Original subtitles

Voiceover: And now, drop the dead donkey.

This episode was first shown in December '91,

in a week when William Kennedy Smith

was acquitted of rape in the us,

while ec leaders argued over

political union in maastricht.

And as a result I'm calmer, I'm more centred,

and since I came to see you last week,

I haven't placed a single bet.

Good. So, you must feel you're successfully rejecting

compulsive behaviour patterns.

Hmm, no, not really. I've started smoking again.

What about your other forms of compulsive behaviour?

Have you slept with any married women this week?

Hmm...

Not this week, no.

Oh, well, that's something. Anyway, getting back to the smoking...

Yeah, well, it was yesterday morning.

Because of the chaos at London bridge,

I had an absolutely appalling journey into work

on the northern line. 45 minutes stuck in a tunnel.

'So, at Camden town I got out and caught the bus.

'But that broke down, so I got a cab.'

horns beep come on, get a bloody move on!

Ban private cars, that's the answer. And buses. Just have cabs.

'Ere, how would you handle this traffic problem, guvnor?

Well, personally, I'd round up all the pedestrians,

cyclists and blacks into a big football stadium,

and then I'd execute 'em with death squads.

Oh, you're a cabbie yourself, then, are ya?

Yeah, you're right about the death squads.

'In 15 minutes, we travelled no further

'than the daily mileage of an unambitious scallop.

'So I got out and walked.

'And I arrived so wound up,

'i just had to have my first ciggy in four months.'

god, you're late.

Incident involving the attendance of the fire brigade

at Camden town tube.

Fire? No.

Incident involving the attendance of the fire brigade.

I expect a cat had got stuck up a tree in the booking office. I dunno.

Hey, you're smoking again... oh, I get it. So,

the strain of giving up gambling's driven you back to the fags?

Not at all. I can handle it. There you go, you see. No problem.

I'm in control. Any stories breaking?

Yeah, lots more stuff on Maxwell.

They've found more women at the mirror who've slept with him.

How d'you think they managed to track them down?

It's easy, innit? You just look for all the secretaries

who were in permanent traction.

Ah, David, what time do you call this?

Half past ten, what time do you call it?

Dave! Yeah, I'm sorry, George. What happened was...

Your alarm clock was eaten by martians?

No, at Camden town...

Your street was blocked by hoards of migrating wildebeest?

Listen, Dave, we're way behind cos of you.

Why can't you be more professional for once?

Phone rings yes?

Look, I'm in the middle of a meeting, mummy.

No.

No, I haven't heard anything about John Major

agreeing to take away old age pensions and give the money

to Portuguese lesbians, no.

Well, mrs backman next door isn't exactly a reliable source, is she?

She's the one who told you you could catch bse from tinned peaches.

Look, I've got to go. I'll call you later.

Yup. Bye.

Come on, Alex, we're way behind cos of you.

Listen, sunbeam... all right, all right. What's this?

It's a list of the times this week when I'm not available.

I'm going to be extremely busy.

I've instructed my agent I want my image driven upmarket.

More radio 4.

I understand the BBC are very keen

to have me as a castaway on desert island discs.

Yes, they'll probably want to use a real desert island.

Can we all get some work done, please?

Dave, I want a word in my office.

Oh, and, joy, you couldn't make me a cup of coffee, could you?

That's right, I couldn't. I'm busy.

It just gets worse.

Now, Dave... yes, I know, George,

you want to talk to me about lateness.

No, no. It's not just your lateness. It's your general attitude.

It's the womanising, the gambling...

Ah, now, if I can stop you there, George? I am happy to say that

I have not placed a single bet this week.

I'm seeing this therapist, he specialises in curing obsessives.

He's fantastic, you should see him.

I am not an obsessive.

And I certainly don't need to see a therapist.

All right, George, I just thought with all your problems recently,

you know... Margaret leaving you and everything.

Yes, well, actually, I've got some rather good news on that front.

Margaret came back at the weekend. It's just a trial thing, you know.

That is terrific, George, I'm so pleased.

Yes, we've agreed to talk through all our problems from now on.

In fact, we've talked through several of mine already.

Margaret says that I don't trust people enough,

so I've started delegating.

For instance, yesterday morning,

I just gave all my routine paperwork to joy.

Really? Yeah, she gave it straight back to me, of course,

but that's not the point. You see, psychologically,

it's a big step forward. It's a new start.

Well, it's new starts all round.

Believe me, George, from now on, I'm gonna be ultra reliable.

Now, Dave, you have said this before.

I promise. Trust me.

Well, it's great that you're kicking the gambling habit.

And the married woman thing?

Oh, well, one thing at a time, George.

Fair enough.

Now, then, maastricht... How shall we handle it tonight?

Well, I'll kick off with the words,

"good evening. More on the maastricht agreement."

