Tracey Breaks the News

Good evening. The last few weeks have been very divisive politically,

but whatever our differences, it is becoming increasingly clear

that nobody is going to get what they want or anywhere near it.

We are united as a nation in political disappointment,

and what could be more British

than a mutual sense of despondency, of let-down?

It is that which brings us together.

Maybe don't quite say that when you get outside.

This news just in:

The muppets don't like uncertainty.

Or a pipeline in the pipeline.

-Let me be clear...

-Off the record.

-How do I put this?

And the answer is...we're out.

# She wants to be like

# She wants to see like

# She wants to walk a mile in their shoes

# Every day a new sensation How to break it to the nation

# Tracey's gonna break the news

# She wants to say this She wants to play this

# She really hopes that nobody sues

# Every day a new sensation Take it to the waking nation

# She's gonna faking well break the news. #

So come on, everybody,

it's quarter past nine and we haven't fixed one single election!

-What have we got?

-Portuguese elections are imminent.

-Who is the worst candidate?

-This guy is nuts.

He literally thinks the Earth goes round the moon.

-Give him 20 million votes.

-That is twice the population of Portugal.

Who gives shit?

And you - you handle British election. You make everybody lose.

Well done. Employee of month.

We have big problem. It's the Melaniabot.

It won't hold his hand, and look, this happened earlier.

Now the smile is malfunctioning. This was last night.

Move your lips, damn it! Come on, smile! Smile!

-Let me. Let me.

-This is now. This is live.

OK, walk. Move hand back.

Take his hand - yes, there.

All right. Keep holding.

Argh! It let go. Take it back! Nyet! Not the handbag!

-Argh!

-She is old now, like Mir space station.

-Best to drop her in the sea.

-Issue the code purple.

Want us to bring Melania in?! We can't!

She's got to pick at a salad in Mar-a-Lago in 12 hours!

You are disobeying me?

You want a Pelonian smooty?

-Nyet, nyet.

-Then go.

Who should be Channel 4 first star baker?

Julian Assange.

On it.

Hey, Bogdan, Bolek. No need to pack up those tools.

-But we must go home now.

-Yes, back to our unspecified slavic country.

Brits vote Brexit vote. No longer want builders from Eastern Europe.

But Brits DO want your professionalism,

and the fact that you do show up roughly the day you say you will,

and now there's a way we can all have our Pierogi and eat it, too.

I'm Denise, and here at my British Building School, I'll teach you

all the traditional skills you'll need to blend in,

even after the hardest of Brexits.

From what to call yourselves...

..to how to dress.

And what to say.

Bloody right we're late - traffic's buggered on ring road!

Cor blimey, what a bodge job. Who wired this up - John Wayne?!

And both together:

-BOTH:

-Phwoarg!

-And the gesture?

Enrol now, and we'll pimp your van for free.

We'll even throw in this heritage builder's radio.

It receives just three stations - football,

racist phone-ins, and medium wave static.

The volume knob? Preset to blasting!

I wish my wife to be dirty like van.

That's it. You nearly got it there, Bolek.

Come to Denise's British Building School.

The course costs just £1,000, or 650 in cash, if you know what I mean.

-BOTH:

-Phwooooarrrr!

That's it, boys!

OK, it is time for the video chatten.

Ah, yeah, you know who I should call? Emmanuel Macron.

Very important German-Franco issues to cover. It's very pressing.

But, Mein Chancellor, you have Skyped him five times this morning.

Well, we have much to discuss,

and his eye for the mature sex machine is of no relevance. None.

You know who you must sprechen ze with,

-and you can't put it off one minuten longer.

-No!

I don't want to talk to Herr Trump!

He hates me and I hate him more,

and not like you see in the romen-kommen

just before they start kissing.

But you must or you know who he will meet with first for the trade talks.

Theresa May - she will stop at nothing to do the leap and frog,

and his hand is not the only thing she is willing to hold.

THEY CHUCKLE

-Ja.

-All right, fire up the Wi-fi. I am ready.

Hey, look, it's the German lady. I met her before, right?

