1
Koyaanisqatsi.
That music was very foreboding.
It's made a shiver go down my spine.
- That'll be the air-conditioning.
- I would've taken it off sooner
but I was having a fascinating
conversation with the proud father
of Norfolk's most sun-tanned child.
Just passed his details on
to the Social Services.
The time is 11:59 and 55 seconds.
- It's midday.
- Well, no... Well, yeah, it is now.
You're listening to Mid-Morning Matters.
Mid-Morning Matters with Alan Partridge.
Music and chat for the
Norfolk generation.
Sorry, it's the other way.
Later we'll be taking dedications
for anyone wrongly turned down
for planning permission.
Also, I'll be asking:
Which is the worst monger?
Fish, iron, rumour or war?
Pretty clear, that one.
Now it's time for
today's large question.
Large question.
It's the near future.
An unprovoked chemical attack
from France, or possibly China,
has left us without a sense of smell.
In a whiff-free world,
what smell would you miss the most?
- Tom in Diss?
- Petrol.
Nice. Wrongly referred to
by the Americans as "gas".
It's petrol, not gas.
- Dominic in Castle Acre?
- Money.
Yep. Joe in Holt?
- My wife's nightie.
- You kinky get.
- Saucy sod.
- She died, you see.
- Smells matter.
- They do.
Hey, Greg.
This is a great station, a real cracker.
Yeah. Hi, Pat.
Um... this is Jason Tresswell.
- Managing Director of...
- Goredale Media.
Our new owners, huh?
I Googled you on Yahoo.
That's Pat Farrell.
Does week nights. 10-12.
Sleepy-time slot.
- So, are you on your way out?
- You tell me.
Is it true you're being taken over
by a bunch of corporate whores?
Er... Gillian, I'm 99%
certain that's not true.
We've got a text here from
Joy in Diss who says:
An easy way to solve the problems
in Israel...
- A thorny issue.
- ..would be for Judaism and Islam to merge.
Wouldn't hold your breath.
- They both hate pigs.
- True enough.
You could call it Jislam.
I think you can go in circles, can't you,
trying to think of names for something?
Even er... a cat.
Well, nettles cause 'em,
dock leaves cure 'em.
It's a sting. It's Sting.
Roxanne
- Sorry.
- Never, never criticise Muslims.
Only Christians. And Jews a little bit.
Alan, it's started. They're here.
We're being taken over.
So?
Roxanne
You don't have to put on the red light
Those days are over
You don't have to sell
your body to the night
Hello?
Are you in the business centre?
Coconut, everybody
Like de coconut
Coconut, coconut...
Coconut, coconut
Oh, hello, Lynn. Just reading about
how ospreys died out in Britain
and had to be reintroduced
from Scandinavia in the early '90s.
Now I think there are
almost 500 of them.
Yeah. 480.
It shows we should treasure
and value our wildlife.
So, what you got, girl?
Well, the butchers want you
to do another voiceover.
"Bannan's the Butcher's.
Yesterday's meat at today's prices."
You've had the mayor of
Hickling get in touch.
He listens to your show and wants to
offer you the freedom of the village.
- It doesn't even have a post office.
- They give you a big key.
- How big?
- That big.
- Tell him I accept.
Everything seems to be
chugging along nicely.
Everything OK, Alan?
Michael's just sent a text saying he
hasn't bought toilet paper in 18 months.
- How does he...
- He steals it from a pub.
- Oh.
- That's a relief.
Shared a bag of salty popcorn
with him last week.
Roll out the barrel!
- Hi, I'm Pat Farrell.
Join me tonight at 10 for a hearty
casserole of tunes, cheer and chin-wag.
Local folk trio Will-o'-the-wisp
will be playing live in the studio,
and I'll be taking your calls
on my ever popular fireside phone-in.
Don't miss it.
OK, for those who haven't
slipped into a coma,
you are listening to the Breakfast Show
with Danny Sinclair and these muppets.
- How we feeling this morning, guys?
- Better than you, by the look of things.
- I had it large. I got on it.
- Take it easy tonight, then.
I would but we've got
the launch tonight.
North Norfolk Digital
are changing their name to...
Shape - The Way You Want It To Be.
Shape - the way you want it to be
Coming up next, Alan Partridge.
God bless him, how old is he?
60 or something. Got to be, hasn't he?
Alan, we love you, mate.
We love you really.
This one's for you if you're listening.
It's Roachford.
Cuddly Toy
: Well, I don't pour out
my heart like this to everyone
Not anyone that I meet
And I know it ain't the wine,
cos I feel just fine
Can't you see, baby?
I'm still on my feet
Oh, but a cuddly toy
That's my only joy waiting for me
when I get home, yeah
And what I need is a girl like you
All I need, yeah, to call my very own
So you gotta feel for me, baby
Feel for me, baby
Yeah, you gotta feel for me, baby
Feel for me, baby
Girl, you gotta feel for me, baby
Feel for me, baby
Oh, gimme some love
Come on, now...
Your fog lamps are on.
Your fog lamps are on. There's no fog.
There's no fog.
No fog.
Oh, a cuddly toy
That's my only joy
Waiting for me when I get home
Na-na
And what I need
ls a girl like you
Just to call, call my very own
So, you gotta feel for me, baby
Feel for me, baby
Yeah, you gotta feel for me, baby
Feel for me, baby
You gotta feel for me, baby
Feel for me, baby
Oh, gimme some love
Love that noise.
Michael, do it outside.
- Morning, Michael.
- Morning, Mr Partridge.
- Paper.
- I was doing a fist bump.
- You would say that now you've lost.
- It's instead of a handshake.
Some people say it's more hygienic
than a handshake.
But who's to say
you can't get shit on your fist?
- Did you hear him making fun of you?
- I did, but as Oscar Wilde said,
"There's only one thing worse
than being talked about."
- Cancer.
- No. "Not being talked about."
Oscar Wilde said that's
worse than cancer?
Yeah. I think he was at a party.
Probably just being a gay show-off.
Shape, Shape, Shape
Do you know what I really like? I like waking up
in the morning, breathing in the air and er...
actually realising I've made it through
the night and I haven't wet the bed.
No, I am joking, obviously, but er...
they were, of course,
very, very dark days indeed.
But they're all behind me now.
- Morning, Angela.
- Morning, Alan.
Alan Partridge has just
walked into the building.
Walking and talking, like The West Wing.
- Hope he hasn't hurt himself!
- Mr President, we have a code red.
- I've never seen the show.
- No, me neither.
Corner coming up.
You never know what's round the corner.
More corners, usually.
Imagine a world without corners.
No-one would be able to cut any.
Everyone would be going round in circles.
Wow.
I enjoyed that.
I will tell you one thing.
When I was going through my bad times,
I found Norfolk was perhaps
maybe not the place to be and...
just because it's so at
and there was a sort of a...
a bleakness about the place,
but obviously now...
You're a good broadcaster, Alan.
Don't forget that.
- I wasn't planning to, Pat.
- You seen this memo?
"Exciting new phase.
Here's to the future."
- My days are numbered.
- No-one's getting sacked.
It's like Bobby Brushes, the caretaker, when
the swimming pool allegations came out.
- He was in bits.
- Yeah.
It turned out he was just helping those
lads towel off. He was being nice.
- He didn't even know them.
- Yeah, but where is he now?
- He runs his own business.
- There. He's back on his feet.
Rents out bouncy castles.
For adults, yeah?
- Look at this memo.
- I've seen the memo. It's quite simple.
Goredale Media are simply re-imagining
our core brand values
and giving it a name more fitting
to multi-platform content delivery.
- They're people people.
- People people sack people.
No, Pat. People sack people.
People people please people.
- Can you have a word with them, Alan?
- Would you?
Er... sure. As soon as I can get them
all in the same room together.
- They're all up in the boardroom now.
- That's great.
Thank you. Thank you, Alan.
You're a pal.
Well, pals is pals.
If we're all looking at the last quarterly
figures for North Norfolk on page 6.
Then if you turn to page 5.
Hi, guys, don't want to be an
agenda-bender, but any chance of a wa-wa?
- It's not a good time, Alan.
- It's fine, we've time. Come in.
Oh, we moved the other thing.
Yeah, it's a good time.
Alan. Alan Partridge.
