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Another Fool and Horses one.

Started by Glebe, September 04, 2018, 06:29:04 AM

Previous topic - Next topic

Glebe



The feme foon!

INT.NAG'S 'EAD.EVENING

UNCLE GRAND: Knock Knock, Del!

DEL: 'oo's theyah?

UNCLE OLDBEAN: Fancy a game of dominos, Del?

DEL: Nah, not tonoight, you silly old garrety old git! Go on, sling yer 'ook!

UNCLE: Alright, Del. Sob. I know when I'm not wanted. I'm orf tah Tobaccah Road.

AUDIENCE: Awww.

DEL: Y'could always hoide app in the water tank, Albert. Or 'Rodney's Loft', as it's affectionately known to me.

RODDY: You've changed, Del! Next thing you'll be pouring y'self a pina colarda and jivin' to y'Durum Durum LP!



DEL: Anyway, goh a bitta business to sort aht wiv a mysterious colleague.

RODNEY: It's all a bit Julie Christie!

SLATER: 'ello, Del! Surprized?!

EVERYONE IN THE NAG'S HEAD: SLATER!!!

RAQUEL: May I be of any assistance?

AUDIENCE: YAAAAAAAY!!!

DEL: Nah, nah... you go and, you go and wait in dah van, lav.

RACHEL: Alright, then. Think I'll pop on me blonde wig and strip just for old times sake while I'm at it.

DEREK: Yoo do that, girl!



DEL: Naw, Slater. When you went back to sleep, I slipped back into your room and very conveniently stole your wallet again.

SLATER: Sweet fuck all, Derek. Under UK laws, you cannot be convicted for little sparklers twice!

DEL: Yeah, but oi spoke wiv dah police. They danno naffink about ovah sparklers!

SLATER: Now I see you are going angling, Derek. Fancy a deal?

JACK FROST: Can oi have exhibit A, Rodney?

GARY SPARROW: With pleasure, me old china and that.



DEL: Vis, is a broken fax machine. And what can you do with a fax machine?

SLATER: Send faxes. Oh, and copy documents, of course!

DEL: Yes, Roy m'boy!

SLATER: But this wanz broken! Now get out of that, Ironside!

DEL: Y'see, we realiozed thaught. So we took dah liborty of brining it dahn to the repair shop!

SLATER: Well, Del, it looks like I got to catch that train. Have a nice life Trots and name y'baby after me!

RODNAY: Wouldn't think so. Hardly fair the call your child a fucking dickhead, is it?

TRIGGAH: Alright, Dave, how y'doin?

DEREK: Noh bad, Trig, noh ba... hang on, Trig, wotz app wiv yoo! Yoo look different sam 'ow!

TRIGS: Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I've turned into a macaque!

RODNEY: Yoo... oh fack me, this has given me the roight steamin' 'ump!



MACAQUE TRIG: Yeah, it's all dah rage, apparently, dan wine-bar way. What do you think, lads? Does it suit me?

DEL: Weoll oil tell y'wot, Trig, you may earn 'peanuts' for your job - monkey's eat peanuts, heh! - but this change will be a real ba-boon for you!

MIKE: Chortle! (to camera) They're like this every night, I tell yah!



THE END!

EPILOGUE

YOUNG UNCLE ALBERT: Oh Del, oh my dear Del, oh my Del O, I cannoot tell a lie. Me troosers are packed and I would like if I may to just interject wan lost toime. This place used to be full of cafees. 'Docker's cafees', they called 'em. People came ashore wiv banarnas from all corners of Lewisham. By the toime I woz 26, I could swear in six languages! We put a soign app... it said, 'We are rough people, but we are good eggs, and you can break our hearts but we can repair our roofs'. Look wat they dahn to it nah.

Sticklebacks, dahn talk to me about sticklebacks. We saw one in Koala Lumper the soize of a tangerine!

DEL: 'e woz dah wan 'oo thought Jaws was a shark!


DangledTeeth

How did I miss this great thread?!

I might as well contribute a one-off special now I'm about


The Unlucky Stage Fright

Opening Theme

Del: Gordon Plonkett! Cahm orn, Rodders, shake a cock! We're meetin' Paddy the Greek and Monkey 'arris

Rodney: We're realloy gonna meet them this time!?

Uncah Lahbert: Ar expect sao, sahn. ERH-HUH-UOH-HEEGH!