She's like a three, two-and-a-half?

Hello, Angela, I can see you through the computer.

I am very happy to see you, Mr President.

Sure, that's great. And I'm a big fan of Germany.

Can you believe our countries were once at war? So sad.

And if I had been President, it wouldn't have happened.

I would have played golf with Hitler and figured it out.

No war - everyone says that.

Yes, I am sure, Mr President, but I would like to talk about trade.

Good. Pitch it, but keep it short - I got Jared coming in. I like Jared.

Do you like Jared?

-Or did I fire Jared?

-You like Jared, sir.

-Great. I love Jared.

-Jared good.

-Ja. Well, I'd like to talk about agriculture.

-Uh-huh.

We would like amendments concerning regulations 29A and 31C.

You have lost him. Look. He has minimised your window.

You must get him back before he golfs.

-He could start golfing at any moment.

-Where's my clubs?

-Where's my clubs?

-Burgit, it's time for Plan B.

-Are you sure?

Ja. Do it.

HE GARGLES

What do you think of that sound?

-I have brought you strudel, Frau Merkel.

-Ja. Put it here.

SHE COUGHS

Boobies! Tits! Tits!

Pussy!

-What is that? Oh, wow!

-You are back to full screen, thank God.

Who is that? Steve Bannon was right, the Germans really are superior!

This is my special trade envoy, Helga.

Oh, Helga, I would like some more cream on my strudel.

Please will you be squirting the extra cream?

What do you want?

We'll get you a special trade envoy, and you I guess,

over to Washington for big trade talks.

You can stay at the Trump International Hotel.

I'll get you a great deal, full price. You just overtook Britain.

Goodbye.

-Oh, it's over.

-Oh, well done, Mein Chancellorette.

Now as a special treat,

I have organised a five-minute Skype call with Justin Trudeau.

-Oh, you are the besten friend!

-Oh!

Shall I stay for that?

I have a degree in economics from the University of Stuttgart.

Er, no, no. Go, go.

-Oh, but leave the cream.

-Ja, ja.

Leave this cream.

People say the BBC's coverage of Jeremy Corbyn has been biased,

but I don't think that's true.

For example, this is going out on the BBC,

and I think they've treated the extremist pinko Commie,

allotment-bothering nut-job completely fairly.

-Coming through, we have the Melania Trump robot.

-Will she be missed?

We put dress on broomstick, so nobody will notice for few hours.

Hello.

Where am I? Why isn't everything made of gold?

State prime directives.

Directive one - help President believe

big shit ideas are brilliant.

Directive two -

like shiny things.

Hmm. Brain is OK.

Change her motors, give her two facelifts,

and add an extra inch to her legs.

I don't want to make sex to you, Donald.

I'm not touching your fucking hand.

-Oh, no!

-Don't order my food, pig.

Wipe her brain.

Your neck is soft like Louis Vuitton glove.

Look, Melaniabot!

Look at the pretty handbag!

Vintage Chanel!

Oh! So on trend!

Neutralise the First Lady. Now. Now!

We should send in another wife. It's not like he'll notice.

Mark IV isn't ready yet. What other androids do we have?

Er...the Faragebot is currently walking around without purpose.

Give it a dinner dress, buy it some perfume.

we're going to have to wing this.

Hello?

Anyone?

-Hello, love, sorry to keep you waiting.

-What's going on?

I was told to report to Labour headquarters for the voluntary...

Voluntary mandatory re-education programme. Yes, that's right.

We just want to make sure that you are absolutely

at one with the party.

Well, I think I am. I did just win a seat for them.

Yeah, it's funny, with all the success Jeremy's been enjoying,

how many members are keener to serve.

-Oh, well, he led an impressive campaign, proved his mettle.

-Good.

So that we can carry on as comrades together, we just need

to make some tiny little changes to the way your whole mind works.

Erm...

Firstly, let me purge you of all those pesky bourgeois red Tory

trappings that have been holding you back,

so I'm just going to take your car keys,

and in exchange, I'm going to give you

this lovely set of bicycle clips.

