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[punchy upbeat music]
I'd like to thank David Cameron
for stepping down as an MP with such grace.
We will see that he gets a proper send off which reflects
the regard in which he is held by the British public.
[underwater screaming]
Flush him, flush him, flush him.
-[David] Stop! -[laughs]
[laughs]
Right, could you write the software's name down for me
on a piece of paper?
Piece of paper, ha ha, yeah, good one, grandpa.
A piece of paper, as if.
Right, who's next? Mrs. Winkelman?
Oh yes, hello, I've got a problem with my device.
Smartphone or tablet?
-A cohost. -Keep dancin',
keep, keep, keep dancin'.
Oh, the TessBot 2000.
She needs fixing, and fast.
The live shows start next week.
What happened, has she been dropped?
Oh well, bafflingly, no, and it's been 14 series now.
Hello, System Check, report function status.
The judges' scores are in, in, in, in, in, in, in--
Oh dear, did someone ask her a question
not on the auto queue?
Biz boom, dancer flambrioliolioli.
Okay, let's try a quick restart.
[mechanical whirs]
Oh dear, totally blank.
Great, brilliant, she's back to normal.
[stealthy music]
Listen up, Peaky Bakers.
It's time for our gang to muscle in on some new turf.
Bake-off's moving to Channel 4, who's going?
No way, we're pulling out.
Woo-ha, pulling out, bit rude.
[laughs]
Shut your layer cake holes and listen.
This deal means we could all be richer
than sticky toffee pudding.
Aunt Mary, let's see the dough.
Here it is.
Nice, with this much bread,
you and me could own cooking on television.
No one could stop us.
-[glass shatters] -[Mary] Bomb!
Chocolate bomb, with shards of meringue.
And there's only one scumbag
who tempers chocolate that badly.
-Sausages, potato. -Oy, Peaky Bakers,
this is our patch.
-Meat. -[gasps]
Good boy, Greg.
Us master chefs built up the competitive cookery
slash baking genre from nothing.
Then you lot just swan in for 10 episodes each summer
and get double our viewing figures.
-[growls] -Cockerels
And now you two could piss off to Channel 4
for some easy money, nobody disrespects Artie babe.
Back down, Torode, by order of the Peaky Bakers.
-No chance. -Watch out, he's got
a massive weapon.
And a kitchen utensil.
[laughs]
-Greg, kill. -[Greg roars]
[explosion]
What the dingo is that?
I think your kitchen might have just
mysteriously burned down.
I put it on Gas Mark 3000.
You've just made a big mistake.
Not as big as Channel 4.
Who-ha, wobble quiff.
Well, the little one's coming along very nicely.
[yells]
Hello, antenatal ward, great to be back.
Ah, you must be the grandfather.
Excuse me, I'm the father.
-Hi Mick. -Hey, I'm one in five.
-Stella, Louise. -[sighs]
-Melanie. -That's the one.
Now, about your birth plan, will you be wanting drugs?
Too bloody right, I will.
So, you are going to make it to the birth, then.
Who knows, every day is a bonus, doc.
Oh look, it's wriggling around all over the place.
Yeah, it's definitely mine.
Oh, good grief, your waters have broken.
Whoops, my bad, a little accident.
Just call me Jumping Jack Splash.
-[yells] -[thuds]
Looks like we'll need to find another bed.
In your dreams, love, you're far too old for me.
[Narrator] Bake off presenter auditions, Chris Evans.
[clacks]
You want a new presenter for a long running,
smash hit TV show who definitely won't ruin it
and lose millions of viewers.
I'm your man, brilliant.
Anyone for doughnuts by the Cenotaph?
You've got pneumonia, Missus Clinton.
You need to get plenty of rest.
Hey honey, I made you your favorite, chicken soup.
How are you feeling?
I must be delirious.
I dreamt I was running for president against
an angry orangutan with tiny little hands.
-Um, honey. -Oh my god,
it wasn't a dream.