Then the big question is,

will the national grid be able to cope

with 20 million people simultaneously getting up

to put the kettle on?

Well, there's this. Tebbit's saying

that the British want to be governed by people who speak English.

So, why have we got John major as Prime Minister?

He doesn't speak English.

He speaks croydonian.

An incomprehensible suburban dialect spoken only by nerds

who tuck their shirts inside their underpants.

Yes, well, maybe we'll get back to that

when Henry's being a bit more constructive.

Have we got anything on Baker's car crime bill?

Obviously, we can use my joyriders report.

I couldn't possible broadcast that, Damien. Oh, come on, George.

All the other channels have shown footage of joyriders in action.

Yes, but not from inside the car.

Dave, old boy, do you fancy an evening at the dogs tonight?

You know, back a few bow-wows.

Sink a few beers. Pull a couple of popsies.

Just you and me, eh? The two musketeers.

Yeah, pathos and bathos.

What do you say? No, I'm sorry, Henry,

I've given up gambling. I'm exercising self-control.

So, why have you started smoking again?

Oh, no, you haven't, have you?

I only had the one... Talk about weak.

Excuse me, miss holier-than-thou,

but I seem to recall that when you first came here,

you smoked 50 a day and were affectionately known as

"fag ash lil". Don't exaggerate. You had nicotine-stained eyelashes.

It's the passive smoking that gets me.

Why should I be the victim of someone else's addiction?

Addiction? Talk about people in glass houses, you drink like a fish.

Yes, but I don't go around forcing open people's mouths

and then pouring my drink down their throats, do I?

Yes, you do when you're really pissed.

That's what got us barred from the turk's head.

Oh, yes.

Yeah, well, you wouldn't smoke if you'd seen what I'd seen.

A pair of smoker's lungs in a jar of formaldehyde

at the path lab at guy's hospital.

They looked like a pair of charred prunes.

Oh, yes. That's what you've got in there, mate.

Two charred prunes dripping with tar and suppurating...

Yes, yes. I can do without the free X-ray, thank you.

It's the smell I object to.

Oh, I've had enough of this.

What's got into him?

Well, some people just aren't mature enough to accept honest criticism.

They have to run away. It's very unprofessional.

I couldn't agree more. Where would we be if Sally upped and walked out

every time someone called her a talentless cow? We'd get nowhere.

Well, absolutely.

Any more disclosures on Maxwell?

The latest estimate of the amount missing is 540 million.

Cor, looks like he might have siphoned it off somewhere.

Well, it didn't slide down the back of the sofa, did it, George?

The whole bloody Maxwell affair makes me puke.

I mean, mirror journalists, who a few weeks ago,

would have written articles about how Robert Maxwell

was a demigod from mount Olympus,

are now denouncing him for screwing them.

Henry, we haven't got time for one of your rants right now.

What really makes me want to lose my bloody lunch is Joe Haines.

That man had his head so far up Maxwell's arse,

they had to ring the fire brigade to get him out.

If we could keep the noise down, please.

What's she doing? Still going upmarket.

The observer are doing one of those "room of my own" pieces on her.

And your men will deliver the books to my house

and load them onto my bookshelves, will they?

Good. Now, I want five dostoevsky, four dickens,

four zolas, and a couple of kafkas.

Now, 20 nobel peace prize winners

are meeting to discuss what mankind is doing with its intelligence.

What do you mean, "which dostoevsky"?

Not a lot, I'd say. Which ones have you got?

No, I don't think I want something called "the idiot"

on my coffee table, thank you. Well, look,

just send me all the ones with pastel covers. Thank you.

Now, we still haven't got an angle on the Kennedy trial.

Oh, yes, George, I've been meaning to talk to you about that.

All this footage of bras and panties being waved around in court

can only be prurient and sensationalist.

So, plenty of that.

Oh, by the way,

these allegations of a man sexually molesting a dolphin...

Is not a major news story.

Fine, I was just checking.

Ok, I think we should...

Maybe we could make it an environmental issue.

No!

Ok.

For god's sake. Phone rings

Alex pates.

Mummy, I'm a bit...

Well, mrs blackman may have a nephew in the army,

but I really think we would have heard

if the Ukrainians had launched a nuclear strike on cheltenham.

What, look...

No. No, still no news on the boyfriend front.

Yes.

Yes, I'm taking my haliborange, yeah.

Ok, yeah. Ok, bye.

Honestly, she just won't let me grow up!

In her mind's eye, all she ever sees

is a 13-year-old schoolgirl in a gym slip.

Yeah, I get that.

Sorry.

Now, which Republic was it that left the Soviet union today?

General, I have a very important mission for one of your operatives.

Now, this is a show tape of globelink's news operations.

And sir roysten needs it urgently,

as in three hours' time, he's flying out to Tokyo

to negotiate with some important Japanese investors.