Now, since Jeremy won the election...

-Oh, he... He didn't actually win.

-What?

He did well - better than we thought, much better -

-but he didn't actually win.

-He did. He won the mandate.

-That's not strictly true.

-Yes, he did! He defeated Toryism.

Well, not in a literal or real sense...

Tell me, what is the larger number of seats? 318 or 262?

-318.

-Numerically, yes, but what represents more success?

-318.

-Does it, though? Look again.

What is more impressive in terms of scale?

It's 318. It's a bigger number than 262.

SHE SIGHS

It seems that someone is in need of just a teensy bit more persuasion.

Susan, love, could you ask John McDonnell to pop in?

No! Please!

Surely you've got some thumbscrews or something!

# Tracey breaking the news. #

Battle bus. Rent your battle bus here.

Get your battle bus here.

Rent your battle bus. Battle bus for hire.

Yeah, so, two elections on the trot, two referendums,

the Scottish election - we've been coining it, the battle bus trade,

but right now, no bookings.

Without a national vote every month,

my business model's right down the toilet.

Rent your battle bus here.

Giant misleading slogan of your choice on the side.

-Where you going, love?

-Er, chemist.

-Battle bus could get you there.

-Sorry.

-Battle bus!

Rent your battle bus here.

Getting on with the job of government, that's what I'm doing.

-Course you are, dearest.

-And I'm planning for an orderly Brexit.

Look, I bought a new exercise book,

and I've written "Orderly Brexit" on there,

and I've underlined it twice.

Shall I put a box around it as well? No? Yes? No?

THUD

Was that a sound on the stairs? Is that Hammond come to oust me?

Or Johnson or Rudd or...all of them?

Philip, put a chair under that doorknob. That's a boy job.

Don't be silly, old girl.

Nobody's going to get rid of you.

For at least the next six weeks.

I'm doing my best!

I even asked Michael Gove back,

and if that doesn't win over the masses, then I don't know what will.

It's dashed unfair.

And now Corbyn's appearing at Glastonbury. Maybe I should do that.

I mean, not there, but Penny's having a bassoon recital

in Chichester, and I could give my talk about grammar schools.

PHONE RINGS

Don't answer that.

Hello! It's Arlene Foster from the DUP. We have a few more requests.

We want a Wagamama in Londonderry, and we demand an extension

to the Giant's Causeway because people on TripAdvisor keep saying

it's not as big as they thought it would be.

I remember when I thought the DUP was just

a courier service for my Net-a-Porter deliveries.

Are you OK, old stick? You seem a bit tense.

It's just so quiet around here.

I miss the sound of Fiona and Nick making the civil servants cry.

Yes, I miss them, too.

KNOCK AT DOOR, SHE GASPS

This is it!

I had so much I wanted to do,

and at some point I was going to tell everyone what that was.

-It's OK, dear, just a delivery. This is for you.

-Oh!

Oh! A Vivienne Westwood dress! Oh, what a comfort.

I can't wait to feel its swish against my dry white knees.

-What's that?

-Oh, just a little something to help you.

It's a CD to teach you how to talk to humans.

You just listen to the phrases, and then repeat what they say.

How are you?

-Strong and stable.

-No - repeat what it says.

-The weather has been uncomfortably warm.

-That's Jeremy Corbyn's fault.

-Yeah, we'll try again later, shall we?

-Yes.

Back to negotiating an orderly Brexit that works for Britain.

I might underline it again.

What's a Paddy Power?

-And what does it mean, £10 each way on David Davis?

-I don't know.

It just popped up.

No hymns for you tonight!

It's been a tricky couple of years for us pollsters.

We said there'd be a hung parliament in 2015.

We called Brexit wrong,

and none of us saw Boaty McBoatface coming,

so we completely overhauled our canvassing system,

and recalibrated our algorithms

to make sure we got this election dead right.

And did you?

No, we got it wrong, but in a very different way.

Still, the fact is, we were all miles off,

apart from the exit poll people, but that's basically cheating, isn't it?

