Nigel Farage Gets His Life Back

This programme contains strong language.

In the referendum campaign, I said I want my country back.

What I'm saying today is I want my life back.

And it begins right now. Thank you.

What will you do next, Nigel?

I'm looking forward to spending some more time at home with my family.

Although I do need to quickly pop back to the office.

The real office. The pub.

HE CHUCKLES

My office is the pub. Come on.

-JOURNALISTS:

-Nigel! Nigel!

Yeah. Come through.

Mind your step, mind your step.

I think that went rather well, don't you?

I think it was really good. Yeah.

Something to eat? Or have you got to rush off?

-Hello.

-Hello. Lovely to be back.

Thank you very much.

Yeah, have a good day. My pleasure. Thank you very much.

Thank you for voting. Thank you very much.

HE CHUCKLES

Pint of Crusader to kick off with, please, Colin.

Half a litre of the commotion lotion coming right up.

Litre! He's always winding me up, Colin.

But he's a proper landlord.

-Ukip. Decent bloke.

-Welcome back, Nigel.

Oh, and this one's on the house, to say thank you.

No, no, Colin. I want to pay for this one.

And I'll tell you for why. I need to apologise.

Now that I've left politics,

Nigel Farage's local is not going to be full of Westminster journalists ordering tonic water.

I hope your cash register can forgive me,

but rest assured I'll do what I can to make up for it.

Be nice now. You can let your guard down.

My guard was never up, Colin.

When they built Nigel Farage, they forgot to put a guard in.

Not everybody likes it, but evidently some people do.

Approximately 17.5 million of them.

It's great to have you back, Nige.

What are you going to do now?

What, immediately? Well, I've got a bloody meeting with a chap outside.

Line me up an Agincourt. But don't worry, the meeting's not for work.

The meeting's with a Mr Rothman's.

HE CHUCKLES

-Cheers.

-Cheers.

-Hello, Tony.

So, what will I do now?

Allow me to just check the old Blackberry.

HE CHUCKLES

Sweet Fanny Adams for the time being.

HE CHUCKLES

And do you know...? No...

It's the most bloody wonderful feeling.

I mean, what's the point in getting your country back

if you can't enjoy it? It's...

-Excuse me.

-Oh... The dreaded selfie.

No problem at all. Let me just hide my cigarette.

-I just meant excuse me.

-Oh, right.

-You got it?

-Cheers.

-Great.

Morning, all!

The drawbridge to Chateau Farage.

Hold on.

Did have my...

No.

HE RINGS DOORBELL

Of course. She's not here.

Mrs F's decided to go from part-time to full-time in the City.

I'm giving away my secrets here, aren't I?

HE SNIGGERS

Wait here. Wait here. Wait there.

HE GROANS

Oh, for God's sake.

HE GRUNTS

CRASHING

Oh, God.

Oh!

Jesus.

It's all right. It's all right. It's all right.

OK, come through, come through. Watch your step.

Come through.

It's the living room.

Dining room. Now, watch your step, watch your step there.

This is my real office.

Which also doubles up as my man cave.

HE SNIGGERS

It's the only workplace in Britain were smoking is not only permitted,

it's bloody well compulsory.

HE LAUGHS

I don't know...

Come round, look.

Look.

Boo!

HE LAUGHS

Still working, that's good.

What have we got here?

This is me and my old senior adviser, Raheem Kassam.

He is a great mind, Raheem.

Ah, the pickle kippers. The Ukip cricket team.

Do you know, they wouldn't let us play in the Parliamentary league

because we didn't have any MPs.

Yet another example of the establishment

keeping out the little guy.

Yeah. Now that I've got a bit of time to myself,

it's a chance to get the old village team up and running again.

I've beaten Brussels, but now I fancy a stiffer challenge.

Pitching our little village team against the giants of Orpington's first XI.

HE LAUGHS

Someone who knows these slippery buggers has to make sure

that Brexit really does mean Brexit.

You might think that Eurocrats take the biscuit.