I can't lie in bed, I gotta get back out there.
If you'll just have a look at this chart.
I don't care how high my goddamn temperature is.
That's not your temperature, that's your poll rating.
For some reason, when you're not out doing
public appearances people seem to,
Forget how much they dislike you.
So, what do you idiots want me to do, huh?
Lie here for six weeks and say nothing?
Uh, chicken soup?
[mellow music]
This vase is quite unique.
It's late Edwardian and worth at least.
-[smashes] -Oi, oi saveloy.
Here, forget about that mucky lot of old clobber.
What are you gonna give me for this tasty piece of loot?
Is that a genuine Constable?
Where? Oh, I mean, is it? I wouldn't know.
I found it in the east wing of Buckingham Pala--
[vocalizes]
Of me baby sister's Wendy house.
Nice one, Chaz.
Well, this masterpiece could fetch
about 10 million pounds.
Wa-hay, Vegas here I come.
[vocalizes]
I mean, here we come.
What about this bobby dazzler, yeah?
Is that the royal crown?
Well, you tell me, you're the bleeding expert.
[sirens wail]
Uh-oh, it's the beefeaters.
Woo, I can't be caught with this.
Here, it's yours for whatever you've got in your wallet.
-[vocalizes] -My wallet!
Good work, sis, laters potaters.
Well, I--
Oh, and if she asks you ain't seen us, right?
Be lucky, oi oi saveloy.
[punchy upbeat music]
Ed Milliband, what can I get you?
-Cappuccino please. -And, I'll have a latte.
What's your name?
Owen, Owen Smith.
Weeks campaigning to be labor leader and still
nobody knows who I am.
I wouldn't say that, Owen Thingy.
Even my exclusive story about fighting off
hundreds of louts to win my wife only made page 33.
Well, don't worry, I've got a plan to get you
back in the headlines.
-Meet Bogdam and Doorack, -Hello.
Two eastern European rent boys.
-Hey? -Same rents as Keith Vaz.
You'll be on the front pages in time.
I give up.
Coffee's for Ed and is it Gwen?
At least I tried.
[Narrator] Bake-off presenter auditions, Noel Edmonds.
[clacks]
I've got this great idea to tweak the format.
All the cakes are in identical sealed boxes.
Then, the phone rings and it's the baker.
-[Woman] Next. -[sighs]
[mellow music]
[Narrator] Coming soon from Desperate Franchise
Productions, Top Gun, The Reboot.
Starring Vladimir Putin.
I feel the need, the need for speed.
Oh, I love this big chopper.
[Narrator] The world is on the brink of Armageddon.
A Russian MiG has just invaded NATO airspace.
-I know, I sent it. -You're dangerous.
That's right, buddy. I'm Maverick, I make up my own rules.
How else is Russia going to win next World Cup.
-[groans] -Oh, goal-ski.
I'm going for missile lock, ready aim, cease fire.
[explosion]
Oops, sorry wasn't me.
[Narrator] And, featuring that scene.
♪ You never close your eyes anymore ♪
♪ When I kiss your lips ♪
You are singing to the girl, right?
Oh yeah, to the girl, for sure.
♪ And, there's no tenderness♪
[Narrator] Will anyone ever be safe again?
Now, we oil our chests and play manly beach volleyball.
Then, we take manly shower in manly man's
changing room, yes?
[Narrator] Top Gun, coming soon to
a sovereign airspace near you.
I love to cruise, oh I mean Tom Cruise.
-[jet engine] -[dramatic music]
[mellow music]
You all right there, Danny Dyer?
Actually Phil, I'm feeling a bit Queen Vic.
-You what? -You know,
Cockney rhyming slang. Queen Vic, sick.
I've got a nasty case of the Sharon Watts.
What you talking about?
Sharon Watts, trots.
-Oh right. -I think that kabab
I ate was a bit Dot Cotton.
Dot Cotton, rotten.
Now, you're getting the hang of it.
