the hole in my foot.
Lynn: Pull your foot off, now.
Alan: What, and leave it on the spike?
Lynn: Well, pull it off the spike. After three.
Alan: No, I’m not going to do it, Lynn. You pull your foot off.
Lynn: Well, mine’s not on the spike.
Alan: There’s someone coming, be normal, be normal.
Alan to Conference Attendee: Hello, Dante Fires, just through there.  Ooooooh, you’re gonna have a good time! Just being a bit camp.

Alan and Lynn are now inside Chorister, preparing for the conference:

Alan: I feel the blood squelching in my shoe. Can you hear it squelching? Listen. Just listen, listen. Argh!
Lynn: Oh, look at you, Alan. You should be in hospital.
Alan: Lynn, some of these people have come from Stoke! I’m going on.
Lynn: Shall I go on for you?
Alan: Lynn, you couldn’t present a cat!

Alan is presenting at the conference:

Alan: A-ha-aarrgh! What a year it’s been for Dante. Fires. Maybe you’re here tonight with a wife, or an old flame. But what is, the burning issue? Hit your targets or you’ll be, fired. But today is also about fun. Have you all got your fun packs? I’ve got one here. I’ve dropped it. I’ve got a list, here. It should contain a torch, a Curly Wurly, a book of stamps, a free digital watch with denim strap, a vodka miniature, a BIC-style razor, a copy of the Daily Express… ooooh, it’s a good paper.
First award tonight, is for the best, Christ. Not Christ. Sorry, I keep saying Christ. I know some of you may be religious. And to those people, I apolo… [starts vomiting, hits the glitter explosion button] I was supposed to hit that later. Just wait for it to finish. A glittering year ahead. You might want to read your Daily Express. [Torch shines in Alan’s face] Don’t shine that torch in my face, mate. I’ve just lost a pint of blood.
On, now. As we look back at a fantastic year for direct ven… I’m going to be sick again [starts vomiting, then wreching] You know that feeling when there is nothing coming up? [more wreching] August bucked the trend for downturn in fireplace sales [more wreching] Ah, I sound like the devil. Foot’s come out my shoe. That’s not going back in, again. Do you want some more glitter? [another glitter explosion] Two grand, that cost. I was going to give out some awards, but that’s not going to happen. I mean, look at me. Go and eat some coffee, drink it. It’s soup you can eat. Lots of liquid.

Alan is back home with Michael, outside the static home, blindfolded:

Alan: Are we nearly there?
Michael: Move forward. Keep moving, you’re going in the right direction. That’s it.
Alan: Michael, I’m not the Vietnam! I’m going to take this off.
Michael: No! Leave it. Leave it for a minute.
Alan: Michael, this doesn’t feel like a treat.
Michael: Alright, that way. Take it off, now! There, look. I’ve made you a helicopter landing pad!
Alan: It’s a small H.
Michael: No, man. It’s big, look. You can see that from space, man.
Alan: Michael, I don’t want aliens to see this from space. It will be embarrassing.  They would look down through their giant telescope and say “look at that idiot, he’s got a baby H”.
Michael: I done it, just to cheer you up, like. You know, because, the fireplace job was knackered. Apache productions is probably gonna goon down the pan, like all the other companies that you’ve started.
Alan: Michael, that may wery very well be the case. But I am happy. Now, that may very wery well be because I’m on morphine.
Michael: Morphine? Oh, man. They should have put an M on your foreheed.
Alan: Why?
Michael: That’s what you dee with battlefield casualties. You know, you put an M on their foreheed. So that the doctors know they’ve had morphine, it’s dangerous.
Alan: It’s not so a little helicopter can land on your forehead?
Michael: No, helicopter doesn’t begin with M, does it?
Alan: I’d like that though! I’d like that. Little helicopter landing on your head, rotor blades would cool you down like a little hand fan. On your forehead.
Michael: Come on, you’ve definitely had morphine, haven’t you.
Alan: Yeah. Do you want some Sugar Puffs?
Michael: Aye, that’d be nice. We’ll have Suagr Puffs.
Alan: Ah, still thinking about the helicopters. The little helicopters. Like the beginning of MASH. That begins with an M.

Season 2, Episode 1 – The Talented Mr Alan

Alan is in the studio, presenting Norfolk Nights:

Woman:  Well I enjoyed the Hobbit more than “Riverdance”. And I think that lots of boys on an island killing a fat boy is not so enjoyable as Gandalf, with a long white beard.
Alan: Okay, if you’ve just joined us, we’re talking about who is the best lord. “Lord of the Rings”, “of the Dance” or “of the Flies”. That’s tonight’s “hot topic”.
Okay the votes are closed and clearly “the Rings” and “the Flies” have been roundly trounced by the quick feet of blouse-wearing tycoon Michael Flatley. “Flatley, my dear, I don’t Riverdance… Give a damn.”

It’s 11pm. Time for ‘Alan’s Love Asylum’. It’s basically sex music.
Alan: That was the Corrs – three little birds I think we’d all like to … prey upon, and steal their eggs. I’m off now, time to leave you in the very capable hands of Dave Clifton, who’s going to be with you till 4am with his ‘Nightclub’. What have you got lined up for us Dave?
Dave: Actually its ladies’ night tonight, special night.
Alan: Ooh, maybe a wet t-shirt competition?
Dave: Ooh you never know, could be.
Alan: How does that work on radio?
Dave: You’ve got to use your imagination Alan actually; I tell you what there’s rather a lot of ladies in here tonight. Steady, girls, steady. Ooh, I’m all wet!
Alan: I can hear ‘em, but I can’t see ‘em.
Dave: Yup, that’s because you’re not on…
Alan: I’m off for a mushroom slice at the BP garage
Dave: Oh, get me one chum!

Alan is visiting Michael, who now works in a BP garage:

Alan: Two Flavia frothy cappuccinos, coming right up!
Michael: Ahh, you’re a gentleman.
Alan: Oh look, there’s that idiot in the black Hillman Imp. Is he going to get petrol? No. He’s just using the forecourt to turn round. He thinks he’s Rod Stewart!
Michael: Hey, your road safety video’s doing well.
Alan: What, ‘Crash, Bang, Wallop! What A Video’?
Michael: Aye, we’ve sold three. Better than yer book like.
Alan: Yeah, well unfortunately Michael, we live in a world where people would much rather watch clips of idiots driving cars like maniacs into berks… than a book which has been described as, and I quote ‘lovely stuff’. Not my words, Michael, the words of Shakin’ Stevens.
Michael: You could always reduce the price, like.
Alan: What, again? Mike you’re not pushing them hard enough. Pretend I’m a customer and try and sell me the book. Hello.
Michael: What pump number?
Alan: Um… three. No, no, four. It doesn’t matter, does it?
Michael: No, no.
Alan: Four. No, three, it’s got the paper hand towels, I like three, yeah.
Michael: Would you also like this book?
Alan: What’s it about?
Michael: It’s about this local fella what used to be on television right, but, he wasn’t very good, so now he’s not. He went right down right, and hit rock bottom man, and now he’s on his way back up right, but I mean he’ll never get back to where he was, ‘cause them days is over like, but he’s coming back a bit.
Alan: Well I don’t want to read that, that sounds depressing.
Michael: You just want the petrol then?
Alan: Michael your sales technique is awful. And you’re low on Bodyline Brushable Joint Sealer.
Michael: Oh aye, we are. Captain Partridge, would you look after the fort while I go on a resupply mission?
Alan: You work in a petrol station Michael, it’s not the Gulf War. Which, ironically, it like a large petrol station.

Alan takes over behind the sales counter while Michael goes to the stock room:

Alan: Sorry, I’m not Enya.
Man: Pump number three.
Alan: Good pump. ‘F Raphael’. That’s funny, I used to have a teacher at school called Frank Raphael. Sweaty Raphael we used to call him. Great big sweating stains under his armpits. I’ve just realised it’s you. How the devil are you?
Raphael: Alan Partridge.
Alan: The very same. So what are you up to now?
Raphael: I’m still at the old school, but, well I’m the headmaster now.
Alan: Good call.
Raphael: I remember you. Didn’t you used to be on the television?
Alan: Yeah, I got out of that. Unpleasant people. Bitter Bastards.
Raphael: Yes, in education authorities you find quite a few of those as well.
Alan: Yes, I think every Profession has its… shits. Sorry about the bad language… actually, I don’t have to apologise anymore do I? Big balls! Fanny hair.
Raphael: And a bag of Minstrels.
Alan: Ooh! Yeah, we all sweat don’t we? I mean, I used to sweat like a zoo. And I do mean the smell as well, ‘cause although you sweated, you didn’t smell. That was another teacher, that was Kacky Raphael. That’s you as well. Shoot me in the head with a massive gun! I remember you once caned me for having a chalk penis drawn on the back of my blazer.
Raphael: Well, that was a long time ago Alan.
Alan: Well that’s what Nazi war criminals say.
Raphael: Funny, I bumped into another old boy recently, Tony Spillane. He came and gave a talk to our sixth formers.
Alan: Hm. You realise that there was no way I could have drawn a chalk penis on my back. Ask yourself two questions, how and why?
Raphael: Well, urm, lovely to see you again Alan.
Alan: I could give a talk to the pupils.
Raphael: Well if we need someone to talk to the boys and girls about working in a petrol station, I’ll be onto you.
Alan: Do you think I work in a petrol station?
Raphael: Well, I just paid you for petrol and a packet of Minstrels.
Alan: No, this is the man that runs the place. Well, he doesn’t run it, he’s the work Geordie. I’m not at his level. He’s always been at this level.
Michael: Aye, ‘cause when I was in the army, I…
Alan: Whatever. I’m doing much better than him. I left the BBC, formed a production company. That went into liquidation, voluntarily. Then I was out of work for two years, I was clinically fed up, boo-hoo…
Raphael: Why do I need to know all this?
Alan: Because I’ve bounced back. People bounce back. Dennis Hopper, Rolf Harris… there are others.
Raphael: Can I get to my car?
Alan: It’s not going to drive off by itself. It’s not Herbie. The point is, I now have the third best slot on Radio Norwich, I have a military-based quiz show on cable television called “Skirmish”, and I’ve got a girlfriend. And I think your pupils are gonna want to know about that.
Raphael: Absolutely, I’ll be in touch.
Alan: If we set it up now, then Michael can press the button to let you go.
Michael: Would you like this book in a bag?
Alan: Not now Michael.
Raphael: Alright then, why don’t you come and give a talk on Wednesday evening?
Alan: Michael, release the headmaster.

Alan is back home and discusses his day ahead with Lynn:

Alan: Hello Lynn, would you like a coffee? Coffee Machines are the future, Lynn. Kettles are sad. Okay Lynn, what do you think of the polo neck? Balls out of the bath on this one.
Lynn: I think it’s rather snazzy.
Alan: I think your hair’s snazzy. Is that your mother’s money coming through?
Lynn: Yes.
Alan: All part of the bereavement dividend.
Lynn: I had to change her sheets everyday for ten years.
Alan: Yeah, I don’t know how you managed it. I mean, she was a bit of a heffalump, God rest her soul. She was a big woman. I’m tempted to say she was big-hearted, but that would be bullshit. Okay Lynn, make for the banquette. Thanks for changing the gas bottle. I heard you clinking. Okay, what have you got for me? Shoot from your hip – your new hip.
Lynn: You’ve got a 1 o’clock meeting with Siobhan from Meteor Productions to talk about “Crash, Bang, Wallop! What A Video 2”. Do you need me to be there?
Alan: I don’t need you anywhere. I’d like you to be there. Your problem with Meteor Productions Lynn, is that you don’t like them because they make wet t-shirt videos. It’s not hardcore super sex. If you had taken the trouble to watch “Boob Olympics”’, as I have, then you’ve realise there is a competitive element.
Lynn: If it makes you happy.
Alan: Lynn, the money that pays for the black granite work surfaces in the kitchen, the brass dimmer switches, your eight grand a year… all comes from Meteor. Who happen to produce “Boob Olympics”, “The Eurovision Thong Contest”, and “Wet Christmas”.

Alan goes and checks on the builders in his new house:

Alan: Alright guys, see the match?
Carl: Which once?
Alan: Dunno.
Builder: How’s it going Mr. Partridge?
Alan: yeah, cool, cool.
Builder: You see what I done in the toilet?
Alan: How do you mean?
Builder: Well I retiled it.
Alan: Oh right..
Carl: I tell you what mate, we’ve got something for you… Stick this on. [hands him a hard hat with ‘BOSS’ written on the front]
Alan: Although it is amusing, there is a serious reason why I’m wearing this Lynn. Insurance. And no offence Lynn-
Lynn: Oh none taken.
Alan: You don’t know what I’m going to say yet. Wait till I’ve said what I’m going to say before you decide not to take offence. You see, no offence Lynn, but your life is technically not worth insuring.
Builder: Can we talk about the office area?
Alan: Okay, alright, yeah, ‘cause I was gonna say that I’d like it to double as a chill-out room.
Builder: I didn’t think you were a raver.
Alan: I’m not a raver, I’m straight. I’ve got a girlfriend. She’s only 33. Cashback. Between you and me, there are things I do with Sonja that I would never have done with my ex-wife Carol. Occasionally, I dost venture south. And when I go south, I gotta say, it’s like a breath of fresh air. But two years ago I was a mess. I put on weight, I had breasts
Carl: I bet they were the only ones you copped hold of weren’t they as well!
Alan:  They were actually, yeah, I was repellent to women for two years. Running along jogging with my breasts with tassels. You can make them go that way, you can make them go that way, but you can’t make them go that way. Imagine dreaming about that and waking up screaming, ‘cause that’s what happened.