In my experience,

they take the entire Huntley and Palmers luxury tea-time selection.

But seriously, I've given my life to the service of this country.

I have not and will never turn my back on it.

And as and when the call comes from some Whitehall mandarin,

I will hear them out.

PHONE RINGS

Farage.

Well, who would I be working with?

Natalie? Well, I'm led to believe she's very experienced.

But I don't think Strictly Come Dancing is for me.

That is, unless, of course, you fancy popping a cheeky zero on the end of that fee.

No, I don't think Strictly Come Dancing is for me.

Oh, is he indeed?

Well, you tell Mr Balls he's just lost your programme one viewer.

All right. Cheerio.

I mean, Ed Balls might have nothing to do these days,

but realistically, I'm just not going to have the time.

Absolutely. I promise.

Yeah.

Hand on heart.

OK. Bye, darling.

That the missus? Got your orders then?

She's made me promise categorically that I won't be home until at least ten.

Has she got a book group this evening?

No.

Well, I for one am very happy to be seeing so much more of you.

Ukip were bonkers to get rid of you.

Point of order, Colin. Nobody got rid of me.

I resigned to get my life back.

You can always un-resign, like you did last time.

Is it me or it is the Task Force a bit lively tonight?

-Maybe change the barrel.

-Yeah, I'll check the pipes.

# Meet the gang, cos the boys are here, the boys to entertain you. #

-WINDSOR DAVIES:

-Why do they have to do everything dressed up as tarts for?

FARAGE LAUGHS

..For a professional soldier like me to be in charge of this bunch of poofs.

They simply wouldn't let you say that nowadays.

Oh, look.

This is almost the last thing I ever saw.

Part of the wing of a PZL Wilga utility aircraft,

which went up-diddly-up just fine,

but down-diddly-down a little bit more vertically than I would have preferred.

Fortunately, the plane came out a little bit worse off than I did.

Punctured lung, one.

Fractured vertebrae, two.

Broken ribs, however many ribs I've got.

But I was alive. And I had a moment of absolute clarity.

I knew what I needed to do.

Have a bloody cigarette.

HE SNIGGERS

After a couple of drags, I remembered I was absolutely drenched in aviation fuel.

It's the one and only time in my entire life where I thought, "Yes,

"maybe smoking this cigarette IS bad for my health."

HE SNIGGERS

Need to frame that.

Nearest seller of linseed oil - 34 miles.

And not from the sports shop.

It's now categorised as a health food for the princely sum of £18.

-And 5p.

-You're Nigel Farage.

I wish I could vote for you as Prime Minister.

You're a decent man.

Well, if you say so. I'm not going to argue with you.

But I am rather enjoying having a bit of time to myself.

I voted Leave, Nigel, and I bet you'd make sure they did leave.

You'd get the Army to put them on boats, but I'd start with...

No, no, no, no.

Let's just be clear. The Leave campaign wasn't about that.

It was about taking back control.

-You see...

-I know what you mean, Nigel.

Yes, I know you're in a meeting, dear.

Yes, it IS important.

Have you been doing my jigsaw?

It's just, I don't remember doing all these trees.

I don't know.

Two bottles?

Point taken. What time will you be back?

Fine.

Well, I guess I'll just get Colin to rustle me up a pie...

Simpson's Tavern. London's oldest surviving chop house.

In my stockbroking days,

we'd arrive at work every morning and work bloody hard right up until

the stroke of 12, when it was time for a PFL.

A proper fucking lunch.

HE LAUGHS

Come in.

-Hello.

-Afternoon.

And what's the name, please?

Farage.

It's just there. Yeah.

It's OK, I can see it. Thank you.

-Nigel.

-Hello.

-How are you?

-Very good, very good.

Something to drink?

As questions go, that's a little bit like enquiring after the religious affiliation of

the man with the pointy hat who works at the Vatican.

HE CHUCKLES

I'll have a G&T, large G&T, please.

Sparkling water, please.