No problem, we'll send a bike.

I don't want this vital tape

being delivered by some spotty oik in leathers.

No, no, no. Has to be delivered in person.

It's a job for someone who is totally reliable.

I'll take it.

Maybe I didn't make myself clear.

I said someone reliable.

Meaning what exactly?

Meaning you're about as reliable as a second-hand trabant.

Look, I'm beginning to resent this caricature of me

as some feckless good-for-nothing.

Now, I will take that tape to sir roysten

and you can rely on me 100%. Huh!

I think that Dave is perfectly suited

to taking this tape, Gus. In fact, I want him to deliver it.

George! I have great confidence in him.

I know he won't let us down.

There you are, Dave.

George, I'm warning you,

if sir roysten doesn't get that tape in time,

he'll have my guts for garters and your crown jewellers for cufflinks.

Do I make myself clear? Yes. Graphically.

But I repeat, I have complete confidence in Dave.

Thank you, George.

Well, you'd better not be wrong, George.

Now, this is sir roysten's address in weybridge.

You've to ring on the video phone and wait a few moments

while the security staff calm the rottweilers.

Dave, don't foul it up.

I appreciate this, George, I really do.

I'll ring for a cab right now.

Um, George, uh...

Are you sure about this?

Look, all he has to do is deliver a vhs tape to sir roysten's house.

What can go wrong? Well, nothing, I suppose,

it's just I can't help recalling the time that we sent him to collect

that Iranian charge d'affaires from the airport. Yes.

We finally tracked them down at an acid house party in basingstoke.

I've ordered the cab, George. Right, good, that's good.

Got great faith in you, Dave. Thanks.

Total confidence, 100%. Cheers.

Has anybody got an aspirin?

Are you ok?

Yes, I'm fine, absolutely fine,

and I certainly don't need professional help.

I didn't say you did.

Ah, any calls, joy? Yes, your agent rang.

Jonathan Ross don't want you because they say you're too lightweight,

but she can get you on TV-am doing exercises with mad Lizzie.

How's the new Dave charnley? Fine, thank you.

Good, good, good.

I was chatting to this fellow at my club last night, a trainer,

and he told me they've got this two-year-old running at sedgefield

that's been clocking record times in the gallops

really? Yeah. A sure-fire thing, this chap said.

Hmm. Gingerbread boy, it's called.

Yeah, I'm not interested, Henry. Fine. I understand.

I just thought, um... You'd like to know,

because it's at 16/1.

16/1? Yeah.

16/1? Mm-hm.

16... could you pass that water? Only, my mouth's gone dry. Sure.

Uh, 16/1, you say?

Yeah, I've got 40 quid on it, so I stand to win, um...

�640.

You could do yourself a bit of good.

Go on, phone it in.

Gingerbread boy.

It's a sure thing.

No. No!

Well, that's good.

You controlled the impulse, that's splendid.

Yeah, things were looking good, I was feeling good,

then the cab was late and I started to feel less good.

Has anyone got a cigarette?

Or better still, some Valium?!

Morphine?

What are you still doing here? My cab has been held up.

Apparently, there's a burst water main at Camden high street.

Another one in Tottenham court road, two in goodge street.

Dave, you have precisely two hours to get to sir roysten's.

Two hours stand between us and oblivion.

Let's not panic, shall we? Let's have some trust in people.

Well, I never. Gingerbread boy's lengthened to 20/1.

I am not listening. 25/1.

? La-la-la-la... ?

Dave, your cab is downstairs. Oh, I love you.

Bye, everyone!

Oh, it's great to see Dave developing as a person, isn't it?

Seems so together.

Shit!

Yes, thank you very much.

So, at last, things were looking up.

The cab had arrived.

Right, uh, I'm going to weybridge, ok?

I've got a map and I know the route. You take the a3.

Uh, but... I don't want any arguments,

just take the a3. It's the quickest route.

Horns beep

Jesus wept, look at this lot.

We should ban private cars.

Well, I did try to warn ya.

It's been like this all week - burst water main.

Is there a single water main in London that isn't burst, then?

I mean, what do they make them out of, balsawood?

Oh, bloody hell. Look at the time.

Phone rings

any more messages for me?

No, not since the one I gave you from sir roysten,

one about the jobcentre.

Any for me?

Again, just sir roysten about the jobcentre.

And, Alex, your mum rang.

Something about the building society evicting her

and giving her house to homeless Latvians.

And, Sally, you're far too dim to achieve an upmarket image.

Did my agent say that?! No, that's just my personal opinion.

Look, has anyone got any idea where the hell Dave's got to?!

Oh, for god's sake. Make 'em get a move on, will ya?

Look at them, just crawling along.

Yeah, all right.

Oi!

Come on, we haven't got all day!

