(# INTRO TO MAIN THEME BEGINS QUIETLY)
(INTRO FADES)
I'd like to see the managing director
please. Buffery's the name.
Just one moment...
(CLICKS INTERCOM SWITCH)
Mr Ferret?
(FERRET) (OVER INTERCOM)
With cream, please.
No, Mr Ferret.
But I always have cream.
And sugar.
There's a Mr Buffery to see you.
Oh. Send him up, please.
Third floor, please.
Yes?
Yes.
(# MAIN 'RIMMER' THEME)
(KNOCKS ON DOOR)
(DOOR OPENS)
Mr Ferret?
Oooh!
(CHAIR SMASHES)
Just popped in to cancel our contract.
Good morning. You all right?
Mr, er...
- Rimmer, sir. 'Co-ordination'.
- Ah, yes.
Keep it up. Vital work.
Thank you.
'Co-ordination'?
I'll read those figures back again.
That's, er...
two pounds to win on 'Lively Lady'
and, er... a fiver on 'The Groper'.
- Ah.
- It's Mr Federmann, isn't it?
That's right. Yes.
Thank you.
(RIMMER) Mr Pumer?
Yes.
- Who are you?
- Rimmer. 'Co-ordination'.
- Ah.
- Please carry on.
Hello again, Mr Federmann.
Ah, hello.
(DOOR REFUSES TO LOCK)
(TOILET FLUSHES AFTER SEVERAL ATTEMPTS)
Ah, well. Back to the grindstone.
(RIMMER) It's, er Mr, er...?
- Crodder.
(RIMMER) ...Crodder.
(EMPHATICALLY) Crodder!
Is nothing sacred?
(CRODDER) Extraordinary thing
just happened in the toilet.
I was just going in and there's
a fellow there with a stop-watch.
That's Mr Rimmer. 'Co-ordination'.
Is he one of those ghastly
time-and-motion people?
I think he's working
for Mr Fairburn himself.
- Hello.
- Oh, morning.
- Can't hang about. Lots to do.
- Of course.
(TANYA) Mr Fromage and
Mr Waring, Mr Ferret.
Ah.
(FERRET) Good morning...
Well, you've come about
the advertising, I suppose?
Just over six months ago you undertook
our new advertising campaign.
We heard from you for
the first time yesterday.
You sent us some slogans
for advertising our dog food.
Good.
We don't make dog food, Mr Ferret.
(EMPHATICALLY) We... make... humbugs.
Oh.
And you're not thinking of
branching out into dog foods?
No.
(WITH MOUNTING ANGER) And if we were,
we would want something
more original than Woof makes
doggies bounce with health!
(RIMMER) We are working on a new
presentation concept, Mr Waring.
Mr Ferret will have it ready next week.
One week it is.
Make a note of that, Tanya.
(# TANGO 'LA CUMPARSITA'
FROM RECORD PLAYER)
(STOP-WATCH CLICKS)
(PUMER) Tango...
- Ah, yes.
My wife and I have been selected
for the South-East.
Congratulations!
Thank you.
I practise in the coffee-break.
Of course.
I don't have coffee...
Good Lord!
Well, coffee-break over.
(MUSIC COMES TO AN END)
(RIMMER) Thank you.
- Fine.
(FERRET) Thank you, Tanya.
That will be all for now... I'm afraid.
All right, Mr Ferret.
(RIMMER) If it's alright by you, sir,
I'll take over the office next door.
Oh, good. Yes.
Look, I tell you what
why don't you take it over?
Thank you.
Well, must be off.
- Time waits for no man.
- Yes.
(TANYA YELPS IN SURPRISE)
(FERRET) What have you done
to my water, Tanya?
(TANYA) The water board
have cut it off, sir.
(FERRET) Whatever did we do to them?
(TANYA) We never paid them, sir.
(FERRET) Money, money, money.
Whatever's the world coming to?
See you in the pub, later.
(PUMER) 'Night, Mr Ferret.
- Goodnight.
(TANYA) 'Night, Mr Ferret.
- Goodnight.
(FERRET) They'll be cutting off
the electricity next.
(FERRET GASPS
AS HE BANGS HIS NECK)
(RIMMER) Hello.
(FERRET) Oh, Mr Rimmer.
I was just conducting
a little experiment.
On the effect on office efficiency
of total darkness.
(RIMMER) Oh, yes.
I shouldn't bother to tell Mr Fairburn.
He's a little out of touch
with modern methods.
(CAT YOWLS)
(SLURRING WORDS) Good evening.
- Where have you been?
- I've been to lots of places...
- Paris... Rome...
- (IMPATIENTLY) Tonight?
Ah. Tonight I've been working late.
You come back here,
reeking of sex and scent
with a love-bite on your neck,
and you say you were working late!
It's not scent, my dear.
Nor is it a love-bite.
I've been washing my face
in Coca-Cole... Cola.
When all the lights went out
and I banged my neck on a fire...
extinguisher.
(DRUNKEN LAUGH)
(# 'RIMMER' THEME)
- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning, Yvonne.
- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning, Tanya.
You'll be working
in my office this morning.
Thank you, sir.
(# TANGO 'LA CUMPARSITA')
- Morning.
- Morning, Mr Pumer.
(# 'RIMMER' THEME RESUMES)
- Good morning, Mr Rimmer.
- Good morning, Mr Federmann.
(MUSIC ENDS)
- Any sign of Ferret yet, Tanya?
- No, sir.
(FERRET) Good morning!
(YVONNE) You're late, Mr Ferret...
(FERRET) Terrible traffic.
Terrible traffic yesterday.
Just like last week.
(CRODDER) Can't stop. It's all go this morning.
- Terrible traffic.
(CRODDER) Mr Rimmer's anxious to see you.
- Ah, good.
(RIMMER) Mr Ferret!
- Yes, ah...
Ha-ha. Didn't see you!
Sorry about the hole in the wall.
Terrible traffic today.
Have you got the results
of the Wheety-Flakes survey?
Er... not as such. But I've got the one
on boot polish.
(RIMMER) And what does it show?
Well, it shows, er...
...it shows that ninety percent
of British families
don't like boot polish for breakfast.
Been some sort of a mix-up here
with the questionnaires.
I'll go into it right away.
I'd rather you didn't.
Right. I'll...
...I'll not go into it.
(# PASTORAL FLUTE
AND STRING MUSIC)
(BIRDS SINGING)
(RIMMER) I've got it all here,
Mr Fairburn.
What? Who are you?
Rimmer, sir. It's the Business
Efficiency report you commissioned.
Did no such thing! Never seen you
before in my life.
(RIMMER) I must say your decision
to investigate was very timely.
Well, that's what decisions should be.
Must have slipped my mind.
(FAIRBURN) I'm afraid my wife's been
a bit under the weather.
(RIMMER) Nothing serious, I hope?
No, no. She'll linger on
for quite a while yet.
I've got the report here
if you'd like to see it, sir.
(FAIRBURN) It's a bit large...
Couldn't you give me a run-down?
I'm rather busy today.
(RIMMER) Well, basically
your firm is running
an annual deficit
of seventy-five thousand pounds.
Seventy-five thousand pounds!
My God!
Do you know the words
that come to my mind?
No, sir. I don't know the words.
(FAIRBURN, SHOUTING) Fire Ferret!
Those are the words. Fire Ferret!
(TV COMMENTATOR) England now really in
a commanding position...
...and the wicket is still playing
absolutely perfectly...
(BUZZ OF INTERFERENCE)
...my goodness me,
what a glorious exhibition...
(FAIRBURN, DISTANTLY) Fire Ferret!
Those are the words.
Of course I know my way!
Think I've never been here before?
...beautifully timed leg sweep,
gone for four runs...
Let's get rid of him. Fire Ferret!
Ah, Mr Fairbum.
- Fairburn!
- Fairburn, yes.
...and another leg sweep,
and again it's gone for four runs...
We're doing, er, market research on people
watching television on the cricket...
(FERRET) Yes.
Do sit down, Mr Creambun...
er, Fairburn.
Throw those files
somewhere. Anywhere.
(FORCED NERVOUS LAUGHTER)
What are you laughing at, Ferret?
Nothing really.
Just trying to break the ice.
(EMPHATICALLY) You're fired!
Well. Better be off, then.
One moment, Ferret!
Seventy-five thousand pounds, sir.
Seventy-five thousand pounds...
Seventy-five thousand pounds!
(FERRET) That is a lot.
You owe me a lot of money, Ferret,
and you will remain with this firm,
working very hard
in a menial capacity, for a pittance
until such time as I've decided
that you have worked off your debt!
