Christmas Special Walliams & Friend

Good evening. I am the head of the BBC,

and before your scheduled programme, I want to make an apology.

I'd like to apologise for everything the BBC has done,

everything the BBC hasn't done,

everything the BBC did do but shouldn't have,

everything the BBC didn't do but should have,

but, most importantly, everything the BBC couldn't do because

it was too busy apologising.

At times like this we should remember

the five key values of the BBC -

inform, educate, entertain, apologise, resign.

So I hereby resign with immediate effect. Goodbye.

Good evening. I'm the new head of the BBC,

and the first thing I'd like to do is apologise

for the over-apologising of my predecessor.

I'm profoundly sorry and am left with no choice

but to immediately resign.

Goodbye.

Good evening. Sorry, I resign.

-BOTH:

-Good evening and welcome to Double Or Nothing,

the only game show on TV with two hosts.

-I'm Christopher Dickinson Edwards...

-I'm Sam Snell...

-BOTH:

-And with me as always is...

-Christopher Dickinson Edwards.

-Sam Snell.

So, could our first contestant join us on the hotspot, please?

GAME SHOW MUSIC AND WHOOPING

-BOTH:

-What's your name and where do you come from?

I'm Jenny, and I'm from Chichester.

Chichester!

-Lovely part of the country.

-Never been but I hope to soon.

Sorry, what?

And, Jenny, I believe you have a rather interesting job, don't you?

I'm a full-time dog groomer.

Tell you what...

-That's given me "paws" for thought.

-You must be barking!

I didn't get any of that, sorry.

OK, it's time for round one, and the category is...

Sorry, was that rock 'n' roll or Dickens?

Start the clock.

Question one for £100.

THEY READ COMPLETELY DIFFERENT QUESTIONS

I didn't get any of that, sorry.

BUZZER

Oh, it was an easy one!

The answer was, of course...

-A Christmas Carol.

-I Want To Hold Your Hand.

Question two...

THEY READ COMPLETELY DIFFERENT QUESTIONS

Erm, Rolling Stones?

-Correct!

-Incorrect.

-You win £100.

-You lose £100.

Question three...

Complete the following popular title, Great...

Erm, I don't know. Great... Great Balls Of...

..Expectations?

So close, but incorrect.

So, at the end of Round One, you have no pounds.

I just feel like this is a little bit unfair.

I mean, why would you do a show where you're asked two completely

different questions at the same time?

Simple - we get through twice as many questions as any other game show.

Is that a good thing?

So far this series we've only had to pay out £200.

But how am I supposed to get anything right?

THEY SIGH

How about during the next round, only one of us asks the questions

and the other one stays quiet?

Yeah, that would work.

Great. Then for the next round,

you ask the questions and I'll stay absolutely silent.

OK.

CLOCK TICKS

Sorry, is one of you going to ask me a question, or...

I thought you were going to ask the questions.

GONG BANGS

Oh! That noise means it's the end of the quiz.

Tonight, Jenny, you're going home with no pounds.

-This is madness!

-Well, that's all we have time for today.

-We're back at the same time...

-We're back at a different time...

-..next Thursday.

-..next Tuesday.

And, as we always say on Double Or Nothing...

There's no trouble when you see double.

Double the questions, double the fun.

Goodnight.

This Christmas, opera boyband Il Prima Donnas return with

their brand-new album, Il Prima Donnas Sing The Prodigy.

Get off your melon to their touching rendition of Firestarter.

# I'm the firestarter, twisted firestarter... #

Cut some shapes and get right on it to Il Prima Donna's

passionate interpretation of Breathe.

# Breathe the pressure Come play my game, I'll test ya

# Psychosomatic addict, insane

# Come play my game

-# Inhale, inhale

-You're the victim... #

And have it large to Il Prima Donna's a cappella reimagining of

the techno classic Everybody In The Place.

# Do, do, do Dibby, dibby, dibby, do, do, do

-# Everybody's in the place

-Let's go

-# Everybody's in the place

-Let's go

-# Everybody's in the place

-Let's go

-# Everybody's in the place

-Let's go... #

Have it proper large this Christmas

with a festive album for all the family.