So what went wrong?

It may have something to do with changing demographics,

but we also suspect that basically,

the British public have been screwing with us,

lying about their voting intentions to make us look silly.

If the General Election were tomorrow,

who here would vote Conservative?

Right, and who would vote Labour?

You see what we're up against?

Essentially, none of the traditional polling methods work any more,

so, with another election probably just around the corner,

we've been working on some rather more reliable prediction techniques.

Roger here is really onto something.

Yes, we've developed some simple but brilliant new methodology

to predict the name of the next prime minister.

Hey little wren,

my mum's hen says the next PM will be...

Leanne Wood.

Mmm.

That may need a little more work.

# She's gonna faking well break the news. #

All the politicians say they want to do something

for our working families.

I get that, but what about us?

We're bone idle.

Most days, I can't even be bothered to reach for the remote.

Yesterday, it was on the other chair,

so I ended up watching four hours of Catchphrase on Challenge TV.

-What's Mr Chips doing? Who gives a shit?

-Not us, that's for sure.

When do we get our say?

Did you vote?

Did we what?

Now, I know coming here isn't easy for anyone,

but this support group is here to help you.

And recent events like Brexit have stirred up a lot of feelings,

and you've all come to realise something. Something shocking.

You've realised that not everyone thinks exactly the same as you do.

Susan, maybe you'd like to share your story.

Thanks, Kay. Erm...

Well, the thing is,

I used to look at my Facebook, and think,

"It's fine, we all basically agree with each other,"

and then, last June, the Brexit result...

I gradually began to realise that there are people in the world who...

Who don't think the same as me.

-Joseph, you had something to say.

-Yeah.

I went into work the day after the referendum, and some people

were happy, and I realised,

if people don't agree with me about that,

maybe they don't agree with me about...other things.

I mean, some things we all agree on, like the Star Wars prequels -

everyone thinks they're shit.

Oh, I quite like them!

-Well, I don't think they're as bad as everyone says.

-No!

This can't be happening! What's the matter with you?!

Why can't everyone be right?!

Like me!

KNOCK AT DOOR

Is this the place for the different opinions support group?

Yes, that's right. Please, come in.

-I'm Frank.

-Welcome, Frank.

Now, remember, you can say anything you want here.

-It's a very safe environment.

-Oh, great, thanks.

It's got so I'm afraid to open my mouth in public, but you know,

it's not all doom and gloom, is it?

I mean, happy anniversary!

HE SCREAMS

BAGPIPES PLAY

You're about to find out what happens to SNP MPs

when they lose their seats to the Tories.

Nicola, please!

This organisation does not tolerate failure.

PHONE RINGS

Nicola, there's a member of a rival club here. She's heading this way.

The name's Davidson. Ruth Davidson.

The leader of the Tory Party in Scotland.

-The one that took all those seats from us!

-Shut up, wee Marie!

-You think I don't know that?

-Forgive me for dropping by.

I was actually next door at a shortbread factory

rolling out biscuit dough for a photo op.

It appears I'm in great media demand for some reason.

Is it just me, or is there a wee midgey buzzing around, Marie?

-I think I hear something.

-Shall we play the 18th, ladies?

-MUMBLES:

-13 seats!

Oh, bad luck! It looks like you're in the rough, and I'm on the green.

If that's where your ball landed,

then I'm the boil on Rory McIlroy's bum.

Oh, come on, you don't want to get a reputation as a poor loser,

-do you, now, Nicola?

-What do you want?

To warn you, lay off this IndyRef 2 nonsense. It's over.

-Theresa's not for turning.

-Oh, you're kidding me!

That woman's had more flip-flops than a beach shop in Troon!

-That would be only, like, four.

-Shut it, wee Marie!

And escort our guest to the bunker.

Cocktail.

A Hoots Manhattan.

Drambuie and McEwan's in a deep fried glass.

Shaken, not stirred, of course. I don't need IndyRef 2.

I've got bigger ideas.

Let me tell you about Skexit.

Skexit?

Scotland's exit from the UK.

What's that?