What you say we roll out the barrel and have
a right royal Cockney knees up.
Blimey, you're action is Danny Dyer.
Dyre? Dyre on fire.
-No, shit. -[groans]
[Narrator] Bake-off presenter auditions, Michael Gove.
[clacks]
So, you want a new Mel and Sue.
Does it have to be a double act?
Only, I don't have many old friends left.
Also, I'm not allowed to go near a Nied's.
Will you be my friend?
Are you texting your ex again?
Hey? Of course I'm bloody not.
Oh, you sent these disgusting photos to her, you bastard.
[glass breaks]
Do I hear a domestic dispute? Anger, violence?
It's pure Jeremy Kyle, come on my show.
No mate, we're fine, we're all right, really.
Sympathetic voice, I promise I won't pretend
to be your friend mate or make you out to be
some kind of pantomime villain.
Boo, or goad you into an on screen fight.
Have you seen those disgusting photos?
-Yes. -[sobs]
Oh, please don't cry, love.
Yeah, seriously, don't cry you'll attract--
Do I hear the splash of tears?
Leave them alone, Kyle.
They belong to This Morning, now.
Think of all the sympathetic nodding we can do
while these two break down on camera.
The tearing up.
The phone ins.
The inappropriate fit of giggles.
[laughs]
-Come with us. -No, they're mine.
-Order, order. -[bangs]
-Judge Rinder. -As a fake judge,
from a pretend court I cannot allow you to exploit
this couple for cheap daytime entertainment.
-Hey? -Because, I'm going to.
♪ It's courtroom drama time♪
I hope that phone still works.
I'm so going to need to see those disgusting photos,
for evidence, obviously.
[punchy upbeat music]
Literally dying of thirst Bear uses all his skills
and know-how to sort some water.
Oh look, it's Bear Grylls.
Master of survival techniques.
Bet he'll do something really hardcore.
-Oh god. -[water splashes]
Oh, he's going to drink his own urine.
-OMG. -So, tough.
And so, Bear sets out on his next mission
to find some extra strong mints.
[gags]
[Narrator] Bake-off presenter auditions, Wayne Rooney.
[clacks]
I'd like to be a TV presenter when
my playing days are over.
And, given I wasn't even on the bench for the big match
on Thursday, that looks like next week.
[whimsical music]
Ah, what I want, and a spot of bother on
the whole Minister for Foreigns Front.
-What now? -I keep forgetting the names
of all those funny little countries.
So, I've made a new map to keep it simple.
[groans]
This is England, God save her maj, rule Britannia,
footballs coming home, et cetera.
No change there, but from now on this bit
over here will be known as Krautland.
Everything south of here will be
Pickaninny Watermelon Island.
This lot live the People's Republic of Chopsticks.
And, this naughty little bit here will be
Bomby, Bomby, Boomy, Bangy, Jihadi Johnny Foreigner Land.
-Any questions? -So, when would you
like us to start preparations for World War III?
Oh dear, I said something I shouldn't have.
I'll distract you with some funny words.
Algorithm, prognosticate, cystitis, expelliarmus,
buzzar, vier, zip wire.
-[yells] -[glass shatters]
I've gotta say Donald Trump would never exploit
an opponent's poor health for political gain,
but the fact is Illary, I mean Hillary, has given in
to pneumonia, folks.
If I was president I would bomb pneumonia,
and I would build a wall to stop pneumonians getting in.
[cheers]
[coughs]
[gasps]
Don't worry folks, I'm fine. It's just a furball.
[meows]
[perky upbeat music]
♪ She's Missus Crown♪
[Narrator] Ladies and gentleman welcome back
to Missus Crown's Boys.
Hello again, plebs, I'm just about to feed the Corgis.
It's their favorite, Pedigree Swan.
[laughs]
Hello Mommy, have you heard the news?
It was all over the tabloids.
Someone's been filmed snorting a suspicious powder
in the palace.
-Charlie? -No, it was one
of your guards.