You don't have to say that because they're here.

I know.

Good, good, good. Good, good, good.

That was the same week that Godfrey, thumb in bum, brain in neutral,

went and got himself caught on tape saying "Bongo Bongo Land".

I mean, not the kind of words you would want to read in the headlines.

But I've always said that Bongo Bongo Land would make

a marvellous name for a lap-dancing club.

HE LAUGHS

Goodness me, you're quiet, aren't you?

So, come on, what's the gossip?

Who are the monkeys going to choose as their new organ grinder?

Actually, Nigel,

I was just hoping that you'd managed to sign over those last few

-bits and bobs for the NEC.

-Yes, yes, I have, I have.

And as a gift, I've bound them in some genuine Brussels red tape.

HE CHUCKLES

Excuse me, poppet. We'll share a stewed cheese to start.

Trust me. And I'll have the Edwardian chump chop, well done,

-with a sausage.

-I'll have the roasted field mushrooms, please.

Field mushrooms? When did you start serving field mushrooms?

You're not a bloody vegetarian, are you?

I mean, it's fine if you are.

No, I just like the look of the mushrooms.

Mind officially blown.

HE CHUCKLES

And a bottle of Chateau de Lugagnac, please.

Yes, that sounds fine.

Oh, she does drink then?

Better make it two. HE CHUCKLES

A car crash couldn't beat me.

A plane crash couldn't beat me.

Bloody cancer couldn't beat me.

And the nastiest thing of all, Robert Kilroy-Silk,

couldn't beat me.

I'll tell you how you deal with someone like Kilroy-Silk...

Actually, Nigel, I've got a 2.30, so...

Who the bloody hell books an appointment after lunch?

It's with the new digital comms guys.

What?!

Thank you.

Well, it was great to see you, Nigel.

-Yes, you too.

-Thanks for these, and we'll do it again soon.

Absolutely.

< Farage, you're a legend!

Thank you.

< Prick!

Let me save you a bit of time. We don't have any pets,

which I would have thought is something of a requirement

for involvement in Celebrity Pet Boot Camp.

No, no.

I do not want to be teamed up with a bulldog.

Well, that is, unless, of course, you fancy popping a cheeky zero on the end of that fee. You don't?

Right, listen, Tom, I've turned down big shows.

Strictly, the Bake Off, the jungle one where they eat balls, so I don't...

Oh, it's a big show, is it?

Well, well,

I don't think you can put the word celebrity in the title of your

programme, because given the list of names you faxed me,

the only one I've ever heard of is Eddie Large.

And as far as I know,

he hasn't been on television for over a quarter of a century.

Apology accepted.

All right.

Cheerio, Tom.

I mean, they're not going to get anyone decent on that show.

Not for that money. I mean,

what sort of a name is Plan B?

I'll start with a pint of Goose Green, please, Colin.

Sorry, mate, do I know you?

Very amusing. You've noticed the old soup strainer.

Will Mildred be joining you tonight, George?

It's actually a dry run for a little thing called Movember.

I'm sure, given my personal history, Colin,

you can understand why a testicular cancer charity have asked me

to show my support.

Sorry, Nige, not a time for banter.

Apology accepted.

-Goose Green?

-Yeah.

Did you come here in your helicopter?

Thought Magnum PI had walked into my little shop.

Hawaii is a long way away.

Cancer.

And I've got a poster I was hoping you might...

-Of course, Nigel. You can put it in the window.

-Thank you.

-Is it one of your racist ones?

No, Pat. It's for a new cricket team.

I know what you're talking about.

That poster wasn't racist either.

It was simply drawing attention to the fact...

Nigel, it's fine. I'll get you some Blu-Tack.

Thank you.

What is racism anyway?

You expect this from the BBC and Fleet Street,

but I never thought I'd see it in the North King Chronicle.

It doesn't bother me. It's tomorrow's chip paper.

But people read this.

And all they remember, yet again,

is the word Farage next to the words race row.