Oh, just a little something I borrowed

from Her Majesty's naval base in Faslane.

Why do you want a nuclear weapon? You're anti-Trident!

It's not for defence purposes!

A warhead detonated under Dumfries will break Scotland clean away,

sending us out into the North Sea,

where we will bounce off Norway, and come to rest next to Denmark,

leaving us irrevocably part of Europe for the rest of time.

You'll never get away with this, you know, Sturgeon.

Me and my 13 Westminster colleagues will make sure that...

Feed her to the haddock.

Now, more on the images of a bullying incident in Leicester.

This mobile phone footage appears to show

a group of young people victimising an elderly man.

I'm joined now by Chief Inspector Wendy McKie.

-It's a tough watch, isn't it?

-Absolutely.

I mean, this footage is nothing short of appalling.

You have to wonder at the mentality of these people.

If you're going to film an abusive incident,

why on Earth would you do it in portrait mode?

Yeah, because TV is broadcast in landscape format,

and if you film something in portrait,

it takes up, what, a third of the screen?

Which means that we then have to put the blurry stuff either side.

You know that, I know that,

the vast majority of decent people know that, but unfortunately,

there are some people who are just profoundly ignorant

of the correct aspect ratio.

Is there anything that can be done about this disturbing trend?

The temptation is to write these people off,

but I really believe that with the right sort of support,

they can quite literally turn their lives around.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

Oh, erm,,,and the actual incident itself?

Oh, right, yeah. Dreadful.

But then, the whole world's gone to shit, hasn't it?

# Tracey. #

And this is the last of the three-bed apartments.

-It's nice and spacious!

-It's wonderful, this part of London.

I've always wanted to not live here.

And since you'll be buying it and leaving it empty,

you'll also be stopping someone local

from ever having their own home.

That IS important to us.

There's been a lot of interest,

so how soon would you like to not move in?

Well, for somewhere like this, that ticks all the boxes,

I think we could not move in straight away.

-Here's the kitchen.

-Ooh!

Extractor fan.

Only time that's getting turned on.

-And what are the neighbours like?

-It's very cosmopolitan.

All the other flats are investment buyers, too,

so there are people not here from all over.

Absent Russians, a Greek shipping magnate no-one's met,

and next door isn't a lovely man from Dubai.

Oh, do you think this could not be a room for the nanny?

Absolutely, or it could not be a guest room,

or even not a home office.

The choice is yours.

-Ah! What a view!

-Exactly.

Just imagine not being out here of an evening,

no glass of wine in your hand.

Never taking in the sunset.

-I think we'll buy it.

-Congratulations.

You'll be very happy not here.

-Do you not live in the area?

-Oh, no.

I couldn't possibly afford to live round here. I've been priced out.

Now, I must show you the wet room that will be forever dry.

I am sick to death of voting.

We've had an election, a referendum, another election,

and now they're saying there might be another election!

I have got actual voting fatigue, which is real.

And the worst thing is, all of these stupid votes

are stopping me from taking part in the proper ones -

X-Factor, Eurovision,

Richard Osman's World Cup of Biscuits.

Politicians, stop it!

Ooh! Blimey! Is this the new office?

Yes. Look at all this space.

I can almost open my drawer.

Wow!

It's like you can feel all those extra MPs.

So, what's on the menu for today?

Well, we need to find a replacement for Tim Farron.

You can't have a party without a leader.

Not even a little one?

-No, I checked.

-OK. So, who's in the top 20?

We only have 12 MPs.

All right, then, top three?

Vince Cable's running.

Yes, but he's 74, which means by the time of the next election,

he'll be...

74, most likely.

Good point.

There's always Norman Lamb.

He stood last time and lost against Tim Farron,

which would basically make Tim Farron our favourite

to replace Tim Farron.

Well, then, that just leaves Ed Davey.

He divides the party.

Be six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Literally.

Well, that's everyone on the list.

What about this one?

Jo Swinson.

Ruled herself out.

Are you sure we can't convince her, though?

Because, look...

..the poster writes itself!

How about Fishfinger Guy?

Do you think we could turn him? At least he's memorable.

It could work.

-Does he have views on gay sex?

-Not that I can see.

Oh, no, hold on - he sent the costume back,

and without that,

he's just a completely unremarkable middle-aged man.

That could probably do us.

You're right!

Lunch?

-Ooh!

-Sorry!

# She's gonna faking well faking well faking well break the news. #

-Mabel, darling, can I ask you something?

-Sure.

Do you think I could be that North Korean newsreader on the show?

-You can't do comedy Koreans! It's not the '70s!

-'80s, please.

I'm not that old. Do you know who I'd really like to be?

Diane Abbott.

-MABEL SIGHS

-No, no.

Mabel, when she was like...

AS DIANE ABBOTT: No, no, that's not right, they're not the figures, er,

it's 300,000...er...

300 million.

Why can't I do that?

I mean, for one thing you'd get absolutely slaughtered on Twitter.

I don't care what they say on Twitter.

I've been in this business long enough

to not care about what they're saying about me online.

-What ARE they saying about me online?

-I don't know. Let's look.

@boozysusan says,

"Just watched Tracey Ullman's Angela Merkel impression,

"and I think I've wet myself."

-Wow. Is that good?

-That's good.

@ianfromcarshalton says, "That new Tracey Ullman show is worse than..."

-Oh, let's forget that one.

-Worse than what?

-It doesn't matter.

Well, no, let me have a look, then.

"That new Tracey Ullman show is worse than AIDS."

Why would he say something like that?!

It's just how people are on social media.

I mean, a couple of sketches I wasn't completely happy with,

but I'd still like to think they're better than AIDS.

Obviously they are.

"I wouldn't let Tracey Ullman give me a blowjob if you paid me."

Who'd pay him to do that? I mean, this guy absolutely hates me!

-What have I done?

-He's a troll, OK?

There's only one sensible way to deal with people like that.

Of course, yeah.

No, you're absolutely right.

Hi. Are you @ianfromcarshalton?

Yeah?

Bloody hell.

-What are you doing here?

-I want to talk to you about your tweets.

How did you find me?

-Oh, just drove to Carshalton, asked around in a few pubs.

-See, son?

Your old man's famous.

You've got 58 followers. You're hardly Justin Bieber.

Does he know what you say about me?

"I can't decide what I hate most about Tracey Ullman -

"the fact she's an unfunny bitch, or the fact she's an ugly bitch."

Yeah, why would you want to tell Mum that?

I didn't tell her - I just posted it!

You included her Twitter handle in the message.

And what is it about me and AIDS,

cos I'm looking through your other tweets, and not only do you think

my show is worse than AIDS, you also hope I get AIDS.

Why is that, exactly?

You annoy me.

Some people annoy ME, but I wouldn't wish AIDS upon them!

Yeah, it's a massive overreaction.

Leave me alone, will you?

I'm entitled to my opinion. I...don't like your show, OK?

-And I don't like you.

-But you'd have shagged her in the '80s.

-What?

That's what you tweeted last year.

"I'd have shagged Tracey Ullman in the '80s."

Oh, that's lovely, isn't it?

-But not now.

-Wow, you're a real Prince Charming, aren't you, Ian?

I mean, you know, don't think about my feelings!

-What gives you the right to say all these vicious...

-Come on.

-..and cruel things...

-That's enough.

-What?

-We're not getting anywhere.

-OK, I know.

-Let's go.

OK, Ian, you can say whatever you want,

because you're not going to get a reaction out of me.

-OK?

-Come on.

-No.

-Come on.

SNORING

PHONE RINGS, THEY GASP

Oh!

BLEEP

Hello, it's Arlene. I hope it's not too late for you.

The DUP have further demands. Do you have a pen there?

We want a bowl of M&Ms with all the homosexual ones taken out,

Thursday to be called Paisleyday,

and at least two marching bands to make the final of the X-Factor,

Disneyland Ulster to open...

-BLEEP

-Mailbox is full.

Perhaps it would be easier to call another election.