Il Prima Donnas Sing The Prodigy.

# I got the poison, I got the remedy

# I got the pulsating rhythmical remedy

# I got the poison, I got the remedy

# I got the pulsating rhythmical remedy. #

-Master Wayne...

-Yes, Alfred?

It pains me to say, Gotham City has become a cesspit

of crime and depravity.

Someone has to act.

And that someone is you.

But to do that, you must become the thing you fear the most.

Welsh.

What?

The Welsh. I've always felt distinctly uneasy

walking through Swansea on a Saturday night.

No, I was thinking of something else, Master Wayne,

something that used to terrify you as a young boy.

Balloons.

No, it wasn't balloons.

-Foreigners.

-No.

Girls with hairy armpits.

-No.

-Public speaking.

-No...

-Accidentally saying something racist on Twitter?

-No.

-Intimacy?

-No.

-Late-onset diabetes.

-No.

-Dying in rented accommodation?

-No.

-Men with beards.

-No.

-Women with beards?

-No.

-A chicken that's not been properly cooked on a barbecue

so it's black on the outside but pink in the middle?

-No.

-Sitting in wet trunks and getting a rash

underneath your nut sack?

-No.

-The shark in Finding Nemo?

If I may stop you there, Master Wayne...

Farting but following through?

No.

Do you remember the fateful night when you were a mere boy and you

fell down that well and were attacked by a colony of bats?

Hmm...

Don't remember that, no.

-Oh.

-HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Well, trust me, you were very scared at the time,

and if you are to seize your destiny and be the saviour of Gotham City,

you must become that thing you fear the most.

A pipe smoker?

No, a bat, a giant bat, and you could call yourself

The Batman.

No. Fancy that! I'd look silly.

Well, I am a little disappointed, Master Wayne,

because I've rather run away with the bat theme.

For the last few years I've been digging a bat cave in the basement.

I've made you a bat suit, I've build you a Batmobile,

not to mention a bat copter and a bat bike,

and I'm working on a bat boat for any nautical adventures.

So it has to be something that I and the dark forces of Gotham City

-fear the most?

-Precisely, Master Wayne.

Getting aroused in public.

If you'll excuse me, sir, I think I'm going to be rather busy on eBay.

The Apprentice is back,

and the challenges are tougher than ever.

OK, teams, this week's task is...

I want you to teach a dog to play piano.

I want you to turn lead into gold.

This week's task is to make lasting peace between North and South Korea.

I want you to make Karren Brady levitate.

No less than ten foot in the air.

Your task is to remake the Lord Of The Rings trilogy.

On a budget of £100.

I want you to make this Amstrad

the number one selling computer in the world.

I want you to turn Claude gay.

Not bi-curious - full-on gay.

I want you to blast a penguin into space.

This week's task is to move the continent of Africa

one foot to the left.

That's South America, Lord Sugar.

It's all foreign - who cares?

I want you to write a song as haunting and beautiful

as John Lennon's Imagine.

On the bagpipes.

SHE PLAYS BADLY

This week, your task is to read every book ever written and tell

me what they're all about.

You've got 45 minutes.

You have to hold your breath for an hour.

Take this coat hanger and stick it up your nose.

Rewrite the questions in Trivial Pursuit...

..so they're all about me.

I want you to make a life-size Taj Mahal out of milk.

This week, you've got the hardest task of the series.

I want you to untie this knot in my headphones.

The Apprentice, coming soon on BBC One.

I want you to turn Piers Morgan into soup.

Nothing to do with the show, I just want you to do it.

The new work-out video just for dads.

Featuring all your favourite dad-dance moves.

From waving your hands whilst not moving anything else.

Marching on the spot.

# It's all too beautiful... #

# The boys are back in town... #

The Macarena, even though the Macarena isn't on.

DISCO MUSIC PLAYS

The "are you sure your dad's not gay?"

MUSIC: Come On Eileen by Dexy's Midnight Runners

The "for God's sake, will someone please join me on the dance floor?"

The "thinking you're Diversity."

MUSIC: Radio Ga Ga by Queen

The "clapping out of time."