Del: Actually, no. They're off-camera characters. We're off dahn the Nag's 'ead to meet renowned comedy actor and television presen'er
Joanna Lumley and me old pal from New York, the hip-hop maverick known as Ghostface Killah



Joanna Lumley: Oouh, how wwwwwonderful to see you, Derek.

Del grabs her arse and whistles

Del: Lumley's Jubblies!

Ghostface: Ay-yo, Del Boy! Pretty Tone's here with the glorious Lumley, son. 'bout to set this shit off wit' some merchandise, word is bond. Mega Flakes

Joanna: Oh, yum-yum. I'm awf to powder my nose.

Del: I'll take a consignment of them, Ghosty. Sell 'em 'round the parish. 'ere's fifty quid.

Ghostface: Aight, thanks.

Del: Ah! Zat reminds me! (Del pulls an envelope from his inner jacket pocket) Rodney, you've won the Mega Flakes competition. Holiday in Spain.

Rodney: Aoh, cosmic! I can do the pelvic shove into Cassandra's miscarriage cavern.

Del: Kippers-for-tea-in-Spainica! (To Ghostface) And see yer, G-Face. Oh, I've gotta bit of business wiv you when I get back. I'll give yer a bell, alrigh'?

Ghostface: Enjoy your vacation. Peace.

Int. Airport

Rodney: That's funnoy, no'iced it earlier. Mahms and dahyds.

Del: The kid is the winner. You are a Michael. Calm down, Rodney. It's only an 'oliday.

Rodney: They think I'm fawtayn!

Macaqlan Perkins: Hello Rodney. You are a life-long member of the Wu-Tang Clan.



Rodney: The wha'?!

Macaqlan Perkins: The Wu-Tang Clan - it's a little name we thought up. Every time we say 'Are you kids having fun?', you all shout 'Wu-Tang ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit'!'

Del: G'on, Rodney, you're goin' wiv ver Wu-Tang Clan

Carmen: Eeh, you grrrringo peesa sheet, jou can have jumbo burger and thirty-seex french fries.

Rodney: Aooh, cuntsmic! Cunts-fucking-mic!

Next week - Starlite Rooms

Del: Rodney, see tha' bloke at the table, he's Eugene Macaqthy. Not a nice villain. Must impress.



Eugene: Evenin', Del. I heard you've provided tonight's shindig. My dear old mother mustn't be disappointed as it is her birthdays.

Del: Nothin' but der sehr beste. Oh, here is Rodney, my road manag-

Rodney: I have no involvement with the bookings or artistic input. I swayp ahp an' make the toiea.

Eugene: Here's to a good evening

Del: You sit back an' enjoy.

Eric: We have a duo of very talented musicians here for you tonight. They've just finished their sold-out US tour with Roger Waters and Funkadelic,
and have decided to add an extra date here before they attend the Grammy Awards

Rodney: Where'd he get that pack of deceitful bollockage from?! (Glances at Del) Might've guessed.

Raquel: Cry-iiiii-ing

Tony Starksalino



Del: Fast exit

Boycie: And quick!

Int. Flat

Del: 'ow'd it go, sweet'eart?

Raquel: Oh, Ghostface's friends turned up, and we saw it until the end: Pwotect Youw Neck. Clan in da Fwont. Bwing da Wuckus. Cash Wules Evewything Awound Me

Rodney: Followed by the gweatest hits of Supweme Clientele.

Del: Not funny, Wu-dney. Rodney!

Albert: Ar'll make sahm taoasted Vol-wu-vents and a flask of caold tea, sahn. Yah. An' 'ave a bih awv rahm jast ta waom me cockles.

Door: Ding-dong.

Del: 'ammer an' nails.

Ghostface appears

Ghostface: Money, son.

Raquel, Ghostface and Rodney hold out their open palms

Ghostface: I've got a dope flow. Bars for days. Punchlines that end careers. Just 'cos I don't sing like the rest of them, those Starlite motherfuckas ain't take me seriously.

Uncah Lahbert: There's Roy Jenkins and Jonathan Ross.

Ghostface: The fuck is Christmas beard talknbout?! Never mind, yo. Peace y'all, I'm out.

Ghostface exits

Phone: Ring-ring

Del: Hello? Oh... Eugene... yes. Well er, I'm going to involve Rodney by uttering his na- Oh, y-yes. I'll see you tomorra. Bonjourevoir.

Raquel: Well?