Otherwise, it is
P... R... I... S... O... N!
P... R... I...? Prison?
Good thinking.
I'm sorry about all that unpleasantness.
Why don't you take the afternoon off?
(RIMMER, INTO DICTAPHONE) Oh, and
you'd better send off some money
to Oxfam, as well.
(TANYA) Mr Fromage and Mr Waring
to see you, Mr Rimmer.
Good morning, Mr Fromage.
Good morning, Mr Waring.
(BOTH) Good morning.
(RIMMER) Very nice to see you again.
Please sit down.
(RIMMER) Well, our new survey
shows the reasons
for the declining sales
of The Olde English Humbug.
You can be quite frank with us,
Mr Rimmer. What does it say?
Basically, the consumer strongly dislikes
the taste of your product.
Furthermore, its extreme hardness
makes it almost impossible to eat.
- Very true.
- Nobody knows this better
than us, Mr Rimmer.
I don't think there's any cause
for worry, though.
With the right sort of campaign
we can make a virtue
out of these defects.
(# STYLISH 'JET-SET' MUSIC)
(SMOOTH MASCULINE VOICEOVER)
What's keeping him?
Why doesn't he come?
Suddenly she remembers
her tube of Scorpios.
(# FEMALE CHORUS
Scorpio... Scorpio...)
(# Scorpio... Scorpio...)
The refreshing hardness
tingles on her tongue.
(# Scorpio... Scorpio...)
She doesn't need him any more.
Enjoy yourself
with a Scorpio.
(# Scorpio!)
Good God! Is that our old humbug?
(FERRET) Here's the coffee
you asked for, sir.
(RIMMER) It was tea, Ferret.
Ah. Tea, was it?
Well, I think there may be
some tea in it.
(TANYA) Good morning, Mr Rimmer.
(RIMMER) Morning, Tanya.
- Morning.
- Morning, Mr Rimmer.
(PUMER) What are your plans
for this week, sir?
(RIMMER) Please call me Michael.
- Oh. Thank you, Michael.
This week, I thought we'd
concentrate on sex.
- Oh. Good idea.
- Yes!
I'd like to suggest
an all-embracing probe
into British sexual habits.
Isn't that rather close
to the wind?
(RIMMER) Well, I don't know about
your personal sexual habits, Mr Crodder
but there is wide
public interest in the subject.
(CRODDER) My sexual habits?
- I don't want anyone enquiring in...
(RIMMER) In yours, and everybody else's.
I think an honest and extremely
detailed investigation of this kind
is the quickest way
of getting us onto the front pages.
Hear, hear!
(CRODDER) Excuse me. We're
conducting a poll
into the sexual habits
of the British.
Oooh! Come on in...
(BUBBLING)
(PUMER) Hello. I wonder
if you could help me?
We're doing this sex survey...
(FACTORY HOOTER OBSCURES
EMPHATIC REPLY)
How many times a week?
You're joking!
The last time was Tuesday...
June the 3rd, 1953.
It was the Coronation
that got her going.
Oh, it's quite enjoyable work.
But it's not really my profession,
you know.
No, I regard it more as a sort
of stepping-stone to show business.
(MUFFLED GROAN FROM CLOSET)
Oh, Mr Mandeville.
I'd forgotten all about you!
(FRUITILY) It's a pleasure!
(CRODDER) Five times an hour!
(FEDERMANN) Why are they always in Latin?
(PUMER) I thought this one
was a cough linctus.
(RIMMER) Keep it up.
(MRS FERRET) If you spent a little less time
reading about sex
and a little more time
doing something about it!
I do.
Err, err, I mean I don't.
I'm reading about the Pound.
On the floor again.
- Well, I must be off to work.
- Have you been fired?
Fired? (LAUGHS)
Oh, dear. Fired!
(LAUGHTER DIES AWAY)
Then why is the car for sale?
(FERRET) Oh, that? No, that's a mistake.
That's one of Rimmer's cock-ups.
That should read FORS ALE.
It's a new beer we're advertising.
'Fors Ale...'
'Keeps you hearty and hale.'
- I've never heard of it.
- No, you may never.
Very hush-hush.
(MAN ON MONITOR) And then the moon climbs,
a great copper ball, until she tops
the long, dark line of the elms,
and laces the countryside silver
for then you'll hear a nightingale sing
(IMITATES NIGHTINGALE)
(APPLAUSE)
(HENCH) Thank you very much, Percy.
Do grocers indulge in sexual intercourse
twice as often as butchers?
Is Doncaster the wife-swapping capital
of Great Britain?
Do money and sexual inventiveness
go hand-in-hand?
A sensational poll published this morning
purports to give the answers.
I have with me Michael Rimmer,
of Fairburn Polls
and Peter Niss, of the rival
International Opinion Polls.
- Mr Rimmer, I have the feeling...
- Congratulations!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
I get the impression that you
conducted this survey
because you felt that this kind of
scientifically-disguised smut
would give your firm maximum publicity.
Could you tell me why you
asked me on the programme?
To find out your real motives
in publishing the poll.
And to talk about sex.
Do let's try not to be frivolous.
Well, sex may be frivolous to you, Mr Niss,
but it's not to me, and the vast majority
of the people in this country.
Yes, but do we really want to know
how many times a week
and how satisfactory the results?
- Yes, I do.
- Oh.
I think everybody's interested.
Well, it's not the sort of poll
we could conduct at IOP.
Well, I think that's a pity because I think
the more we know what people
really want and feel, the better.
I think polls are just beginning.
In fact, it's the only way we can adapt
our society to fit its real needs.
Well, now let's see how our
cross-section of society
feels about your particular sex poll.
You, sir
What do you think about publicising
people's personal sexual habits?
I think you seem to disapprove...
I wonder if your wife agrees?
I'm not his wife. Go away, please.
Anybody else here from Doncaster?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
(NISS, LAUGHING) and you knew
they weren't married, all the time?
(HENCH) Yes. Poor sods.
(NISS) What you might call a moment
of real television. (LAUGHS)
(HENCH) Well, I'd better go
and look after Percy.
He gets a bit broody.
(RIMMER) Peter, I was just jotting down
a few reasons why
you might like to leave IOP
and come over to us
at the Fairburn Organisation.
(NISS) Ah, yes. Yes, I see
that's very well put.
Yes, I particularly like the noughts.
(RIMMER) Thanks to you, Peter,
IOP have built up
a fantastic reputation for accuracy.
(NISS) How very kind.
Scotch, please.
(RIMMER) I suppose if their next poll
turned out to be wildly inaccurate
it might divert a little custom our way?
(NISS) Yes.
(RIMMER) What was the normal sample
you took there?
(NISS) We usually asked about a thousand.
That's all one normally needs.
(RIMMER) Only a thousand?
- Yes.
(RIMMER) So if we knew
which particular thousand
were going to be asked next time...
Well, of course,
it would be very unethical of me
to reveal my knowledge
of IOP's next poll.
Yes. Yes, I think unethical is the word.
- Practically criminal...
- Cheers!
Inside your folders, along with your
twenty-five pound bonus,
you'll find detailed instructions
and photographs of twenty men.
These twenty men are undertaking
a survey on religious attitudes
for International Opinion Polls.
Tomorrow Wednesday
they will be in Nuneaton.
So will you. Lights please!
Those of you in Group One
will go immediately
to the Rawleigh Shopping Precinct
where you'll see this man.
(RIMMER) (SHOUTING) Ferret!
(FERRET) Sorry!
(CRODDER MOANS)
What's the matter with Crodder?
Well, I'm afraid the sex survey's
rather taken it out of him, sir.
Where you'll see this man.
(RIMMER) When he questions you,
you will give the answers provided
on your sheet.
(PUMER) Come on. Quickly.
Come on. Come on.
Twenty-five past. We want to be going
by half-past. Come on.
Okay, now you all know
your groups, right?
Now, Groups Two and Three,
go to your stations
you'll find them up that way.
Groups Four and Five, your stations
you'll find up that way.
Right, now Group One, the rest of you,
follow me. Walk naturally.
(PUMER) Morning.
(INTERVIEWER) Morning.
(PUMER) I was just, er,
cleaning my pockets out
over in that, er... thing.
Oooh! Ah, ah...
- Banged my leg on this bench...
(INTERVIEWER) Oh.
Oof, er...
Yes, I, er... banged my leg
against this... this old bench.
Erm... are you all right?
(PUMER) Yes, fine. Fine, thanks.
Yes, I like to keep fit,
plenty of exercise.
Yes, you could almost say
it was my, er, religion.
Erm, I'm awfully sorry. What I
really wanted to ask you was,
could you possibly tell me
the time, please?