The touching tribute to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson.

GLASS SMASHES

MUSIC: Wannabe by Spice Girls

The "pulling your pants out of your crack

"whilst pretending it's a dance move".

The "oh, no, they've worked out

"a routine and they think they're hilarious".

MUSIC: Do The Conga by Black Lace

The "not quite enough people for a conga".

# ..I'll keep holding on... #

The "are you really sure your dad's not gay?".

MUSIC: Insomnia by Faithless

The "flashback to Ibiza".

The Dad Dancing Workout DVD -

guaranteed to embarrass your whole family.

Good morning, Miss Britton, welcome to the flight.

-Would you like a hot towel?

-No, thank you.

Please, Fern, let me handle this.

I'm Miss Britton's personal PA assistant and I would appreciate if

all future personal enquiries were directed through me.

-It's fine, really.

-No, Fern, it's not fine.

Would Miss Britton like a glass of champagne?

-Yes, please.

-Fern,

the rather aggressive stewardess has asked if you'd like a glass

-of champagne.

-And I said, yes.

I've spoken at length with Miss Britton about the offer of a glass

of champagne and she has replied,

yes, she would like a glass of champagne.

Vintage. Quickly, please.

Quickly, quickly!

-What are you doing?

-I'm giving her the glass of champagne.

Don't give it to her, give it to me.

I will ensure she receives it.

Mmm, that's very good champagne.

Another three glasses of champagne, please, quickly.

And is there a lunch menu?

Let me handle this.

Miss Britton is incandescent with rage that so far she has been on

this flight for 30 minutes and no-one has offered her a lunch menu.

I hardly need remind you that Miss Britton is the star of

Ready Steady Cook, This Morning and is a regular team captain

on Celebrity Juice.

No, that's Fearne Cotton.

Please, Fern, try and control your anger.

Bring her that menu, now!

We'll bring the menus round shortly.

But, but, shortly's not good enough!

Miss Britton has not eaten for over an hour.

Honestly, I can wait.

Miss Britton says, unless you bring her that menu this instant,

she will force-feed you the in-flight magazine.

If you don't stop being so aggressive,

we're going to have to get you restrained.

Well, I actually enjoy being restrained,

so that may very well backfire.

Justin, I really don't like people being talked to like that.

I know. She was so rude, wasn't she?

You wanted to see me, Speccy?

Yes, I did, Barry. We've had a lot of complaints in the factory that

you've been making offensive comments about your co-workers.

Well, it's just a bit of banter, isn't it?

Not all the staff see it that way.

-For example, Philip.

-What, Fatso Phil?

-He loves a bit of banter.

-No, he does not.

He was actually very offended when you came up to him in the canteen

and said, "Your overeating is clearly a displacement activity

"for the emptiness you feel inside."

Banter! That's why they call me Barry Banter.

Sit down! Nobody calls you Barry Banter.

They all do. Deaf Dave, Stumpy Joe, Bug-eyed Brian, Prosthetic Pauline,

-Shaggy Sharon.

-Sharon was extremely hurt when you came up to her

and said, "Your promiscuous behaviour masks your deep-rooted

"lack of self-esteem and

"you are heading into a downward spiral of loneliness."

Banter! I was on fire that day.

It's not banter if the other person is offended by it.

That's the best kind of banter.

I've had Carol in here this morning, in floods of tears,

and we all know how important Carol's faith is to her.

-Happy Clappy Carol.

-Yes.

Why did you say to her...

"There is no God and what awaits you for when you die is not heaven but

"instead, a black empty void of nothingness"?

Banter! Top banter, that.

Think about it - that's quite philosophical banter.

That is not banter.

No offence, Specsavers, but I don't think you even know what banter means.

Look it up in your Pictionary.

B-A-N-T-A, Banter.

You can't even spell it.

I have dyslexia so that is actually very offensive.

Well, I'm terribly sorry.

Shut up, that was banter!

I don't have dyslexia - I'm just thick.

Look, Barry,

a lot of people are upset and they've put together this petition.

100 signatures demanding that I take action, so I'm afraid to say,

you're sacked.

Epic banter!