It's all bloody lefties, isn't it, Nige?

And nobody spoke to me about it or indeed anyone else from the cricket team.

You know, in my conversations with Waheed,

I never once mentioned the colour of his skin.

I simply said that part of the point of the bloody game was having a few

pints afterwards, that it was a shame that his faith prevented him from joining us.

Absolutely nothing to do with race.

Just ask Chaturanga, he was there.

You know, and as for this John Dennis,

I mean, he just signed up on the church notice board.

I don't know him from Adam.

How was I supposed to know he was in the bloody BNP?

You can't win, Nige.

Another pint of White Cliffs?

Put another half in there.

You know, in the 2010 election,

we even stated in all of our literature, Ukip is a non-racist political party.

-Non.

-Non.

And even that didn't draw a line under it.

You know, I mean, they poke around until they dredge up some Ukip campaigner

from Rochester who has been photographed with a Britain First candidate.

-I thought he was in the English Defence League.

-That was in Uxbridge.

-Are you sure?

-Wasn't Uxbridge the National Front guy?

-Thanet South.

-No, I'm thinking of the BNP thing in Aldershot.

And then they claim Ukip is a movement built from the support of

the extreme right. But I'm proud of the fact that Ukip has reached out

to the people on the fringes of explicitly racist politics and welcomed them into a party

-which couldn't have made it any clearer we are non-racist.

-Non.

-Non.

PHONE RINGS

Farage.

Really? Sorry, one moment, please.

Sorry, could you close the door, please?

Yeah. Thank you.

Sorry about that. Yes.

Erm...

Tomorrow?

Erm...

Well, I think I could.

I could move some things around.

Absolutely.

Well, how exciting.

OK.

OK. Thank you very much.

Goodbye.

Right.

Don't ask. I can't tell you who that was.

Well, I'd better go and pack.

OK.

-DONALD TRUMP:

-Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Nigel Farage.

CROWD CHEERS

'And remember, anything is possible if enough decent people

'are prepared to stand up against the establishment.

'Thank you very much indeed.'

CROWD CHEERS

Morning!

Or should I say "Howdy"?

HE CHUCKLES

Did you miss me?

Now, obviously I'm not claiming that Nigel Farage is going to tip

the balance of the US presidential election, but...

yeah, if I've done anything to keep another neoliberal out of

the White House then it was worth flying across the pond for.

-How long is the fight?

-It's about 12.5 hours, but...

Trump's people flew me first class.

Same as when we went on our holidays to the Grand Canyon.

Played havoc with Maureen's back.

Yeah, well, I wasn't on holiday, Colin.

I actually did a couple of broadcast interviews. One for Fox, one...

We go to New England now. We've got a kind of time-share in Vermont.

Maureen loves the crab.

Can I have a couple of packets of pork scratchings, please, Colin,

and another pint of Magna Carta?

Free with a bottle of Kentucky rye at the airport.

Just a bit of fun.

Oh, you'll love this.

Do you remember the delicious trouble

I got into with Van Rompuy?

Well, they turned it into a tea towel.

HE CHUCKLES

And it made the party a lot of money.

Very popular. Yeah.

Rubbish as a tea towel, though. The ink inhibits the absorbency.

Traditional stewed cheese.

Right, what do we need? "Ye yolk of an egg."

OK. Eggs, eggs, eggs.

Eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs.

Oh, come on, where are you, eggs?

Come on. Eggs, eggs.

No, no, no, no, definitely not.

No, condiments.

Erm...

Jugs. No.

No. No. No. No.

Maybe, maybe we don't have any eggs.

Oh, fridge, fridge. Fridge.

Eggs.

"Melt ye lump of butter on the bottom of a pewter plate."

Well, I think a simple frying pan will have to suffice.

One lump, so it's roughly a lump.

Cheese.

"And stew it on a chafing dish of coals."

HE CHUCKLES

That might be a little bit too traditional, even for Nigel Farage.

HE CHUCKLES

OK.