Jason Tresswell,
MD of Goredale Media.
It's not "Alan Alan Partridge".
It's "Alan, comma, Alan Partridge".
I know some people do have two names.
Zsa Zsa Gabor, for instance.
Duran Duran.
Yeah, that's not as good.
Um... Kris Kristofferson.
Excellent small talk.
Gentlemen, to business.
I am here as one of the more senior
D-jocks at this station.
I'm here to talk about jobs.
Like a Nazi officer this, isn't it?
Should er... snap my heels together.
- Achtung!
- Guten Tag.
Silence! Sorry. I meant to miss you.
I want you to do something for me.
I want you to take all your prejudices,
put them in a box marked "prejudices",
put it to one side, wipe the prejudice
juice off your hands...
Can I just stop you there?
Change is healthy, you shouldn't fear it.
I'm not scared of anything.
Not even an elephant,
which is interesting,
because there's one in this room.
- Wanna know his name?
- Pat Farrell.
It's Pat Farrell. Pat's audience is old.
Old people, much like
dogs, are blindly loyal.
And if Pat hi-tails it to
Cedar FM and they follow,
you've got a grey exodus on your hands.
A grexodus.
Hm. That prejudices box doesn't
seem quite so cool any more, does it?
Yeah, but we bought Cedar FM as well.
I didn't know that.
I did not know that.
- The point is...
- You were talking about Pat Farrell.
Pat Farrell is a great guy.
He's always the first to speak up
at union meetings,
being a member of a union.
He's also Irish, which again, weirdly,
a plus point, if you like swearing.
He's often on his show:
"Feckin' dis" and "Feckin' dat".
Some Irish people say Feck off"
isn't as bad as "Fuck off"
but I think that's bullshit
or bellshit.
- The bottom line is, he swears too much.
- This is all very interesting...
I can sum up Pat Farrell in ten words.
Pat isn't very good so let him go, guys,
seriously.
I can condense that to three words.
Just sack Pat.
That completes my presentation.
Gentlemen, I'll leave
you to your biscuits.
Gloves.
Oh, fuck.
Glove.
Shape
The way you want it to be
Ahhh! That was soft rock
cocaine enthusiasts, Fleetwood Mac.
And this was Mid-Morning Matters.
Where once again,
- mid-morning... mattered.
- Mattered.
Supposed to do it in sync.
- Always leave a gap.
- Sorry.
Simple. Very simple.
You're listening to Shape -
The Way You Want It To Be.
Mm-hm. Right. And will it take long?
It will take long. OK.
Hi, Pat. I'll catch you later.
I'm not happy about it, but...
I'll have to go along with it, won't I?
The... The problem is that the phone
rings even when I'm speaking on it,
so it sounds bloody weird.
In fact, I think it just did it then.
Did you hear it? Yes?
Yeah. He heard it too.
OK, well, I'll leave it with you.
Mm-hm. Yep.
Yep.
All right. Thanks, Susan.
If Geoff Susan doesn't mend that phone,
there'll be hell to pay.
They wouldn't even let me say goodbye
to my listeners.
Just gave me 30 minutes
to clear out my locker.
Well, at least I'm getting
their mugs dirty.
Thanks, Alan.
You always stuck up for me.
Not like the others.
Well, I'll let you get back to... Geoff.
- Who's Geoff?
- Geoff Susan.
Oh, yes, of course.
Ahhhhh...
I did the right thing, didn't I, Lynn?
I mean, I think he knew his days
were numbered.
More of an assisted suicide really.
I just ew him to Switzerland
and filled out a few forms and...
...sloped off to the airport.
I've got to be honest, Lynn,
I'm feeling pretty crummy.
Pat's Irish, isn't he?
To be sure.
Why don't you donate
50 to Sinn Fein?
Perfect.
Love that noise.
Keep me away from the sausage rolls.
I'm wearing my chubby clothes again.
- I noticed.
- What the chub, or the clothes?
- Ipad.
- My-pad.
Not that funny, Lynn.
CALVIN HARRIS feat. KELIS:
Bounce
- I used to go with prostitutes.
- Brilliant.
Cocaine - that was a trigger.
Cocaine, prostitutes.
Bit of a cycle. Puking up the old er...
luminous green bile.
Yeah, I was withdrawing.
I've got my minder with me.
- Lynn?
- She might not seem tough
but I once saw her stamp on
50 cockroaches in a minute.
He didn't see. He was in the next room.
- It was in Wales.
- It's true, yeah.
All I could hear was crunch, crunch,
crunch, stamp, stamp, stamp.
I thought she was country dancing
whilst eating cereal.
I thought it was the End of Days.
They were legion.
Lynn likes The Bible.
I've never understood moths.
They only come out at night,
yet they're attracted to light.
I don't know why they just don't
come out during the day.
I've nothing to add to that.
If you substituted buttery...
Could you go and get me
some sausage rolls?
If you substituted buttery for moth,
I think it would sound like poetry, yeah.
Unfortunately, Wordsworth didn't say:
"I wandered lonely as a moth
to eat some jumpers in a drawer"
"As if that wasn't bad enough,
it ate my sock upon the moor"
Yeah. It's just... I don't know why
a sock could be on the moor.
A mitten, maybe.
I actually spewed up some
of my stomach lining.
I don't know if you've ever done er...
done any horse, have you?
- I've ridden a donkey.
- No, no, no, I mean heroin.
I know what you mean.
No, I've not done heroin.
- If you can read, read a book.
Citizen Kane. Black and white.
I haven't seen that.
I tell you what, the best film for me,
ever, is still The Godfather.
- Ah, amazing film.
- Perfect film.
"I'm gonna make him an offer
he can't refuse.
- Amazing acting, though.
- Great acting.
I tell you what's even better-
a lot of people are shocked when I say
this - the camera angles.
- Alan, I need a word.
- Camera angles?
It's rather delicate.
Remember when you took me for that
Christmas meal at the ice rink?
You remember that woman
disinfecting the boots?
The one that took a shine to you?
I went home and you and her...
Well, it's... none of my business.
It is none of your business, but for
the record, went back to her place,
watched Air Crash Investigation,
then I fell asleep in her big armchair.
A perfectly normal woman.
Well, she's here.
Lynn, get rid of her.
She's a drunk racist.
- I'll tolerate one, but not both.
- Fine.
But you said I could pop by any time.
I know, but my career's
hanging by a thread.
- And I'm an embarrassment, am I?
- No, no.
You just wanted sex, you used me.
Well, maybe you used me.
L-I didn't have much of a say
over what went on that night.
Didn't hear you complaining.
- I couldn't speak.
- See you round mine again, then.
I... don't know, I'm... I'm...
- What's wrong with my place?
- Well... all those dogs barking.
But it's their bedroom too.
May I have a word?
You're talking clap... crap!
I sound like a fucking Chinky
when I'm pissed!
There we go. All done.
- What did you say to her?
- I told her that God loves everyone.
Even sluts.
- Good night, Lynn.
- Night, Alan.
Hello?
V funny. Tee-hee.
Very impressive.
Oh, they must have left in a hurry.
Something weird's happened.
All right, you freaked me out, so just...
pack it...
There you are!
Pat? Agh!
I'm down.
You...
You step to me?
Simon.
Er...
Yeah, all right.
I'll go on without you.
Stop! Stop! Stop!
- I need to commandeer this vehicle.
- What?
- There's a mad man with a gun.
- Um...
- He's Irish!
- Get in.
Why do you sit so close to the wheel?
I could steer with my balls!
- Where's the nearest police station?
- Just here.
Oh... thanks.
Are you Alan Partrid...?
Assault, battery, kidnap,
chronic thuggery,
brandishment, actual bodily harm,
grievous bodily harm...
- ..harm.
- Just stick to what you saw
and we'll decide if it's ABH or GBH.
- You mean aitch?
- That's what I said.
Nearly, you said haitch.
"Ha" is the sound of the letter,
aitch is its name.
One is ha, the other is aitch.
Neither is "haitch".
- I'm sorry, I'm a bit nervous.
- Mr Partridge?
- Something else we need to talk about.
- Oh...
- You're not in trouble.
- Oh, fine.
I've never been in a police car before.
May I lower the window, please?
