Concealed Sharp Objects The Wright Way

Mr Wright, before, apropos and vis-a-vis your demonstration safety,

introduce, allow me to, Cheryl, my assistant personal, new.

Assistant personal, Mr Mayor? Blimey, that's posh.

I'm an IVP, Mr Wright.

An Important Very Person.

And Important Very People have assistants personal.

Do I know you, Cheryl? I'm sure we've met.

Doubt it... Maybe... Whatever.

I've met you, though. You're the queue nutter.

Actually, Cheryl, on the previous occasions we met,

I held the moral high ground.

But I really think you might put the unpleasantness behind you.

-Not the first time you've heard that, I'll bet!

-I beg your pardon?

Inappropriate. I've read the leaflet.

Don't forget our dance practice tomorrow lunchtime, Mr Mayor.

-Yes, well...

-Cha-cha-cha.

Please proceed, Mr Wright. Wright, Mr, proceed. Please.

Pleasure with, Mr Mayor. Pleasure with. Witness Citizen A.

A hypothetical member of our pavement-using community.

Malika, if you will.

As you can see,

Citizen A perambulates our notional pavement without mishap.

Let us consider Citizen B. Clive, if you will.

Don't neglect to check for any hardened

or lumpy protrusions in your trousers.

Actually, I do have a lumpy protrusion in my trousers.

I ensure that all our officers carry a Maglite torch, Mr Mayor.

The Health and Safety Officer's friend.

In your own time, Clive.

HE HUMS

Oh, no! I've tripped!

Argh!

Citizen down! Citizen down!

Close the road!

Chopper in paramedics!

Offer counselling,

announce an inquiry.

No, no, please, don't be alarmed.

This is actually a secure demonstration.

An Assessment Risk-Safe Enactment.

Acronymically,

an A-R-S-E.

For Heightened Observation of Levels of Endangerment.

H-O-L-E.

So what you're looking at here is an ARSE-HOLE.

Let us analyse the contents of my arsehole.

What, we ask, is the essential difference between Citizen A,

who perambulates our notional pavement in perfect safety,

and Citizen B, who fell into conjectural heavy traffic

and is now being hypothetically airlifted

to a speculative spinal unit?

Citizen B, an idiot is?

Shoelaces!

Citizen A has them securely tied.

Citizen B has them trailing.

Conclusion - shoelaces can kill.

All shoelaces sold in Baselricky

should carry a clear safety warning.

Plus, we urgently action

a district-wide shoelace awareness campaign,

urging the public to 'Get Knotted!'

Team, with me!

ALL: Why don't you all get knotted?!

Ludicrous! Warning signs, shoe laces on!

I will sanction no such ordinance!

No such ordinance sanction, will I.

Along, Cheryl, come.

You're nutters.

-Don't forget our dance rehearsal, Mr Mayor.

-Ah.

-Tomorrow lunchtime.

I'm bringing in my frock.

-Cha-cha-cha!

-Ha-ha-ha!

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

CHACHACHA MUSIC

And ball change...

No! Switch your feet!

Oh, do the twirl!

Well done, girls!

I reckon, if we keep at it,

you're going to be fine at the Big Ballroom Night.

Have you told your dad yet?

No, not yet, it's going to be a surprise.

I'm seeing it as totally a good rehearsal for our bridal dance,

if we ever get married.

-We've been together nearly a year now, you know, Mum!

-Aw!

A whole year since I first saw you.

Lying there, staring up at me.

From under your mum's toilet.

With a ballcock in your hand.

It's sort of ironic, really.

Yeah, well, you two, just keep practising, eh?

You've only got two weeks.

I'd better be off now, though, I don't want your dad to catch me.

Rushing back to Kyle, eh?

Yes, I am, Sue.

We're going to have a couple of hours of Tantric,

before Call The Midwife.

Ta-ra, Vic!

You know we're totally going to need

-spangly dresses for this dance, don't you?

-I suppose.

I don't know how we're going to afford them.

Are we seriously broke, babes?

We will be, if I get fined at this personal injury tribunal.

-Unless I get a DJ gig.