Oh, sorry. Yes, er, yes...
It's just before nine-fifteen.
Ah, thank you very much indeed
because I was saying to my wife when
we were praying this morning...
(INTERVIEWER) Excuse me.
We're doing a survey
of people's religious attitudes
and habits
...er, excuse me, madam...
we're just doing a survey
of people's religious
attitudes and habits
and would very much value
your opinion.
Oh, yes. Certainly.
(INTERVIEWER) What religion are you?
- I'm a Buddhist.
- A Buddhist?
- Yes.
- I see. A practising Buddhist?
- Yes.
How long have you been a Buddhist?
All my life.
(INTERVIEWER) Excuse me, sir.
Excuse me, erm...
- We're doing a survey of religious...
(CRODDER) I'm a Buddhist.
You're a Buddhist?
There's a lot of us
in Nuneaton, you know.
(INTERVIEWER) Er, well...
(PUMER) I'm awfully sorry
to bother you once again.
Could you possibly tell me
what time...?
(INTERVIEWER) Yes, yes, sorry.
Yes, sorry
It's just past nine-sixteen, so you're
all right there.
(PUMER) Oh, yes. As I was saying
to my religious father...
(INTERVIEWER) Excuse me...
excuse me, madam.
Erm, excuse me, madam.
What... what religion are you? What...
(TANYA) I'm Church of England.
Have you always been C of E?
Oh, no. Only since I married.
And before that you were...?
(BOTH) A Buddhist.
(PUMER) I'm frightfully sorry...
Look, would you please stop
asking me the time!
Now, stop it!
(PUMER) I'm a Buddhist...
There has been strong reaction in Nuneaton
to the poll published today by IOP
showing that forty-two percent
of the population of Nuneaton
are practising Buddhists, twenty-two percent
are Mohammedans, only eleven percent
are Church of England, and that nine percent
are worshippers of the Great White Ram.
From Nuneaton now,
Gerald Pringle reports.
This astonishing result
has raised strong feelings
among the God-fearing people
of Nuneaton.
The man in the street is shocked
and bewildered.
(IN BIRMINGHAM ACCENT) I'm shocked
and bewildered, Gerald.
I'm, er, bewildered and shocked!
Was that alright?
I'm not saying that Buddhism
is a bad thing.
But is it a good thing?
It's possible to approach God
in a great many different ways
but there's no need
to be silly about it.
From the angry streets
of Nuneaton... goodnight.
The Leader of the Opposition,
Tom Hutchison
in a speech at Beccles,
soundly condemned
the Government over this incident.
In our manifesto at the last election
we pointed out, in no uncertain terms,
the danger of opinion poll firms
operating without proper control.
If I may quote
There are many other fields
in which the Tory Party
might not hesitate
to take action.
(APPLAUSE)
(CLAPPER-LOADER) 'Scene One, Take Eight.'
(HENCH) Mr Rimmer, doesn't this result
clearly demonstrate that we place rather
too much trust in opinion polls?
(RIMMER) Not at all. Although
I do think it raises
some doubts about
the sampling methods of IOP.
But why should we believe
that your methods are any more reliable?
I just want to be judged
by results, Steven.
Take the forthcoming by-election
at Lymholt.
I'm prepared to guarantee
that our forecast
- will be within one percent.
(DIRECTOR) Cut!
Thank you very much.
Bloody idiot! How the hell can you
guarantee one percent?
We'll ask everybody.
(# MARCHING MUSIC)
- Oh. Mrs Spimm...
- Hello again!
We're conducting a survey
into people's voting habits.
Come on in...
(PRINGLE) And now here is the
Returning Officer, Alderman Poot
to announce the results.
The Fairburn opinion poll has predicted
a Conservative victory by 4.1 percent.
(RETURNING OFFICER, VIA PA) Edith Melon.
(PRINGLE) Liberal.
(RETURNING OFFICER) Three thousand,
two hundred and twelve.
(RETURNING OFFICER) Kevin Parrot.
(PRINGLE) Labour. (BOOS AND CHEERS)
(RETURNING OFFICER) Twelve thousand,
seven hundred and ninety-one.
(PRINGLE) That's down, and it is
possibly a low poll.
(RETURNING OFFICER) Colonel Richard Pryor-Grafton.
(PRINGLE) Conservative.
(RETURNING OFFICER) Fourteen thousand
and eight.
(PRINGLE) Oh, Conservatives in
by 4.1 percent.
Tremendous triumph for Fairburn Polls
and, of course, the Conservatives.
(HUTCHISON) Hello, Geoffrey!
(GEOFFREY) Morning, Tom.
(HUTCHISON) I must say I like the, er...
(GEOFFREY) Ah, yes.
Well, if the people won't come
to the church
the church must come
to the people.
I like the steeple particularly, don't you?
The feeling that, er...
(RIMMER) Julian! Lovely exhibition.
Thought it was absolutely super...
...marvellous. See you later.
- Lady Dorothy, how very sweet of you to come.
(LADY DOROTHY) I wouldn't have missed it...
(RIMMER) Hugh! I loved your speech
on abortion.
- It was really gorgeous.
(WILTING) Thank you...
(RIMMER) How very good of you to come, sir.
(HUTCHISON) Hello, Michael.
(RIMMER) Nice to see you. Like some champagne?
(HUTCHISON) Thank you.
(RIMMER) Lots of food all around.
You can just pick it up as you want.
(GEOFFREY) Thank you very much.
(HUTCHISON) My goodness. You seem
to have half of London here.
(RIMMER) Just a few friends, really.
(GEOFFREY) I think parties are such a good idea.
(RIMMER) Do you like them?
Nice place, too.
Have you managed to find time
for our little survey?
Yes. I think we've managed
to put our finger
on the reason for your
declining attendances.
We've tried everything, you know.
Pop groups. Bingo.
Hallucinogens in the wafers.
Son et Lumiere in the graveyard,
and, of course, these clothes are
a bit out for the 1970s.
I think that's very good thinking,
but there is one basic
stumbling block.
What's that? What's keeping them away?
God.
I had a nasty suspicion it was that.
You see, seventy-three percent
of the population
find it very difficult to believe in Him.
Well, I do think that doubt
is a terribly important part of belief.
You mean if we were
to fade out the God-side
of the worship, we'd get
better attendances?
(RIMMER) I think it's worth trying
in any case.
(GEOFFREY) Yes. A sort of Our Father,
which might be in Heaven?
(RIMMER) Yes, that kind of thing. Good.
(FAIRBURN) Delicious kedgeree!
(RIMMER) Hello, sir. Nice to see you.
(PHOTOGRAPHER) Mr Rimmer, sir!
(RIMMER) Thank you.
(FAIRBURN) Ferret...
(SHUTTER CLICKS)
(FAIRBURN) ...I'd like that mackerel!
Peter, how very super
of you to come.
Anything for a laugh.
- Have you got that dossier?
- Yes.
Better go have a word
with Tom Hutchison...
(FAIRBURN) No, not that one, Ferret...
That one!
Just shout for champagne if you need any...
Oh, excuse me.
Looks great...
Everything all right?
Sorry to neglect you, sir.
(HUTCHISON) Not at all. Excuse me...
I must say I was most impressed
with the Lymholt prediction.
Thank you very much.
I believe you're conducting a survey
as to the relative merits of
the Prime Minister and myself.
(RIMMER) Yes. Very interesting results.
Vapid. Oh dear.
Cold... tedious... uninspiring.
It's not so good over the page.
It's all very well being warm and lovable
but what this country needs is some
tough thinking at the top!
I couldn't agree more, sir.
(TANYA) Excuse me, sir.
The Prime Minister's on the phone.
Tell him I'll call him back,
would you?
You know, Rimmer. This survey of yours
isn't going to make it any easier for me
at the party conference.
There have been
some rumblings, you know.
I suppose if we only publish
the more... positive aspects
of your leadership, it might, er...
(HUTCHISON) Ah, yes, well, hmm...
Have you ever thought
of going into politics, Michael?
We need some dynamic
young blood in the party.
(RIMMER) But are there
any seats available?
(HUTCHISON) Oh, yes. There are always
seats available to the right man.
Old Eric Bentley's thinking of retiring.
(RIMMER) Well, I would be very interested.
(HUTCHISON) Of course, it depends on
what happens at the conference.
(RIMMER) I think I can help you there, Tom.
- Really?
(FAIRBURN) (LOUDLY) No, no, Ferret!
That one!
(HUTCHISON) (DECLAIMING)
And the first priority
must be that of trades union reform...
(RIMMER) (HECKLING) What about
unemployment?