Perfect. Oh, shit.

I've burnt it, I've burnt the butter. It's burnt.

OK, yeah, crisis averted.

For the time being. Here we go.

Round two.

SMOKE ALARM BEEPING

This is why I turned down Celebrity MasterChef.

Now, I wouldn't have enjoyed it anyway.

Wallace, I'm sure I'd rub along well with,

but I do have my doubts about Torode.

S-T-E-W-E-D cheese.

English not the first language.

Well, yes, there IS such a thing.

And you CAN get it, because I've had it for lunch many times

in a London chop house.

Apology accepted.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

I want a proper meal.

Lamb cutlets? New potatoes?

Great. Yes, the name's Nigel Foster.

Just to be on the safe side.

There's a lot of loonies out there.

DOORBELL RINGS

Lamb cutlets, new potatoes.

Thank you. Thank you.

What's your name?

Kazimierz, or Kaz is easier to say.

Well, thank you, Kazimierz, and here's something for you.

-Thank you. Thank you.

-How did you get here?

Was it A223, or...?

-Yeah.

-OK, great, great.

-What part of Poland are you from?

-From the city of Lublin.

Ah, Lublin, spent three nights there in 1998.

Absolutely breathtaking architecture.

-See you later.

-Do you have any family here?

I have wife. She's nurse.

Good, good, one of the good ones.

Hardest bloody job in the world.

Thank you, Mr Foster, Bye.

You're very welcome. Hope you stay busy.

See?

'We are going to show you the names of five battles of the English Civil War,

'but we have removed alternate letters. Can you fill in the gaps, please?'

-It's Naseby.

-'Well, it's not Hastings cos of the B...'

-It's Naseby.

-'Worth having a guess.'

It's bloody Naseby! Oh, for crying out loud.

'I think we'll pass.'

'Other names you could have said, Leanne Wood,

'Natalie Bennett and of course Nigel Farage.'

Never quite sure it's "Nigel Farage" or "Nigel Farridge".

-Farage, Richard.

-I guess we don't need to know now.

Fuck you, Osman.

I delivered the biggest political revolution in modern history.

What have you ever done?

You just sit there with your laptop, you big...tree.

F-A-R-A-G-E.

Yes, he does. No, in fact, Mr Trump said I could call him at any time.

Yes, I CAN hold for the next President of the United States.

OK, poppet.

Yes, I'm still here.

No apology necessary.

Thank you, Colin.

Listen, Nige, the fete on Saturday.

Jan Leeming's double-booked...

Ssh! No, I'm still here.

-Sorry, Nige, do you mind?

-Yep.

Are you still there, miss?

No, no, I'll call back tomorrow.

Yep, same time.

You have a nice day, too.

Bye.

-I'll just get my charger.

-Of course.

-Do you want me to get you a cab?

-No, no, I could do with a walk.

So, I said, "You're a liar and a thief and a petty, self-serving bureaucrat.

"And everybody here knows it.

"The whole system simply doesn't work.

"You go away, check your facts, the time on the card says 10:53.

"I know for a fact that I was in at the time.

"The sign at the front door clearly says ring both doorbells.

"Now, if you hand over my history of the Battle of Verdun, we'll say no more about it."

Is it a good read, Nige?

Oh, well, I don't know, Colin.

Because, and you'll love this,

apparently, a British passport is not sufficient proof

-that the package is for me.

-Jobsworths.

That's when I called him a lobotomised wombat.

And that is when the defecation really hit the ventilation.

THEY LAUGH

Because you'll be waiting a very long time for Nigel Farage to apologise

for speaking the truth. Case in point, immigrants with HIV.

-You see...

-You're not wrong there, Nige.

Yeah, immigrants with HIV, and I WILL talk about immigrants with HIV,

-because it's a simple fact.

-I hear you, Nige,

but maybe let's save those facts for later.

Fair enough. It's your pub.

It was the same in my book.

When I said the European Commission was like a date rapist,

the editor said, "Don't say rapist."