I love it. Now, he's got it.

No, you really are sacked.

Keep the banter coming!

Ah, Barry Banter's got some competition here.

Ding-ding! Welcome aboard the banter bus!

Your contract has been terminated with immediate effect

and here's your P45.

Not as snappy, that one, but still...banter!

Right, see you Monday, you short-sighted prick!

Our celebrities have now spent years in prison against their will,

but at last, not that they know it, tonight is the finale,

which is a foreign word for "final".

This is the reality show you should be ashamed to be watching.

Welcome to Celebrity Slammer.

It's Christmas Day.

Or as our celebrity inmates know it, day 5,475.

After breaking the terms of his parole,

Christopher Biggins has been forced to return to the slammer.

I can't take it any more.

Christmas is a really special time for me.

I'm meant to be in Scunthorpe doing panto.

Or as a standby guest on Loose Women in case Gino D'Acampo cancelled.

Worst of all, I've missed a lunch with my best friend,

Dame Joan Collins.

At Nando's.

Moments later, Christopher Biggins has sharpened his toothbrush and

taken the prison governor hostage.

Don't do anything stupid, Biggins.

These are my demands.

First, I want out of this awful show

and then I want a retrospective Oscar

for my performance in The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

I want my collection of Widow Twankey dresses to be put on display

in the Victoria and Albert Museum for future generations to enjoy.

I want a film to be made about my life called

Biggins: The Man, The Myth, The Legend,

with me played by Zac Efron.

You know, I didn't think Biggins would be the first one to crack.

No, nor me. I thought maybe Bob Carolgees would be the first one

to go doolally. I mean, he has been

talking to that puppet dog for 40 years.

Puppet? What puppet?

Spit the Dog is a puppet.

Why do you think he has his hand up his backside?

Oh, I didn't like to ask.

It gets to everybody in the end, though.

I imagine Christopher Biggins has been missing his wife.

Ye... Wife?

Barry, there's something I ought to tell you.

Oh.

Back in Cell D, several hours later,

Christopher Biggins is still listing his demands.

I want the results of Celebrity MasterChef's 2014 series to be

declared null and void, and me to be crowned rightful champion.

There are pictures of me sunbathing topless

in Marbella on the Mail Online

and I'd like the comments disabled.

I want Madame Tussauds to melt down their waxwork of Dale Winton

and turn it into one of me.

And finally, I want to be in Poldark.

Not the show...the man.

Oh, he's wriggled free...

No, please, no!

-Anything but that.

-Time for my final visit to Celebrity Slammer.

With some exciting news.

Merry Christmas, inmates.

THEY MUTTER

How are we all?

Can I just say something?

On behalf of my fellow celebrities and Bob Carolgees.

This show is an absolute disgrace.

We've been locked up in here for years.

I've seen things in this prison no-one should ever see.

I've seen the Chuckle Brothers taking a shower.

You did insist on helping us wash.

That's not the point. In the middle of the night,

I had a bite taken out of me by Spit the Dog because he was so hungry and

now I think I've got rabies.

That wasn't the dog, it was me.

Worst of all, the only nice thing I've had to eat

in 15 years was a fun-size Mars bar, which, afterwards,

I found out had been smuggled in here

in a part of Christopher Biggins' anatomy.

I wondered where that went.

Come on, Dermot. It's Christmas, for goodness' sake.

We demand out of the show.

-Yes?

-Yes!

I rather like it here - I've never had so much sex.

Well, David, I've got some news.

The BBC have cancelled Celebrity Slammer.

-ALL:

-Yes!

Freedom at last.

But don't worry, it's been sold to Channel 5.

Which means no-one will be leaving the Celebrity Slammer and you will

all remain here in prison.

The only difference is, because it's on Channel 5,

no-one will be watching.

However, I can reveal that we are about to welcome a new inmate

to the slammer.

I can now reveal that the new inmate is...

..Vernon Kay. What?

What, there must be a mistake.

No, hang on, I'm worth more than all these put together!

-Easy!

-Hello, celebrity inmates, welcome.

How are you? Welcome to Channel 5's Celebrity Slammer.