(HUTCHISON) Don't talk to me
about unemployment!
(RIMMER) Very good. Keep the turn,
that was beautiful.
Now if we could just try it once again.
(HUTCHISON) Don't talk to me
about unemployment, young man.
I was... unemployed
before you were born.
My memory of those
terrible days in the Thirties
still brings tears to my eyes.
(NISS) Now. Cry now.
(RIMMER) Don't worry, Tom.
We'll supply your tears.
(HUTCHISON) Oh, thank you!
(RIMMER) Right next heckle.
(HE SINGS 'THE RED FLAG') The people's flag
is deepest red...
(NISS) It shrouded oft our martyred dead...
(HUTCHISON) Thank you for your
charming rendition
but I do not think the group
is ready to record yet.
(RIMMER AND NISS APPLAUD)
Lose the smile, love.
(RIMMER) Right, applause, applause.
(FOOTBALL RATTLES TURN RIMMER
AND NISS CHEER)
- Hurray!
- Bravo!
- Wonderful!
- Well done, Tom!
(RIMMER) Well done, Tom!
(NISS) What a ham.
(RIMMER) Tom, that was absolutely terrific!
(NISS) Fantastic warmth!
(RIMMER) So natural this time...
(NISS) You've done it again!
(RIMMER) Keep expecting the students
everything's going to be
all right on the night!
(VIOLENT CROWD NOISES)
(STUDENTS CHANTING) Police violence!
Police violence!
(CHANTING) Shame! Shame!
(CHANTING) Fascist pigs! Fascist pigs!
(NISS) And how did you persuade
the authorities
to establish a Faculty of Applied Violence?
(RANJIT X) Direct action. It's the only way,
with the minimum of non-violence.
U.S., plus napalm, equals what?
(STUDENT) Fascism, Ranjit.
(RANJIT X) First class, Gary.
Now, as I understand,
you guarantee
maximum TV and press coverage,
travel expenses, and
a bonus for speaking parts.
(NISS) Plus your usual
personal appearance fee of...
(RANJIT X) Oh, don't let's go into
bourgeois things like money.
Speak to my agent about it.
Get up! None of that old
Gandhi rubbish!
Get up and hit someone!
Oh, Che. Forgive them,
for they know not what they do.
Would you all come over here, please?
Will the group singing
'We Shall Not Be Moved'
move over here, please?
Fellow students. Next week,
the Conservative Party
is holding its annual conference...
(APPLAUSE)
(CHAIRMAN RAPS GAVEL)
(RIMMER) Hold on to the handkerchief, Tom,
and no smiling.
Ladies and gentlemen.
The next Prime Minister
of Great Britain, and leader of
the Conservative Party... Tom Hutchison!
(PROLONGED APPLAUSE AND CHEERING)
Ladies and gentlemen.
Ladies and gentlemen...
(STUDENTS SING) The people's flag
is deepest red...
It shrouded oft our martyred dead...
(CHAIRMAN) Order! Order!
Throw them out! Throw them out!
(RANJIT X) Leave me alone!
Leave me alone...
Down with the fascist pigs!
(SINGS) The people's flag is deepest red...
(VOICE IN CROWD) Throw them out!
(HUTCHISON) No, no! No, no
I would ask the ushers
not to eject our friends of the left.
(UPROAR DIES DOWN)
The Conservative Party believes
in freedom of speech.
(APPLAUSE AND CHEERS)
And I only wish they did!
(MORE APPLAUSE)
Thank you for that charming rendition
but I don't think the group of vocalists
of the left are ready to record yet!
(APPLAUSE AND LAUGHTER)
(NISS) It's going very well.
(HUTCHISON) And now, if I may turn
to economic matters...
(WOMAN IN AUDIENCE) What about
the Old Age Pension?
(RIMMER) That's not in the script...
(WOMAN) What about the
Old Age Pension?
(HUTCHISON) Don't talk to me
about unemployment, young man!
I was unemployed
before you were born.
My memory of those
terrible days in the Thirties
still brings tears to my eyes.
And I, and the whole
of the Conservative Party
are strongly committed...
(CAPSULE HISSES)
and I emphasise this...
(BANGS ON LECTERN)
We are committed to a policy
of full employment...
(SOBS)
lower taxation...
social justice...
(UNCONTROLLABLE SOBBING)
and... and... I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry...
(ENTHUSIASTIC APPLAUSE AND CHEERING)
Amidst amazing scenes at
the Conservative Party conference
this afternoon
the Leader of the Opposition was accorded
an unprecedented seven minutes ovation.
Mr Hutchison. Your position as leader
must now be completely secure.
How do you feel about
the violent heckling
that punctuated your speech?
I am not saying that the Labour Party
was responsible
for this disgraceful episode.
But I will say this
it did seem to be organised.
(PHOTOGRAPHERS) One more, sir!
- Look this way, sir!
(HUTCHISON) Michael! Niss!
(RIMMER) Well done, Tom!
Very good indeed.
(HUTCHISON) What's the
next move then, Michael?
(RIMMER) At the moment, Tom, I've got
my personal life to consider.
- I'm thinking of getting married.
- Oh, congratulations, Michael.
- I think an MP needs a wife by his side.
- Quite right.
(NISS) Who is it?
That... I'm not entirely sure of.
Have you got the result
of that poll yet?
Yes. Queen,
number one, as usual.
She's out.
Oh, yes. Number two.
Second most popular girl in Britain
Pat Cartwright, showjumper.
- Very nice.
- Love at first sight?
- Pretty girl, isn't she?
- You romantic fool, you!
(# ROMANTIC ORCHESTRAL MUSIC)
(CLICKING OF TYPEWRITER KEYS)
(RIMMER) Morning.
Hello.
(# ROMANTIC MUSIC CONTINUES)
(SMALL TALK IS IN BACKGROUND)
(PAT) Would you like to have a drink?
My parents would love to meet you.
I'd love to, the trouble is I've got to dash
and see the Prime Minister.
(PAT) Oh.
- How about dinner some time?
(# 'RIMMER' THEME)
(BLACKET) Hello Michael.
Nice of you to come.
My privilege, Prime Minister.
- Make yourself comfortable.
- Thank you.
Tell me, Michael. Have you ever thought
about going into politics?
We're always on the lookout
for fresh blood
and there are one or
two seats available.
Well, I've never really thought of myself
as a socialist.
Can't see why that
should be an impediment.
We're not bound by dogma.
Think it over. The offer's there.
Thank you.
Now then, my spies tell me
not literally, of course!
(PRESSES RECORD) ...that your firm
has been investigating the reasons
for the slight decline in
the popularity of my government.
I'm afraid it's you, sir.
But your polls have always
shown me as being
more popular than
the government as a whole.
Exactly. The public haven't
been seeing enough of you.
I mean, you haven't been
on our TV screens
for quite a while now.
Well, I try to give the impression
that we work as a team.
But every team needs a leader.
True.
So you think a little more exposure
on the silvery tube?
The more the better!
(BLACKET LAUGHS QUIETLY)
(PRIME MINISTER, ON RADIO) Good evening,
and hello again.
A lot has happened
since ten o'clock this morning,
so I thought it was about time
we had another of our little fireside chats...
(RIMMER) Never seen a man
dig his own grave before.
(PAT) Go turn him off, Michael.
(CHANNEL CHANGES
TO 'LOUNGE' MUSIC STATION)
(RIMMER) I must tell you how much
I've always admired your seat.
It's been an inspiration to me
over the years.
(HE KISSES PAT)
(RIMMER) With this ring...
Stop it. We mustn't...
Once doesn't count as breaking training.
I've got the Olympic Heats tomorrow...
...I've got the 'olympic heats' tonight.
(DREAMILY) I think I've achieved
a new personal best!
(TV COMMENTATOR) The surprise upset
at the White City
was the defeat of Pat Cartwright
who failed to complete her round.
(SOUND OF SPLASH AT WATER JUMP)
She complained afterwards
of stomach cramps.
(INTERFERENCE) ...We see her now coming out
on Brown Goblin.
She's safely over the first
riding slightly higher
in the saddle than usual
a quick turn here...
(FERRET SWITCHES SET OFF)
(MRS FERRET) Where's it all gone?
(FERRET) Huh? Where's all what gone?
- The furniture.
- Ah.
Well, while you were out this morning
it started getting a bit shaky.
So I just popped it
into the furniture shop
to have it re-pawned... repaired.
I rather like it like this.
A great feeling of space.
Care for a glass of 'Fors'?
(BLACKET) Good morning!
(GUARD) Nice to see
you again so soon, sir.
- You know the way, I imagine?
- Oh, yes.
We thought of building you
a flat up there, sir.
