The Exam Bad Education

This programme contains some strong language.

Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Tring, where we set our scene.

-Ancient grudges have been forgot, thanks to these star-crossed lovers.

-I love it when you quote old shit.

Smooch, how's your breakfast?

Frank cooked it special, you know,

to say sorry for all them practical jokes.

You stopped being mean to Alfie, ain't you, Frank?

Ugh! Yeah. Yes, he has.

No more pubes on my toothbrush.

Aw, I knew you two was going to get on.

Ding dong! All passengers for Posh Paws Pet Salon, please disembark.

Woof, woof!

Oh, Mart, you're so funny. Say goodbye to Daddy, Coco.

-SQUEAKING:

-Bye-bye, Daddy!

Bye-bye, Coco!

Come here, you big hunk of man.

Please don't!

Oh, God.

Oh...

You put them in my sandwich, didn't you?

Do you know why I have summoned you here, to the Embassy of Bantartica?

-To tell him to dump Grayson's mum?

-No.

Although, as Headmaster, Martin,

I am formally obligated to remind you

that you are seriously punching above your ruddy weight.

What's your secret?

I'm like the Tory party.

I perform very well down south.

Right, you, shut up. You, why are we here?

The local education authority have forced me

to run background checks on the staff,

boring.com/bullshit.

However, in the rummage,

I have discovered Alf's guilty little secret.

Ugh, God! Is this about my Harry Potter audition?

Alf got down to the final three,

just pipped at the post

by Emma Watson.

I'm talking about your GCSE Biology, or absence thereof.

Ooh, the GCSE story.

Let me dust off me old book of yarns.

HE COUGHS Get on with it.

It was young Alf's GCSE term

and he was having to deal with some pretty brutal bullying.

His mother and I never got to the bottom of why they picked on him.

Alfie was also struggling with biology.

Luckily though, Alf wasn't the only neglected soul at the school.

A friendship was born.

That young janitor from Boston taught Alf everything he knew.

Come his exam, he was brimming with confidence.

What happened?

-He got a U.

-Oh.

Turned out the janitor didn't know anything about biology.

Or much else for that matter.

The man had an IQ of 40.

He was tutoring Alfie in a strain of pataphysics

he claimed a lizard had taught him in a dream.

So what? I failed an exam, like, seven years ago.

I suppose now you're going to tell me that I'm not allowed to teach anymore.

Yes, I am. I can't employ you without your core GCSEs.

You're going to have to sit biology along with the other candidates.

Me? Do an exam with the kids?

But I haven't done biology since I was, like, 16.

Well, I tell you what, I could probably give you an A to Z

on the Ps and Qs of the birds and bees.

Right, anything but that.

Alfie Wickers, can you concentrate please?

-Can I go to the loo?

-It's "May I go to the loo,"

and no, you can't, because you've already been three times.

Now, carbon dioxide plus water

equals glucose, and...

-Yes, Alfie?

-Can - sorry - MAY you teach me the equation

of how to cook crystal meth?

Just in case I fail the exam.

Well, you won't fail if you concentrate.

Er, Miss, when do we get to see a fanny?

If you ask nicely, maybe your brother will let you see his.

-PUPILS: Ooh!

-Settle down please.

He ain't my brother.

Sorry, can I just point out,

I don't have a fanny.

Why have you predicted us all A stars, Miss?

Because, Joe, nothing is more powerful than self belief.

Yeah, but, Rosie, in Joe's defence,

he's about as likely to get an A star

as he is to win Rear of the Year.

In my defence?

Joe's right, when we crash and burn,

our 'rents are going to be mucho sad face.

Other than Jing's obviously.

Yeah, obviously. Jing's going to get ten A stars

and a scholarship to an all-girls private school.

So, obviously Jing's going to be fine(!)

-Sorry, babe.

-It's not your fault.

My parents are obsessed with me getting this scholarship.

Remember, Jing, parents only want what's best for you.

Yeah, I mean parents always say that,

but sometimes what parents actually want

is really, really shit for everyone involved.