Del: 'is mum liked you. Thought it was the most hilarious thing she's ever seen. Booked you two for a for'night

Del runs to the balcony

Del: Tony. Too-oony! I've got some more bookings for you. Stick with me, son, and I'll make Wu rich.

End Theme - NSFW Lyrics

Ferris


Glebe

Quote from: FerriswheelBueller on October 13, 2018, 10:55:17 PMThese are superb.

It's the macaques, Ferris... they add that extra, shall we say, "je nais se quois"!

Ferris

Quote from: Glebe on October 14, 2018, 05:28:46 AM
It's the macaques, Ferris... they add that extra, shall we say, "je nais se quois"!

They are certainly a strong point in the "plus" column. Glad to see you posting a bit more!

Chairman Bodog

Four Foot Grandad: He's got a Police record.

Alopecia Del: Yeah, sexual assault and battery.

Crotchless Copper Lady: I'm at odds with your insubordination. You're impertinent and lack proper discipline. You have harboured stolen goods, including the Deep Sea Diver's Terrorist Overwatch that I clocked on the MI5 web blog. I even caught you violently raping that Blossom, who is known to the old bill as having repeated acute manic episodes. There were also questionable image files on your computer.

Harlequin Icthyosis Rodders: I bought you a donor salad.

Glebe



Just when you thought there was none more releases, along comes Cor Blimey Mate, Why is It That Only Work-Horses and Bloody Fools Loike Us Works?! - The Complete Collection! Add that to y'Christmas stocking list!

Starring David (pronounced "Da-vid") Argonaut as David 'Davey-Boys' Trootle, the show brought in millions during its heyday run from 1982-2005. Also starring were Gary Lynchburg as Woddie Trootle, Granddad Lennie as Granddad Trootle and Buster Brown Gonad as Uncle Granddad Alfred Happyrocks Trottle, the programme was hugely popular from Land's Groats to John's End, despite it's highly racial speech that was popular in East End London during the 1980's. Writer Jom Soolithreewheelvans was feted for his greatness, but he did express one regret; "Really, I should have used 'Bladdy' for Bloody, and maybe even 'Az' for 'Us' in the title, to better suit the lingo!" Gordon Bladdy Bennett!

The whole caboodle is available EXCLUSIVELY! from Poundstretcher, priced £1.49, quite soon. But in the meantime, here's the classic theme to get you in the mood! Good luck!

The classic theme!

cbmwiitowhabfluw.org - official fan site.

Glebe

#7
GOLDEN FAVOURITES ON GOLD!



DAVID JASON IN A CHAIR: Hello, it is I, Sir David Jason MBE OBE CBE BA Emeritus, sitting in A CHAIR. I have been arsekd by the Gold to pick anovvah ov moi personul favewits. And here it is, form the episode 'Leave it to Uncle!'

INT.LOUNGE.EVENING.

Del, Raquel and Albert are relaxing and watching TV. Albert is recuperating from pretending to have been beaten up by undercover police skinheads.

RACHEL/RAQUEL: Alright, Albert?

ALBERT: Foine, lav. I'll jast have anovvah tot ah ram... jast tah 'keep dah cowld aht me bownes', Del!

DEL: Get it y'self, y'coward.

UNCLE: Anyway... durin' tha' woah-

RACHEL: Ow fuck me.

UNCLE AL!: ... durin' tha' woah, me and Nobby Stiles was stationed out in Africa. This was the Boar War, y'see. Then suddenly I seen a- ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!



DEL: What the flamin' fuck?

ALBERT: I done a very foolish thing. I, a grown man, I wet meself.

DEL (tenderly): That's awoight, unc. Everybody daz it samtoimes. I'll get Roderney to sit in it later, for a lorf, loike.

ALBERT: Nah, I mean back in the Bore War, I wet meself! But I seen A TIGER!

DEL: A tiger? In Africa?

ALBERT: Wot?

DEL: I say A tiger... in AFRICA?!

RAQUEL: Shhh.

UNCLE THE AL: Nah, I dan mean in Africa... oi mean NAW!

RODDIE (from BALCONY): Del, I have jast been talking to Oliver and his Army... THERE IS A TIGER LOOSE IN THE CITY!

RACH: ARRRRGGGGHHH!!! There it is!

TIGER: ROAR!

DEL BOY!: Gordon bleedin' Bennett ... here Rodney, I wet meself, cam an sit 'ere!

THE END!