The proof-reader said, "Don't say rapist".

My literary agent said, "Nigel, please, don't say rapist."

Nigel, it's seven o'clock.

It was just a metaphor.

No matter how many times you say no,

Europe simply won't take no for an answer.

-Just like a rapist.

-It's family steak night.

Sure.

-TV:

-..Said it was a miracle that no-one was killed.

-Here it comes.

The attack came amid reports of hate crimes having increased by 57% since

-the referendum.

-"Since the referendum." Yeah, thank you,

Biased Broadcasting Corporation.

And are you going to explain to the payers of the television tax

that hate crime now include wolf whistling?

Thought not.

Wolf whistling.

I don't report every hate crime that I've been a victim of,

because quite frankly, there aren't enough hours in the day.

And you know all the names I've been called, Colin.

The C word, the B word, the other C word, the W word.

-That weather girl, she said you looked like a...

-Frog with foetal alcohol syndrome.

Yes, Colin. She did say that.

And I think that's a pretty hateful thing to say.

You know, and I'm constantly trolled online.

You know, vile, vile pictures of me with dogs, cows...

I saw one with a horse.

Yeah, all Photoshopped, I'd like to add.

You know, and some of these pictures are very convincing.

These people are talented as well as sick.

I mean, if they put half that effort into doing something creative,

then the country would be in a much stronger position.

It's kids, innit? God help us if there's a war.

A woman threw a tampon at me once.

HE SIGHS

No.

No. No.

No.

Where is it?

Fucking hell! What's the bloody point?

Do you know what? Once people start plotting and whispering,

then pretty soon the whole thing falls apart, because no-one,

not even me, can keep all these factions happy all of the time.

You know, somebody has to make decisions.

That's what leadership is.

I had to choose who opened the batting, I had to choose who opened the bowling.

And it was my judgment that the person best suited

to do both of those things was me. And I stand by it.

And as for these complaints,

you would have thought of all of the teams,

RAF Biggin Hill could handle a bit of sledging.

I'll repeat what I said to the umpire.

It was just a fucking joke!

Chaturanga laughed.

For Christ's sake!

Come on, Nige, we won.

Can I get you another fucking lime, Waheed?

Can you turn that thing off for five minutes?

Some privacy.

Right, well, I've said my piece.

Now it's time to move forward.

So, Woodsy, you're absent with leave on Saturday for a stag do.

And Paul. And Crispy. And Slonker.

Sorry, is anybody not going to this bloody stag do on Saturday?

Er, Waheed.

Right.

Well, I'm just going to phone Sevenoaks and tell them the game's off.

Great.

You do know this is fucking beneath me, don't you?

I don't need to be doing this.

Hmm?

You know, I've had enough.

When I said I want my country back, my life back, I didn't mean this.

I brought down the establishment and this is the thanks I get.

Collecting subs money and oiling the mower?

Do you know who said it was an honour to introduce me?

Do you know? Do you know?

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump wouldn't second-guess my field settings.

You know what? I quit.

And if anyone wants to stand up here and take over as captain,

I've got three words of advice for you.

Go fuck yourself.

Sorry, I'm afraid the toad-in-the-hole's off.

Oh, turn that off!

So, here I am again.

I did say I'd get my life back.

Turns out it was more of a summer holiday.

Nigel Farage, leader by default.

What could possibly go wrong?

APPLAUSE

Did you enjoy your time off, Nigel?

If I'm honest, this summer was the happiest time of my life.

But are you glad to be back, Nigel?

The box clearly read 2,000 pieces.

Well, I've counted them and there are 1,999.

Yes. Right next to her backside.

Well, when he comes out of his meeting,

would you tell Mr Osman that this is the third time I've called

and if I don't hear back from him, he'll be hearing from Ofcom?

Well, of course they're trying to bloody rig it, Donald.

But listen, if it doesn't work out, here's my thought.

Trump News. And, well, I've got an idea

for a rather provocative English commentator. His name is...