Are you saying my mum ain't good enough

-for your saggy-bollocked prick of a dad?

-No, Frank.

What I'm saying is that when my father is motorboating

your ridiculously-titted, dog-bothering mother over breakfast,

that perhaps they don't have our best interests at heart.

You leave Coco out of this.

Who the hell is Coco?

The rat his mother keeps in her handbag.

Coco is a pedigree Chihuahua.

Probably the ugliest dog I've ever seen in my entire life.

-I'm warning you!

-It looks a bit like someone glued some whiskers

onto a junkie's scrotum.

-OK, I'm sorry.

-Frank! Oh...

-SPEAKING OTHER LANGUAGE

-..Fireball Tomahawk rockets?

Freeze!

-Uh-oh, it's the MILF hunter.

-Any last requests?

-Does your missus have a sister?

-No, but her mother's quite tasty.

Excuse me. Yes, 30 litres of gasoline.

I'm organising the kids' end of exam party.

Ingredients - one skip, one match and a whole heap of textbooks.

About that, the skip party's off.

Council were very clear. No more fires.

Yeah, well, there's always a killjoy somewhere,

living in a thatched cottage.

Martin, I think you need to call Frank's mother.

-There's a problem.

-Oh, God!

Has Frank found our home videos?

No...

Tell me everything you know about nitro-glycerine.

Now, this morning, I had to break-up a fight.

-He started it!

-No, I didn't. Dad, he called you a prick.

-Boys will be boys.

-They were just play fighting.

He called Coco a rat.

What?!

Did I? I don't remember saying that.

-You can say what you like about Frank.

-I can?

-You can call him a useless mongrel.

-Bit harsh.

You can call him a selfish, bed-wetting, little bastard,

-who made his dad up and leave.

-Whoa!

But don't you dare be rude about my little princess.

Right, um, I wouldn't say any of those things about Frank,

mainly cos he scares the shit out of me,

but also because underneath the bravado and the pube sandwiches,

I know that he's a good kid.

Alfie's absolutely right. I'm not sure you should be calling...

You have no right to tell me how to bring up my boy. Martin?

-Perhaps you should try...

-Martin!

You're bang out of order, Rosie.

Mrs Grayson, I'm not telling you how to raise your children.

Behavioural problems are sometimes linked to jealousy.

Not jealous, Miss. Don't deserve Mummy's love.

Coco's pedigree.

I'm... I'm not pedigree.

OK. Um, here's an idea.

How about we just say sorry to each other and then we can all move on?

-I think that's a wonderful idea.

-Frank, I....

Well?

You want me to talk to the dog?

Coco, I'm very sorry

for saying that you look like a junkie's scrotum.

Martin?

Well done, Alfie.

No, Martin! You as well.

-You hurt her feelings.

-But I didn't...

Sorry, Coco.

See!

That wasn't so hard, was it?

Silly old man, won't be having any of Mummy's pudding tonight,

will he, Coco?

Nice to see your father's found himself another nutcase.

I mean how does he find them?

Look, I know it's tricky with Frank,

but you and your class have to stay focused on this exam.

Rosie, you know I have the utmost respect for your judgment,

but A stars? For my class?

Are you mental?

But don't you realise what an amazing opportunity you have here?

You can stand shoulder to shoulder with these kids,

going through the same ordeal together, as equals.

Alfie, you can inspire them to do great things.

The only way we can pass the biology exam

is if we cheat. Agreed?

-Agreed!

-Boys and girls,

prepare to be transformed into ruthless cheating machines.

This is your Tour de France

and I am your dodgy Italian doctor

with a suitcase full of blood.

CHEERING

The Sit Behind The Clever Kid method.

Here we go.

One smart kid makes their work visible for the cheats

slipstreaming either side of them.

Apropos of nothing,

Jing, how big is your handwriting?

The Water Bottle method.

The invigilators are required

to allow you to take a bottle of water into the exam.

We simply steam the labels off the bottle,

write the answers on the inside of them and then stick them back on.

The Plaster method.

Same logic applies. Answers underneath,

then simply peel back when necessary.

The Tissue method.

We write the answers on the tissues in this box,

then swap it for the one in the exam hall.

If you're stuck, all you need to do is fake a cold.

-Or have a wa...

-Fake a cold and the answers are literally handed to you.

The Wheelchair method.

All you need to get through this is a false bottom.

Is that what your mum told you when she sent you to boarding school?

I meant in his wheelchair. It's an old shoplifter's trick.

What?

The Tapping method. Perfect for multiple choice questions.

I merely tap out the number of the question that I'm stuck on. TAPPING

And then whoever has the answer, taps it out back to me.

SLAPPING

Memento method.

Write down answers on parts of your body

that are concealed by your uniform.

The more body space, the better!

Get in!

And, for my final trick, the Smartphone!

They get confiscated, you fool!

Oh, my God, how am I going to retweet all my little monsters?

Never fear, because I will be handing in a dummy phone,

leaving me free to use my toilet breaks to consult my actual phone,

which I have sneakily planted in a designated toilet cubicle

before the exam.

While you're in there, you can give your mum a bell.

Her number's still on the toilet wall.

My number's up there too, Sir.

You know, phone a friend with benefits.

Yeah, as opposed to my dad, who has a friend on benefits.

Is that it then? Can we get back to revising now?

Not quite.

If all else fails, I have a trusted third party

waiting to receive an all-clear text message.

If that text doesn't come through, they will call the school,

claiming to be from the hospital,

saying that my grandmother has been in a terrible accident.

Whole exam rendered null and void.

But, Sir, who would tell such a horrific lie?

Oi, oi, Dickers! Sounds like your bollocks have finally dropped.

Right, I only get one call a day, so this better be good.

-Martin?

-Ssh,

I've just got Coco off to sleep.

I'm babysitting while Catherine redecorates Coco's boudoir.

-She wants it to be a surprise.

-Martin, are you 100% happy?

Please don't wake her up!

She wouldn't stop barking. I had to slip a little whisky in her milk.

Oh, God, don't tell me she's making you wear that as a breast?

See you in there.

Oh, I'm not invigilating the exam.

What? But you have to!

When you invigilate it's so much easier to cheat...

expectations and exceed academically.

Remember when you sent me that clip

of a geriatric man singing with his genitals?

And remember how I accidentally broadcast it

to an exam full of children?

-Best prank ever!

-Yeah, well, since then, they've been a bit weird

about me invigilating exams.

But fear not, my replacement is the best in the business,

the legendary Mr Hewston.

-You do know Maurice Hewston?

-Never heard of him.

Maurice is the most ruthless, ball-breaking cheat buster

ever to have removed a child's nipples with a shatterproof ruler.

The man is an arsehole!

-Shit!

-Legend has it,

as a youth, the boy Maurice got caught cheating on an O Level.

He was sentenced by a kangaroo court

of disaffected rural Latin teachers dressed as crows,

to suffer the ultimate punishment.

-What happened?

-They cut out his tongue.

-Jesus Christ!

-Good luck!

CHATTER I'm going to smash this exam, yeah.

Alfie, I'm really proud of you.

The kids look so confident. Whatever you did has done the trick.

Well, you know, it's like you always say,

nothing beats honest to goodness hard work.

Alfie, not really appropriate.

Just a little good luck hug.

Well, OK. There we are.

There you go.

Ah!

Good luck, kids. Good luck, Alf.

Alfie, I'm scared! What if we get caught?

Don't worry, mate. You're going to nail it.

You'll get your grades, I'll keep my job.

Rosie'll be impressed, take me back.

It's literally the perfect crime.

Hewston!

METER DETECTOR SQUEALS

-Bad luck, babes!

-Oh, shit, man!

Oh, this guy's good.

Oh, for fu...

Time for Plan B.

By the way, er...

thanks for telling my mum that I ain't a bad bloke.

Oh, that's no problem.

I mean, it don't mean you and your dad ain't pricks, yeah,

but I owe you one.

Thanks.

FIRE ALARM RINGS

HE MOUTHS

CLOCK TICKING

TICKING INTENSIFIES

GONG

HE COUGHS ONCE

TAP

TAP TAP

TAP TAP

TAP

TAP TAP TAP

HE MOUTHS

TAP TAP TAP

PENCIL SHARPENER WHIRRING

PENCIL SHARPENER WHIRRING

TAP TAP TAP

SHREDDER WHIRRING

HE SNEEZES

COCO SNORING

SNORING CONTINUES

HE GASPS

INAUDIBLE

HE MOUTHS

CLATTER

SOFT RETCHING

SPLASH

IMITATES EXPLOSION

COCO SNORING

PHONE RINGS

Hello, Abbey Grove.

This is a message from Watford General Hospital.

'This is a message from Watford General Hospital.

'We've checked all the scans, all the x-rays. We've even borrowed the Hubble Telescope,

'but we still can't find your cock.' MITCHELL LAUGHING

AIR HORN

So hot...

Have some water.

-What happened?

-You fainted.

I asked Mr Hewston if that meant you got special consideration.

He just spat on the floor,

which I took to mean no.

How did you do?

-That bad?

-Worse! I've lost my job, Joe.

The papers!

What about them?

Distract Hewston. I'll sneak them out.

Hey, I just wanted to say,

well played. Good game.

Want to swap shirts?

Just a joke.

Anyway, I understand why you're such...an arsehole.

I mean, God knows I'd be like that if a teacher had cut out my tongue.

-HIGH-PITCHED:

-What the hell you talking about?

Why would anyone cut out my tongue?

Oh!

That's why you don't speak.

I beg your pardon?

Goodbye.

Where are the papers?

I had a better idea. I swapped your cover page with Jing's.

-What?

-Think about it. All week she's been saying how

she wants her parents to love her for who she is and not her grades.

-This way, everyone wins.

-I dunno, Joe.

All right, Bum and Bummer. Fraser wants ya.

You're missing the skip party.

LAUGHTER

Where's Jing? I need to talk to her.

She's over by the skip.

-We're going to get more books, Sir.

-Cool.

Grab some shit from my desk too.

HEWSTON SCREAMING

Jing?

Look, there's something I'm feeling terrible about,

though, technically it's Joe's fault.

-Cheers, Sir.

-You know the way you said

you didn't really want to get an A star in your GCSE?

What if I told you

that you're definitely not going to get an A star?

I'd say, "I know."

And that I'm delighted about it.

Well, that's worked out rather well, then.

That's why I torpedoed my exam.

Sorry, what?

I wrote the worst paper you have ever seen, literally un-gradable.

It's offensively stupid! I mean...

I could be sent to some kind of home.

Well, isn't that just...

terrific?

Kill me!

Oi, My Little Pony, say goodbye to your satchel.

That ain't mine, darling. Pink is so noughties.

Alfred, have you seen Coco?

Pink travel bag, I left it on your desk.

-Ah!

-Where's baby Coco? I bought her some pressies.

Dad, what I think may have just happened, in the long term,

-might be for the best.

-Short term?

(Run!)

Martin, where's my baby? I told you not to leave her alone!

I... I'll look in the car.

Jing, I can't read Mandarin, are these fireworks?

No, they're not, actually.

Oh, thank God, I thought you'd gone completely insane.

They're military flares.

Highly explosive, potentially blinding,

containing lead, arsenic and...

Oh, God and the box is empty. Fraser?

The nice pirate in Shanghai

said they'd make a real fire dragon come alive in the sky. Oh, shizzle!

-Children, get back from the skip!

-SCREAMING

Just cover your eyes, kids. I may have made a slight miscalculation.

-Frank, what are you doing?

-Plan C!

Is that..?

EXPLOSION, SCREAMING

Open the door, Martin. Tell me what you did to Coco.

I didn't do anything to her.

Then where is she, Martin?

Oh, you don't need to be afraid,

so long as you let me into the fucking car!

THUMP

Coco!

Martin!