Glebe

Quote from: Gregory Torso on November 17, 2018, 09:27:12 AMI will never get tired of these.

Thanks Greg! The quality control varies, but I feel like I'll never truly be able to give them up!

DangledTeeth

Lavvly Jarbbly posts!

Time for more David Jason and his selection of classics

--



Sir DJ: Oh... alright there? His Royal OBE Jason Sir here to presen' my top three matter-of-fact Aonly Fools Inorses. We shall commence with Number three of three - not necessarily in tha' order, mind.

Big Brothers

Int. Nags 'ead

Del: We're 'ere to meet Trigger

Rodney curls his lower lip inwards

Rodney: Whoy d'they call 'im Trigger?! Duz 'e carry a gahn?

Del: Gordon from Thomas the Tank! How can you not knaow who Trig is!? He's me old mate from school. I've been wheelin' an' dealing for yeehs since you woz a nipper *Del goes tip-toed and raises his hand to the fullest extent* thaa-aaht high - an' when I say 'high', I daon't mean the effect of when you toot on your calypso whistle.

Rodney: Oh, cuntsmic! Wha' am I like?! Auldon... this is the first episode. The finer details of our universe are yet to be laid out. In other words, we don't yet know about Trigger being an old school mate of yours.

Del: Good point, 'alf-brother. (Calling) Moychael! Boh-ul of your finest champagne.

Rodney: Del, I don't know who Mike Fisher is, but he first appears in Who's a Pretty Boy.

Trigger: Conspihshush brief cases. I did not pronounce 'conspicuous' correctly, but I did just then.

Del: Sao, what's ahp with these dodgy wares, Trig, me old ma'e?

Trigger: Well Del, some arseface only went an put the fuckin' combinations inside the briefcases. This is incredibly problematic.

Del: Nah, sorry, the deal is off.

Rodney: Veronica's yacht

Audience: UH-HAH-HUH-HAH-UH-HAH

-

David Jason: Wha' a cushty scene that was! And the next iiiis number two - May the Force be With You, where Rodney goes on a date wi- *David looks at an OOV producer* Do what? Oh, it's Long Legs of the Law. I thought that was the one with Broadbent. Oh! These aren't the only titles I get mixed up. I sometimes think A Losing Streak is called 'A Royal Flush', poker terminology. A Royal Flush is the one where Rodney tries to fuck that posh bint and Lord Moneysacks doesn't like the idea of a wedding. *David faces the camera* Oh, yeah, Here's the clip.

Int. Trotter Towers

Rodney: I am going on a date. She has a career. I met her in that bar last night.

Del: And that was where you coyly tried to chat up that policewoman. I wonder what your date's occupation is... let's see... no. I can't delduce or bonnet deduce this one, Rodney. Come on, tell us.

Rodney: She is a policewoman, you cosmic moron!

Del: Oi! Don't you go implying I'm stupid. You better not bring 'er back to the fleht.

Rodney: Why not, Del?

Grandad: Felines and canines.

Del: Thing is, Rodney - the sharp-minded member of the Trotters - thissss is our, shall I say, ware'ouse emporium hoard of shifty gear. Naow, the legality of our black mawkit laggage is distinctly unacceptable in the eyes of the Old Bill. It'll be very unfortunate for our business if you bought policewoman Sandra to our HQ.

Rodney: Aooooh yeeeaaaah! That'll be devasta'in'. I mean, we'd have to 'ide things, some'ow chuck all our earthly furniture into a compact garage.

Del: Exactly exact, Rodney. Due to the fact I've purchased a load of questionable merchandise over the years, it's difficul' for me to differentiate between legitimate and dodgy. Which means I'd 'ave to play it safe and whack everything into the garage thereby reducing this flat to bareness, this would appear very suspicious to a 'hyperparental' [hypothetical] police team - who the fuck would live in a flat with no furniture?!

Rodney: Yes. We cannot risk going to prison. I'll end my date with Cassandra.

Del: No, it's Sandra. Cassandra is series 6.

-

Sir MBE David: Pick das bones outta thaaa-aaat, sweet'eart. What a fuckin' milestone in Bri'ish comedy that clip was. And for the final clip, it's not actually MoF; more of a fusion of 'comedy soap'. Did you ever wonder wha' happened to Arnie the Conman? We will find out... don't press pause on yer remote. Treat yerself. G'on! Watch das clip...


