Original subtitles

And now, drop the dead donkey.

This episode was first shown in October '91,

when mrs Thatcher haunted the Tory conference

and wales fell to Western Samoa in the rugby world cup.

Inaudible

yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, listen, I'm sorry,

I'm gonna have to call you back. Only we're in the middle

of some very important editorial discussions.

It's an absolute load of rubbish. I am telling you it is a true story.

Catherine the great had sex with horses.

You're not still going on about that, are you?

Oh, why doesn't anything like that happen today, hey?

Think what an exclusive it would make.

Yeah. Bong. Queen to be divorced.

Bong. Red rum named as co-respondent.

Sorry I'm late, everybody.

I had to see Deborah's headmaster.

She's been supergluing infants to walls again,

so he's insisting we take her to see a psychiatrist.

Isn't that typical?

A child fails to conform,

so it's immediately packed off to a psychiatrist.

The next thing you know, it's being locked in the stair cupboard

and being told, "you can't come out

"until you stop following grandad into strip joints with a camera.

"Oh, you'll burn in he..."

Clears throat

so, how are we gonna cover the Tory party conference?

The key question will be

how many times will major use the word "appropriate"?

Honest Dave is offering two to one

against anything less than 30 "appropriates".

Anyone fancy a bet?

Right, now...

Hey, I just realised.

Catherine must have had a "stable" relationship.

He laughs

yes, right. Now, why don't we do something on the citizen's charter,

major's big idea?

Well, any idea seems big if you've got a mind as small as his.

I think you're all being very unkind. He's doing his best.

I tell you what, about Catherine.

Gives a whole new meaning to "who do you fancy in the 3.30?"

They laugh

laughter continues

I see. I'm obviously not in on this, as usual.

Paranoia.

There's a funny smell.

Yeah, I noticed that.

Seems to be coming from Henry.

Maybe he's on heat.

It's his new aftershave.

And he's wearing a new tie.

Yeah. And I caught him trimming his nasal hair in the gents.

Oh, I can't work this. We used to make the news perfectly well

without these jumped-up typewriters.

I don't see why we can't do it the old way still.

Just can't get the quills and the papyrus these days, Henry.

I see our little barracuda of broadcasting is on form.

And so are you, Henry. A new tie. Mm-hm.

New aftershave. Mm-hm.

Short nasal hair.

Is there something you wanna share with us?

No. Morning, everyone.

Good god, what is that?!

Well, I had to bring her in. I've been left without help.

My Filipino maid's been diagnosed as having cancer.

It's just awful.

Though the agency have promised

they'll get me a replacement by Friday.

So, until then, dido will be coming into the office with me,

won't you, my sweet?

I didn't realise it was fashionable to keep rats as pets.

You can't bring some dog in here.

She's not some dog!

Alex, did you manage...? That's a dog.

Correct. It's in the office.

Two out of two.

Good morning, team. Are we cooking with gas?

You bet! All right, George? Actually...

Any problems, I want you to share them with me.

Well, as a matter of fact, Gus... terrific.

Now, I could do with some help.

Sir royston is going through a bit of a downturn on the image front,

and the uk end of his PR team

are looking for some good photo opportunities.

You know the sort of thing - orphans, cripples, seal pups.

Basically, anything with big eyes. Exactly.

Aren't there those Indian children

that were given contaminated medicine?

There are, but unfortunately, it was sir royston

who owned the drug company,

and that's why there's been a downturn in his image status.

But never mind, Sally.

Whose dog is that? Mine.

Ah, isn't it sweet?

Phone rings

now, should we do a follow-up on the Allan green vice girl story?

Well, I'm just amazed by the whole thing.

A senior member of the legal profession paying for sex.

It's astonishing.

Yeah, usually it's you who has to pay to get screwed by a lawyer.

Rather vulgar, David.

Now, the conservative conference.

How are the debates going to divide up?

Well, Wednesday will be public transport.

The "we don't want any more of those big red things

"that get in the way of our taxis" debate.

Followed by law and order.

That's Baker saying, "let's neuter pit bull terriers

"and turn them loose on joyriders."

And tomorrow, it's the eec.

And that's the "let's work with our European partners,

"but don't forget they're still wogs" debate.

Very pithy, Alex.

Henry hums jauntily

you hear that? He's humming the number one.

Henry, the man who thought tanita tikaram was a curry.

And he went down the gym at lunchtime.

He's gonna have a heart attack.

Great. Eh?

Well, I've got him in the "who dies next in the office?" Sweepstake.

Oh.

Who ordered these Belgian chocolates?

Treats for dido.

You feed it Belgian chocolates?

She prefers them to the Swiss.

Look at it - poor, pampered, pathetic creature.

It would be kinder to have it put down.

It's not the dog's fault.