Oh, no, no. Very amusing!
Because I'm here so often,
you mean? (LAUGHS)
Bloody Capricorns! I'll have
a word with Bob about him.
A little regional unemployment,
I think. (LAUGHS LOUDLY)
(# PASTORAL FLUTE
AND HARPSICHORD MUSIC)
(HUTCHISON) Oh, Michael. Let me introduce
my old friend Teddy Mandeville.
The next Chancellor of the
Exchequer, eh, Teddy?
(RIMMER) Very nice to meet you
in the flesh, sir.
(MANDEVILLE) It's a pleasure.
(SPOT) Hello.
(HUTCHISON) I must say that Blacket idea's
working out awfully well.
(SPOT) Even our gardener's sick of him.
I mean, he's never off the box!
(RIMMER) I hope he doesn't die
of over-exposure.
(LAUGHTER)
Such a ghastly little man!
(RIMMER) He is a big help. You know
what's going to decide the election?
Law and order.
That, and the race issue.
I think we should be tougher
with the immigrants.
Well, I don't see
how we can be any tougher
than the Labour Party.
We can't let in less than zero.
(SPOT) We could let a few out.
I mean, Uncle Eric's
got this super idea about a boat race.
Five thousand pounds
for the first West Indian
who can row back to Jamaica.
When they all sort of row off,
it'll be fantastic!
- I mean...
(SPOT'S AUNT) Spot. Your shot.
Oh, my shot...
Coming, Auntie Vanya!
(RIMMER) As Sir Eric is retiring
in any case
why don't you allow him
to express his real views?
(HUTCHISON) The man's a lunatic!
Good shot, Eric!
(RIMMER) Exactly. He could make
a grossly inflammatory speech
you could sack him
and emerge as a man of principle,
yet the impression would still get about
that we are tougher on immigration
than the Socialists.
(RIMMER) Peter, I wonder if
I could tear you away
from my fiance for a moment?
Like you to call up
a few newspapers...
Nobody could accuse me
of being a racialist...
(SPOT LAUGHS)
...but when I hear stories
as well-authenticated as this
which I heard from a very close friend
of a constituent
who had been talking
to somebody in a pub
who had heard from
an extremely reliable source
that a fragile old lady of ninety-two
had been locked in a lavatory
by a group of ten immigrants
who proceeded to poke at her
with sharpened broomsticks
for a period of fourteen hours
whilst they chanted
anti-white slogans,
and finally forced her to use
a newspaper photograph
of Mr Enoch Powell
in a way... that I'd
rather not go into here.
When I hear stories
like that, I wonder
are we mad, to allow,
in this country, fragile old ladies
to be ruthlessly poked by blacks!
(SCATTERED APPLAUSE)
(PHOTOGRAPHER) Could we take it from
the end again, please?
(BENTLEY) Eh?
(PHOTOGRAPHER) 'Are we mad...'
(BENTLEY, REPEATING) Are we mad?
Are we mad?
Are we mad?
(PHOTOGRAPHER) Look to the right, sir!
(BENTLEY) Are we mad?
Are we mad!
(LOUDLY) Are we mad?!
(PHOTOGRAPHER) Look to the right, sir...
(BENTLEY) Are we mad? Are we mad?
Are we mad? Are we mad?
Are we mad?
Are we?
Have you read this filth?
(INDIFFERENTLY) Yes, I have.
Dreadful, quite dreadful.
Dearie me. Oh, dear.
What are you going to do?
I can't be Home Secretary
in a party that condones racialism.
Don't you worry, Hugh.
I will act
I will act.
In fact, on matters of principle
I am acting the whole time.
Sir Eric is announcing his
resignation this evening.
Yes, Michael's taking his seat
at the General Election.
But that still gives the impression
we're a lot of racialists!
I admire your integrity, Hugh
but you must realise
we must win this election.
(# HUTCHISON BEGINS TO PLAY
LIGHT PIANO PIECE)
And let's face it this won't do us
any harm at all. No harm. At all.
It's no good. I must speak out!
You see, Hugh I don't think Tom wants
another five years in opposition.
I don't care. I won't be muzzled!
(PIANO CONTINUES)
Hello, whitey!
Good evening.
You're trash, man.
(BLOW LANDS)
- I'm on your side!
- I've got rhythm...
I understand your motives.
Now let's discuss this rationally.
Violence breeds... violence!
(WILTING) Cool it, baby!
(PIANO CONTINUES)
(UPPER-CLASS ACCENT) Hello, whitey.
Hello, whitey.
(HIGH-PITCHED VOICE) Hello, whitey.
(WORKING-CLASS ACCENT) 'ello, whitey.
(CONTEMPTUOUSLY) Hello, whitey.
Hello, whitey. Hello, whitey.
Hello, whitey. Hello, whitey.
Hello, whitey. Hello, whitey.
Hello, whitey. Hello, whitey.
(POLICEMAN) Well, sir?
I couldn't swear to it,
but it might just possibly
be the one in the green shirt...
(CHURCH BELLS RING)
(PHOTOGRAPHER) A kiss
Mr Rimmer, sir. Please.
Thank you, sir.
(GUESTS CHATTER EXCITEDLY)
(# ROMANTIC STRING MUSIC)
(MRS CARTWRIGHT)
Bye bye, my darling!
(PAT) Bye!
(PAT) Mummy, put that hankie away
you promised me!
(GUESTS) Bye!
(NISS) Calculating sod!
(PAT) Now, darling. Where's this
super secret surprise honeymoon?
(RIMMER) Have you ever heard of
a little place called Budleigh Moor?
(# ROMANTIC MUSIC)
(PHOTOGRAPHERS) One more,
Mr Rimmer, please, sir.
This way, please.
Thank you.
(RIMMER) Thank you, gentlemen.
That'll be enough.
Thank you.
(BLACKET) Deirdre? Would you say
my career-line
comes to an abrupt halt?
No, no. No need for too much
on the face, dear
I've got most of it left
from this afternoon.
Just, erm, a few drops in the eyes
to get the merry twinkle going!
(LAUGHS)
And, er, could you make the mouth
more generous?
(NISS) Keeping fit?
(PAT) That's about all there is
for me to do around here.
(NISS) Yes, I used to be pretty fit
when I was in the army.
The only trouble was, it made
me so incredibly
...randy.
(PAT) Yes. It does.
Incredibly randy.
Yes, you must be... pretty fit.
How's married life suiting you?
How should I know? I've hardly
seen him since the ceremony.
What about all those lovely pictures
of you together in the papers?
That's about the only time
we've been together
when there's
a photographer around.
(NISS) Yes.
Yes, I must admit there is
a calculating side
to Michael that I find very...
disturbing.
But do you actually
know anything about him?
I mean, where does he come from?
Never talks to me about it.
Just tells me that he was found
in the bulrushes.
(PAT) You can't stand him, can you?
No.
Er, no, no, no nothing like that.
I just don't like to see what
he's doing to you.
What he's not doing to me...
(COUNTRY SOUNDS)
Good evening!
Before you vote next week
I'd like you to remember
that basically, you know, friends,
this election isn't about money
and material things
it's about morality.
The Labour Party's nothing
if it is not a moral crusade.
It's hardly necessary for me
to remind you
what we stand for.
The Labour Party stands for...
(AUTOCUE CLICKS INEFFECTUALLY)
well, er, it stands for, er...
(AUTOCUE IS SWITCHED
OFF AND ON)
well, it stands for...
we stand for, er...
(SHOUTS) Look! I'm not standing
for any more of this!
Look, stop the cameras, get
the bloody man off the autocue!
(FLOOR MANAGER) It's live, sir!
(BLACKET, SHOUTING LOUDER)
Pull your fingers out!
(FLOOR MANAGER) It's a live broadcast, sir.
They can see you...
(BLACKET) What? Oh, oh...
(FORCED LAUGHTER)
(SHOUTS, PANICKING) Oh, oh... dung!
(LOUD CRASH OF EQUIPMENT)
(SHOUTS) I'll sack the lot of you!
Stop it! Stop the bloody thing!
Stop the machine!
Is there nobody in control here?
(HUTCHISON) I must say, Michael, you did
an excellent job with Blacket.
I hope I can continue to do well, sir.
(HUTCHISON) I've been thinking about
the composition of the Government...
(HE GASPS AT THE
COLDNESS OF THE WATER)
and I was trying to work out
where your many talents
would bear most fruit.
Well, as all my experience
has been in financial matters
I thought Chancellor of the Exchequer.
(HUTCHISON) Oh, my dear Michael.
You're not even an MP yet!
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
I must say I admire
your directness and drive...
