Original subtitles

Well, if you're just joining us on Frisbee FM, I'm talking

to Simon Magwitch, who just won this year's Hampshire's Got Talent

for playing Beethoven's 5th Symphony on the xylophone.

Just part of the first movement.

And the amazing thing - and I must admit that even I didn't know this -

is that you're not a professional xylophone player, Simon?

Oh, no, it's strictly a hobby.

But no-one seems to know what you do the rest of the time.

No.

I mean, what you do for your day job?

Mm.

Do you have a day job, Simon?

Erm...

Yes, I suppose I do.

You SUPPOSE you do?

Yes.

Well, I suppose it's a job.

It's never really been properly explained to me.

Ha-ha-ha!

Never been properly explained to you.

I know the feeling, Simon.

And I bet lots of the listeners do too.

Really? Absolutely.

Tell us about this mysterious job, then.

Can I? Do...?

Do you think that would be all right? Absolutely.

It's just that nobody's ever asked me before.

I'm asking now, Simon.

You've got us all on tenterhooks.

Well, it's quite dull really.

It's been the same every day since I was a child.

Uh-huh...

All that happens is,

I get up at dawn, and then a car with blacked-out windows pulls up,

and I get in and I'm taken to The Foundation.

Sorry, the foundation for...? What foun...?

Just The Foundation.

And then I'm greeted by The Proctor, who is a different person every day

with the same face, and I drink The Elixir, and then I undress

and exfoliate, before being lead to my console so that I can participate

in The Game.

The...

You... I can't really tell you much about The Game.

They play me white noise through the earphones

and I go into a sort of trance.

But I think it involves numbers.

Many, many numbers.

And special diagrams.

And maps, too, sometimes. maps of distant places.

Mountain ranges and austere temples...

LOWER REGISTER: ..and cities of glass in the desert.

Right...

NORMAL VOICE: And before I know it,

I've performed the Custom of Forgetfulness,

and I'm back in the car and home by lunchtime.

I see.

And then, at the end of every month,

£3 million drops into my bank account.

So, I think it must count as a good job,

as well as probably also very...

..very serious.

HE GULPS LOUDLY

Right... Right, well, we've all learned something today -

Simon's doing all right for himself

and the panic button under my desk doesn't work.

Here's The Sugababes.

I am Sally!

I don't take no for an answer.

I GIVE no for an answer.

Steve here.

I'm a Gemini, and I'm twinned with success.

I'm Zoe.

I'm here to win, and then I'm going home.

My home is superbly decorated.

I'm Paddy. And these shoes are made for stamping...

..on the heads of the oppo!

Carol's my name, but there's nothing Christmassy about getting

on the wrong side of me.

I'm Chris.

I'm a winner, and I'm not here to make friends.

I AM here to make friends.

Hi, I'm Nigel.

Susan.

Call me Susie.

But only if I give you permission,

which I don't!

I'm Brian.

I aim to be punctual, and I often manage it.

I'm Alex.

I am to winning what beetroot is to pink piss...

..integral.

I'm Gemma.

I love clubbing

the opposition to death.

I'm Andy.

At school they called me Andy Pandy.

It made me violent.

I'm Amanda.

And I like winning so much I bought the company.

And then I sold it for many diamonds.

I'm Sarah.

And if winning were a disease, I'd be dead.

Those are the contenders, and this is Hot Seat.

Let's play.

CHILDISH MUSIC PLAYS

MUSIC STOPS

Sorry.

Ah...

Oh, dear.

Ah, it was pretty tough.

There was a lady who was really digging in with her elbows.

Had a...had a great time the last few weeks, so...

I thought I was... Well, I thought I could probably get pretty close

to the end, but...

..ruined it.

Previously on Sweary Aussie Drama.

What the fuckin' fuck!

That fuckin' prick. He's only fuckin' taken them.

I'll beat the shit out of that cock-sucking old bastard!

What the fuck are you shouting about, you fuckin' dick-fucker?

That crafty old prick!

He's fuckin' taken the fuckin' books.

What do you need fuckin' books for, you silly old cunt?

The fuckin' books, you dozy bitch!

He's fuckin' taken the fuckin' books, like a yawning twat.

Fuck's sake!

Fuck out of the fuckin' way! Fuckin' shit!

Where the fuck is your cunt father?

He's not my cunt father.

He's my cunt father-in-law.

He's my fuckin' cunt father!

Well, where the fuckin' fuck is he?

Listen, you stupid prick.

I've kept this fuckin' farm together by the sweat of my fuckin' brow,

and I'll fuck myself and every one of you ugly fuckin' cock-suckers

before I tell you where my dozy fucking cunt father is!

I'm fuckin' here, you prick.