-Yeah. Absolutely.

-Of course.

-You see! Even YOU don't believe in me any more!

You're just like those mean girls

I went to school with who are trolling me.

Don't say that! Of course I believe in you, babe.

You'll make your fortune in the end.

It's just until then, we have to adopt a budget, that's all.

Really? That sounds a bit weird.

Are you sure that will help?

We have to adopt a budget and be really, really strict with it.

Sozzers, I just don't think that's going to work.

I had one when I was a kid and they respond to kindness.

Also, seeds and nuts.

A budget, Vic, not a budgie!

Oh!

Gerald, could I have moment? It's just...

I'll be bringing my Yvonne to the Ballroom Night, as usual,

and I was wondering if you'd mind giving me a few dance tips?

My Yvonne says she wishes I danced like you do.

Well, I don't really dance any more, Clive,

but I suppose I could give you a tip or two.

How about we give it a go tomorrow lunchtime?

That'd be brilliant. My Yvonne will be ever so grateful.

She says if I ever went on Strictly, Craig Revel Horwood

would pull me straight off.

I really do not get economics.

In fact, I don't believe anybody does.

Just because you don't get something, Vic,

doesn't mean nobody else does.

But they so obviously don't, though.

Like on the news, when there's been a crash

and they're calling it 'Black Monday' or 'Crap Tuesday'

or 'Oh-mah-Gawd Wednesday'

and they're saying they've lost ten trillion pounds.

-Yeah?

-Has anything actually happened, question mark?

What do you mean? They've lost ten trillion pounds.

No, I mean...anything, actually.

Like, has all the yummy food disappeared from M&S,

or has TK Maxx, like, totally evaporated?

Or have all the fields and factories

-disappeared into a parallel universe?

-No...

No! Boom! Your face!

Nothing has actually happened, and yet somehow, overnight,

they've managed to lose ten trillion pounds.

How do you lose ten trillion pounds?

-Well, they....

-Are they thinking back on their day?

Have they checked behind the back of the couch?

It wasn't actually ten trillion pounds, Vic. Not like in coins.

It's a notional value based on share confidence.

There was never any real physical money.

Then why do they care if they've lost it?

-Well, because...

-And if they made it up in the first place,

why don't they just make up some more?

Well, they DO, as it happens. It's called quantitative easing.

Which, oh-mah-Gawd, totally sounds like a laxative.

Look, the value of things

isn't based on what they actually are, Vic,

but on how traders and bankers feel about them.

Well, why don't they just ask more cheerful people?

I'd do it. I'd say, "Oh-mah-Gawd, everthing's amazing!'"

Vic, it's complicated.

You don't get it either.

I do. Sort of.

At least I know it's got nothing to do with budgies.

Evening, girls.

And since you ask, no, I did not have a good day.

The Mayor dismissed me out of hand.

-Not your shoelace campaign?

-He knocked back Get Knotted?

It really is disheartening.

Every day, year in, year out, I'm in that office, beavering away.

You wish!

Vic, beavering doesn't mean what you think it means in this context.

Oh! Sozzers.

And yet I'm no closer to my dream than on the first day

I put on a hard hat and fluoros.

Your own safety warning?

Yes, Sue. The Health and Safety Officer's Holy Grail.

My own personally-authored safety warning.

Printed out and stuck to a product.

I want to make my mark,

like the bloke who put 'contains bleach'

on the bleach bottles.

Or - 'Warning! Concealed sharp objects' on Swiss army knives.

Those men were heroes!

Visionaries!

They identified a previously un-labelled risk

and they labelled it.

You'll get there in the end, Dad.

We keepin' da faith, big man!

Thank you, girls. It means a lot to me.

But I shouldn't be banging on about my troubles, with the problems

you're having with your plumbing business, Susan.

You didn't tell me you had problems with your plumbing business!

I'll pick up some cranberry juice and yoghurt.

-He's talking about me being taken to a tribunal, Vic.

-Oh!

And I hope you know how proud I am of you, Sue.

And whatever happens, there'll always be a room

and a Mini Magnum here for you and Victoria as long as you need it.