Oh, look, he in't gonna notice, is he? Come on!

So, you were feeling somewhat edgy?

Yeah.

What was really getting to me was that I could imagine

what they were all saying about me back at the office.

You know, "Dave's a wastrel. Dave's a liability."

Dave's a wanker, that's the problem here.

What on earth made you entrust the job to him, George?

Well, Margaret said I needed to show more trust.

Well, rather than listen to Margaret all the time,

perhaps you should see a professional.

Why does everyone keep going on about me seeing someone?!

Any news of Dave? He said he'd ring when he gets there.

If he gets there!

We're getting there, just a few minutes.

Here, look at that lot. What a bunch of wallies.

Rag parade.

We're nearly there. We're gonna make it.

We're gonna make it!

Yes.

Old Dave has finally turned up trumps.

Dog barks argh, get off!

Ow! Argh!

I can just feel my luck finally beginning to change.

Jesus.

Bloody hell.

Hey, look, um, he's all right.

He's fine, he's gonna be fine, he's just, um, winded.

Can't we sort of, you know, pull him out and drive on?

Don't be silly, call an ambulance.

Where's the nearest phone?

He'd phone if there was a problem.

There's no need to panic.

Phone rings hello?!

It's your mum.

Uh, no, I'm afraid she's just nipped out.

No, mrs pates, don't worry. Just because you're �1.50 overdrawn,

doesn't mean the bank will tear up your cheque card.

Oh, they have?

Well, look, I'll get Alex to ring you back, shall I?

Yes. Right you are, then.

Bye-bye, mrs pates.

Right, the ambulance is on its way. Nice one.

You better try and get yourself another cab.

Yeah, I'll just get the, uh...

..Just get the, uh...

Tape's gone.

I left it on the seat.

Somebody's nicked the bloody tape!

Oi! Stop head-butting my cab.

Sir roysten will be leaving in precisely two minutes.

Hey, Sally, your agent has been working overtime.

Good, that's what I pay her for.

Big bit about you here in the gossip section,

linking you romantically with a celebrity.

Really? Oh, well, it's all harmless hype, I suppose.

Who am I being linked with?

Some actor, or writer or somebody?

No. Paul gascoigne.

The footballer with the yob haircut

who's always got his tongue hanging out?

I'm being linked with that?!

Is gazza bonking sazza?

Sazza?!

Another agent bites the dust.

George, Baker's giving evidence on prisons to a commons committee.

You know, how I let the only two guilty irishmen in jail escape?

So, uh, maybe... phone rings

where the hell have you been? It's Dave.

Dave! Dave...

Have you got the tape to sir roysten?

Uh, well, no, I, um...

Well, where are you? As it happens,

I'm in a betting shop, but I can explain.

He's in a betting shop. You see, the tape got stolen

while I was ringing for an ambulance for the unicorn.

Unicorn?! Yeah, we collided with a unicorn.

A unicorn?!

Flying through the air, was it?

No. It was riding a monocycle.

I mean, obviously, it wasn't a real unicorn!

Yeah, yeah, your taxi was hit by a monocycling unicorn.

It just veered out in front of us. You see,

it'd been blinded by the banner that was being held by the dragon.

Dragon?! Dave?

Dave, I just want you to know that I feel you've let us all down.

And that you've let me down personally,

and I'm gonna have to sit down now,

because the room is beginning to spin.

Dial tone

I mean, none of it was my fault, yet they've all just assumed that

if I was in a betting shop, I must have been placing a bet.

Every time I try to explain it to them, they all just sneer.

And how do you feel about that? Well, bitter, frankly.

How do you propose dealing with that bitterness? I dunno.

How much did you win on gingerbread boy?

About 300 qui...

So, you have been gambling.

Well, it was a tip from a trainer,

I mean, you can't call that a gamble,

can you? It was a sure thing. You know,

I'd just phoned for the ambulance and I thought, while I was there...

Mr charnley, if you can't be honest with me,

I really don't think there's much point

our having any more of these sessions. Do you?

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for my next appointment.

Yeah, ok.

Well, goodbye, then. Goodbye, mr charnley.

See you back at the office, George.

Morning, George, and how are you?

Fine. Me and Margaret have been talking,

and I think we may have a future.

None of us will have a bloody future if Jacques delors gets his way.

She's been very reasonable.

This sceptered isle, run by Belgian pen pushers

with all the imagination of lobotomised woodlice.

She's accepted I have to work late. In fact,

she said I can stay at the office all night for all she cares.

Major going on about opt-outs.

God, why go to the brothel if you're not gonna drop your knickers?!

It won't be love's young dream.

We'll have to accept things, like separate beds.

At least that's what Margaret feels.

But you have to make compromises.

I suppose a bit like Britain at maastricht.

Only, we're gonna get screwed and you're not, George.

I beg your pardon!

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