You fuckin' thought you could just fuckin' walk in here

and take my fuckin' farm, you lazy dozy piece of shit fuck cunt?

You fuckin' sold the fuckin' farm to me fair and fuckin' square,

you shit-bag cock-breath bastard.

Then why the fuck don't you have the fuckin' books,

you shit-for-brains dog-fucker?

You should have fuckin' given ME the farm, you smelly old cunt!

Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch! Shut the fuck up, you cunt-breath fuck-dog.

I've got the fuckin' books!

This fuckin' farm's my fuckin' farm now.

Christ! Fuck.

Shit!

Oh, dear.

I mean...

..fu-u-u-ck!

Introducing Stab the Pirate.

The board game for everyone who hates seafaring criminality.

Dad, you stole my barrel of rum.

Yay!

Bad luck.

It's a stabbing.

Argh!

Throw the dice and spin the dial.

Stab the pirate before you yourself are stabbed or shot.

Oh, fuck!

I can't see!

Ow! Ow!

Stab the Pirate.

It's not safe. Out now.

Eyepatch sold separately.

Allow me to pour you some tea, inspector.

Thank you, Lady Agatha.

So, you see, it wouldn't have been possible for Lord Barrington

to move from the study to the library in the time you suggest,

because he was seen having a lengthy conversation with Dr Lacey

in the conservatory, at the same time the hall clock chimed 7:00,

at which point several other guests came down the main staircase,

thereby rendering a covert crossing of the hallway entirely impossible.

Indeed, we are left to conclude that he, or someone very like him,

arrived at the library by way of the gardens,

entering through the French windows, which we know were locked

from the inside.

However, His Lordship could have accessed a key from Jenkins's

potting shed, where a spare set was kept in the yellow flowerpot

on the top shelf.

Jenkins himself said that a key was missing the morning

after the murder.

However, when he checked again late that afternoon,

it appeared to have been returned.

Now, whether or not this can be indicative of foul play

or merely failing memory of an ageing member of staff

remains to be seen.

We realised very early on when making Lady Agatha Investigates that

viewers weren't really watching for the whodunnit aspect of the show.

They were watching for the steam.

It was quite a discovery.

People just love steam - steam trains, steam rooms...

Other steam.

The feeling of steam, the look of steam, the idea of steam,

the romance of steam, the reality of steam, the comfort of steam.

It doesn't matter how it comes, or where it comes from...

Tell me, Jenkins, where were you around noon last Thursday?

Couldn't be entirely sure, Lady Agatha.

Do you mind if I have a jimmy-riddle?

It might help jog me memory.

Oh, go ahead, Jenkins. You'll find me quite unshockable.

I was in the Wrens, you know.

Right.

Well, I suppose, uh... loud SPLASHING

Yes, I remember that day, because there were a couple of pheasies

caught in traps up in the east wood.

Now, that was unusual, cos they don't tend to get up that way

this time of year.

So, I thought, "Funny", I thought, but I didn't make much of it.

That was the day I was trying to get the last of the autumn leaves

on the bonfire and that would have taken me, well,..

I can't be sure.

But young Adam was still off with whooping cough,

so I was on me own, like.

Yeah, all in all, I'd say, uh...

Sorry, what was the question?

There was a brief hiccup when we thought that because people

like steam, they wanted the show to be steamy.

So, for series three, we filmed several very explicit sex scenes

of Lady Agatha banging all of the suspects one after another,

and then finally all together.

And the audience absolutely hated that.

So, we reshot all those scenes with just great plumes of steam

obscuring everything - and everyone was happy.

Oh!

But where were you last Thursday?

Uh!

On the 9.42 to Plymouth!

Ooh! I'll let you off, then.

Oh! Thanks!

Coming soon...

It Happened to You.

Empire Magazine says it's, "The best horror film of the century".

It was so scary!

It was amazing!

I'm still so scared.

The most dreadful two hours of my life.

Definitely.

Just incredible!

I saw it for the first time two weeks ago,

and I've made five attempts on my own life since then!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

HE WAILS

I did a bit of a wee, and it warmed me for a second,

but I'm still scared.

Oh, for God's sake!

HE RETCHES #S

My wife saw it...

..and died of shock!

And then screamed for an hour after she was medically dead!

The reviews are unanimous.

Just a terrible experience.

And the cinema was freezing also.

It was really cold in there. Yeah, it was.

It was really cold.

See it if you dare.

This is bringing up some deeply unresolved shit

that I'm not well placed to deal with right now!

Oh, no, he's in the cupboard! He's in the cupboard!

He's in the cupboard!

You'll be terrified and horrified, genuinely.

I hate this!

I'm having a horrible time!