I'm your new host, Joe Swash, and over the next 20 years,

we're going to be following the horrendous ordeal of life in

celebrity prison. Celebrities, I'll see you next Christmas.

Namaste.

Welcome, one and all, to my stress reduction class.

I'm Guru Dave and I'd like to start today, as we should every day,

with a moment of mindfulness.

Let's find our inner peace.

Why don't we all close our eyes and focus on our breathing?

CAR ALARM BLARES

For God's sake, can you turn that thing off?!

I can't find my keys, can I?

Tell me when you do, mate.

-CALMLY:

-Keep your eyes closed.

I swear, I'm going to stick it where the sun don't shine!

ALARM STOPS

Excellent.

Good. Well, that was very healing.

Now, our goal today is to find a sanctuary from stress, but what sort

of things can bring stress on?

Hands up.

Work colleagues.

I said, hands up!

There has to be a system, otherwise it's just chaos!

-CALMLY:

-Please share.

-Money.

-Oh, yes, money, that's a very common source of stress.

Let's pop that on the board, shall we?

HE SIGHS

Some selfish shit has left the lid off and now the bastard thing's

dried up! Yeah, and I suppose this one...

Oh, no, this one works perfectly.

-Family problems?

-I haven't even finished writing money yet.

Don't let them get to you, Dave.

That's a good one.

Family. OK.

Are there any others? Yeah, Phil?

-Work colleagues.

-Work colleagues, yeah, yeah.

Especially ones that are so selfish,

they don't put the bloody lids back on the pens!

I think there should be an A in "colleagues".

Oh, strewth, what is this, cocking Countdown?

Thank you for your contribution.

No, the A should be...

-What?

-No, I was just going to say...

What?

It's just that you put...

What?

Nothing.

Good.

Now, on the very rare occasions that I get stressed,

and even I get stressed sometimes,

whether it's because of money or family problems or work colleagues,

I like to just take a moment and remove myself from the situation

and listen to some calming whale song.

ROCK MUSIC PLAYS

My bloody assistant, why has she put the wrong CD in the box?

Why is she trying to ruin my life?

And calm, and centred, and breathe, and it's gone.

How dare you shout at me through the window like that!

You shouldn't park there.

It's for staff only.

I am staff, I run the anger management class,

-you fat, ugly turd!

-Stop shouting at me,

there's so many things going on in my head.

I can shout at whoever I like!

And calm, and centre, and breathe.

And manage that anger.

Can't we resolve this like enlightened adults?

-A punch-up in the car park?

-I'd love to.

And breathe in...

and hold it.

We will now have the eulogy,

which will be delivered by the daughter of the departed, Susan.

I just want to say a few words about my dad.

To who I owe so much...

-Erm, excuse me.

-Yes?

At the risk of sounding pedantic, it's "to whom" I owe so much,

not "to who".

-Is it?

-Who is a subject pronoun,

your father is evidently the object of the sentence,

so therefore one should use the object pronoun, namely whom.

Pray, continue.

Where to begin? There's so many things we all loved about...

There ARE so many things, plural.

First I'd like to start...

-Erm, "firstly".

-What?

Firstly is more formal, so...

I can't believe you're interrupting me.

Everyone here is completely disinterested

-in what you have to say.

-It is uninterested.

Disinterested means impartial.

One has to respect the departed, not to mention the English language.

More than anything else, I remember my father's sense of humour.

Whether he was at work or down the local pub,

he would always be holding court.

People would literally laugh their heads off.

I doubt it.

-What?

-I doubt they would literally laugh their heads off.

Their heads would have become detached from their bodies.

It seems highly unlikely that your father would ever have said anything

-THAT funny.

-Vicar, you and me are going to fall out.

You and "I", let's not forget our personal pronouns

on a day such as today.

For goodness' sake, you're putting me off!

No, I'm not putting you off,

that would end a sentence with a preposition.

I'm being off-putting.

How dare you do this to me? I am grieving.

That is my father down there.

"Was", past tense, he's dead.

You've ruined today for everybody.

Now, you just lay there and think about what you've done.

Not lay, lie.

You shouldn't use the transitive.