Chain Gang

Int. Ambulance

Arnie: Another successful con mission. Inhale with pride annnnnd I'll open my eyes.

Arnie opens his eyes and sees the Nag's Head crew



Del: Hey Arnold. Bet you didn't expect to see Del Boy and the consortium here.

Boycie: HAH-AGH-EGH-EGH-AGH-AGH-EGH

Arnie: Why no, I didn't. And I woulda got away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddlin' consortium.

Del: Could you hand me the bolt-cutters, Dr Gladstone.

Albert: Yuw knah me, sahn. Ar'm sayin' naffink.

Mike: You're not having this surgery on the slate.

Arnie: Now come on, chaps, let's not be macabre. You don't need to cut my twinkler off with bolt-cutters - or any instrument. Removing my penis is not on the menu.

Del: Eurrgh! Wha' sort of blaoke do you take me for?! I'm gonna relinquish our loot by snipping the chain.

Arnie: Well, those terms seem acceptable. That concludes our business. Will you excuse me, I've got a train to catch. Have a nice life, consortium.

Consortium: Oh, we will. Don't you worry, Arnie.

Arnie: Del, do us a favour... when the baby's born, if it's a girl, name her after me.

Rodney: I find it inappropriate to call a kid cuntytits.

Arnie: No, doesn't have a ring to it.

Arnie attempts to leave the ambulance and Boycie impedes his path

Arnie: You've got your earnings. I've learned the true meaning of Xmas. Now, if you'll excuse me...

Del: Oh, no-no-no-no, Arnold. You're not getting out of this one. Not on your cartoon elephant.

Arnie: Wh-where are you taking me?!

Mike: Our pal Denzil, whom you've attempted to con, has rounded up a couple of his brothers and had a rendezvous with your two sons, where they shall get kicked to fuck.

Boycie: And we're gonna hand you over to Denzil's mate Pat from Liverpool and his assistant.

Trigger: Some geezer called Andy.

Arnie: Now let's be reasonable, fellas. There's no need t-

Del: Could you hand me the j-cloth and chloroform, Dr Aubrey.

Boycie: Eh?! We don't need him unconscious.

Del: Yeah, uh know thaa-aaht. I just wanna have a nap, gonna be a long ride.

Int. Paper Mill



Andy: You film me firing the gun, he slumps down and we're quits.

Pat: Did you know he was lahfin' when he faked his heart attackhk? Eh-yeh!

Andy: PANT-PANT!

Pat: Grabbed the tablecloth... collapsed to the ground... Michael Fisher's car was outsiyde.

Andy: Whimper!

Pat: It clamped! It was clamped, and poor Michael had to wait.

Andy: I can't!



Pat: DO IT, ANDY! SAVE YOURSELF! KILL HIM!

Bang

Pat: Well dohne, Andy. Well dohne. Give-me-the-gun.

Andy: Manic glare! No!

Pat: Give me the gun, Andy!

Andy: No!

Pat: GIVE ME THE GUN!

Andy: Noooo!

Pat: Ahlraight-ahlraight, Cyalm down, cyalm down.

Pat takes the gun from Andy and aims it at him

Andy. No. Y-you can't do it, can you? You've done some terrible things, but I know you better than anyone. Well, I didn't know about you being a rapist. But underneath it all, you're a good man, Pat.

Pat: You dohwn't know me or the mush down in Shepherd's Bush, BUSH-BUSH-BUSH-BUSH

BANG

Pat: No income Pat. No Pee Ay Tee. No money back, no guarantee. Black or white, coffee poured. We'll cut prices at strooo-oooke. GAH BLEH CORRIE STREEEEEE'. VIVA CORRIE STREEEEE' LONG LIIIIIVE CORRIE STREE'. SAY COSTA COFFEE. CORRIE STREEEE'. COS-TA COF-FEE. CORRIE STREEEEEE'.

-

Jason David: That was grea', weren't it? That's all for today's edition of David Jason Presents: OFAH - the favourite classics. Until next tarme, bonjour.

End Music

Glebe

Hehe! Like Boycie as Vincent Price and Arnie as Leo Sayer!

DangledTeeth

#12
Quote from: Glebe on November 18, 2018, 11:53:38 AM
Hehe! Like Boycie as Vincent Price and Arnie as Leo Sayer!

Oh yeah, it looks like Leo Sayer, but it's actually Richard Simmons. I couldn't think of a good lookalike for Mike.