Just like I requested!

Think about that.

Terrified AND horrified.

Fuck's sake!

It's not at all nice.

This autumn...

..It Happened To You.

Just try not to fidget.

Hi, it's me, Jason.

They used to call me the poor man's Gok Wan,

and then that phrase ceased to mean anything.

Well, welcome to my new vehicle, Hot Seat's Little Stool

Put Your Feet Up, with all the behind-the-scenes goss

of this week's episode of Hot Seat.

And on tonight's show we're very lucky to have as our guest Brian,

who was knocked out.

I say, lucky - it's contractual.

Welcome, Brian.

Hello.

So, you were knocked out. Has it sunk in yet?

Yes.

And are you disappointed?

Yes.

So, what happened? Talk us through it.

Well, the music stopped. Yeah?

And I went for a chair, the nearest chair to me,

but someone got to it before I could get to it.

Yeah.

I have to say, that is quite a familiar story here on Hot Seats

Little Stool Put Your Feet Up.

Anything else to add, Brian?

No. No.

Right, let's have a look at your best bits.

You look over there now.

There you are, sitting down.

Week two, managed it.

Week three, nice one.

Etc, etc.

Ooh, that was touch and go.

You got there.

Yeah, fine. Fine.

And then, finally, as we say,

there you are standing up.

That's it, really.

I've said it before, this format is like a big paper bag

with a couple of Maltesers just rattling around in it.

It's just... It's not substantial, is what I'm saying.

No wonder Trinny turned it down.

And post-Saatchi, she is desperate.

Well, last summer she was pea-vining in Lincolnshire.

She was getting the peas in.

I mean, literally harvesting -

and not in a Clarkson's Farm kind of way.

Untelevised.

I mean, getting up pre-dawn, driving the pea-viner.

You have to keep it straight.

Everyone else is Romanian, you can't talk about handbags.

She had a nightmare.

And you should see the state of her nails.

Jesus.

Bad luck, Brian.

Next time.

Would you like to have a selfie with me?

Not really.

Thanks.

Oh, here they are.

Hello! Hi.

So, Channel 4 have been doing some research on your brand/brands,

and they'd like us to explain the results to you.

Yeah, cos you're obviously too old to understand it for yourselves.

That's right, yeah. Yes, it is.

So, in order to create your content strategies,

they've been assessing everything you've been doing across

your very long, long, long, long careers.

Yeah, and the main goal is to align your brand

with your core values and your beliefs.

And they've generated word clouds, OK?

So, this is what people think of when they think of Rob.

As you can see, a real theme here.

You know, funny, comedian, Mr Funny Man.

Dancing. They loved you on Strictly.

Thanks. Why is the word "death" there?

Oh, that's just something that came up.

You don't need to dwell on it.

But why would people say death when they thought of me?

You know, it's like a free association.

People, they go, "Robert, Rob, dad, dad bod,

"balding, old, death."

You know, it just, like, comes up.

There's nothing to worry about.

I'm not balding.

OK, bald, then.

It's just like a jumping off point.

You know, patterns of people's perceptions.

Do you think of death when you look at me?

I do.

But I think of death when I look at anyone.

Guys, you're overthinking it.

There's a bunch of other words. It's not even that big.

How many people had to say "death" for it to show up there?

Oh, like 20% of the respondents, it's minimal.

Why is death bigger than Peep Show?

You know, death is bigger than Peep Show.

Get used to it.

OK, funny. Let's focus on funny, comedian.

So, we're thinking for your branding colours,

bright oranges, yellows.

You know, young mobile, loose, alive, living.

OK, sure.

And, David, we've done the same sort of thing with the word for you,

and this is what came up.

You've got to be kidding me!

Again, it's nothing to look into.

It's just one word.

There are loads of other words.

What are the other words? I can't...

Yeah, they're almost too small.

Uh, I can see "cunt", "cunti",

"cunt" with a k, "cunt face".

Does that say "cunt-asuras-twat"?

So, the word we're dealing with mostly is cunt.

Yeah, and for your branding colours, we were thinking

a lovely emerald green,

or a cunty little shade of mauve.

This is ridiculous. Who did they ask?

Where does this word cloud come from?

THEY BOTH STAMMER

I can't hear you. Could you speak up, please?

See, he is kind of a... I said "please".

It's just the people at the channel.

Let's move on.

OK, and here is the combined word cloud

for the Mitchell and Webb brand.

Oh, lots of different words to play with here!

We've got "dry"

and "contrast".

And we, of course, still have a pretty big half-cunt there

because of the ginormous cunt on David's word cloud.

How many people needed to say "cunt" for it to show up this big?

Statistically, I think...

..everyone. Everyone said it.

Yes, everyone said it in one way or another.

In one way or another?

They all said it?

Did they ask you? Did you all say it?

Let's not get caught up on the details.

Details would be nice, nuance would be nice.

A person can't be all cunt.

No, and that's why according to this you're only 98% cunt.

Yeah, there's a 2% margin of error.

Look, it doesn't have real world ramifications, lads.

You know, this is just Channel 4's communication strategy.

They've also been working on a poster.

Well, that actually is quite nice.

No! Please!

Shut up, Spanners. You know what you did.

Yeah, you...

You shut your face.

Please, I've got a family!

You do?

What, like kids family, or like cousins?

Oi, oi.

No talking to him. We get this done, we get out.

Nephews!

Oh, I dunno, Frank.

This all seems a lot, killing someone.

It seems like too much.

If I kill him, I would've killed someone.

You know?

You use a mobile phone, don't you?

Yeah.

Well, then. You can't suddenly be all

"Oh, I don't want to murder this man,"

and then be browsing on your phone.

Google where the precious metals for your precious phone come from.

Google it.

What, using my phone? N...

It's child soldiers in Africa, OK?

Everyone knows that.

So, you can't not kill this man, but then use a phone.

Is that the same?

Yes. It's exactly the same.

You can't make moral distinctions AND have a phone.

Or use shower gel.

What?

Because of the palm oil.

Because of the palm oil. Oh, you had a lovely lather

with your Mango Madness this morning?

Well, congratulations, you just killed nine orangutans.

Yeah, I bet they had nephews as well.

All right, well, I won't use shower gel or my phone.

Yeah. Uh-uh!

Then you won't be able to hold a job down or participate in society.

And I'm thinking if I leave this job, then...

We'll kill you, yeah. You'll kill me, yeah.

You have to have a mobile phone.

Even in the non-organised crime world,

your quality of life would be severely impacted.

Yeah. So, you gonna get off your high horse

and bury this man alive or what?

The fact that you would even consider not burying this man alive

makes you the worst one here.

Does it?

Yeah, because you're a hypocrite.

You just can't live without your instagram, can you?

Shut up. Just shut up.

PHONE PINGS

It's Facebook Marketplace.

Looking for some new cushions.

PHONE RINGS

You should really have that on silent for this kind of work.

Argh!

Hi, Agnetha, darling.

Hi, Bjorn, darling.

I've written another hit for our group, ABBA.

Oh, good. You'll love it.

It's about what a terrific singer you are, Agnetha.

Oh, well, that's nice of you.

But shouldn't it be about some unspecific failed relationship,

like usual?

No, Agnetha...

It is Agnetha, isn't it?

It's not just Anthea, and I've been saying it wrong?

No, it's Agnetha. We're Swedish.

That'll be it.

Anyway, I think you're such a lovely singer,

I just had to write about it.

It's called Thank You For The Music.

OK.

Just concerned that might come across as a bit self-congratulatory.

No, I think we'll be all right. Have a look.

"I'm nothing special.

"In fact, I'm a..." What?

It says, "I'm a bit of a bore".

Yeah, I know what it says.

It's an English expression for someone who...

I know what it means.

"I'm nothing special"? That's the first line.

That's what you want me to sing?

Yeah, it'll be funny, because it'll come across as self-deprecating.

You know, insight.

But it's not MY insight, is it? It's YOUR insight...

..into me, your wife.

Everyone knows YOU write the songs, Bjorn.

You and Benny, who's married to the other one, at the moment, we think.

Difficult to keep up. Wikipedia isn't very clear.

People are going to know this is what you're saying about me,

and then making me sing.

"I'm nothing special. In fact..."

Look...

In fact, apparently, in fact, I'm a bit of a...

I mean, nice of you to go with "bit of a".

Why not just get it all out your system and say "extremely boring"?

I mean... "Boring bitch".

"I'm nothing special. In fact, I'm a boring bitch."

Just keep reading, it comes round a bit.

Look, Benny...

Bjorn. Whatever.

If you want to get divorced now, instead of next year - when we do -

why don't you just say so?

Look, you're not giving it a chance.

It's mostly nice. Read the chorus.

"So, I say thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing."

Who am I thanking here, Bjorn?

Am I thanking God for my musical talent?

Or am I just thanking you for the material?

No, I...

Or have both concepts become merged in your Bjorn-God head?

SARCASTICALLY: Thank you, Bjorn, for writing the content,

for the content I'm performing.

Nobody uses the word "content" like that, Agnetha.

This is 1976, or '7.

I've had just about enough women's lib for one day.

I'm off to write a musical with Tim Rice about chess.

Oh, yeah? What you going to call it?

We'll think of something clever.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media