Agh!

Hi, I'm Cora, Countess of Grantham.

Now that the doors of Downton Abbey have closed forever,

I find myself with plenty of time to endorse products I truly believe in.

Like this high-class ready meal.

Pot Banquet.

It's as easy as one, two, three.

One, ask your butler for a Pot Banquet.

Can I please have a Pot Banquet?

Two, ask your butler to choose from one of five mouthwatering flavours.

Foie Gras, Bombay Goose, Barbecue Swan,

Pigeon Flambe or Shredded Fox.

Three, ask your butler to pour on boiling champagne.

It's so easy, you could almost do it yourself,

except that would be demeaning.

And voy-la. Thank you.

Pot Banquet, only 99.99,

and available now at your local Harrods.

Good, so the forecast for the next quarter is looking favourable.

Now, I know we're running into lunch but we really couldn't finish today

without paying our respects to Sir Nicholas Caville,

who founded this company in 1976.

None of us would be here without him so I think it's only fitting

that we honour him with a minute's silence.

Sir Nicholas Caville.

ZIPPER OPENS LOUDLY

BOTTLE OPENS LOUDLY

BOTTLES FIZZES

CRISP PACKET RUSTLES

CRUNCHING

THUMP!

LID POPS OPEN

CRUNCH!

THEY CLATTER

Thank you.

I know we'll all miss Sir Nicholas but none more than you, Bill.

Would you like to say a few words about your late father?

Welcome to the show that was formerly known as Double Or Nothing.

Following a number of complaints about the quiz being confusing,

we've listened to you and changed the number of presenters.

So, welcome to...

-ALL:

-..Triple Or Nothing!

Good evening. I'm...

THEY EACH SAY THEIR NAME

..and with me tonight...

THEY INTRODUCE EACH OTHER

So, could our first contestant join us on the hotspot, please?

Welcome to Triple Or Nothing, what's your name?

My name is Peter Fracks.

Nice to meet you, Peter...

-Where do you come from?

-What do you do for a living?

I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch any of that.

So, Round One of Triple Or Nothing and the first category is...

THEY ALL INTRODUCE DIFFERENT SUBJECT

Sorry, what was the first one again?

Question one and this is for 100 points...

..in the crystal dome.

So, Peter...

THEY ASK DIFFERENT QUESTIONS

Jessica Ennis-Hill, Georges Seurat and, erm, Dr Dre.

Correct.

Question two, which...

ALL ASK DIFFERENT QUESTION

Ian Thorpe,

the Portal of Rouen Cathedral and Kanye West.

Correct.

Question three...

ALL ASK DIFFERENT QUESTION

Burundi, Renoir and Ol' Dirty Bastard.

Correct.

I always said this new set-up would be too easy.

Let's start again.

Hello and welcome to...

Quadruple Or Nothing.

Welcome back to a special Christmas edition of Middle Class Jeremy Kyle.

Before the break, we heard from Lucinda.

Poor old Lucinda sent a Christmas card to Hermione here

and she never got one back.

AUDIENCE BOOS

But I did send a card back.

Shut your face!

Well, I never received it.

Well, I definitely sent it.

I will not tolerate aggressive behaviour

on my show, have you got it?

I said, have you got it?

Apologies.

So, during the break, we sent Hermione here

to do a lie detector test...

..and the results are in.

We asked Hermione, "Did you send Lucinda a Christmas card?"

She answered yes.

And the lie detector said...

DRAMATIC MUSIC

She was telling the truth.

-AUDIENCE:

-Whoo!

Wait, did you send it to the old address?

Oh, I didn't know you'd moved.

Oh, sorry, then it's my fault.

We should have let you know.

Well, these things happen.

You need to damn well send change of address details to everyone on your

Christmas card list, and you need to double check people's addresses

before you send a Christmas card, birthday card, any sort of card.

Do you understand me?

-BOTH:

-Yes.

-I don't think you do.

You know what? Get off my show!

The pair of you disgust me.

-AUDIENCE:

-Off! Off! Off...!

Why don't you go and lie in a ditch and die?!

That's all for this series. Merry Christmas, everybody!