-



DJ: Del Boy of OFAH here, with a selection of not one, not two, but three MoF clips straigh' out of the archives. I shall start - unconventionallly - with number three. A more 'realistic' version of Yuppie Love

Int. Bistro

Del notices Trigger descending the stairs

Del: Trig! Over 'ere, mate.

Trigger: Alrigh', Del.

Del: Mustard. What are doin' 'ere, then?

Trigger: Mike's barred me for nicking his pork pies. I'm innocent, as I shall prove the opposite later on.

Del: Didn't you nick his fags from 'is machine which was mentioned in the episode Strained Relations?

Trigger: Yes I did. But that had nothin' to do with savouries, Del. I'm thinking of suing him for murd- sland- driving without a licen-

Del: Being an arse?

Trigger: Yeah.

Del: The ladies in our vicinity are very attractive. We ought to engage them in conversation.

Trigger: I'd deem it futile, Del. These women appear to be your Chelsea city slicker sorts who would solely be interested in a go-getter who has more stocks than a gravy factory. Furthermore, your cockney accent and working-class demeanour and vernacular would revolt them, as would my monotone, gormless diction. Let's imbibe a few more and call it a night.

Del: Yes... well evaluated, Trig. Let's pop back to the Nag's 'ead after these ones, I'll tug Mike's ear and convince 'im you didn't steal his pastries.

Trigger: Thank you, Del. You're a pal. Have a snack as a token of my gratitude.

Del: Cushty!

Barman: Mind the raised bar flap, sir.

Del: Oh, cheers. We'll be goin' soon.

A blonde woman plainly glances at Del

Del: That blonde woman briefly looked at me with a light smile.

Trigger: Might have been a sneer, or perhaps her mate said something funny.

Del: Yeah, forget 'er. I might have another shot at Raquel the Strippergram in a classic Xmas special this year.

-

DJ: No uproarious fall through the bar?! Next one is The Unlucky Winner Is.

Int. Nag's Head

Cassandra: It says 'turn to page 3'. What's that about?

Del: Oh er, I chu-ch- left it back at the flat. Load of jargon about baggage restrictions.

Rodney: Wai' a sec, Del. You sounded like you were preventing yourself from saying 'chucked'. Usually your little schemes or bits of good fortune result in my being tricked into doin' something humiliating. So out with it, Del. What did it say?

Del: Oh... alrigh', might as well cahm clean. I sent your paintin' Margin Asp at Door to a under 15-year-olds competition. The winner must be accompanied by their parents.

Rodney: So you and Cass would have had to act as mum and dad, while I'd fool them into thinking I'm fawtayn. I suspect their holiday package encourages the sprog to participate in a variety of activities, which I'd have to be part of.

Del: W'yeah, I think they would. Thinking about it, I'm sure we could insist on having you remain with us for the 'oliday. After all, we'd be your parents. Our decision.

Rodney: I'm not doin' it, Del. I can't do something so fraudulent. It would be immoral, it would be illegal.

Del: Alrigh', you've made yer point.

Cassandra: It's a hare-brained idea. I'm off to the toilet, Rodney. No need to hug me goodbye.

Cassandra exits to the toilets

Rodney: I'm relieved she's gone for a sec. I've been tryna buy condoms, but it's quite hard to purchase them. Short-arses are usually relatively successful at obtaining them - can you buy them for me?

Del: Wha'?! On your bus! You're gonna have to man up and buy them yourself, son. I'm off to the bar.

Cassandra comes back

Rodney: Cass, we are pretty close in terms of romance, no need to shift your chair. I was thinking there could come a time when... two turn into three.

Cassandra: Okay, I'm up for a bit of intercourse, Roddy.

Rodney: Lecherous arch of my lip. YYYYEAH?

Cassandra: You haven't been tellin' Del about being apprehensive for when you attempted to buy a packet of condoms from a chemist?

Rodney: Naaaoh, I wouldn't talk about something as priva-

Del: Rodney, you're in luck. Mike's got a cock sock machine fitted in the shitter.

Mike: I'll get you some change, Rodney. Ribbed strawberry is good value for money.

-

David MBE: Quite adult in nature and not ideal for family viewing, but a more pithy take on the classic, mind. Thissss episode is one of my favourites, - along with Jolly Boys' Outing and the Educational Short About an Oil Rig - and that episode is Thicker than Water. Quite a pivotal episode in retrospect. Watch the clip an' you'll know what I'm alluding to...

Int. Trotters' Flat



Reg: I had a look at yer letters and I thawt ''ello! That's farny. Different blood groups?!'. So I checked yer Grandad's army records, and what did I find? WE'VE GOT A LAAONE RANGAAH IN THE FAM'LY!!!! I'd like to know who the hell Toto was.

Grandad: The dog in the Wizard of Oz.

Reg: Oh yeah, that's the cahnt. Thank you, Dad. (To Del) If yaw mavva was alive, I'd foot her in the fizzog.

Del attempts to hone in on Reg, but is restrained by Grandad and Rodney

Reg: Now try to see it from my point of view, Del Boy - wag of my finger - how would you feel about the 'son' you left when he was an infant to then find out he wasn't yours.

Rodney: Infant?! Faww-waaah?! Del was about sixteen years old when you stormed off.

Reg: I dunno why you're bringin' Del Boy into this, Rodney. YOU'RE the mystery.

Rodney: Wh-wha'?! Is this traoh?

Del and Grandad appear sheepish

Grandad: Yes, Rodney. But it don't change anythin'.

Rodney: Who's my dad, then?

Del: His name was... Frederick Robdall. Confident blaoke; gen'leman criminal; loved his fine art - sounds like me. Looked like you, Rodders, except with
a moustache.

Reg: Aoooh, Freddie! Yes, I remember that sneaky fucker. Sao it was 'im that shagged my old Joan. Doesn't surprise me.

Del: What are you tryna say, Reginald?!

Reg: No, no, you misunderstand me, Del. I'm not saying anything disrespectful about your whore of a mother...

Audience: UH-HAH-HUH-HAH-HAH!

Reg: ...I'm ahnly sayin' that it doesn't surprise me on accahnt of that Freddy blaoke being a bit of a charmer.

Del: Well, now Rodney knows the truth. I expect Sleepless in Peckham will still be shit.

Marlene: Yes, the side-story about my improved tits has got nothing to do with the identity of Rodney's father, so that unfunny segment will remain.

Trigger: The Jolly Boys' Outing photo and cemetery scenes will be pointless. But as I am not the biological father of Dave, I will inevitably gaze at the night-time lights and blink, which'll cause me to believe I was observing a UFO.

Del: Well er, why don't U Fuck Off, Trig and Marlene. You ain't in this episode. Stone me!!!!

Audience: Ruh-huh-hah-hah!

Del: I wen' to see Dr Becker this mornin'.

Reginald: You couldn't have done, you were waitin' for your test results to drop through the letterbox.

Del: Oh yeah! Let's imagine I did...

Reg: Why? What's wrong with you, Del Boy?

Del: I've been sufferring from this Reginald in the arse. He said it doesn't matter what your blood group is. And he 'ad a look at your records on a computer and rang Newcastle Infirmary. What do you think they said, Rodney?

Rodney: They never 'eard of him. I'm Claire Voyeur-Ant.

De: But they had a porter called Trotter. Made off with the gynecologist's Lambretta - is that a moped thing or a brand of alcoholic drinks?

Reg: Lambretta is a motor scooter.

Del: Uh know thaa-aaht. I meant the other one.

Rodney: It's a doctor who gives women's flanges a check-up.

Del: Oh, well, that's appropriate, (Nods at Reg) 'cause I'm lookin' at a cunt right now

Audience: RRRRRAAH-HAH-HAH-HOH-HAH!

Del: Dr Becker suggested to get some exercise, vacate Trotter's Towers. Long. Brissssk. Wawalk.

Reg: Is that the tarme?! I really mahst be on mah way. Kimasabe. Oh and er... Mirry Christmus.

Del: Let me squash a wad of money in your breast pocket.

Reg exits to the bedroom to collect his belongings

Grandad: Del Boyyyy, I've burnt yer scotch pizza.

Del: Grandad's naused up the dinner. Back to 'ow it usually is. Lovely Jubbly!

-

David Jason Sir: Thanks for watching. More repeats of OFAH until 9pm again. Bonjour.

Glebe



SIR JASON: Hello, David 'The' Jason back here again on the Gold, with another favourite, this time from a completely different episode, called 'We're So Sorry, Uncle Albert!' This episode was interesting, because it was Buster's debut appearance and he was understandably very nervous. So I told the cameraman to switch the camera off, and told Buster to pause for the audience laughter after each and every line. After that, he was a great actor! So without further ado, here's another one of my classic moments... on the Gold!