...but you must see that Mandeville
must be in charge of the Exchequer.
Of course, I've always believed
that a man's personal life is his own affair.
What do you mean?
You haven't heard anything, then?
No. What is there to hear?
Well, I hate to spread gossip, and
they're probably faked, in any case.
What are faked?
The photographs I was sent.
Of Mandeville?
...And friends.
But even if they're real, I don't see why
they should affect his efficiency
at the Exchequer.
Do you have these, erm,
photographs with you?
Yes, I thought it better
to hand them over to you
and say no more about it.
God knows where the negatives are.
That's not Mandeville.
The other way up, sir.
Good God! The continental pig!
Good heavens!
Tut, tut!
Keister!
God... I may have to reconsider.
(NEWSPAPER SELLER SHOUTS RAUCOUSLY)
Conservative Shadow Chancellor resigns
without giving his reason.
Surprise appointment
of Tory whizzkid, Michael Rimmer!
The next Conservative Government
will reduce Income Tax,
reduce Purchase Tax
and increase Old Age Pensions.
This I solemnly pledge.
And now, to help you
make up your minds,
here is a chance
to take another look
at the alternative to
a Conservative Government...
(SHOUTS, PANICKING) Oh, dung!
(SCREEN RIPS) (YELLS)
(SHOUTS, PANICKING) Oh, dung!
(SCREEN RIPS) (YELLS)
(SHOUTS, PANICKING) Oh, dung!
(SCREEN RIPS) (YELLS)
(SHOUTS, PANICKING) Oh, dung!
(SCREEN RIPS) (YELLS)
(LOUD CRASH OF EQUIPMENT)
(SHOUTS) I'll sack the lot of you!
Stop it! Stop the bloody thing!
It was clever of Michael
to have thought of that.
Now.
What would be good, now
Oh, yes. Bed.
B... E... D... 'BED'.
That's eight to you,
and I'll make 'LOYALTY'.
(NISS) Loyalty?
That is a good word.
That's a very good word.
Er, that's fifteen to you.
What can I do with my...
with my 'X'?
Oh, yes. I can...
I can make 'SEX'
with the S of 'BEDS'.
And I can add U... A... L...
Five more to me.
Yes, but you don't know what
you've let yourself in for
you see, I can use your
'LOYALTY' to make...
'SEXUALITY'.
(HE LAUGHS)
Well, all I can do is this
N...
O...
'NO'? But you can't do that.
I mean, it isn't connected to anything.
Oh yes it is.
Goodnight, Peter.
(# CURRENT AFFAIRS THEME)
Good evening and welcome
to Election Grandstand.
The first result should be coming in
quite soon from Clitheroe.
This is Hugh Wilting's seat
and traditionally
the first constituency
to complete the counting.
But first, with no results in,
let's ask Peter Niss
of Fairburn Polls, what he thinks
of the situation.
Well frankly, Steven, I think we've started
the programme about an hour too early...
(HENCH LAUGHS) Well, let's go over
to Freddie Daring
at Clitheroe, to see
if there's any news yet.
Well, these lads have
a great reputation to maintain
and they're absolutely determined
to give us the first result!
I've never seen such
fast, hard counting,
and I think we should have something
to tell you in a few minutes.
Well, thank you Freddie.
And now let's take one more look
at the state of the parties.
Well, that's the position at the moment
with no results in yet,
and now perhaps we can get
a reaction from New York.
So over there now, by Early Bird,
to Tom Stoddart.
I am not your buddy.
Neither am I your mother!
Appalling people!
Ah, yes, well
over here in New York
we are all, as they say over here,
'dog-gone keen' to hear the first result...
(HENCH) ...And so are we here in London.
And we must go back up to Clitheroe
as I think they may
have something for us.
Come in, Freddie.
(HENCH) Freddie?
Can you hear me?
In that case, back to New York!
Here in Stockholm, we are
extremely excited...
(HENCH) We don't want to talk to you
at the moment, Doctor Luns
if we could talk to you later.
We're going back to Clitheroe
to get the first result.
- Oh, but I want...
(HENCH) Thank you, Doctor Luns,
we'll come back to you in a moment.
So over to Freddie Daring
in Clitheroe for the first result!
(HENCH) Hello, Freddie?
- Hello, Freddie?
(TOM STODDART) Over here in New York...
(HENCH) Hello, Freddie?
If we could just get Freddie...
No, we don't have
the result yet, but
in the closing minutes
these lads are going really berserk.
George Winthrop, one of the most
experienced counters,
broke a finger just now
but he's carrying on.
(DR LUNS) Hello, London!
(HENCH) Well, thank you, Freddie.
Well, still no results from Clitheroe.
Peter Niss?
In that case, let's rejoin our
good friend Doctor Luns in Stockholm.
Are you there, Doctor Luns?
He has gone to the...
He will be back.
In that case, let's go over to Paris
where Pierre Dubois is waiting.
Bonsoir, Pierre!
(WAITER) Bonsoir!
(HENCH) Pierre Dubois,
both candidates at Clitheroe
are keen supporters
of the Common Market.
What's the French reaction
to this phenomenon?
Ecoutez, Monsieur.
Je ne comprends rien
et je m'en fou!
Salut! Le service non compris.
Comme d'habitude d'ailleurs!
...Well, I don't think we've located
the right Pierre Dubois.
But while we were talking to Paris
we did get the first result
not from Clitheroe
but from Beccles and here it is.
A Conservative gain of 17,000.
Now let's see what swing that is.
Over to Magnus Orbison
on the swingometer.
(HENCH) Peter Niss...
Well, that's just under a twenty percent
swing to the Conservatives.
It's exactly what we predicted at Fairburn.
If it's repeated it'll give the Conservatives
an overall majority of, what, 265?
Ah. Well now the results
are coming in thick and fast.
And here's an interesting result.
Michael Rimmer has held Budleigh Moor
for the Conservatives
with a greatly increased majority.
(# MAIN 'RIMMER' THEME)
(MRS FERRET) He's in. I knew he'd do it!
(FERRET) But only by 17,000.
(HENCH) That's another Conservative gain.
And so, with 435 results in,
we have the news
that the Prime Minister
has conceded defeat.
(TV EXPLODES)
And now it's six-fifteen in
the morning, there's only
the Clitheroe result to come in.
And here it is. After three recounts
Hugh Wilting has retained his seat
with a majority of only five.
That's over 18,000 down
from the last election,
due no doubt to his courageous stand
on the race issue.
So now we leave Election Grandstand
with a new Conservative
Government in office.
And it's thanks to all our experts,
and good night.
(FLOOR MANAGER) Right, that's it, studio.
Wrap it up.
(# CURRENT AFFAIRS THEME)
(MUSIC ENDS)
(ON MONITOR) Luns, here. Doctor Luns.
Er, hello. Hello, London...
This is Stockholm...
(NEWSREADER) The Prime Minister is holding
an emergency Cabinet meeting at Chequers
to discuss what he describes
as the very grave financial situation...
(GENIAL CONVERSATION AND LAUGHTER)
Gentlemen.
The Chancellor is bringing
the exact figures
but I do feel that unless
we announce strong measures
there is a grave danger
of another run on the Pound.
I wonder if you would
excuse me a moment?
I have a rather important call to make
to my wife in Zurich...
Gentlemen. I must ask you
as patriots and ministers
not to speculate against the Pound.
(HUTCHISON) Michael. There you are!
Sorry to keep you, Tom. I wanted
to have all the figures.
(HUTCHISON) Good. We've
just been discussing
the appalling mess
we've been left by the Socialists.
(HUTCHISON) We have inherited
a mess, haven't we?
- Oh yes, yes. Yes, we have.
- Good, fine!
In fact, overall, the financial situation
could be described as disastrous.
- Catastrophic!
- 'Hopeless' is another good one.
I think we're all agreed
on the nature of the problem.
Now, Michael. What are your proposals
for dealing with this, er... crisis.
Well, first of all I'd
reduce Income Tax,
reduce Purchase Tax, and increase the
Old Age Pensions.
You must be mad!
Well, I think we ought to honour
our pre-election pledges.
(HUTCHISON) No, no, Michael.
- Nobody expects that of us.
- Hear, hear!
No, the normal routine is to say
that we are all staggered and horrified
and then blame it all on the last lot!
I mean, what are our gold reserves
at the moment?
- Two-and-a-half million.
- God Almighty!
No, seriously, Michael.
What are your proposals?
Well, I've been having a word
with our friends
in Paris and Bonn.
I didn't know we had any friends
in Paris and Bonn.
And I think that while
I'm sort of, sorting things out
it would be best to sit back
and do nothing for a couple of weeks.
Good idea!
Will all those in favour of sitting tight
and doing nothing
for two weeks, raise one arm?
(LAUGHTER)
(HUTCHISON) Carried unanimously!
Thank you, gentlemen.
That's all I want to say to you.
- Goodbye, Prime Minister.
- 'Bye, Michael.
Oh, and I do think
we should try and create
the impression of some activity.
What about a summit?
That would pass the time.
Very good indeed.
And talk about things
in terms of keeping our options open.
(HUTCHISON) Right.
(CHAIRMAN) Jolly good idea. Very good idea.
No comment, gentlemen.
I shall speak on my return. Goodbye.
(REPORTER) Good luck, sir.
(# OPENING NOTES OF 'THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER'
PLAYED ON TROMBONE)
(UPBEAT VOICEOVER AND STIRRING PATRIOTIC MUSIC)
Britain's defences have never been stronger.
Take a look at the unique British 'Hover-Bomb'
which hovers over the enemy
issuing instructions to surrender.
If not shown a white flag within fifteen seconds
it devastates an area of fifty square miles!
(POTTER) I've never seen that.
Is it one of yours?
(VOICEOVER) Now, feast your eyes
on the giant new 'Caligula' missile,
computer-programmed
to home in on specific targets.
(MUSIC SWELLS)
(GENERAL STRIKE) Is it one of yours?
(VOICEOVER) And if that isn't enough
to strike fear
into the hearts of our enemies
what about this jolly little fellow
the Navy's nuclear-powered
'Water Weasel'.
When it's not annihilating our foes
it's hard at work gathering fish!
(LOUD EXPLOSION)
(CRICHTON) I've never seen any of those.
(VOICEOVER) So, for those who think
that the British Lion has lost its teeth
let them be warned
that it can still give them
a pretty nasty suck!
(MUSIC REACHES CLIMAX AND ENDS)
(RIMMER) I think this display here
will answer all your questions.
(POTTER) But they're just models!
(RIMMER) That's all we need. Thanks
to our Film Department
we have the finest
deterrent force in the world.
This will save roughly
one billion pounds a year,
enabling me to increase your own salaries
by one hundred percent.
(GENERAL STRIKE) What?
(CRICHTON) Twice as much, Willie.
(GENERAL STRIKE) Oh. Mum's the word.
(MOFFAT) What about the other ranks, sir?
Most chaps joined the army
to do a bit of
well, not to put too fine
a point on it killing.
I know I did!
Money isn't everything. The Spofforths
have a tradition to uphold.
It's Moffat of the Spofforths, isn't it?
Yes, sir.
You realise, Colonel Moffat,
that your regiment
is due to be disbanded?
But I understood
that under the Conservatives...
(RIMMER) Well, I think possibly
we might find
a special role for the Spofforths.
(MOFFAT) Oh.
(RIMMER) You see, Britain needs gold...
(MOFFAT) Yes.
(RIMMER) ...as you know, the Swiss have a lot of it.
(MOFFAT) Oh.
(RIMMER) This is where you come in...
(NO ONE TALKS)
(GLASS TANKS BUBBLE)
(SERGEANT) 'Ten-shun!
(MOFFAT) At ease, please.
(SERGEANT) Here we are, sir.
There's enough elephantiasis
in there to wipe out
the whole of China.
Just think of it
six hundred million
bloated Chinks rolling around!
(RIMMER) And where are the Union Jacilli?
- Over 'ere.
There we are, sir. The Union Jacilli.
Our latest germ for peace
incidentally, a big dollar earner
it's already gained the
Queen's Award for Industry.
And there's no known antidote?
Not as yet, sir, no.
It's an highly-concentrated
form of the English common cold.
Acts in seconds, leaves no trace.
- That's the one for us, Colonel.
- Yes, sir!
(SERGEANT LAUGHS)
Right little beggar, he is!
Once he gets in there,
there's no getting him out!
(SILENCE EXCEPT FOR FOOTSTEPS)
(HUTCHISON) Thank you, thank you!
- I'll see you again, too.
(WOMAN, TERSELY) Next!
(MAN WITH MICROPHONE) Have you
anything to tell us sir, please?
I'd just like to say
that my talks with the President
were wide-ranging, full
and exhausting.
(# BAGPIPES SKIRL)
(DRUNKENLY) And we'll sweep in...
and wipe 'em out, completely.
- No survivors?
(MAJOR SCOTT) No survivors?
That's a bit rough!
I'd better tell Mary right away.
No, sir. No survivors on their side.
Oh. That's more like it.
Simple. Effective.
And bloody good fun!
Better master the machinery.
Know your weapon.
How do these chaps work?
Ah. (READS) Press firmly
with the index finger...
first ensuring that all ranks
are wearing gas masks.
Ah. (AEROSOL HISSES)
(SNEEZES)
(MILITARY OFFICIAL) The Swiss
have been asking for it.
I mean, what self-respecting nation
can go five hundred years
without a war?
(NISS, DRUNKENLY) The Swiss?
(MILITARY OFFICIAL) Exactly.
Enough said.
(MOFFAT) You see, people
these days have lost
their sense of values.
Honour. Decency.
(RIMMER) Courage and loyalty.
Yes. I can't tell you
how grateful we chaps
are Michael, to you, for
giving us this chance
to do something for Britain.
Ordinary people are just sick and tired
of being pushed around.
(SHOUTS COMMANDINGLY) Pipe-Major!
Gentlemen. I give you...
Operation Cuckoo!
(ALL) Operation Cuckoo...
(VOICE) God bless her.
(# BAGPIPES SKIRL)
(# MILITARY FIFE AND DRUM MARCH)
(# LIGHT-HEARTED POLKA,
GRADUALLY SPEEDING UP)
(SNEEZING FROM VARIOUS DIRECTIONS)
(TRUMPET CALL)
(HISSING OF AEROSOLS)
(# TRIUMPHANT MILITARY MUSIC)
(MOFFAT) Take that!
(AEROSOLS HISS)
(SHOUTS) Come on. At the double!
This way, chaps...
(AEROSOLS HISS SPORADICALLY)
In you go, then.
Quick as you can!
(# ORCHESTRAL STRING WALTZ)
(MOFFAT, LOUDLY) Forward!
(NEWSPAPER SELLER SHOUTS)
North Sea gold find confirmed!
Big boost for Sterling!
Swiss government break off
diplomatic relations with Egypt!
(HUTCHISON) It gives me great pleasure
to show you the first piece
of gold to be mined
from our vast North Sea gold fields!
(CHEERS AND APPLAUSE)
(RIMMER) Can I give you a hand, sir?
(HUTCHISON) No, Michael, it's all right.
I think it's me they want to see.
(PHOTOGRAPHERS) Can you move
back a bit, sir?
...A bit higher, sir.
...Back a bit, sir.
...Back a bit, sir.
...Back a bit, sir.
(HUTCHISON YELLS)
Let go of the gold, sir!
(HENCH, LAUGHING) I was
really quite fond of him
but what a stupid way to go!
(ALL LAUGH)
- Talk about a floating pound!
(ALL LAUGH AGAIN)
(FLOOR MANAGER) All right, studio.
Nice and quiet, please.
(SOLEMN TYMPANI NOTES)
Tonight, the country lies stunned
by the tragic news
of the death of the Prime Minister.
(BLACKET DISGUISES INVOLUNTARY
LAUGHTER BY COUGHING)
Messages of sympathy
have been pouring in
from all over the world.
The Pope has condemned
the senseless violence of our times.
The President of the USA
has spoken warmly
of the man with whom
he recently spent so much time.
Here in the studio tonight
we have three men who knew him well.
First, the Home Secretary,
Hugh Wilting, who was
with him when he died.
This is a black day... er,
darkish sort of day for Britain.
(HENCH) Your Grace...
I think it ironic that a man
who so loved the sea
should be, so to speak, bitten
by the mouth that drowned him.
Was it St Paul, or Cole Porter who said
we always hurt the one who loves us?
But I'm sure this fine man
has found solace
in Heaven with Almighty God
if there is such a person.
Mr Blacket. You, at times, have been
on rather acrimonious terms
with the late Prime Minister.
We've had our differences.
On one occasion indeed,
on several occasions
you described him as a
'two-faced, weasel-eyed git'.
In the rough-and-tumble
of parliamentary debate
one often says things
that are easily misinterpreted.
But there was a great warmth
between us.
One hates to make, er,
party points, but, erm...
...Suffer little ones
and let the little ones suffer.
He giveth and taketh away, and casts
his bread upon the waters.
Well, let's take one more look
at the tragic accident,
this time in slow motion.
(FILM ON SCREEN HAS NO SOUND)
(HENCH) Here, we see the Prime Minister
moving to one side
to give the photographers
a better view of the gold.
This is the crucial moment.
The Prime Minister slips. Michael Rimmer
rushes to his side...
...but is unable to save him.
But even so soon after the tragedy
the question on everybody's lips is
'Who will succeed?'
(SOLEMN TYMPANI NOTES)
(BREAM) I can't say I like the man,
but you must admit he's got something.
I can't say I like the man,
but I must admit he's got something.
What about you, Mandeville?
I can't say I like the man, but
I must admit he's got something on me.
(# JAUNTY POP MUSIC
ON PORTABLE RADIO)
(RADIO DJ) And there we are, folks
that's number five
in our Top Thirty this week,
and I think at the other end
of this telephone
because it's time for our afternoon
telephone call is Mrs Ferret.
(MRS FERRET) Hello?
(DJ) Hello, Mrs Ferret?
(MRS FERRET) That's right, Dave.
But Constance to you.
Great. Now what
do you do, Constance?
I'm just an ordinary housewife.
Great. What does
your husband work at?
My husband, Dave?
Oh, he's a failure.
Fine. And as
an ordinary housewife
who would you choose
to lead the Conservatives?
(WITH ENTHUSIASM) Oh, Michael Rimmer, Dave!
He's everything my husband isn't!
Well, Constance,
all I can say to that is...
(VOICE OF SMALL CHILD) ...groovy, baby!
(BUBBLING)
He's ruthless, opportunistic, dishonest,
shallow, evasive, and unprincipled.
But I'm still not sure
he'll make a good leader.
I shouldn't wait up
for me tonight, darling.
I might be a bit late.
- I want a divorce.
- Divorce? Why?
To put it in the only terms
you'd understand...
sexually speaking
we're seventy percent below
the national average.
I shouldn't pay too much attention
to one month's figures.
Seasonal variations can be
very misleading.
I mean it, Michael. I want a divorce.
That's normal. About forty-two percent
of married women
go through this phase during
the first year of their marriage.
How would it affect your chances of
being Prime Minister
if I went on television tonight
and told everybody
where the North Sea gold
really came from?
You wouldn't do that.
(PAT) I'll ring Steven Hench now.
No, you won't. Bye.
(PAT) He'd love to get you!
(RIMMER) Peter...?
(NISS) Yes?
(RIMMER) Pat's a bit upset.
I wonder if you'd look after her.
Don't let her near
a telephone till I get back.
- Right.
(PAT CLATTERS AGAINST GLASS DOOR)
I'd leave her in the bathroom
to calm down
if I were you.
(PAT, SHOUTING) Let me out!
Peter!
- Hello?
(PAT) Let me out!
I'd love to. But I can't.
Why not?
You can't stand him!
I know, but he's so nearly there.
And there are so many things
we can do together.
(PAT) Think of all the things we
would be able to do together!
I thought you loved me...
I do love you.
(PAT) And I love you, Peter.
And I love you, Pat.
Well, let me out, then.
(# MAIN 'RIMMER' THEME)
- Thank you, sir.
- Look this way, sir!
Oh, don't do that. You'll bruise
your lovely shoulders.
(PAT) If you loved me
you'd let me out!
- But I do love you.
(PAT) And I love you...
so let me out, you stupid,
spineless, sycophantic...
(APPLAUSE)
If you let me out
you can have me!
Darling Pat!
(APPLAUSE FROM TV)
May I say how proud
and privileged I am
to have been elected Leader
of the Conservative Party. (APPLAUSE)
I don't believe it.
He's done it!
So he has.
Sorry darling,
but duty calls.
(RIMMER, ON TV) ...albeit it
under circumstances
which I most bitterly regret.
This is not a time for false hopes.
The situation is critical
and I intend to take immediate action.
(RIMMER) Hello, darling.
Let's start improving
our monthly figures...
(RIMMER) Colonel Moffat,
late of the Spofforths,
is our new Minister of Defence.
(APPLAUSE)
Teddy Mandeville will be
Minister of Labour.
(APPLAUSE)
Now happily recovered from his illness.
I've chosen him because, above all,
Teddy is a deeply human man.
And nobody knows better than me
how very human he can be.
As public opinion polls
have become such a vital part
of our democratic way of life
the time has come to take them
out of private hands
where they can possibly be misused.
I've therefore created
a National Poll Board
under the chairmanship
of Mr Peter Niss.
(APPLAUSE)
Now, you know that I've
never sought power
and now that I have power
I want to share it with you.
For it is you, the people of Britain,
that have made this country great.
From now on, I want
to consult you directly.
On every major issue
there will be a referendum
in which you can vote, so at last
we can enjoy a real democracy.
Goodnight.
(# FORCEFUL MARCHING MUSIC)
Oh, look. There's more coming.
Isn't it nice!
Makes me feel so important.
We are important, Loretta. A vital cog.
Hats off to Rimmer.
(READS) Should we keep a continuing
military presence in Binwandi?
(MR SPIMM) Mmm.
(MANDEVILLE) The
whole country's gone mad.
(BREAM) The public doesn't know anything
about government.
What does he think he's doing?
(MANDEVILLE) He's off his head!
(BREAM) I suppose there's
one advantage.
He can hardly fail to stay in power.
(MANDEVILLE) In power? What power?
The public have got all the power.
Everyone's gone mad.
(WILTING) Are you going to resign?
(MANDEVILLE) I'm not mad. They are.
Well, that's done.
Bedtime, I think.
I, er...
I think I was right to take
a firm line on China.
(MRS SPIMM) Oh, guess you had to.
(BEEPER SOUNDS)
(MRS SPIMM) Ooh, quick, it's
the emergency tele-vote!
(VOICE FROM TV) Hello again.
The Government
would like to know your feelings
on water pollution.
(RIMMER) What could be more boring
than water pollution?
(NISS) Regional Development?
- That is a good one.
(PHONE RINGS)
Hello?
Oh dear...
The postmen are threatening to strike.
Good!
(DOGS BARK AND WHINE)
How can I be expected to know
about the agrarian reforms
of Nang-I-Tuot?
(MR SPIMM) Yes, I know
his heart's in the right place
and he's doing it for us.
And let's be fair
he never sought power.
But this isn't democracy.
He shouldn't try and get us involved.
That's his job. He's the leader!
I mean, that's what we're paying
him for, isn't it?
(PRINGLE) During today...
(MR SPIMM JOINS CHANT) No more polls!
...the demonstrations
against the new democracy
have reached their peak.
Pillar boxes have been blown up
and a group of twenty
Post Office workers
have chained themselves to the railings
outside Buckingham Palace.
(NEWSREADER) Earlier today,
National Poll Board chairman
Peter Niss faced a furious crowd
demanding an end
to 'government by referendum'.
(EXCITED COMMENTATOR) ...from The Grocer,
and at the post it's...
(VOICE FROM TV INTERRUPTS. A BEEPER SOUNDS)
Hello again. Regional Development.
If you turn to page 98
of your TV voting guide
you will find full details
of tele-vote number 218...
(MACHINE SQUAWKS)
(RIMMER) As your Prime Minister,
I hope I've never been afraid
to admit my own mistakes.
In every way, the economy is booming
but I must admit that our experiment
in participatory democracy
seems to have run
into some difficulties.
Perhaps I was too idealistic.
It may well be, that in
these modern times
we need a more streamlined form
of presidential government.
You must let me know
if you share these feelings.
Next week, you'll have
the chance to tell me
in what could be, if it's your wish,
the last referendum for some time.
(DIRECTOR) Right, cut it.
How's that for you?
(RIMMER) Okay, Brian. That's the one.
I've read this referendum.
What you're suggesting
is nothing more or less
than dictatorship!
Well you, like everybody else, Hugh,
will have a chance to vote against it.
It's perfectly democratic.
But what you don't realise, is that
ninety percent of the population
are idiots!
I always thought all men were equal.
You won't get away with this, Rimmer!
(BYSTANDERS CHEER AND APPLAUD)
(# STIRRING BRITISH TRIUMPHAL MARCH)
(WILTING) Venceremos!
We shall overcome!
Venceremos! We shall overcome!
(MUSIC BUILDS)
(WILTING) Excuse me, may I get by?
Mind out!
Move, man. This thing's hot!
Venceremos! We shall overcome!
(MUSIC ENDS)
(FERRET SCREAMS AS HE FALLS)
(CROWD GASPS)
(LOUD EXPLOSION)
(DYING AWAY TO COMPLETE SILENCE)
(# MAIN THEME REPRISES)