Boom! Fulljoy! You big man ting, innit!

You make me breathe easy now, wit yah crawful mad sick swagger!

Meaning, Victoria?

Thanks, heaps. You're so sweet.

Well, I'm being selfish, really.

It's lovely to have you girls around.

I'm not quite ready to live on my own yet, I'm afraid.

You miss Mum a lot, don't you, Dad?

Every day, Susan.

You don't just walk away from a 23-year marriage.

She did.

-Vic!

-Just saying.

Walked away with a younger, fitter man.

And as if to rub salt into the open wound of

my encroaching middle age, the NHS say

they want to check my prostate.

So now I've got to be digitally probed by a complete stranger

-in a public facility.

-I know a couple of guys

who'd say that was the perfect night out.

Well, different strokes for different folks, eh?

Yeah. I think that's the attraction.

And forward...and back...

and turn... Very good, Clive!

Now, the clasp is all about passion.

The gentleman pulls the lady towards him.

So you want me to pull you towards me?

That's right, Clive, lead with your hips,

groin and grind, groin and grind.

Can you feel the passion, Clive?

Groin and grind.

-Can you feel it in your body?

-Yes, Gerald.

Actually, I CAN feel it.

In fact, I think we'd better stop now.

Clive, that's my torch!

Oh.

Blimey, Malika!

Dance practice with the Mayor?

You look lovely.

Tell me something I don't know, big boy.

And rehearsing in full rig?

Really going the extra mile for the big Ballroom Night.

Well, with you and Valerie out of the way, it's bound to be our year.

HE HUMS

HE CHUCKLES

Ready for our dance rehearsal, Mr Mayor?

Yes, well... Busy, rather, am I...

Perhaps another, erm...

Come on, Len! If I'm going to get you up to county standard,

you'll have to pull your finger out.

Oh, hello.

What's going on here?!

Gawd, help us! It's a boob-off!

Where's my clever phone when I need it?!

I know who you are!

You're Cha Cha Cheryl, South East Essex Cha Cha Champ!

Four years straight. You got a problem?

No, you have, love. He's MY partner.

That's not what he says. Is it, Len?

-Len!

-Yes, well...

Along, come, Cheryl. Rehearse, must we.

Cha cha cha!

Ooh! Well done, girls, I'm really pleased!

But I'd better be off now,

I don't want to bump into Gerald and give the game away.

He's going to be late. He texted me to say

he's having coffee with a woman after work.

-It wouldn't be Malika, would it, by any chance?

-What if it was?

I always thought he fancied her at the big Ballroom Nights.

He always kept trying to press her to a cheesy nibble.

I do know he admired her mambos.

-It certainly wasn't her dancing!

-Ouch! Boom!

Give that bitch a saucer of milk!

Pot of tea for two.

-You see, Malika?

-I do see, Gerald.

Is there anything wrong, sir?

Yes, Miss. That tea pot is made entirely of metal.

-Metal is an efficient conductor of heat.

-And tea is hot.

-Do you see where we're going here?

-Can I get you anything else?

-Yes!

You can get me a bandage and some Savlon for when

I lose all the skin on my hand, trying to pour myself a cuppa.

Another danger in need of a warning.

You see! The cup-avoiding spout.

When the pot is tilted, the tea goes straight down the side

-and all over the table.

-They have them in service stations.

The entire motorway system is awash with tea.

They can do keyhole surgery on the ventricles of the heart via

microscopic incisions made in the belly button,

but they cannot get the tea from the pot into the cup.

And now it's dripping all over the floor.

A simple spillage is turning into a trip hazard!

Textbook! We are one missed step away from spinal injuries.

Stand back, everybody! We have a spillage.

-Miss, where are your yellow markers?

-What?

-To secure the area.

Every business where liquids are deployed

is required by statute to carry yellow collapsible trestles

depicting a man falling over in a triangle. Where are yours?

I thought they only had them in supermarket aisles.

Yes, because that would make sense, wouldn't it?

Because a broken neck is so much more serious in a supermarket aisle

-than it is when you're having a coffee!

-Ooh!