Who's talking about the dog?

A-ha. Hey, hey, hey.

"Snapped leaving stringfellows last night,

"the veteran newscaster Henry Davenport

"and his skimpily dressed companion,

"model turned singer Julia Jane."

They used that picture, did they?

God, she's 19! Yes, I believe so.

Going on here about her latest single.

Oh, how times have changed.

In the old days,

you had to sleep with someone really famous to be a pop star.

She doesn't need me. She's very talented. Got amazing vocal chords.

I'm sure you've explored them thoroughly.

Look, I can't help it

if fleet street deems my friendships worthy of the public domain.

Oh, joy, can you send out for 12 copies of the evening standard?

She's very young, isn't she? She's probably using him.

Poor old Henry. Yeah.

Yeah, poor old Henry.

Poor, poor Henry.

Poor, poor... Yes, yes, all right!

Do you know your dog's crapped in my in tray?

Together: No, but you hum the tune and we'll join in.

For god's sake!

I mean, you wouldn't believe

that such a small dog could cause such disruption in an office.

George, I've told you to share your problems with me,

and I'm delighted that you have. Well done.

Yes, thank you, Gus, but... So, any other problems?

Well, as a matter of fact, yes. Henry.

This relationship he's having seems to be affecting his work.

I don't know what happened last night,

but this morning, he's been in the most appalling mood.

I can imagine. That's two problems you've shared with me now, George.

Good, terrific.

Oh, and tell Dave thanks for the suggestion,

but sir royston feels that Jeffrey archer's got the kurds sewn up.

Ciao.

Ok, Henry, your interview with Chris patten tonight.

Oh, and do bear in mind that questions about the nhs

really seem to irritate him, so plenty of those.

Yes, but let's just give him a chance

to put the case for the government,

that health reforms have given patients a choice.

They don't want a choice, they just want a bloody doctor!

Hell's bells! When you're waiting in casualty, writhing in agony,

the last thing you want is a brochure,

telling you which suppositories are on special offer this week.

Oh, god, damn this thing!

Henry, these computers are great.

Everyone else seems to be managing to use them.

They're probably making me sterile, you know.

Well, that's something to be said for them.

Get that wheezing little fur ball away from me!

She's not a fur ball.

She's descended from a noble Chinese hunting dog.

What does it hunt? Woodlice?

Dear, oh, dear, Henry.

Why do I get the impression

your child bride wouldn't let you share her cot last night?

Thank you, joy.

This'll be my review copy of the princess royal's new book.

Yes, "me and horses".

Can you tell the bloody difference?

God, typical of the royals!

Palming off their cruddy watercolours,

bloody awful photos

and boring books on Horace the bloody helicopter.

They'll be flogging prince Harry's number twos for tourists next.

It's getting worse. George, you're gonna have to do something.

Yes, yes, yes, I know.

Now, look, um...

Henry... yells: Yes!

Could you ask Sally to have a word with me in my office?

Airhead, the jelly wants you.

You got it? We are in business.

My word, it took some doing,

but I have finally got hold of his number.

Oh, it's ringing, it's ringing. Clears throat

hello? Is that Max boyce speaking?

Chant: Western Samoa!

Look, come on, where's your sense of humour?

Sally, this dog...

Delightful though it is - she is - I was just...

No. Ah.

George, I intend to keep her with me until I can be sure

that the agency has found a properly qualified person to care for her.

You don't understand how much she means to me.

You can look forward to seeing your children when you go home,

can't you? Yes.

I have dido.

After a day working in this ruthless and dehumanising office,

I go home to someone who runs to me, wanting tummy tickles.

How many people can say that in this world?

Well, um, probably not that many.

I was just...

Would you jeopardise the well-being of the only individual I care about?

Well, obviously not, no.

It's just that... good.

Now, you must excuse me, George.

I've got to take dido for her aromatherapy.

Phone rings

yes?

Oh, hello, headmaster.

Is this about Deborah?

Mm-hm.

The school cat?

Kerosene? Yes, I see.

Yes, we're taking Deborah to see the psychiatrist tomorrow, yes.

No, we will not be taking a muzzle with us, and I don't think

comparing our daughter to a pit bull terrier is very helpful, frankly.

Hello?

Any more footage in from the Tory conference?

Yeah, some pictures of junior doctors protesting

at the long hours they have to work.

Any good? Not really, no.

They were too tired to shout anything.

There's a lovely little girl!

Yes. Oh, isn't she sweet, George, hm?

Laughter

he got a phone call.

Yes, from Julia Jane. We're going out to dinner tonight.

She's dropping by to pick me up later.

Will her pushchair fit in the lift?

Very good, my dear.

Bye-bye, dido.

Thank you.

Well, you are in a good mood, Henry.

Why not, George? God's in his heaven,

I'm taking the delightful Julia Jane out to dinner,

and I've just fed Sally's dog a box of laxative chocolates.

Vtr, roll.

Henry seems to look a bit more cheerful since he got

that phone call from Julia Jane. That may be,

but he's still not concentrating on his work.

At least I didn't forget to turn the talkback off.

I'll have you know, my mind is thoroughly on my job.

Talking of which, can we record this trail?

As soon as we're running, Henry.

We are running.

We are running, Henry.

Trail, take one.

On the burning issue tonight,

I will be talking about the economic situation

to labour's shadow minister for industry, Gordon brown,

and Robert Jackson, the Julia minister for employment.

Ok?

Gus, there's a new, undiscovered disease

that's occurring in wales and, well, I was thinking of sir royston.

Yes, sounds very hopeful. He could establish a research foundation.

Now, it's mainly in the valleys, north of Cardiff and swansea,

and the scientists... Wait a moment. Wales?

I thought you meant whales -

huge, intelligent and magical creatures -

not, er, well, welsh people.

Small, hairy and un-photogenic.

Please, Alex, let's not be too cynical.

Damien, this disease, does it affect mainly children by any chance?

No. Oh, I'm afraid, in that case...

Hello. Oh, hello. You must be Julia Jane.

Let you out of school early, have they?

That's right. And you must be Sally smedley.

Yes. The one who likes lorry drivers.

Henry's told me all about you.

Julia Jane, darling. Mwah!

Mwah! Oh, you look ravishing, as ever.

Everyone, I'd like you to meet Julia Jane.

Hi. Hey, you're Damien day!

That's right.

My sister really fancies you.

Really? Yeah, you and, um...

Jeremy beadle.

She's a funny girl.

We're a bit worried about her.

That's my girl. So, where shall we go dancing?

Is Henry a good dancer?

Yeah, haven't you seen him do the twist?

No, we've only seen him do the sway...

The totter... And the plummet.

Come on, darling, let's leave this mausoleum of mediocrities.

Good night, chappies. Bye-bye.

It'll all end in tears, you know. It'll never last.

All Henry will get from it

is a few nights of sexual gratification with a 19-year-old.

Poor Henry.

And with the rebels already in artillery range,

the terror returns to the eyes of these tragic refugees

who must, once again, flee north.

Mouths

oh, for god's sake.

Just hold it a minute, Jerry.

Mouths

explosion

and with the rebels already in artillery range,

the terror returns to the eyes of these tragic refugees

who must, once again, flee north.

Nice night out? What are you doing?

I'm putting together the outtakes tape

for the Christmas party. Oh.

I'm old, aren't I, Dave?

Oh, come on, Henry, you know you're not.

No, Dave, I want the truth, no pulled punches.

I'm old, aren't I?

Well... perhaps you're slowing down a bit.

What do you mean "slowing down"? Henry, you asked!

Yes, yes, I did. You know what they say?

Old newsreaders never die, they just appear on give us a clue.

All right, Henry.

What is it?

I'm infatuated with her, you see.

She's young and gorgeous and bright and vivacious.

We have a great time together.

God, I think I'm in love with her.

You mean you want to sleep with her

and she won't let you? Exactly.

Henry, you don't necessarily have to sleep with every woman you meet.

Oh, but I do!

When they don't want to, it hurts, Dave, it really hurts.

Well, you live by the groin, you die by the groin.

Getting old is so unfair!

I tell you, when I was your age...

..I was a cavalier among pork swordsmen.

But this one, this one is special, Dave.

But when I try to tell her how I feel,

I just get tongue-tied.

Maybe if a friend could explain it to her...

Dance music plays

and Henry says that he thinks you're really special,

it's just that whenever he tries to tell you, he just gets tongue-tied.

Oh, look, I'm really fond of him and he's great fun.

But I did tell him straight it wasn't a physical thing

and he said he was just happy to be friends.

He was lying. Oh, that's a bit awkward.

Oh, look, is that gazza?

No, I think that's just some other bloke with his tongue hanging out

and his underpants on his head.

It was a shame about him getting hurt in that gents.

Do you think he was drunk?

No, I think he probably just panicked and late-tackled a urinal.

Listen, um, about Henry...

Look, I am really fond of him,

but I know everyone thinks I just go round with him for the publicity.

Well, there was that full-page spread in the mirror today.

Yeah! And the photographs in the sun.

Mm. And two columns in today...

Yeah, look. Henry lined those up for me.

I'm not exploiting him. When you think what I could have done.

I mean, someone actually suggested that I sleep with Henry

and then sell the story to the news of the world.

Who was that? Your manager?

No, it was my mum, actually.

She, er, is a bit on the pushy side.

Hi! That's Terry. He was at Liz Taylor's wedding.

Said he had a really great time. Yeah?

Yeah, he was one of the minders.

He got to beat up three photographers from the sun.

Yeah? Mm.

All right?

Um, listen, about Henry.

Look, Dave... there's no use

Henry leaving ten messages per hour on my answerphone any more.

You're just gonna have to spell it out to him.

There's no future in our relationship.

Well, not the way he wants anyway.

I mean, he's too old and I don't find him physically attractive.

Can you tell him that? Yeah, yeah.

I might not put it quite like that, if it's all the same to you.

All right, gather round, everyone.

So, how did it go with Deborah and the psychiatrist yesterday?

What's the verdict?

Neurotic, disturbed and dysfunctional.

Well, she's probably just going through...

No, that was me. We didn't get round to Deborah.

Right, now, perhaps we should do a follow-up on the new rail link.

Yeah, heseltine's still not happy with the new route, apparently.

It doesn't go through enough labour constituencies.

His preference would probably be Dover, calais, Glasgow,

newcastle, king's cross.

Right, now, the tories will be winding up their conference.

I wonder if they'll end up with a song, like labour did.

What song could John Major sing?

Nowhere man?

? Grey is the colour

? most satisfactory

both: ? that's what you are. ?

Very funny, boys. George, your shrink's on the phone.

Yes, thank you, joy. Perhaps you could transfer it through to my...

Phone rings

thank you, joy. Hello? George dent here.

Yes, dr Flynn.

Well, I'm not totally convinced as to the usefulness of these sessions.

No. No, and I really don't see

what my being bottle-fed has got to do with anything.

Dave, Dave, um, thanks for talking to Julia Jane.

Oh, it was the least I could do, Henry.

What she told you - suddenly it all makes perfect sense,

you know, about her being a lesbian.

You know...

..That's the way it goes these days.

Yeah. Look, for the last time,

will you leave my mother's breasts out of this!

Slams phone down

um, if... anybody wants me, I shall be in my office.

Dog barks oh, god, are you all right?

No, I'm not! Has the nasty man hurt you?

Just about broke my hip.

Everything all right, George?

No problems you want to share with me?

Gus, I had an idea re sir royston.

Oh, we're ok. He's found some orphans.

Yes, there's been a landslide in Chile,

which seems to have cracked it.

Ok, stormtroopers, keep up the blitzkrieg, hey? Fantastic.

Are you all right, George? Yeah, just about.

Do you know what that psychiatrist said to me?

He said I have a deep-rooted inability

to exercise any form of control.

Well, I wonder what he'd say if he saw how I run this office.

I can't imagine.

"Singing starlet Julia Jane steps out with mystery man."

Does this man remind you of anybody?

Who?

This man with his tongue stuck in Julia Jane's ear.

No.

Oh, bloody hell, you don't think Henry's seen it, do you?

Henry yells: I'm gonna kill the little slimeball!

Hard to say.

Where is he?!

Um, Henry, it's not what you think.

Oh, no?

You mean to say you didn't go to see her,

as a so-called friend of mine,

to tell her how I felt about her,

end up sleeping with her,

and then tell me, the next morning, that you thought it was best

if I stopped seeing her because she was a lesbian?

Well, yeah, I did do that, but...

What's going on here?

I'm about to feed Dave's testicles through the paper shredder!

Right. Well, coach, you seem to have this all under control.

I'll leave it in your capable hands.

Now, let me have the little... look...

Dave, I suggest you leave now... this is not my fault!

..Or else I shall assist Henry in the operation to which he aspires.

Henry, you're upset. I suggest we get Sally

to read the six o'clock bulletin and you go home.

Oh, no! Oh, no, you won't. You won't get rid of me! Oh, no!

No, I shall finish reading this bulletin and compiling it.

Oh, yes, I will.

I shall read it,

and then, when I've read it,

then I sh...

Oh, damn this blasted, bloody computer!

Damn machines,

taking over this damned office!

Smashing and a single yelp

Henry...

You've just killed Sally's dog.

So what?

Sally hums 'how much is that doggie in the window?'

what's going on?

What's Henry's computer doing down on that rug?

Alex, conservative central office have complained

about our coverage of mrs Thatcher's standing ovation.

Why? We showed it in full. Exactly.

And they were none too keen on the close-ups

of Chris patten grinding his teeth.

Oh, and Kenneth Baker's complaining

that all our footage of him makes him look like a toad.

He should complain to god, not us.

Yes, I feel we're straying down cynicism boulevard here.

Now, John Major's speech tomorrow. Are we prepared for that?

Absolutely. We've got four cameramen on it,

they've got high-definition cameras

and 12 gallons of strong, black coffee to keep them awake.

Alex, I think you and I have got

a communication problem we need to share.

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