[laughs]
Apparently, he snorted it off a ceremonial sword.
That is the most inappropriate use of a royal sword
since I knighted Phillip Green
[laughs]
Of course, it might have just been snuff.
Well, the only thing that ever gets
up my nose is Camilla.
[laughs]
Goddamn it Lillibet, where the fecking feck is it.
Looks like the old man's lost something.
Yes, his fecking marbles.
[laughs]
It's this bloody Brexit business.
I'm looking for my Greek passport.
I'm not paying 50 quid for a ruddy Visa
to visit Europe.
I blame the Germans.
You keep my family out of this.
[laughs]
That's what I love about Missus Crown's Boys,
it's just one dodgy line after another.
[laughs]
Good night, plebs.
[crowd applauds]
[Narrator] New jobs for David Cameron,
number 23 Burger Bar.
Right, imagine I'm a customer, sell me something.
I can't, I've already sold everything off to China.
Just give me a burger.
Oh right, here you go.
And, would you like and OBE with that?
Of course, you will have to start on
a zero hours contract.
No problem, zero hours is exactly what
I used to work as an MP.
[Narrator] New, from Desperate Franchise Productions
Suffragette, the Reboot.
In a time of great injustice one woman would stand up
and be counted.
Sisters, I am a new breed of feminist.
Starring Kim Kardashian.
Fighting oppression of the patriarchy.
Fighting for the right to wear no clothes
-for publicity reasons. -What?
[Narrator] One woman's quest for empowerment.
Up votes for women, more page views for my pum-pum.
Double click on my double Gs.
Put 'em away, madam.
-[slaps] -Sexist.
All my life men have told me what to do.
Chain yourself to the railings, Kim,
you'll look really hot.
Shut up Kanye, you chauvinist pig.
I'm going to chain myself to the railings to look really hot
-for feminism. -Whatever.
[Narrator] Suffragette, she changed the way women
would be see, forever.
Selfie, this is gonna like break the printing press.
[Narrator] New jobs for David Cameron,
number 32, football coach.
So, what makes you think you'll be right for this job?
Well, I've always been a massive fan
of Astonham Rovers.
This is Leicester City, we need a safe pair of hands
who's not gonna do anything stupid and reckless,
that sends us crashing out of Europe.
Good luck with the soccer ball.
[hums]
[gasps]
Come on Tyson, it's only a month till the big fight.
Look at me, heavyweight Champion of the World.
More like fat bastard weight champion.
I've never gonna hurt Klitschko.
Not with your fists, but can still do some serious
damage with your gob.
Yeah, Klitschko, you devil worshiper.
Bosch, you have about as much charisma
as my underpants, bosch.
Nah, Klitchko's heard all your old stuff,
you need some new material.
So, I've got you an insults coach, the most offensive
person I could find.
-Katie Hopkins? -Look at those man boobs,
last time I saw nogs as big as that was in a Starbucks
with a little brat attached, revolting.
Wow, that was below the belt.
-She's good. -So, this Klitschko
is Ukrainian, right?
Let's see what you've got.
Right, I'm gonna send you to hospital, bosch.
Like all those other sponging Eastern Europeans
-using our NHS for free. -Ouch.
Come on, harder.
After I finish with you you'll look even uglier, bosch.
You need to be more offensive, Tyson.
Oh Tyson, isn't that the kind of name thick people
give to their ugly dogs?
Hock it in.
Actually, you are quite like a pitbull.
You should have be stuck in a bag and drowned
-in a canal. -Oy.
[thuds]
Best place for a woman, that, on her back.
Wow, my work here is done.
[rock music]
[X Factor theme music]
Okay Keith, let's hear what you've got.
♪ Bottoms and fannies ♪
♪ And willies and boobies ♪
♪ Boogies and bum grapes ♪
♪ And big snotty loogies ♪
♪ Fat hairy balls sacks ♪
♪ And men's dingalings ♪
♪ These are a few ♪
♪ Of my favorite things♪
-Mine too. -Oh.