Where are your yellow markers, depicting a man falling over in a triangle?!

I don't know! I'll just mop it up, shall I?

Just mop it up?! Just mop it up?!

And while you're just mopping up an area of wet floor

which you have failed to secure with yellow markers, depicting a man

falling over in a triangle, a small child,

a granny, or a member of our specially sighted community slips,

bounces over the cash till, and is decapitated on the bacon slicer!

-I never thought!

-No, people never do, Miss.

Fortunately for you, the council is here to do your thinking for you.

Mop?

The area is now secured, Miss,

you may proceed to mop with caution.

-I want a hat!

-Oh, give it 'ere!

I must say, Malika, the way we're dealing with this emergency

could be recorded for a training film.

We make a terrific team.

That's why I suggested we have this coffee, actually.

Because we work so well together. In unison. Synchronised.

-Almost like...

-Dancers.

-I want you for the ballroom night!

-MAN CRIES OUT

You see?!

A member of the specially sighted community has slipped on the spillage

caused by an inadequate spout.

No, he didn't, he tripped over YOUR triangle!

So we'll rehearse tomorrow evening, then?

-Or we could start right now, big boy.

-Pardon?

Ooh, Gerald. I must say...

you've still got the passion.

Yes, Malika, I do have the passion.

Although, for the record...

..that's my Maglite.

Girls, I've got news!

I'm going to dance at the Ballroom Night, after all!

I'm taking Malika.

Way to go, big guy! Word is...

that babe is HOT!

This is all about dancing. Look...

I've bought myself a new dancing shirt!

Brilliant! Let's see it on, then!

-Let's see it on!

-All in good time, Susan.

You will get...

a full display.

Just let me get my metal detector.

Metal detector?!

Pins, Susan, pins!

With new shirts,

constant vigilance is required.

No matter how many you take out,

there's always one left

to spear you in the nipple.

Believe me, I learned the hard way.

I was once impaled on a British Home Stores

cotton and acrylic semi-formal sports casual.

Nasty business, led to a septic nipple.

Quick buzz with the detector.

MACHINE BLEEPS

All clear!

Oh, this is beautiful!

I love a bit of faux satin.

There's nothing like the feel of

stretch-rayon-blend, double-knit fabric

clinging to the contours of the navel.

Agh! Blimey! I missed one!

You had it set to "semi-precious", Dad.

Pins are made of steel.

-And now I've got blood on it!

-Oh, it'll dry-clean.

-There's that four-hour place by the Town Hall.

-Hang on, though...

Oh, my sainted blimey! This is it.

-What?

-Don't you see? Pins, girls, pins!

This is what I've been waiting for.

An unidentified risk, in need of a warning!

The Holy Grail has stabbed me in the nipple!

Let's see the Mayor say no to this one!

The Mayor knocked back my new initiative. No nipple is safe.

The man's a menace. Him and his slapper!

And look, the danger is everywhere.

This cleaning ticket is attached with a concealed pin.

-And now I don't know what to do with it.

-Give it 'ere.

-Right.

-MUSIC PLAYS SOFTLY

Now, let's dance!

Me and Val always used to warm up with a two-step.

You're not dancing with her now, Gerald.

You're dancing with me, and I want to feel your torch!

Oh! Lovely, girls.

Let's have a glass of wine, that should loosen the Cha Chas.

Won't your dad be back soon?

No. Guess what? He's rehearsing too.

Right now, with Malika.

They're going to dance at the Ballroom Night.

-But she dances with the Mayor!

-The Mayor dumped her.

-Really?

-I never knew he had that much taste!

-Not jealous, are you, Mum?

Jealous?! Of course I'm not jealous! He's single now.

Mum, do you love Kyle?

Love him? Well, I certainly love being with him.

-Do you think he loves you?

-Well, he certainly says

lots of sweet things...

-Duh! Kyle's in love with a guy.

-A guy called KYLE, Mum!

And no-one will ever be able to compete with him.

Well, I have noticed that when we're...

he does like to shout his own name.

"COME ON, KYLE!"

We made a sex tape the other day.

-You never?!