Foxtrot Sierra. Alpha
Papa arriving at the school building.
- Officer.
- Mr Partridge.
- You were at the police station.
- I was just in the car with you.
- If you want to follow me, please.
- Huh.
- This way, please, sir.
- Yep.
Let's do it.
Mr Partridge, this is the Gold Commander
of the operation.
- Seriously, is that what you're called?
- On this operation, yes.
I'm Acting Chief Constable
Janet Whitehead.
- An honour.
- And I'm Martin Fitch.
Send.
From Scotland Yard's
Hostage and Crisis Unit.
Here to lead the negotiation.
Er... little bit awkward.
Who's in charge?
Make no mistake, this lady is in charge.
So here's the situation.
Pat is refusing to speak to us directly.
He's willing to give us three hostages but
only if he can talk to us through you.
Now, we need to know why Pat has done this
so we can draw things to a peaceful conclusion.
Yeah, sure, I'll talk to him. Deal.
Sorry, wrong person.
Come here.
OK. Now, are you on any medication?
Er... Just some cream.
I've got very aggressive athlete's foot but
that's the only thing about me that is.
Do you suffer from any nervous
conditions, such as panic attacks?
Do I look like I suffer
from panic attacks?
I've had one panic attack in a car wash.
It was a perfect storm
of no sleep, no wife,
and angry brushes whirring towards me.
By the time the giant hair dryer
came on, I was in the footwell.
Does the idea of weaponry trouble you?
Er... no. I've fired several ries,
at fun fairs, and won prizes.
But I've never fired one
in anger, or at a cat.
We'll have you fully briefed
by the tactical firearms team.
Cool.
We'll keep in regular phone
contact with you when you go in.
Very cool. Sorry, go in?
- What, into the building?
- Mm-hm.
- To speak to Pat in person?
- Yes, is that not what you...
- Erm...
- Everything OK?
I'm just a little nervous about
going into a car wash... er... siege.
So what do you say, Al?
Will you help us?
Yep.
Guys, none of us choose
the hand we're dealt...
- You know...
- We do need an answer, I'm afraid.
Do you have another siege to go to?
It's my understanding that if you say
yes, you're allowed a few words.
- So you are saying yes?
- I was leaving that to the end.
- If you'd like to come with me.
- Sure.
Can I get a copy of that?
- Let's keep this simple, shall we?
- Roger, that.
- No heroics.
- Ten-four, good buddy.
Do not physically engage him.
- Fight a gun, ee a knife, yeah?
- Where do you read that?
Big fans of you guys in TFU.
If I had my way, all police
officers would carry firearms.
I think that firearms should remain
in the hands of specialists.
I was going to say that only specialists
should be allowed to fire them.
If you think I've just made that up,
you can call my assistant.
Alan! Read my lips.
If you jeopardize the safety
of any of my men,
or any of those hostages
because you've not been listening to me,
I will take off this police uniform
and I will make you pay for it.
You want me to buy your police
uniform off you?
No. I'll give you a fucking good hiding,
is that clear?
Yes, that's clear. Yes.
That's clear.
You're close to me.
Now, you're a smart bloke,
I know you can handle it.
- I know you won't disappoint me.
- I won't.
I aim to please you,
and I... I hope to impress you.
- Good man.
- Yeah, you're a good man too.
Right, well, Dom will fill you in.
He has to say all that
shit for the insurance.
- Right.
- Tell me this much, mate.
- What's your favourite siege?
- Iranian Embassy.
Same. Why?
They used the sound of a pneumatic drill
to disguise the noise of them removing
bricks from a neighbouring wall.
- So they could smash through and...
- Take them out the game.
It's just a great siege.
Right.
Do you want to see my gun?
Does erm... Yes, please.
Let's clock the Glock.
You'll have to move quicker than that.
- Any last messages for your kids?
- Oh... Er...
No, they don't speak to me any more.
Yeah, "Why don't you
speak to me any more?"
I wouldn't know the answer, would I?
So just um... just...
tell them I love them.
Pat, Alan's coming in now.
- Greg!
- Oh... Hey, Alan. Thanks.
- They let you go as well?
- I'm relieved to be getting out of there.
- Aren't there still women in there?
- Yeah, well...
I think it would be a bit sexist
to let all the women go out first.
Yeah. Sleep well, Greg.
Thanks.
Pat?
Pat?
Pat?
- Prepare to die.
- I'm not ready to!
Alan, it's OK, it's OK, it's me.
It's me - Pat.
God, you...
I just thought a little jokey costume
would, you know, put you at ease,
- give you a giggle.
- Well... mission accomplished.
Oh, God.
- It's great to see you.
- Good to see you, too.
I bought you some cake,
not that you deserve it after that.
I should just crush it in my hand.
Oh, I already have.
- How the devil are you?
- Yeah, not bad, not bad.
How are you feeling?
- Great!
- Good.
Oh, er... the police told
me to bring you this.
It's just a standard field phone,
should you feel the inclination
to communicate with ze authorities.
Good thing about these things, they're
immune to the problems and glitches
you get with satellite phones.
But, like I say, it's
just an option, really.
I just realised, when you asked me
now how I was feeling, you meant...
Yes, I did.
- Does this answer your question?
- Yes, it does.
Oh, hello.
Didn't see you there.
Someone's been in the wars.
- That's just Simon.
- Can he breathe through that?
Of course. It's just
like wearing a mask.
At least when someone puts you in
a mask, you've got a safe word,
like "airbag", or "crayfish".
What's the er...
That thing?
Oh, we made that. It's a head holster.
- Never heard of one of those.
- Yeah, I'll show you. Simon?
You insert the shotgun.
Place on stand.
And... voil.
Hands free. I can move around
the studio, do anything I want.
And if something happens...
I don't even have to look.
Boom. Hit the target.
Yeah... well,
you don't need an accomplice.
Well, I've got you now.
Yeah.
Thank you.
So you're with the police now?
Oh, this... no, this is just...
I think it's Velcro.
There you go.
Feck the police.
I think they thought that
if they did take a pot shot at you -
it's a siege, you've got a gun -
that the bullet might pass through you
and hit me.
Unless they use dum-dums,
which explode inside the body.
I said, do not use dum-dums on
Pat Ferrell, Farrell, Ferrell.
Just use a high-velocity round
that passes through his body
because he's a friend of mine.
And I suppose if I want to shoot you,
I can always aim for the head.
Exactly. Exactly.
Um... I don't even
know why I'm wearing it.
- So take it off.
- I'll happily take it off.
Go on, then.
- If you want me to, I'll take it off.
- Fucking take it off!
Oh, Pat, now you're making
me want to wear it.
This is not my bag.
I'm-I'm-I'm... a disc jockey.
I'm sorry you got the sack.
I'm 55 years old, I should be at home in
bed watching funny videos on YouTube.
"Sneezing panda" or
"Charlie bit my finger".
Have you seen
"Fat woman falls down the hole"?
- That's hilarious. Isn't it?
- Yeah.
I've seen it before, but, yeah.
That... That should be fenced off really,
but erm... I'm glad it wasn't.
Great.
Oh, yeah, I'm supposed to ask,
where are the hostages?
In there.
Oh, my God!
That's like some son of zoo
from Planet Of The Apes.
Danny looks a bit... bruised.
I lost my temper a couple of times.
- Three times.
- Yeah. Yeah, yeah, it was three.
Go and say hello.
- Give him a slap yourself, if you want.
- Oh, no...
No, I'll just...
I'll just say hello.
- Alan...
- Look, do the police know we're here?
Alan! What the hell's going on?
Hey! Hey, hey, hey!
Cool it with the cross-talk,
you're professional broadcasters.
- I'm not, I'm a writer.
- We'll get through this with each other.
I want everyone to shake hands with everyone
else. Now! Whether you want to or not.
This is ridiculous.
Ow.
Hello, er... Connor.
- Paper.
- Hi.
OK. Pat will not communicate
directly with the police.
Only through me.
So as of now, I am bullhorn.
- But I think we're gonna be OK.
- OK? He hit me!
Let's not get into who hit who or,
you know, who may have deserved it.
You need to keep him away from me.
Understand?
What I need to do, Danny,
in conjunction with Jason,
is crisis management.
I'm sure he'll agree
there has been plenty of crisis...
- But no management.
- Cowabunga. Walk with me.
Alan, you do realise
you're in the box seat here?
You've got the guy's confidence.
Yeah. I don't know why.
I go for a curry with him once a year,
and even then I don't have a starter.
Trouble is, he does.
All I need to know is can
you handle it?
Well, er...
Would you ask that of a man
who'd gone paint-balling,
realised he'd left his goggles at
reception but carried on anyway?
- Why?
- You're looking at him.
OK, guys,
quick wa-wa.
Just had a pow-wow with Jase,
upshot is...
I'm gonna be his right-hand
man on this one.
He'll be um... my left-hand man.
- Er...
- Sorry.
The point is,
Pat has not gone mad.
He has a grievance.
He needs some son of outlet.
This is Pat Farrell, welcoming you to Roll
Out The Farrell on North Norfolk Digital.
OK. Pat may have...
may have gone mad.
He may have gone mad.
And now we have a text from
Cynthia in Holt, who writes,
Dear Pat, we are sending you a bottle...
- Ma'am, you'd better listen to this.
- ...of our homemade plum brandy.
We use it to make brandy butter...
- Why am I listening to shit radio?
- That's Pat Farrell, ma'am.
He's broadcasting from the siege.
Mm, yum, Cynthia.
Can't wait.
Can you gently remind Pat
that we had an agreement?
You are there to communicate with us.
Listen, I don't know what it says
in your police operation manual...
- ..or in Psycho-babble Weekly.
- Penguin Book of Sieges.
...or The Penguin Book of Sieges,
...but out here in the field,
it's plenty different.
I've got a guy with a gun and a gripe
to grind, and he say, "No speaky."
I would really like to establish
a dialogue here, Alan.
A simple tri-lateral exchange,
from Pat, to you, to me, to you, to Pat.
- Do you understand?
- No more interruptions or else!
You think I don't have balls?
I've got plenty of balls!
I've got balls coming
out of my arse!
- Er... did you hear that?
- Yes.
Well, that's... that's the
end of the call. Bye.
You are listening to
North Norfolk Digital.
Shape.
The Way You Want It To Be.
Shape: The way you want it to be
- Where are all my jingles?
- Jason wanted them deleted.
- He won't have deleted them all.
- He did delete them all.
- He did delete them all, Pat.
- What?
- It was jingle genocide.
- That's not helping, Simon.
The bastard. Alan, take over for me.
- No.
- I'm gonna straighten him out.
Oh, and... keep it light.
Right, um... OK.
You're listening to the
Pat and Alan Show.
- Mainly Pat.
- You, Jason. Yeah, you.
We'll be asking... w-what time...
...does mike paper slider
switch to... to...
to mouse his chocolate cups?
- It doesn't make sense.
- It doesn't make sense
but if you can rearrange to make sense
then you could win... bins...
and win...
...and windows.
- Alan, help me!
- So that's our win a bin and window,
re-arrange the sentence,
keep it light, competition.
Oh, shit.
This is the theme from Ski Sunday.
Sorry for swearing.
Theme tune
I've put up with shits like
you for most of my life...
One hour.
And if that jingle isn't word for word
what I just said,
I am going to shoot you in the feet,
then the knees, then the hands.
And basically anything you've
got two of, like your face.
Oh, yeah. Two-faced.
One hour.
One hour? This is impossible.
I'm gonna fucking die.
What are we gonna do?
You can't do a top-quality
jingle in an hour.
We can do this. Let me
tell you a story, um...
Back in the day, I was MC-ing a
conference for Reynard Pharmaceuticals.
Some of the marketing guys
were doing karaoke.
I didn't join in,
I tended to shun Japanese culture.
This was the mid-90s,
it was more acceptable.
But high on a cocktail of champagne
and cheap Fosters lager,
I lunged at the microphone.
A few minutes later,
I was making grown men cry
with my rendition of Summer Of '69
by Bryan Adams.
Thing is, I twisted the
lyrics to the Summer Of '29,
evoking memories of the Wall Street
Crash and German hyperination.
- Remember, these guys were in sales.
- Alan, where are you going with this?
The point is, he didn't think
he was any good at singing,
and it turns out he was quite good.
- Yeah, that.
- And that if you really, really try
- you can do anything.
- And that.
I don't care! I'm going to fucking die!
Hey, hey, I'm trying to save your head,
shoulders, knees and toes.
- Knees and toes.
- OK, man up, musos.
- I played synth in a jazz funk band.
- Great, who else?
I used to be the drummer
in Marillion.
Really? There's no time for that.
- But wow and great.
- What are you gonna do first?
I'm gonna lay down a rhythm track.
Oh.
Lynn Benfield?
- I am she.
- Do you know Mr Alan Partridge?
OK.
He wasn't stealing crisps.
He just gets ustered at
self-service checkouts
- and takes things without scanning them.
- Miss Benfield...
He doesn't like being told to put things
in bagging areas by automated women.
No, Miss Benfield, we're here
because Mr Partridge is
currently involved in an armed siege.
- Oh.
- We're informing you as his next of kin.
Take me to him.
Pat Farrell had a loyal following in
The local community
But Goredale Media
fucked him over
Cos they don't care about loyalty
The only things they give a shit about
Is the profit margins
And if they don't re-instate him
He'll take it out on the hostages
Even the ones with kids
Better get yourself some body bags
That was beautiful.
- Could you make me some more?
- Ooh. Er...
- Definitely!
- Yes, maybe.
Local folk trio Will'o-the-wisp
won't be coming in now.
Apparently, there are road closures
in Norwich due to a major police...
Thanks for waiting, Miss Benfield.
We're speaking to anyone who can
help us build a picture of Pat Farrell.
- You said you know him?
- Ah, well...
I made three cakes for
him over the last year.
But there was nothing in them
that would have led him to do this.
- They were very plain.
- That's not one of our lines of investigation.
Just tell us what you know about Pat.
Irish. Shock of brown, curly hair.
He's a strong man, with strong arms
and a good walk. Moves well.
- That's very helpful, Lynn.
- Oh.
- Thank you.
- Now, how about some coffee?
Oh, of course. How do you take it?
No, no, we'll get it for you.
Just sit there, I'll be back.
Oh...
Wichita Lineman
I hate all this shit.
Telling us how to speak.
They think they're giving us
an identity but they're...
Turning us into nobodies.
We're just unit-shifters
for the money men.
Sounds quite good.
Alan, did you ever imagine
what life would be like in your 50s?
I had hopes and dreams.
I think we all did.
Penny for them.
Keep the penny,
you've got a gun.
But, yeah, I used to dream that one day
I'd drive a brand-new Range Rover
towing a speed boat.
I used to dream about growing old
with someone I love.
Hm. Both valid.
It's not gonna happen now, is it?
I miss my Molly so much.
- Who's this chap?
- That's Molly.
Yes, of course.
She's got such... brown hair.
A year after that was
taken, the angels took her.
Must have been a few of them.
Now I've nobody.
No wife.
No family. No kids.
I've gotta say, Pat, kids
don't make you happy.
Some of the unhappiest times of my life
have been with my kids.
I remember...
a holiday on the
beach in Prestatyn.
The kids came over to me and said,
"Papa, Papa! Follow me,"
and... you know...
I followed them about 200 yards
across the sand dunes.
When I got there, finally,
all they'd done was dug a big hole.
Miserable.
Sounds lovely.
And the Wichita lineman
Is still on the line
Go-o-o-od morning!
Crayfish!
I feel absolutely great.
There's a lot to be said
for a good sleep and a hot shower.
Yeah.
Sleep well, Alan?
Er... yes, thank you.
As the Shape siege enters
its first morning,
police are refusing to confirm
the number or identities of the hostages
still being held at gunpoint
by sacked DJ, Pat Farrell.
Fellow DJ Alan Partridge
is in contact with the police
who are now set up at
the school behind me.
What would you like us to play, Iris?
Always On My Mind by Willie Nelson.
Aw.
I would love to, Iris, but unfortunately
that's not in the system.
We are only allowed
play-approved tracks.
But, Pat, you've got a gun.
You can play whatever you like.
Leave it with me
and I'll see what I can do, OK?
Remember we used to choose
our own records?
Yeah. Or put on a compilation album if
you were tired or couldn't be bothered.
Yeah.
You like country music, Alan?
Can't say I do, Pat.
It's just jilted spouses
complaining whilst drunk.
Also known as a date, if you're over 40.
When a listener asks for a song
and I don't have it,
I feel like I've let them down.
And Willie Nelson
was Molly's favourite too.
And Always On My Mind
was her favourite song.
Do you remember that?
The old road show bus.
Remember it? I took my
family camping in that.
- Yeah?
- That was a tough nine days.
You see, this bus brought
joy to hundreds.
I wonder where it is now.
Probably impounded
after it crushed those scouts.
No, no, it's in the basement.
- Oh?
- Yeah.
- Did not know that.
- I used... Oh!
- Forgot the record. Hold that, will you?
- Sure.
- Give me the gun, Alan.
- Yeah.
- The gun, Alan.
- I was looking at my clothes before.
Some people call it gear, don't they?
Others call it an outfit.
But I call it clobber!
Jesus!
Alan! Alan!
Alan! Alan, give me the gun!
- Armed police, stay where you are!
- Give me the gun.
Drop the weapon!
Alan!
Alan, open the door.
I'm just trying to find
some way to escape.
Alan! Alan!
Ayatollah!
He's got a shooter.
Aargh!
- You all right, Alan?
- Yeah, I'm fine.
Cuddle me, cop!
Argh!
Target down.
Yours, I believe.
You probably thought I was gay
when I gave you that cuddle.
Don't worry, I'm not.
- You're really cool, Alan.
- Yeah, we think you're cool.
Thank you. Sorry, who are you?
Jason Statham.
Jason Bourne.
Jason Argonaut.
- Jason Argonaut?
- Mm.
- It's Jason and the Argonauts.
- Yes.
Are you all right?
You just said, "clobber"
and then "Jason and the Argonauts".
- Oh, sorry.
- All right.
- We go?
- Yeah.
Oh, er... by the way,
thanks for not taking the gun.
Oh... that's fine.
You're listening to Pat Farrell.
This is Willie Nelson,
Always On My Mind.
For someone who's always on my mind,
my late wife Molly.
Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
Maybe I didn't treat you...
- Does that man look 59 to you?
- I didn't look.
- I just put his name into Google Images.
- This is Pat Farrell.
That is a Pat Farrell.
Do I have to do everything?
Ma'am, you better hear this.
It's taken from the
transcript of the broadcast.
0100 hours. "Partridge:
I wish this was abroad because it would
make a brilliant Banged Up Abroad.
Farrell: What's Banged Up Abroad?
Partridge: You don't know Banged Up Abroad?
Farrell: No.
Partridge: Everyone
knows Banged Up Abroad.
Farrell: I don't. What
is Banged Up Abroad?
Partridge: You seriously don't know
Banged Up Abroad?
You have to be shitting me.
Farrell: I've never even heard of..."
Just get to the bit where they stop
saying Banged Up Abroad.
"Side-kick Simon:
I once banged up a broad.
Partridge: That's the best you've got,
even with a gun to your head?"
He's got a gun to his head.
I remember once coming to
in a skip in the middle of the afternoon
with my underpants in my mouth.
And then I realised:
"Oh, these are not my pants!"
Oh, I can laugh about it now
but, you know, back then...
Sssh, ssh. What's that?
Move into position, over.
It's the police.
If you like canaps that are on the
turn, we've hit the motherload.
Oblong plate, square bowl. Go figure.
Whatever happened to circles?
I mean I've heard of a square meal
but that's ridiculous.
I was just saying
I've heard of a square meal.
Alan! Alan! Ssh, ssh.
OK.
- We think it's the police.
- Wait.
- That definitely came from in there.
- That's just a cupboard.
- It's not even an outside wall.
- Careful.
- No, Jason...
- I'll protect you.
It's not an outside wall.
Look, I'll show you. Look.
- Michael?
- Aye, aye, Mister Partridge.
What are you hiding in there for?
I found myself a place of concealment,
like when I was on manoeuvres.
Take your light off.
You're blinding everyone you speak to.
- Now it's ashing.
- Sorry.
Michael. You look like some
sort of big Geordie Anne Frank.
- How long have you been here?
- All night.
- What did you eat?
- I had me lunch box.
- Where did you go to the toilet?
- No.
I had me lunch box.
Thank God it's got a smoky finish
with an airtight seal.
I tell you what. It
seals in the freshness.
No, Michael. It seals out the freshness.
What is going on in here?
Michael's just visiting
us from the cupboard.
No need to get shouty-shouty.
Did those Goredale bastards
put you up to this?
- No.
- No, no. I've been in here a few nights.
- No, one night.
- No, a few nights.
A few nights this week
and the week before.
- Why?
- Me brother wanted the bed to himself.
Ah, yes.
Michael suffers from night terrors.
He thrashes about like a big salmon.
What's in the box?
Er... Michael... Michael
let himself down.
I'm really sorry.
I done a shit in the box.
Well, get rid of it.
Throw it out the window.
Fall back! Fall back!
Armed police!
- Identify yourself!
- Identify yourself!
Alan Partridge.
Who the f... Alan Partridge!
You know who I am.
I haven't been off the TV that long.
- "Identify yourself."
- Alan, it's OK, I'm here. You're safe.
Yeah, tell them to stop
pointing their guns at me.
- Lower your weapons.
- Yeah, lower your weapons.
Take your hand off your gun.
Take your hand off your gun.
And the other hand.
I can wait here all day.
Do as he says.
Thank you. Why do you have to
turn it into a competition?
Just because I won. OK.
OK. Stop. Pat, stop tugging me.
I told you I've got a
very sensitive tummy.
Who are you talking to, Alan?
I've got Pat on the end of
the line in both senses.
I'm tethered to the building via
this rope and relaying messages
from Pat via this state-of-the-art
Sennheiser 1,000 head set.
Nice bit of kit. Yeah, I'm
telling them that now.
If you'd listened, you'd
know I'm telling them.
- Pat says Hi".
- Hi, Pat.
And hi to your fellow officers.
Hi. Hi, Pat.
Alan, listen. Pat works with us here,
this can all end well. OK?
- I give him my word.
- OK, just... Yep.
OK. Pat, you've got to...
you're rambling.
You've got to be more concise.
What do you want? I want a helicopter."
That's just an example, by the way.
Yeah, OK. He wants a helicopter.
That might not
be possible, Alan.
But let's dialogue.
What else can we do for him?
Pat says, "Fucking stupid pigs.
What the hell's going on?"
Pat, listen to me. That
was not an attack, OK?
We just had to dispose of a box around
the corner in a controlled manner.
Pat would prefer it if you
spoke through me, as would I.
Marlin says they deployed
a remote RV fitted with a disruptor
to neutralise a suspected IED. He doesn't know
what you're talking about. He's quite angry.
He's honking in my ear
like a mad Irish goose.
- Aha!
- We love you, Alan!
Um... do you mind? It's
not a radio road show.
- I'm trying to host a siege here.
- We love you, Alan!
Get away. Who said that?
What's it like in there?
Ah... scary, stressful, lots of shouting.
A bit like being married again.
And there's a crazy person
running around with a gun.
So it's a lot like being married again.
And er... when I saw a guy with a shotgun
in his mouth begging for mercy then...
You're ahead of me.
You're ahead of me. A lot of you are.
He's still got his hand on his gun.
He thinks I don't know. Yeah, you.
- I'm looking at you. Peripheral vision.
- Alan.
I'm not retreating,
Pat's tugging me off.
No, come on.
- We're better than that. Guys, seriously.
- Alan, wait!
By the way, there's an extra hostage.
Meant to tell you that.
In a surprise development,
DJ Alan Partridge
appeared outside the building,
while tethered to a rope.
Footage of his address is already
one of the most viewed You Tube videos
since "Fat Woman Falls Down Hole".
Mr Partridge, whose Facebook page
lists one of his interests
as hand-to-hand combat,
has been acting as mediator between police
and the hostage-taker, Pat Farrell.
As people around the world ask,
who is Alan Partridge?
That was a majestic voice.
You can keep Jesus. As far as I'm concerned,
Neil Diamond will always be King of the Jews.
You are listening to...
- ..the partridge and the poacher.
And, what I believe is a world first,
I, Alan Partridge, a hostage,
broadcasting live from
a siege at gunpoint.
Pure class, Alan.
And today, we'll be asking,
what was better in the olden days?
OK, Pat, shoot.
I mean, you know, start speaking.
- Terry in Necton.
- Egypt.
- I'm liking this.
- They used to build the pyramids,
now they can't get you
a taxi to the airport.
Terry, I like the way you think.
Please call again.
- Will do.
- Nicholas in Weybourne.
- Nurses were better in the old days.
- Bull's-eye.
They used to be these Florence
Nightingale type figures.
These days it's just, you know,
short-haired women in trousers
washing their own hands at a sink.
Later on, I'll be asking which vegetable
has the greatest torsional strength -
ie, which can withstand the greatest
twisting load before rupture?
- Caroline in Sprowston.
- Beards were better in the olden days.
- Love it.
- Sebastian in Holt.
- UK manufacturing.
- Good. Good, but dull.
- Paul in East Runton.
- Kill 'em all, Pat.
Shoot the women first.
We'll also be asking, have you ever met
a genuinely clever bus driver?
I wonder what the listening
figures are for this.
Yeah. Can you stop drumming?
OK. Time for fact of the day.
Fact of the day.
Sponsored by Norfolk Dairies.
- Cows don't have hymens.
- Absolutely correct.
Cows do not have hymens,
just a partially opened cervix.
The time is 10:22.
Right now, to your muster stations.
It's Bryan Ferry.
Let's Stick Together
Ah... that was... that was er...
- Very good.
- Yeah. Radio gravy.
Wow.
I suppose you forget about the
gun after a while, don't you?
- No, I don't.
- OK.
Good.
Lynn! Lynn Benfield, can we have a word?
Oh, Alan doesn't like me
speaking to the press.
- We're not press. We're television.
- Well, I'm... I'm not really...
We've got hair and make-up.
Oh!
Back now to Norwich
where DJ Alan Partridge
- continues to bring news of the radio...
- Ah, Angela?
- Someone wants a word with you.
- Who?
Him.
Tensions on the Korean
peninsula continue...
- Why?
- ...following Kim Jong-il...
Oh... shit.
- .. Vegas, I was doing kind of...
..for anyone's price range...
...mounting tensions in North...
...erectile dysfunction...
- Inside, Partridge seems unfazed...
- Ah, him.
- Me on TV. Good photo.
- He tried instead
to calm the gunman by
joining him in the studio.
Yes, just your basic disabled loo.
You've got your lowered seat pan, back pad,
high-vis grab bar, panic cord, lady bin.
Alan, calm down. You're
being all hectic.
This is because you're on TV, isn't it?
You're all puffed up like a robin.
It's like you can see in me.
Alan, you didn't bring me in here to talk
about disabled toilet facilities, did you?
Yeah, I did. No, I didn't.
Oh, wow. Lynn, you look fantastic.
Good gracious.
I'm sorry about the nasal whistle.
It's when I'm anxious.
You know... You know,
"Shape - the way you want it to be"?
- Yeah?
- Your shape's the way I want it to be.
I'm on about your body.
- What might this be?
- That... is my damned todger.
And it's all the fault of
a certain Miss Angela...
I'm sorry, I don't
know your second name.
He's very brave.
He was once feeding ducks in the park.
One took a peck at him and
instead of retreating,
- he hit it with the back of his hand.
- DJ Alan Partridge...
- Hi. You got time for a quick wah-wah?
- What?
- Quick wah-wah.
- Oh, you mean "wa-wa"?
- Yeah. Yeah.
- Sorry. You just did a different noise.
- Sorry.
Look... how are you feeling about this
whole media circus? How you feeling?
Between you and me, pretty puffed up.
- Like an owl.
- Let's hope you're a wise one.
Nice. I pitched it up,
you knocked it out of the park.
Synergy. Oh, no, that's lesbians.
Let me tell you something, Alan.
As far as the press is concerned,
you are the face of this siege.
- I am siege face.
- Exactly.
After this, you'll get more offers
than a whore at our Christmas party.
I like that. Yeah, I like that.
- Yeah.
- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
You'd know a thing or two about that,
wouldn't you?
That would be... "Mm-hm. Hmm," he says.
That's a moustache.
Seriously, did you give her one?
Well, I... I gave her a ruddy big kiss
she won't forget in a hurry.
Hand on the outside of the bra.
Er... you know, reconnaissance.
And then I just held her in my arms because she
told me she never knew her mother, and I said,
"Well, my mother raised me
and lived to a ripe old age.
But guess what?
I never really knew her."
Erm... and...
To get back on track, erm...
Yeah, I mean... Yeah, whoo!
- I like you.
- I like you.
He likes me, Lynn. Jason
Tresswell likes me.
- Alan? Are you OK?
- I've got to be quick.
Pat thinks I've borrowed his phone
to play Angry Birds.
- Of course. What is it?
- A computerised bird-throwing game.
- No, I meant...
- I'm joking, Lynn.
Enjoy me. Everyone else is.
Goredale Media think
I'm some sort of Christ 2.0.
Do you know, I'm within a brair's headth
of getting the breakfast show.
I'll call myself the Morning Rooster,
or the Talking Cock.
- You're not thinking clearly.
- Yes, I am.
Lynn, I'll say this once
and I'll say it again.
My career's getting a shot in the arm and
if I can stay in here to the bitter end,
I will be the biggest thing to come out
of Norwich since... Lord Nelson or Trisha.
Think about that and what that means.
Your priority is the
welfare of the hostages.
Good - put that out as a press release
and say I said it.
Alan, your ego's getting
the better of you.
I've just got to stay alert and focused.
I'm playing them like an oboe, Lynn.
How effed up is that?
- Alan? Alan?
- Oh...
Ohh! Christ's sake.
Not now. Oh, God.
I'm caught on the latch.
Oh, come on. Please.
Stop, armed police!
Get your hands above your head.
- I've just got...
- Get your hands above your head!
- I want to get those trousers.
- Do it! Hands above your head.
- They're my trousers.
- Get your hands above your head now!
What are you doing? It's weird.
There are paparazzi all over the place
and I do not want them
to get a photograph of my genitals.
- Oh, come on!
- That's it, look at me.
And how were the hostages when you left?
- Crouched.
- I mean, what's their state of mind?
Oh. Er... If I'm honest, a bit moany.
Yeah. Is someone writing this down?
- Yeah.
- Sorry. I thought you were some clothes.
Thanks for the forensic
trousers, by the way.
- Could you just um...?
- Crikey. Yeah, sorry.
I was actually going to fashion a
sort of make-shift modesty sporran
from the vacant arm flaps.
OK, I think we're done here.
Any chance of freshening up? I just need
to wipe my face with a big hot towel.
Presumably you wanna use me
as part of your media strat?
No.
- Do you agree?
- 100 per cent.
Gotcha.
The police said you could do media
interviews when the siege is over.
It will be too late then, Lynn. People
move on. Goredale Media will move on.
But you're still being talked about.
Only cos every time I look at the telly,
they're showing a picture of my arse.
It's all right for you. Every other time I
look, they show a picture of your face.
And then the next time -
surprise, surprise, my arse again.
I was only telling people about you.
You know, I was Goredale's golden goose,
and now I'm just Partridge pie, with peas.
But why do you want to work
for people like that?
- Goredale are bullies.
- Yeah. And what do you do with a bully?
You make friends with the bully
so they bully someone else.
- "What doth it profit a man..."
- Doth?
"..If he gains the whole world yet loses
his soul?" Matthew, chapter eight...
Yeah, I know who wrote it.
I'm not going to sell my soul, Lynn.
I want to, if you like,
lend my soul to Goredale Media
on a long-term basis for cash.
It's a very different thing.
I don't know how
you can look yourself in the eye.
I can't, Lynn. My nose is in the way.
You can talk,
prattling away on every news bulletin.
I mean, who the heck
do you think you are?
- I'm Lynn Benfield.
- You don't look like Lynn Benfield.
I mean, what has happened to you,
with your attitude and your hair?
You've literally become a big head.
- I like it.
- I take no pleasure in saying this, Lynn,
but a lot of people think it looks
like a photograph of an explosion.
I don't know if I want to
work for a man like you.
I don't know that I want to employ
someone who looks like a madam.
And I don't mean a Parisian one -
I mean, one who lives in a terraced
house behind a train station.
- Doors opening!
- Armed police! Armed police!
Oh, shut up, will you?
Stop shouting.
- Easy, Pat. Mind the steps.
- I'm able to walk down steps, all right?
He means because the gun's
against my head.
- Everybody has an opinion, huh?
- Hear, hear. Well said.
- On.
- Hi, Pat.
Hey, Alan. What happened?
We were in the middle of a show,
and then your arse is all
over the internet.
Looked like you had a turkey's head
between your legs.
No, it didn't. No, it didn't.
It doesn't have a beak.
And, yeah, I took an executive decision
to stow my cock and balls up
against my backside.
I can't believe you left
me with this nutcase.
Hang on a minute, you're
the one with the gun.
- See? He's hilarious.
- He's solid. He's solid.
- Pizzas coming through now, Pat.
- Hey. Hey, hey. Hold on. Helmet off.
Oh, hello.
Actually, I want Alan to bring them in.
That might not be possible, Pat.
Alan's not prepared to do that.
No... I am prepared to do that.
- It's not that simple.
- Do you want me to release some people?
Sure. Let's talk about that.
Alan, what do you reckon
if I let the women go?
Yeah, let a couple of the women go.
Maybe keep Angela.
- But her kids will be worried sick.
- She's got kids?
Yeah. Two boys, 14 and 15.
I believe they're a real handful.
Yeah, what was I thinking?
Let all the women go.
Pat, give me five minutes
with head office.
He's bringing them in now.
Alan, come on.
- Top one.
- Top one.
- Yeah, yeah, cheers, guys. Top one.
- OK, come on, son.
Oh, shit.
Why did you say hello
to that delivery guy?
Oh, him? No, he just reminded me
of a man I know called Mike Cable,
who did my accounts from '97 to '98.
Actually, no. '99.
Till he stopped
because his daughter was very ill.
Yeah, it was touch and go, actually.
He and Sandra were in bits,
they had to cancel their holiday.
- It was a y-drive to Tuscany.
- Hm.
I must tell him, actually, that there's
a policeman that looks just like him.
What's that?
Must tell Mike that there's a pizza man
who looks just like him.
I'm famished.
- Ladies, you're free to go.
- What?
- Yep.
- God bless you, Pat.
See you. Bye.
I'll make you a home-made pizza
when you get out.
Yeah, these pizzas are pretty good.
- Cinderella.
- Yeah, well...
No, hers was... that was
a glass one, wasn't it?
Here comes the Tin Man.
- Just trying to find your pizza.
- Well, just give me that one.
- Hm?
- That one.
- Which one?
- The top one.
Oh...
- I'll take the pizzas.
- Oh, yeah. Yeah.
Woo-ho, stuffed crust!
- Thanks for coming back, Alan.
- What are you doing?
- I'm just seeing how you'll look
on the billboard for when you start
on The Breakfast Show.
- The Breakfast Show?
- Alan, can I have a word?
Yeah, sure.
Just bringing the pizza cutter.
Right, how many do you want.
Six or eight?
Oh, my God, that's a taser!
This is no use, it's a pizza cutter.
And that is not a pizza.
Thing is, how did it get there?
Erm...
Unless the pizza company are running
a competition in which you win a taser.
That doesn't make sense, does it?
Do you realise, it's the police?
The ruddy po... Do you know... They've got
some brass neck for a bunch of coppers.
I'm actually really angry about that.
You should keep that as an extra weapon.
What kind of fool do you take me for, eh?
I'm one step ahead of all of you.
And I'm just a step behind you, mate.
- Ooh.
- Never take your eye off the ball, Pat.
First rule of business.
Second rule of business,
always be prepared for an opportunity
when it arises, like I was just then.
Yeah.
Course I wouldn't expect you to
understand that. It's Darwinian.
- You're a runt.
- Is that what you think, Alan?
I wouldn't quite, you
know, use those words.
Well, I think... I think...
The sort of the gist
of what, you know...
I just don't like bullies.
- Um... can I take this off, please?
- Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure.
- No, I'm talking to him.
- Oh, for fuck's sake.
- Yeah, go ahead.
- Thank you.
Are you all right?
Well, I was worried about the old head
but I think I've got a handle on it.
- Very witty.
- Alan's a smart cookie, Pat.
He's treated this whole crisis
like a business opportunity.
He's taken a look around him and he's
thought, "How can I make this work for me?"
- Well done, Alan.
- Cheers.
- Yeah, well done, Alan.
- Thank you.
You know, you and me,
we've got something going here.
Pat might be a dinosaur, filling his show
with chit-chat and phone-ins like it's 1983,
but you're one of us.
You know radio's just business.
You'll do well out of this.
And er... I'll get you a glamorous
assistant with big tits
to take over from that frumpy old cow
you've got at the moment.
You know, Mrs fucking Doubtfire.
Danny, er...
Jason gave me your breakfast show.
- Yeah.
- Is that true?
- Well...
- Twat.
Oh, my God.
Go! Go! Go!
Armed police!
Armed police! Everybody stay down!
- Stay down! Don't move! Don't move!
- Have you got any scissors?
Have you got any scissors?
Armed police! Armed police!
Studio's empty. Where's Farrell?
Where's Partridge?
Roll out the barrel...
Get into position,
get in front of that bus!
We got three on a bus. Three on a bus.
I want a green light on a sniper now.
This cannot be happening.
Jeez, Alan. Look at this.
Quite alarming, isn't it?
Er... I think... I think we'll be fine.
Thanks for doing this, Alan. I wanted
to stick it to Goredale one more time.
I don't mind in the slightest, Pat.
Goredale are tits.
Right, coppers, I've got nae tax, nae
insurance and I'm not wearing a seatbelt.
What are you going to do about
it this time?
- Start the car! Start the car!
- Let's go!
Right, let's give them some stick.
You're listening to Pat and Alan
with a message for the Goredale Medias
of this world.
If you think you can take real DJs
and turn them into radio robots,
think again -
because we're gonna get up in your face.
Great.
With a big fat slice of road show radio
right here, right now.
The time is 1:27.
This is John Farnham
and The Voice.
The Voice
Today we're asking, why do
people keep their eggs in the fridge?
Once again, why do people insist
on keeping their eggs in the fridge?
And can a binman reasonably expect
a Christmas tip
when he has point-blank refused
to dispose of a broken toaster?
- Good question!
- And that can be today's large question.
Large question.
Oh, and we have some travel news.
There's slow-moving traffic on the A149.
That'll be due to wacky blokes
on a big yellow bus.
It's competition time, and
we 're playing pairs.
- Sid on line two. Black and...
- Decker.
- Spick and...
- Span.
- Hall and...
- Oates.
- Egg and...
- Bacon.
Oh, it was gammon!
Can I just say, I
think Goredale are awful.
Yeah, they are bastards.
That's why I've washed my hands of them.
You know what I say?
I always say, "What doth it profit a man if
he gain the whole world yet lose his soul?"
And people seem to like that.
They really do.
You're the voice,
try and understand it
Make a noise and make it clear
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh-oh
Whoa-oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh!
We're not gonna sit in silence
We're not gonna live with fear
Whoa-oh, oh, oh, oh, oh-oh
It looks like you've
touched a nerve, Pat.
These are my listeners, Alan,
ordinary working people.
They're not working, it's the middle of the day.
Unless they're on exi-time.
Oh, look. I used to live in one
of those after my divorce.
TV, kitchen - very nice.
Hey, people, I'm looking
at a picture of Goredale Media.
Honestly, look at that bunch
of corporate mercenaries.
What's wrong with doing radio
for the love of radio?
They would do anything
for 30 pieces of silver.
You're listening to the Pat and Alan Show.
Radio for the love of radio.
- Sponsored by Castrol.
Just gonna use the loo.
- Alan?
- Hi.
Alan, I want to talk to you.
Alan?
Oh, hi, Pat.
Alan, how did you even get in there?
Um... I just removed an aluminium panel.
Slid straight in.
- Er... textbook. It's good, isn't it?
- Your voice sounds funny.
I think the conical shape of the toilet's turned
it into a sort of a compact amphitheatre.
- It's weird.
- It is, Pat. It's bizarre.
It is and was a failed escape attempt, a
sort of a Shitshank Redemption, if you will.
Ah. The Armitage Shank Redemption, eh?
Ha-ha-ha, ha-ha!
I'm laughing like a drain and I'm in one.
Shake hands, Pat. Friends.
Friends, Pat, friends.
Friends? I know what you did,
you fucking snake.
- "Just sack Pat."
- Huh?
- You're as bad as the rest of them.
- Pat, be reasonable.
Before you think of shooting anyone,
just for a second think,
what would drive a man to incarcerate
himself in the septic tank? It's pathetic.
- I'm not going to shoot you.
- Thank God for that. That's good news.
Sweet mother of God, no.
Oh, angels and saints preserve us!
Dear God, let them be firm!
Help!
Stop the bus!
- What's that?
- It's a septic tank. You can have it.
Oh... not again!
Damn gypsies tampered with the sights.
Trust me, Susan.
Ow! Jesus!
Suspect is on Cromer...
You're a fucking clown, Alan.
Ah. Hi, Pat.
I trusted you, Alan.
I thought we were friends.
- But you let me down.
- Well, I...
- You got me sacked.
- Over here! Pat!
Look!
Oh, shit!
What was that?
I think it was supposed to be
some sort of distraction. Yeah.
- Brave but pointless.
- Excuse me?
Oh, God, get back inside. Quick, now!
- We want to get down there.
- Do you mind? This is an armed stand-off.
- Where were we?
- I got you sacked.
- Yeah, you let me down.
- Pat, listen to me.
- I've got this.
- Pardon?
- I said, I've got this.
- How long is it going to go on for?
- Shut up!
- He's telling you to shut up.
- Calm down.
- Didn't get that.
- Too close to your mouth.
- Calm down.
- It's too close to your mouth!
- Did you get that?
What?
She's saying, if you put your air ries
back, you won't be in too much trouble.
- This is a shotgun.
- This is an air rie. That's a shotgun.
We'll leave you to it.
I surrender.
Pat?
Pat?
- I brought Molly to this pier.
- Happy times.
I scattered her ashes here.
Ah.
Buried at sea.
Like Bin Laden.
And now here we are.
The circle of life.
Cirque du Soleil.
Turn your head away.
Let's just calm down.
- Pat, come on.
- Turn your head away.
- Pat, listen to me...
- Pat, you're scaring me.
- I won't ask again.
- Pat, I need you to stay calm.
Turn your head away.
Maybe I didn't love you,
quite as often as I could have
What are you doing?
Maybe I didn't treat you,
quite as good as I should have
Stop it!
And if I made you feel second best
Girl, I'm sorry I was blind
But you were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
Maybe I...
- Pat, are you ready to...
Shut up, you dick!
Pat, what are you doing?
: I want to be with Molly.
What?
I want to be with Molly.
- Pat, don't do this.
- Pat, don't do this!
Unbelievable.
- I can't reach the trigger.
- Pat, come on.
Would you do it for me?
Yeah, course I will, mate.
Course I will.
It's over, Pat.
No more hurting.
Ow!
Aaargh!
You fucking idiot!
Shit.
- Stay with me, Alan. Stay with me.
- They've blown me to bits, Lynn.
I feel cold.
It's all right, Alan. God is with us.
We had some mad times, didn't we, Lynn?
There's some blood coming from my mouth,
Lynn.
- It's just spit.
- Is it? Oh, yeah.
- Alan, I'm really sorry.
- It's all right, Pat.
- You've still got the gun!
- Aargh!
Was I a good man, Lynn?
Was I a kind man?
Very kind.
I remember when you were defrosting your
freezer and you gave me all that bacon.
I'm ready, Lynn.
I think I'm ready.
Oh. Hello, Mister Seagull.
Have you come to take my spirit away?
Go, gull!
Gull... gull... gull.
What are you doing?
I'm watching it y off.
It's weird, Lynn.
Yours will be the last face I ever see.
- Oh, good.
- Hi there. You're gonna be OK.
- I've been shot in the heart.
- Your heart's there. It's your shoulder.
No, that... that's my heart. Ow!
- Can I have my job back now?
- Yeah, if you want.
Always On My Mind
Maybe I didn't love you
How long have
you been a paramedic?
- About four years.
- Right.
And do you start in St John's Ambulance
and then work your way up
or are they separate organisations?
- They're separate...
- She can answer for herself, Lynn.
- They are separate organisations.
- Right.
- Are you courting?
- Well...
Not you, Lynn!
North Norfolk's best music mix.
We've had a letter
from Louise in Thetford,
who says, "I'm sick to the back teeth
of people poking fun at garden gnomes.
They may be small and strange-faced, but they
bring a lot of pleasure to a lot of people."
Now, that's a letter, once upon a time
I would have found offensively dull.
- Yeah.
- Not now.
So maybe everything that happened
has changed you.
I think I have changed a little bit.
Well, for my part,
I was a bit worried about my head...
- Here we go.
- But um...
- I think I've got a handle on it now.
- Oh, yeah, that's a good joke.
You've used that joke
about three or four times now.
- I don't know if you're aware of that.
- I use it too much?
I wouldn't say that. I just think
we're in that area and... you know.
- What about the hat?
- Good for the bin, I reckon.
- Lose it?
- Yeah.
But I think, like you say,
you're coming on leaps and bounds...
and I think, 12 months' time,
you'll probably have forgotten
there ever was a siege.
- What siege?
- Er... exactly. That's good.
- You haven't really forgotten?
- No.
OK, time now for our weekly phone call
with incarcerated DJ Pat Farrell.
- It's...
Ring-ring from Sing-Sing!
Hello, Pat. Wagwan!
Er... Hi, Alan.
OK, this week's question comes from Sue,
a dental hygienist from Grantham.
She asks, "Prison time is
often referred to as porridge
but do they actually serve porridge,
and if so, is it compulsory?"
Yeah, they serve porridge
but you can have other things.
Thanks, Pat. We'll have another question
for you next week, until then...
Keep your nose clean, boy.
The Number One Song in Heaven
It's number one all over heaven
It's number one all over heaven
It's number one all over heaven
The number one song all over heaven
If you should die before you awake
If you should die while
crossing the street
The song that you'll hear, I guarantee
Colby, Philip?
If you guys don't dig the sounds,
sling us your pod, I'll dock it.
You won't like it.
Guys, I dig a lot of stuff.
A good beat's a good beat.
All The Wrong Places
All the wrong places
Sorry, not listening to that.
It's number one all over heaven
It's number one all over heaven
It's number one all over heaven
The number one song all over heaven
The song filters down,
down through the clouds
It reaches the earth
and winds all around
And then it breaks
up in millions of ways
It goes la, la, la, la, la la, la la
La, la, la la, la la, la la
La, la, la la, la la, la la
La, la, la la, la la,
la, la, la, la-la-la
Whoo, in cars it becomes a hit
For God's sake, if
it's that important...
All The Wrong Places
Toe to toe
We all stand tall
Row by row
All eyes glow
Like a rabbit in the headlights
Get your head right
Start a new life
Shiver in the moonlight
You must embrace it cos
if not you'll waste it
You're looking for love
in all the wrong places
All the wrong places...
Sorry, that is awful.
The Number One Song in Heaven
...or soft as a doubt
Lyrically weak,
but the music's the thing
Gabriel plays it, God,
how he plays it
Gabriel plays it, God,
how he plays it
Gabriel plays it, God,
how he plays it
Gabriel plays it,
let's hear him play it
It's number one all over heaven
It's number one all over heaven
It's number one all over heaven
The number one song all over heaven
The song filters down,
down through the clouds
It reaches the earth and
winds all around
And then it breaks up
in millions of ways
It goes la, la, la, la, la la, la la
La, la, la la, la la, la la
La, la, la la, la la, la la
La, la, la la, la la, la,
la, la, la-la-la
Whoo, in cars it becomes a hit
And in your home it becomes
advertisements
And in the streets it becomes
children singing
Ooh, la, la, la, la, la
Ooh, la, la, la, la, la
Ooh, la, la, la, la, la
Ooh, la, la, la, la, la...