♪ When the checks bounce ♪
♪ When the bank rings ♪
♪ When I'm feeling blue ♪
♪ I just shout a few ♪
♪ Of my favorite things ♪
♪ And get me own show ♪
♪ On ITV2♪
-Look ladies it's me wanger. -You wish.
-Aw. -Next.
[punchy upbeat music]
Can you help please? Which way is it to Downing Street?
Downing Street, I'm heading there myself.
Oh, are you really?
Absolutely, you should have seen the Corbinator
take Theresa May apart on Grammar Schools.
I know the way to go, follow me.
-Ah ha. -And, left here.
-Okay. -Left again.
And, take a left. Left, left again.
-Man. -Then, that far left.
Are you sure you know what you're doing?
Oh, ye of little faith.
We just have to keep going.
-Left. -Yep.
Left. Left here. Then left.
You've led us to the wilderness.
Admit it, you've totally lost your way.
Not at all, look, Karl Marx.
See, I told you we were on the right track.
Now left, even further left.
[Narrator] New jobs for David Cameron,
Number 75, Proctologist.
I've always wanted to try my hand at Proctology.
[snaps]
What makes you an expert in that particular
part of the anatomy?
Well, it takes one to know one.
[yells]
The buglatron particle readings are off the chart.
There's about to be a tear in the space time continuum.
[crackles]
-What the? -There's no time.
I've come from the future to warn you,
well me, to get out while you still can.
The upcoming series of Doctor Who
gets even more complicated.
How is that even possible?
I jump across my own potential future time streams,
vaporize my parents before I'm even born
and get scattered across the meta galaxy
while the TARDIS disappears up it's own neutron flow.
-That's incomprehensible. -Quick, hold onto
this time ring.
[crackles]
Where are we?
We've traveled way back in time to when
the series was much simpler.
-[thuds] -And cheaper.
You will be exterminated.
It's an upside down bin with some tennis balls
-stuck to it. -Exactly,
and it's much easier to defeat.
By reversing the polarity, using a reality manipulator
to harness the power of the Hand of Rascelon.
No, by hitting it with a stick.
-[crashes] -Ow, ow.
See, things were so much simpler
on the measly 1970s BBC budget.
-Hang on, BBC 1970s. -[gasps]
We're next door to the Top of the Pops studio.
Let's get out of here.
We can quantum time leap stream to the confusing
past future chronomatrix.
-That's so complicated. -Exactly, it's perfect.
Take me with you, take me with you.
[mellow music]
♪ Adele is me ♪
♪ I'm platinum selling ♪
♪ One woman music industry ♪
♪ My cash is rolling in the deep ♪
♪ I wipe my ass with 50s ♪
♪ I cry diamonds when I weep ♪
♪ But my soul is aching ♪
♪ And longing ♪
♪ For something I cannot have ♪
♪ I wanna be a normal bird ♪
♪ Drive a rusty Micra ♪
♪ Not be chauffeured ♪
♪ I wanna put my bins out ♪
♪ But my drive's nine miles long ♪
♪ And I live too far from a Primark ♪
♪ To buy a leopard print thong ♪
♪ Wanna hit Lidl in the afternoon ♪
♪ Then follow onto Wetherspoons ♪
♪ I'll a pasty in Greggs ♪
♪ And sit on the floor ♪
♪ But my entourage ♪
♪ Won't fit in the store ♪
♪ And I when I take my purse ♪
♪ Out of my Prada coat ♪
♪ They can't give me change ♪
♪ For my thousand pound note ♪
♪ Wanna be an average joe ♪
♪ Why maybe there's a way to go ♪
♪ I know a normal thing I can do ♪
♪ I can swear like a trucker ♪
♪ Shit, bollocks, fuck you ♪
I wish I had a onesie from Asda,
this friggin' Versace dress is itching right up my ass.
[punchy upbeat music]
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