-Oh, don't worry, love. I'm not in it!

He made me hold the camera.

And...one, two, three.

One, two, three...

-Now, at this point, with Valerie...

-Gerald,

so far, you've told me how Valerie did the rhumba,

the jive, the single swing, the Hustle and the Lindy!

Maybe you want to tell me what she used to wear as well?

Well, normally, she used to wear a glitter knit,

-but sometimes, a Solid Slinky...

-Gerald...

I want to ask you something. Why did you buy me that scarf

-for my birthday?

-Well, um...

Because I thought it would be nice...

Do you want to know why I think you bought it?

-And why you agreed to dance with me when I asked you?

-Why?

Because you're trying to find a way to get over Valerie.

-No, really...

-Because you still love her!

-No, Malika, honestly...

-You do! And I know these things

because I'm a very spiritual person!

I was once a handmaiden to the goddess Lakshmi.

You still love her and you don't want to dance with anyone but her.

And do you know what? I don't think you should dance with anyone else.

-Really?

-Because when you danced with Valerie, you were poetry in motion.

And when you dance with me, to be frank, you're crap.

-Oh.

-It's just not going to work out, Gerald.

I can't dance with a man who's dancing with another woman

while he's dancing with me!

-Good day, Dad?

-Not really, as it happens.

The Mayor's called a disciplinary meeting for tomorrow morning.

Malika's dropped me.

And what's more, I have just tripped over a highly dangerous curb outside

and my Maglite's gone down the drain!

-I've lost my torch.

-Malika's dropped you? Why?

Because I'm not over Valerie, and she knew it.

Boom! Westside! I is one mad sick girl!

-What?

-Me got me Bashy Bashment!

Me be chatty-chatty wit da yute an' they say, come soon,

mash up mi' dub an' mak some fierce noize!

Kill mi' dead! I is likky-likky for it!

-You've got a gig at the local youth club?!

-Yes!

How did you know that?!

Shoelaces, dangerous!

Pins, lethal concealed!

This department, a stock laughing is becoming.

Notice, give I, Mr Wright!

No more ludicrous, spurious so-called initiatives safety

tolerate, will I! That is all! And all, is that!

That's a nice shirt you're wearing, Mr Mayor.

I chose it. It's his new dance shirt.

Always wear I new shirts in, Mrs Maha,

to ensure movement sufficient in the arms, thereof.

Oh, look, there's a smut on your shirt. Let me....

ARGH!

Nipple, mine!

Pain stabbing in nipple mine!

Ah! It's a pin!

I hope he's had a tetanus shot!

Even the tiniest prick can be dangerous!

As the actress said to the Boy Scout!

Inappropriate, I know.

THAT is a new shirt! You left a pin in there!

You've been stabbed by a concealed sharp object!

Why weren't you WARNED?!

Point proven, I think, Mayor Mr.

It seems shirts dangerous are, all after.

Hello? What are you two up to?

Well, we didn't want to tell you,

but Mum's been giving me and Vic dancing lessons.

Me workin' mah foxy cha cha wit me bashy-bashy drop legs!

We were going to surprise you by dancing at the Ballroom Night,

but the thing is, since you haven't got a partner any more,

we thought it'd be nice if I danced with you.

Only if you'd like.

Oh, Susan, that would be...

wonderful. I can't think of ANYTHING I'd like more.

-DOORBELL RINGS

-I'll get it.

It's very sweet of you to lend me your partner, Victoria.

Well, I'm totes busy mixing my phat beats for my debut gig.

So excited!

It's Malika from work, Dad.

I had to rush round, Gerald! They've arrived!

I picked THIS one up on the High Street.

'WARNING! THIS SHIRT MAY CONTAIN PINS.'

Blimey!

My own personally authored safety warning.

Look, girls! My dream came true.

And I owe it all to you, Malika.

Well, I told you I'd find somewhere

to stick that dry-cleaning pin, didn't I?

Nobody dumps Mambos Malika Maha!

Thank you, thank you.

This is... the greatest day of my career.

Come here, you!

Ooh, Gerald, I can still feel that torch!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd