Episode 2 The Fast Show Special

-Wow, what's that?

-It's my new Cheesy Peas app.

-Wow! Let me have a go.

-All right.

-VOICEOVER:

-Keep up-to-date with Cheesy Peas

with the new Cheesy Peas app.

Hot recipes, cool games, quizzes, competitions,

the Cheesypedia and more.

Wow, how cool is that?

Be part of the Cheesy Peas community, chat to, share with

and meet enthusiasts in your area.

Find out about Cheesy Peas events, movies

and probably even some gay stuff as well.

Wow, it's the best!

This programme contains some strong language

Can I get off to my lunch break a bit earlier today, Swiss?

I've got Cicely coming for dinner tonight

and I needed to buy some stuff.

Are you...cooking for her, Paul?

I thought I'd give it a try.

A wise move.

-The ladies love a man in the kitchen.

-Well, I hope you're right.

I'm not the best cook in the world.

My repertoire doesn't extend to boiling an egg.

You know what I say, Paul?

Boiling an egg is very much like making love to a beautiful woman.

First, make your selection.

If you're lucky you'll have anything up to a dozen to choose from.

Brown or white, it doesn't matter - they're all the same on the inside.

Then bring it to the boil as quickly as possible, and 3½ minutes later

you'll be ready to take its top off and dip your soldier in.

Yeah, but I can't do a boiled egg, can I?

Not for a romantic dinner.

Well, then how about a baked potato, Paul?

You can't go too far wrong with a baked potato.

-You haven't seen me cook, Swiss.

-No, no, no, no. It's a simple, Paul.

Baking a potato is very much like making love to a beautiful woman.

Choose a nice, big, plump one,

but you don't want it too tough and leathery.

Wash it, warm it up,

check the skin for any blemishes,

misplaced eyes and poisonous growths.

Then if you think it's ready thrust in your prong,

and if you think it's soft and warm on the inside,

you're ready to split her in half, smear her with butter

and start mashing.

HE CHUCKLES

Barcelona are really flying tonight, Ron. They are a joy to behold.

Well, talking of flying, Clive,

we're actually up pretty high ourselves, aren't we?

We're like mountaineers.

Is there any chance we could have our old chairs back? Hm, isn't it?

It's the modern way, Ron. These days the stool beats the chair

-hands down.

-Rubbish.

There's nout wrong with a chair. It's a bloody design classic.

You're not wrong, Sam.

I don't know who makes these decisions.

Probably some middle-management numpty

with a degree in media studies

who knows nothing about football

or the height at which it should be discussed.

Well, I don't feel very safe up here, you know?

Touch of the old vertigo, and I'm too old for punditry at this height.

There's no desk, and I feel very exposed.

We're professionals, Ron. I think we can rise above it.

Quite literally.

We can show the world that nothing fazes us,

and our in-depth analysis of the sport continues unabashed.

So, they're very small, Ron, aren't they? The Barcelona midfield.

Oh, the Barcelonians.

Best team in the world, isn't it?

Homage to Catalonia, wasn't it?

Iniesta, Xavi and Messi, diminutive, aren't they? Isn't it? Hm?

Effective though, Ron. But they really are so tiny,

they're almost like dwarves.

Players of restricted height.

If they didn't have football, there's always panto, eh, Ron?

-HE LAUGHS

-Because if you look at them, they really are like dwarfs.

Albeit very nimble ones.

Oh, oh. Small men in the Camp Nou,

Ferraris for goalposts, isn't it? Marvellous.

Rubbish. Just look at them,

rolling round like pansies every time they're tackled.

Indeed. It's not football as we know it.

Roll on Stoke vs Bolton.

Real football, live this Sunday, here.

On the telly.

I have received a letter...

from the Archbishop, John.

Grave news, my lady?

This is not a matter I could ever discuss with the family,

and yet it is of a very personal nature.

You know, you can always trust me, Lady Margaret.

I know, John. You have always been my rock.

I saw the Archbishop last week...

..and he has written to me...

commenting...

on...

John, I don't know how to say it.

-My lady, I...

-Does my bum look big in this dress?

-My lady, I...

-He implies as much in his letter.

My lady, you must be mistaken.

The Archbishop would never be so bold

as to comment on the size of your bum in a letter.

Read it, John.

Read it.

HE MUTTERS

"..your bum looked rather big in that dress."

Well?

I really don't know what to say.

You are avoiding the issue, John.

Does my bum, or does it not look big in this dress?

I feel that as a man, I don't think it's my place to comment on the...