Sonja: Hi Alan, hello Lynn, hello the builders.
Alan:  Watch, see, she’s not stopping me.
Sonja: Brilliant story to tell. Last day I was in the coffee shop where I work, and then a man came in and said he wanted coffee. He was smelly man. Tomek did not like him. Tomek said we didn’t have any coffee. And then the man just went!
Lynn: I don’t quite understand the joke.
Alan: Drop it, Lynn.
Builder: So it’s a coffee shop, but one man says to another man, “you can’t have a coffee”
Alan: That is the story, believe me.
Builder: Yeah but it don’t make sense, does it? ‘Cause I mean you got a man coming in for a coffee..
Alan: Help me out, mate.
Builder: Very funny story.
Alan: Yes, it is a funny story. I think those stories are kinda best in the caravan.
Sonja: I have a question for builder.
Alan: Why don’t we go in there now? Grab her, Lynn.
Alan: Guess which one of you two ladies I’m going to make love with now.
Lynn: I’ll just on up to the club and meet that video woman.
Alan: See you later. Come on Sonja, let’s be appalling. Oh, Lynn, I reckon 40, 45 minutes, how long?
Lynn: About that.
Alan: Actually better make it an hour. I want to have a shower before and ideally, afterwards.
Alan is at Chorister to discuss relasing a new video with Siobhan from Meteor:
Alan: Hi! [Gives Siobhan a kiss, Lynn stands up for a kiss] Stay down! Sorry I’m late, had to have a shower. Got a bit clammy. Yeaaah.
Siobhan: So, how’ve you been Alan?
Alan: Ruddy bloody good, actually.
Lynn: Yes, his panic attacks have all but stopped!
Alan: Thanks Lynn.
Boy: Mum, I want my GameBoy.
Alan to a woman with her child: Hello. Excuse me, what’s his name?
Mother: It’s Todd.
Alan: What, Todd? Seriously? Hello Todd. Snazzy jeans you’ve got on there.
Todd: Thank you.
Alan: You’re welcome.
Alan to waiter: Correct me if I’m wrong, there is a zero tolerance policy on denim in the bar.
Waiter: Yes.
Alan to waiter: I think there’s a chap over there wearing jeans. Chap of bout six.
Alan to Siobhan: They’re lovely at that age, aren’t they?
Alan to Woman: Did they get you on the old jeans rule? Nazis! But with excellent facilities… as had the Nazis.
Siobhan: Ok, shall we get started?
Alan: Yes, I have a thought. Now because the last video was called “Crash, Bang, Wallop! What A Video”, and this video will feature helicopters pursuing these bad prats across fields, I thought perhaps a better title would be “Scum On The Run”.
Siobhan: You all right Lynn?
Alan: Lynn doesn’t like the old watersports.
Siobhan: We don’t do that.
Alan: The wet t-shirt things.
Siobhan: Well that’s not watersports, Alan.
Alan: Well, whats watersports?
Siobhan: You don’t know?
Alan: No I don’t.
Siobhan: You mean you don’t know what watersports are?
Alan: I believe we’ve established that. Tell me what you mean by ‘watersports’.
Siobhan: Well, it’s when people relieve themselves on each other.
Alan: Did you know that there are no Dutch elms left in Britain? Completely wiped out. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.
Lynn: Perhaps those people were caught short.
Alan: They do it on purpose Lynn! Well that’s the small talk over with. Let’s go with the thorny issue of the fee.
Siobhan: No, there’s no negotiation about the fee.
Alan: Siobhan, when you hire me, you don’t just get some guy who used to be on TV presenting a cheap video. You do get that, but you also get my voice. Let me remind you… “Britain has some of the safest roads in Europe, but this isn’t Britain. This is the Autobahn.” I bring an element of humour.
Siobhan: Alan, I’m sorry I just can’t move on the fee. Now you know we love your work.
Alan: I know, and I love your videos of women in bikinis being hosed down in car parks.
Siobhan: Well it’s a little bit more tasteful than that Alan.
Alan: It’s called ‘Titsnade Zoo’.
Siobhan: Alan, I am not negotiating.
Alan: You may not be but I am.
Siobhan: Well then you’ll be negotiating on your own.
Alan: So be it.
Siobhan: That doesn’t work. Lovely to see you, Lynn.
Alan: I don’t know why you don’t just go the whole hog and have me chased down the street by a helicopter in wet underpants? I mean me, not the helicopter. Although I wouldn’t put that past you, some sicko would probably buy that! A big helicopter in giant underpants! Or a plane in a giant bra having a slash on an airport.

Alan: Why did you say I had panic attacks? You made it sound like I had a breakdown.
Lynn: You did. You drove up to Dundee in bare feet.
Alan: Lynn! I know what really happened. You make me sound mad now. Say I didn’t have a breakdown.
Lynn: You didn’t have a breakdown.
Alan: I know.

Alan and Lynn are in Alan’s car:

Alan: Okay, lets go and get a couple of Soleros, I need to get my head together.
Lynn: There goes Siobhan.
Alan: I’m going to box her in at the squash court and drop my price! [Starts to drive off but crashes]  I’m alright, your airbag went off, why didn’t mine Lynn?
Lynn: I can’t move my head! It’s just not going! Can you see, I’m trying-
Alan:  Calm down Lynn!
Lynn: It’s just not moving, I need you to understand!
Alan: Calm Down! Air! Air! Air! Calm down Lynn! You’re suffering from minor women’s whiplash. It’s normal. Your air bag’s deployed. Mine hasn’t.
Lynn: Well you haven’t got whiplash.
Alan: I know. I know I haven’t got whiplash because my head was in contact with the headrest in the correct way, you were leaning forwards with your handbag like that, crashing like a mouse.
Siobhan: Are you all right?
Lynn: I’ve just got minor whiplash.
Alan: It was me that told her that.
Siobhan: You need to take her to a hospital Alan.
Alan: I know I know, in fact this has all put things in perspective, so that I will now do the video for the same amount as last time to help Lynn.
Siobhan: Alan I think you should be taking her to hospital and we’ll chat about that later.
Alan: By the way, this was probably caught on CCTV camera. And I will throw the footage in gratis. I know it’s only a minor collision, but you can start off with a small collision like this, then build to a big one, with like a huge lorry sliding along on it’s back for ages, y’know I’ll take my top off… I’m babbling.

Alan to Lynn: It’s weird isn’t it, this air bag. All that powder on your face, you look like a clown. Don’t smile, you’ve broken your neck!

Alan is at the school to have a talk with the kids:

Raphael: If there’s anything you need, just let me know Alan. Or you, Mrs Partridge.
Alan: She’s not my wife! I hate it when that happens. Lynn, could you pop to the shops and get me… two packets of Toffos?
Phil: I didn’t know you were in the building. Phil Wiley. We were at school together.
Alan: Yes, you were in my class.
Phil: Alison Partridge!
Alan: No, Alan.
Phil: No, Alison’s what we used to call you.
Alan: I didn’t know that. So what are you going hanging round a school? Bit weird isn’t it?
Phil: I’m one of the big boys now, Alan.
Alan: What, a prefect?
Phil: No, I teach here.
Alan: Oh right, I see.
Phil: I’ve just remembered. Remember the day you caught me in that darkroom snogging that lab assistant, eh? What on Earth were you doing there?
Alan: Developing photographs, ‘cause that’s what it was for.
Phil: It was the day you got caned, remember that?
Alan: Yeah, I remember, I got a chalk penis drawn on my back by some shit. I’d love to get my hands on him.
Phil: That was me.
Alan: I know it was. But I really admire you teachers. You’re very heroic to do what you do for such rubbish money. Tell me, exactly how much do you teachers earn?
Phil: You’d be surprised. I’m earning more than you think Alan, I’m head of modern languages. Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten!
Alan: Yeah. I’ve got a girlfriend.
Phil: I’ve got a wife.
Alan: Is she older than you or younger than you?
Phil: Well if you must know Alan, she’s older than me. She’s 52.
Alan: My girlfriend’s 33. I’m 47. She’s 14 years younger than me. Back of the net!
Phil: Well if I can just put you in the room and get the kids.
Alan: Don’t draw a cock!
Alan: Hi kids, it’s great to be back in my fine old school. I nearly sent my son Fernando here, but I came into some money, and was able to educate him privately. You can’t muck about when it comes to your own kids. Let me tell you a bit about myself. I present a military-based quiz show on a daytime digital channel called UK Conquest. It’s got 8,000 viewers. To put that in perspective, it’s eleven times the population of Hemsby. Basically, terrestrial TV is a dead duck, and who watches a dead duck? Not even its mother. She just flies off depressed. I want to show you an example now of the kind of sell through video that I make. By the way there are some strobe effects in this, so please, any epileptics get out now. Because statistically, one of you is, and two of you are gay. By the way guys, if you are gay, please remember… rubber up. At your age it’s still illegal. You don’t want to end up in prison. Because some of those guys don’t care how old you are, or if you’re gay. This was filmed two years ago, and I have let myself go a little.
Alan: Crash! Bang! Wallop! What a video! Hi, I’m Alan Partridge, and I drive a car, but not like this.
Alan: Let’s have a look at what this idiot did… in America.
Alan: Thankfully, that man was plastic. You can stop giggling, or I’ll take down your particulars. But what if he hadn’t been… plastic?
Raphael: I’d like to thank Alan for a very interesting talk. Are there any questions.
Alan: You know this guy, he caned me for drawing a chalk penis on my back, which I couldn’t possibly do.
Raphael: We’ll be having coffee next door now Alan.
Alan: I’ll show you, it’s impossible, for me to draw, watch. See?
Phil: But you’ve more or less managed it Alan.
Alan: The one did had more detail. There were hairs at the base, and a dotted line emanating from the crown. I’ll tell you something about this guy, he got the lab assistant pregnant. He never sees the kid. Back of the net.

Raphael: That was an appalling thing to say, you’ve placed me in a rather invidious position.
Alan: Don’t know that word. Carry on.
Raphael: You leave this school again and we’re left with the detritus.
Alan: Knock it off with the fancy words mate. Say it like it is, it went tits up. Y’know, you speak like you’re from the 19^th century. And you sweat.
Raphael: I’d like to see you sweat over your work like I do over mine.
Alan: I don’t, because I use Lynx Africa. Gonna cane me?
Raphael: No, but I might throw a chair at you.
Alan: It’s still corporal punishment. See you in Strasbourg.

Alan has popped in to see Michael at the garage before he does his show:

Alan: On tonight’s show we’re talking about coffee.
Michael: Oh, really?
Alan: Yeah, apparently they’re opening a Starbucks on Beachy Head.
Michael: Oooh, nice, y’know, have a cup of coffee, admire the view, put a spring in your step.
Alan: A spring in your step’s the last thing you need on a cliff top. It’s a suicide hot spot.
Michael: What, Starbucks?
Alan: How are you going to kill yourself in Starbucks?
Michael: Shotgun in your mouth?
Lynn: Alan, there’s that teacher chap.
Alan: Michael, if he hits me, will you hit him first?
Michael: No, he’s a customer. I cannot hit customers. I’ve been told. I’ll go and get some stock.
Alan: Yeah, chicken stock.
Phil: Hello Alan.
Alan: Lynn, hand me an apple pie. And remove yourself from the theatre of conflict.
Lynn: What do you mean?
Alan: Go and stand by the yakults. The temperature inside this apple turnover is 1,000 degrees. If I squeeze it, a jet of molten Bramley apple is going to squirt out. Could go your way, could go mine. Either way, one of us is going down.
Phil: Alan, I’ve just come to make peace.
Alan: What, you’re not going to kick my head in?
Phil: No, I’m not. I just think we should shake hands y’know.
Alan: You’ve not go one of those…
Phil: Electric buzzer? No I haven’t.
Alan: Ahh! You’re all right you!
Alan: Arrgh! Jesus! How long did you put this in for Lynn?
Lynn: Eight minutes.
Alan: It’s hotter than the sun!
Phil: Ok, Alan, I’m gonna go now, no hard feelings alright?
Alan: Yeah, ok. Help yourself to a honeycomb Yorkie for the glovebox.
Phil: Yeah? Alright, I will. Take care, ok.
Alan: Lynn, that is not a penis.
Lynn: It’s the best I could do.
Alan: It tapers at the end. It looks like a mouse’s head.
Michael: Hey look, Mr Partridge. That bloke’s just told him.
Phil: Open the door! Open it!
Alan: According to Michael there are enough supplies in here to last three weeks. Want a Mars bar? Swivel. If you came in here for a Twix, I’d stick one in your eye, one in your ear and one up your bum. But I’d have to break into another packet and I’m not prepared to do that. I’d have to use a four-fingered one and save one for myself at the end. Having washed my hands. Having said that, I’ve just remembered that I’ve got a radio show to do, so erm, let’s make friends and then I can be on my way, please. If you let me go, I will give you £200 in cash, or a check for £230. I imagine that’s a month’s wages for someone like you. Hello?