CLATTER

Ah! Lucy, does her ladyship's bum look big in that dress?

Oh...

It's not really my place to say, ma'am...your ladyship.

THEY MOUTH

What's going on in here? Give Mother some air.

Can't you see that she's tired?

And, Mama, what on earth are you doing wearing that dress?

It makes your bum look enormous.

EASTENDERS THEME TUNE

-SHE CRIES

-The bastard.

What's up, love? Man trouble?

He's left me for a 20-year-old.

I'm only 35 and he's nearly 50.

He's pathetic.

Women often use that word to describe this situation.

The old younger-model scenario.

We have another word for it -

brilliant!

Oh, no, look...

Men are attracted to younger women. That's just the way of the world.

Whereas women are happy to put up with an old chicken of a man.

A dried-up stinking husk of an old rhino lying about the gaff.

We were going to get married.

Well, it's a good job you found out what a cad he is now.

Look, let me ask you a question. Do you love him?

It's none of your business.

Sometimes it's better to let it all out, you know?

Talk to a complete stranger.

I tell you what, I'll go and get a couple of bags of crisps,

we'll have a nice old chat, yeah?

Someone's sitting there, mate.

MUSIC CHIMES

HE SPEAKS IN ITALIAN

Go!

Eurozone crisis...

HE SPEAKS IN ITALIAN

-Bad boys.

-News economico.

-Distastero.

-News environmentale.

-Distastero.

-News politica.

-Distastero.

-News traffica.

-Distastero.

News celebrititties.

Titties hacking hoorah!

Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.

Felihelah-feliheleh sminky-pinky chrisswuddle glenhubble yahwubble

kendubble Hubble Space Telescope

Smoking...

THEY TALK OVER EACH OTHER

Ah, huh-huh-hah-hoh.

THEY SPEAK IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE

..Cheesy Peasy app...

-FOREIGN VOICEOVER:

-..and Cheesy Peas app.

Fruit and game and meet and greet

and rump and pump and molto, molto fun.

Wow, maximum!

Ist ein fabulitz and glitz and titz and singing and ringing and fun

-and Cheesy Peasy, fun fun fun.

-Con-con-con-con-con.

SPEAKS IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE

-VOICEOVER:

-Offer not valid in Wales. App may not work.

HE TALKS GIBBERISH

..and at half-time it was Nairobi four, Mombasa one.

I mean, you know...

MAKES A TRUMPET SOUND

You know...

MAKES A TRUMPET SOUND

HE TALKS GIBBERISH

..like that. It was a type of equestrian cement.

I don't know.

I, I...

You know.

HE LAUGHS

And I rather rashly put my head inside his mouth.

HE LAUGHS

TALKS GIBBERISH

..like that.

And when I woke

all I could hear

was Mahler's Fifth Symphony

drifting through the trees.

HE SINGS A TUNE

And I mean it was utterly...

utterly...

utterly...

utterly...

..utterly...

HE MUMBLES

She looked at me and she said...

HE TALKS NONSENSE

HE LAUGHS

..and I looked at her and I said...

HE MUMBLES

She looked back at me and she said...

HE MUMBLES

Yeah, and I went... And she said...

-HE MUMBLES

-..like that.

Unfortunately, as soon as she said it

my nose started to bleed copiously.

HE MUMBLES

Blah-blah-blah.

I'm afraid she...

I was very...

very drunk.

She's 20 years old. I mean, what are they going to talk about?

-Well, I doubt they'll be doing much talking.

-Oh.

SHE CRIES

No. Look... Have you considered a make over?

Get your nose lifted or your eyes widened?

You could get them manga eyes like them Japanese cartoon birds.

Or get your ears pinned back.

-Blokes love that, it's like you're paying attention.

-I'd never get

-anything like that done.

-I don't see what the stigma is.

My mum's just been in hospital.

She's having a new hip fitted, and an elbow.

I said, "Why don't you get yourself a new arse too?

"Victoria Beckham for looks, or J-Lo for comfort."

Yeah, a lot of my friends have had botox.

Yeah, my pals off the estate use that for when they're up in court.

It's brilliant for keeping a straight face.

"I put it to you, Mr Johnson, you did club the Somalian."

"No, your honour."

Maybe I'll get myself a younger model.

You know, someone really buff.

Well, let's have a look at you. Right.

Good points - quite tall, you're relatively young.

Bad points - problem skin and you've got weird hair.

But the most important thing is - you're not fat.

Fat is not where it's at. Blokes hate fat birds.

Well, I'm quite lucky with my metabolism.

Anything I eat, it goes right through me.

Why do you have to say that?

I've conjured up the image now. Oh.

No wonder you're on your own.

Who do you think you are, Uncle Tumbly the tumbling Turk?

-AUDIENCE:

-Uncle Tumbly the tumbling Turk.

You know what I'm talking about even if I don't.

Hey, guess what right? I've got a boyfriend what I met online.

He's called Razor.

And guess what, right? He was born with a full set of teeth.

I mean, how cute is that?

But like...the irony is now he's just got one.

There in the middle, a gold one.

But he can twiddle it both ways.

Which is brilliant.

But he's actually inside at the moment.

It was only for something minor.

I think it was a bit of manslaughter, something like that.

But he's always, always tweeting me.

They call him the Birdman of Strangeways.

-VOICEOVER:

-Not coming soon to the BBC or any other channel,

even some of the really crappy cable ones, John Akhtar

is a tough, uncompromising, bitter, out-of-work actor.

That's it.

I went up for that. And they gave it to him?

Oh, he's rubbish. He can't act.

Him?! Playing a copper?

Kids TV actor.

Hobbits, Hobbits, Hobbits.

Where are the jobs for a normal-sized man?

We're very lucky with the weather today.

I'm so glad that the rain has held off.

Yes, and the forecast was pretty gloomy.

Yes, but mind you,

some heavy dark lowering clouds

can add drama to a competition.

Ah...yes.

There's always a danger in these rural paintings of it

looking a little bit chocolate-boxey.

-Well, um...

-Think I need some chiaroscuro in a painting, Katie.

To bring out the lighter patches I need to offset them

with something darker.

I think I should get out the...

Burnt umber.

No, no. Not brown, it's too muddy.

A...a...a nice deep purple.

No, something more neutral.

Sable.

-What?

-Sable. A nice sable.

No, no, no, no.

Noir.

-No, it's not the word I'm looking for.

-Onyx?

-It's on the tip of my tongue.

-Um, um, um...

Sooty.

Um, oily.

Inky.

-Jet.

-No!

-Um...coal!

-No, Katie!

African-American.

No, Katie you're confusing me. I know exactly the colour I want.

SHE SWITCHES RADIO ON, MUSIC PLAYS

And it is...

-What's that?

-I brought a little music, Johnny.

Oh. Well, if you think so, Katie.

I am somewhat changed in mood but...

I do like a nice tune, and...

you know what? I've completely forgotten

what it is we were talking about.

Ah, really? Well, never mind.

You listen to the music while you paint,

and let's not say another word, eh?

RADIO VOICEOVER

I recognise that voice. Who is that disc jockey?

I think it's Tony Blackburn.

Tony...Blackburn.

Tony Blackburn.

Blackburn.

Blackburn.

-SHOUTS:

-Blackburn.

Blackburn!

Blackburn!

Black, black, black.

Burn, burn, burn!

Black, black, black, black!

Like in the mouth.

Black!

Like inky the octopus that come lolloping along.

Mr Pinky hits his hammer.

Hit, hit, hit!

Yes, hello, is Mr Richardson there, please?

This is Tony Kennett from the bank.

Hit, hit, hit!

How far in the trunk, Mummy?

How far in the trunk?

Glenda knows. Glenda knows.

Now, Johnny.

Equestrian cement.

Equestrian cement.

Underarm.

-Johnny! I think it's time we went home. Come on.

-Great...

big face.

Yes, Johny. Come on.

You're in my telescope.

Equestrian cement?

How queer.

I just tweeted my boyfriend, Razor.

I've put, "My darling Razor, I love you. Have you had your tea?"

I absolutely cannot wait for him to come out.

He's only got 19 years, six months and three days left to do.

And he says he's definitely going to finish with his wife

when he gets out.

I sent him a little picture of me.

I say me - it wasn't really me, it was Cheryl Cole.

But Razor, for a man, he's right into his fashion,

always saying to me,

"What are you wearing?" You know, stuff like that.

TWEET

He just tweeted me back.

"My darling Janine...

"I love you.

"Yes, I have just had my tea.

"Your shit would taste better."

Ah.

And then he's put, "I have just tweeted a guard."

See, that's Razor all over. Do you know what I mean?

He gets on with everyone.

Oh, no - hang on...

Oh, "I just twatted a guard."

# The last that ever she saw him

# Carried away by a moonlight shadow

# He passed on worried and warning... #

As I walk down the country lane I hear the sound of Mother Nature

all around me.

What's that I hear? A babbling brook.

Is there a more beautiful sound in all of Christendom?

I don't think so.

Not long ago our rivers were full of pike, salmon, trout,

even the odd porpoise that lost his way.

But due to horrific overfishing on the high seas,

and the Albanians eating all our carp, there are very few fish left.

So, if you are thinking of having one of our scaly friends,

please make sure it comes from one of the of sustainable species

like pollock, or dab, or one of the other shit ones.

And let's face it, there's no greater sight

than a piece of firm, wet cod fried in batter.

Little puffs of steam rising up as you separate the firm, moist fish.

Few chips on the side, salt, vinegar, maybe a pickled onion

and a bottle of pale ale..

Wallop! We are in fishy heaven.

Ha-hoo!

Pull! Psh!

See you later.

# The last that ever she saw him

# Carried away by a moonlight shadow

# He passed on worried and warning

# Carried away by a moonlight shadow.

# Lost in a riddle that Saturday night... #

BOB CLEARS THROAT

Right, you want to take the first "arse",

And then the second on the ar-arse.

So that's the first...

-HE COUGHS

-Ar!

..and the second on the...

-HE COUGHS

-Ar-ar-ar.

Remember the old Two Ronnies?

Old Ronnie Corbett.

-"And the producer said to me..."

-"Ar..."

That's nice, isn't it, Jed?

That's lovely, isn't it, Bob?

Yeah, that's beautiful.

Are you ready to order?

-I think so, yeah.

-Ar-ar.

-I'll have the...

HE COUGHS

Can we have a look at the "arse!" list, please?

-I'll just give you five more minutes.

-Aaarse.

HE SWALLOWS That's got it.

Didn't happen to see that old Michael Caine film

they had on TV last night did you, Jed?

What was that then, Bobby? Arse! Dress! Lips, dress, arse!

No, it was Alfie.

-Arsey?

-That's it, yeah.

A lot of people say I do a very good impression of him.

-Oh, yeah? Go on, then. Go on, then.

-All right.

Arse, arse, arse, arse, arse!

HE YELPS

-GROWLS:

-Arse, arse, arse, arrr-se.

That's not bad, Jed.

That's not bad, but I think you'll find these days his voice

has got a whole lot deeper. It's gone down here a bit.

Down there a bit. It's more like...

"She was..."

HE COUGHS Excuse me.

"She was...

HE COUGHS

"You were only supposed to blow the bleeding ARSE..."

HE YELPS

That's pretty good that one, Jed.

I reckon that should win you the old "coughter"...

I should give you a...

HE COUGHS ..coughter.

Coughter.

Coughter doner shish kebab Bafta!

Are you ready to order now?

Yes, I think so. I...

HE COUGHS I'd like to start with the...

HE COUGHS

..followed by the...

BOB COUGHS

JED YELPS

..with a froth of...

HE COUGHS

HE YELPS

..and for dessert I'll have the coffee cake, please.

-And for you, sir?

-I'll just have the...

-HE BARKS

-..arse-sparagus.

HE LAUGHS

VOICE SPEAKS ON TELEVISION

You call that a Jamaican accent?

Costume dramas. I can do costume dramas.

Oh, not him from The Office again.

She's a nice girl.

Pff, could have fucked her.

I did fuck her.

I could play a pirate better than him.

APPLAUSE

Hello, and welcome to Jazz Club.

Mm.

Nice.

Now, those unfamiliar with jazz are often critical of the path we follow

implying that jazz is anachronistic, inward looking,

self-indulgent and irrelevant.

Arseholes.

They say that jazz doesn't respond creatively to current

socio-political events.

Here to challenge that notion is an outfit, combo

or indeed line-up that contains the cream of European jazz.

Clam on base, Pedro Molesso on trumpet,

Salvatore Strombelli on piano,

Sven Goran Olafsen on congos.

Pierre du Bois on guitar,

and the Right Honourable Sir Leonard Chichester Plumpton Smith on drums.

A huge diversion from their first album, Stop Your Tickling Jock.

This piece is from their album

Arab Spring, European Summer, Japanese Nuclear Winter.

They're called Quantitative Easing,

and they've got their fingers on the political pulse.

Radical.

CHAOTIC MUSIC

Oh-ho!

-Oh-ho!

-Oh!

Oo-oh!

Bit of Michael McIntyre there, Doreen.

Oh, I love Michael McIntyre.

I love all comedy, Doreen.

As you know, I am something of an aficionado.

"I'm a aficionado.

"I'm a aficionado."

SHE LAUGHS: I love comedy too, Colin.

Oh, "I'm the only gay in the village."

"I'm the only gay in the village."

No, no. Can I just stop you there, Doreen.

A - women just aren't funny...

B - Little Britain was years ago, and

C - never ever ruin a classic comedy

by doing endless impersonations of it around the office.

Yeah, sorry, Colin.

You know, Doreen. I'm s-s-sorry, Doreen.

I'm thorry.

I'm th...thorry.

I'm s-s-sorry. I'm th...th...

HE MUMBLES WITH LISP

You know, Doreen, sometimes

sorry seems to be the hardest word.

THEY LAUGH

Oh, I don't know how you come up with all this stuff.

Well, you know, Doreen.

When you've watched as much comedy as I have

some of it's bound to rub off on you.

Oh, what's that?

Ugh. I'm sorry, Doreen. I have some comedy on my arm.

Oh!

THEY LAUGH

So, who's your favourite then, Colin?

Oh, no contest, Doreen. No, no.

The don, the godfather, the bishop, the burgermeister,

the veritable king of comedy is...

DOES DRUM ROLL

..Sir Ricky of Gervais.

Take a bow, Sir Ricky.

"Are you having a laugh?. Are you having a laugh?

"Are you having a laugh?

"Mind the bus. Yeah?

-"I'm also a friend."

-Yeah.

Mm? Yeah, yeah?

Comic Relief?

Be nice to people, look after them even if they're dwarves or cripples.

Oh, not allowed to say that, are we?

Call them disabled now, don't we?

Yeah. Here, have a little look. Here, watch this.

Yeah, you'll recognise this.

HE HUMS

Oh, not again, Colin.

HE CONTINUES HUMMING

"Don't mention the war, Sybil!

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.

"Play it cool, Trig."

-Ouch!

-Oh, you're very funny, Colin.

-VOICEOVER:

-John Akhtar plays a tough...

-It's me!

Mum!

Mum!

We took a Petri dish and introduced the solution of sulphuric acid

with which we mixed some belladonna.

To this we added 10 cubic centimetres

of ethyl bromoacetate or tear gas...

HE LAUGHS

..and a further 10ml of chlorine.

We then froze the compound to absolute zero and then heated

it to 8,000 degrees Celsius and transformed it into a gas,

which we fired through a carbon wall at Mach 14,

directly into a Nazi stormtrooper's helmet.

We encased the resulting concrete, coated it in marzipan

and finally, when Heston approved it,

we put it on the menu.

Didn't we, Dave?

Don't worry, Mama,

I will not break up the estate.

This house is in my blood and in my bones.

However, I will honour all agreements.

I do not intend to fight the entail.

Now...

it's complicated but there is a way forward.

Lady Mary must marry the duke.

It is then only a matter of...

Oh.

I'm sorry, I've just come.

As I was saying...

Were Lady Mary to marry the duke, then...

Oh.

I'm sorry, I've just come again.

CLEARS THROAT

Lady Mary... Oh.

Oh.

The thing is, love, birds like you are bombarded wherever you go

with images of beautiful young girls.

And you think, "I can't possibly live up to that.

"I'm going to have a bit of cake."

What you don't realise is, us blokes,

we're bombarded with the same images of beautiful young girls

on the telly, magazines, tube trains, everywhere.

And we can't sleep with them.

So we have a bit of cake, too.

There's no winners.

Except Mr Kipling.

Ciao, Edoardo, come stai?

HE SPEAKS IN ITALIAN

I wouldn't really know about that, sir.

I'm sorry, Ted.

I was using you as something of a guinea pig to try out my Italian on.

Do you like Italian, Ted?

I quite like a Domino's American hot, sir.

I'm more of a four seasons man myself.

Quattro stagioni.

It really is the most expressive language, Ted.

I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying my evening classes.

It's a language of song, and opera, of love, death, intrigue,

sexual passion.

We've a b-bad case of nematode w-worms in the sheep, sir.

Nematode worms. Yes, yes.

Ted...um, I happen to have a couple of tickets for...

La Boheme at the Royal Opera House. Do you...?

Do you like La Boheme, Ted?

I wouldn't really know about that, sir.

Your tiny hand is frozen.

Sorry, sir.

No, it's a...

It's from La Boheme, Ted. Really is the most beautiful aria.

Never mind, Ted.

But, you know that...

there is something I feel I can...

say more easily to you now in Italian than I ever could in English.

-Ted, I...

-Right, sir...

I'm going to flipping well do it. It's been too long, Ted.

HE SPEAKS IN ITALIAN

Too bloody right.

That field's been a problem for far too long.

HE SHOUTS IN ITALIAN

E un uomo.