INT.HULL BOAT.EVENING

DEL, RACHEL and ALBERT have gone out on the boat from 'To Hull and Back', in order to calm ALBERT's nerves after he got a black eye.

RACHEL?!/RAQUEL: Are you feeling a bit better now, Albert?

ALBERT: Yes fanx, lav.

DEL: Actually Albert, Rodney suggested to me early that it is no good being soft on you. So you better catch us them fish fingers or you're aht!

ALBERT (sadly): I understand, san.

AUDIENCE: AAAAAHHHHH.

ALBERT: It's just that ever since I got Knock-Knock'd, me nerves is all a-jumble. Durin' the woar...

DEL: Oh here we fucking go again with the war and fighting and the oyyyyy...

IRAQ: Hear him out, Derek. Hear him out.

ALBERT: Durin' the woah, I was on the comically-named HMS Cod with that Northern Irish guy. I had just helped repopulate a village in France, when we were called out to the Pacific to help represent Paddy's Day. But we fell in the water, and then the sharks started circling. Sharks, don't talk to me about sharks. Shark goes in the water, cage goes in the water, sticklebacks are in the water.. to pass the time, we opened sam cafees... 'docker's mansions' we called 'em! We managed to survive by eating barnarnas from Jamaica... by the time we were found, I could swear in six languages!

DEL: Woi dan yoo cam back home... to y'fambily?

ALBERT: Jas let me finish me story first, san. Anyway, shark's got black eyes, like a propane-filled sex doll's eyes... they were rough sharks, but they were good sharks... we put up a sign, 'You can eat our legs... but not our 'earts'.... then wan day, we fand a shark the soize of a stickleback... anyway, the moral of the story is, sam men can't be bargained wiv... they carn't be begged, borrowed or reasoned wiv.

RACHEL: But what did you do about the sharks?

ALBERT: We burned the sea down.

SLATER (popping into the cabin): I've brought a six pack, let's have a sing-song! (singing) Show me the way to go home, bum-bum-bum, I'm tired an' I wanna go to bed... with my wife, Rachel.

ALBERT: 'oos Rachel?!


DangledTeeth

Ha ha, Churchill and Albert's story.

--



DJ: Oh... didn't see you there. Is the camera on? Nice. Like my new look? Thought I'd shove a few pillows up my jumper. There's a ten-minute gap between programmes, so I'm here to give you a bit of entertainment until the next scheduled programme. This one is an alternate scene for Tea for Three, which is known to the production staff as 'Hang Around for the Greatest Story Ever Told'. Gold Exclusive!

Int. Trotters' Flat - Lounge

Del: I've got some poncy shit for dinner. And you, Rodney? What is your contribution?

Rodney: Chays.

Del: Cheeeese?! Good job I bough' some top notch grub to astound Lisa before she gets married to that Timothy Dalton lookalike.

Albert: Listen, boys, this seems kinda familiar, sao get yerselfs camftable an' 'ear a little story from your Uncah Lahbert.

Del: Yeah, make it quick. She'll be here in a coupla 'ours.

Albert: Durin-thuh-wawah - or jast befaw it star'ed - the vast majority of the world's cahnchries, including all the great powers, eventually fawmed two opposing military alliances: the Allies and the Axis. A state of total war emerged, directly involving more than 100 million people from over 30 cahntries. The major participants threw their entire economic, indahstrial, and scientific capabili'ies behind the war effort, blurring the distinction between civilian and mili'ary resources. Yah. World War II was the deadliest conflict in human 'istory, marked by 50 to 85 million fatalities, most of whom were civilians in the Saoviet Union and Choyna. (Albert pulls a sour face) It included massacres, the genocide of the 'olocaust, strategic bombing, premedita'ed death from starvation and disease, and the only use of nuclear weapons in war.

Del: Uh, you need all thaa-aaht, don't yer..

Albert: Japan, which aimed to domina'e Asia and the Pacific, was at war with China by 1937, though neither side had declared war on the other. World War II is generally said to 'ave begun on 1 September 1939, with the invasion of Poland by Germany and subsequent declarations on Germany by France and the Uni'ed Kingdom. From late 1939 to early 1941, in a series of campaigns and trea'ies, Germany conquered or controlled much of continental Europe, and formed the Axis alliance with I'aly and Japan. Under the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact of August 1939, Germany and the Soviet Union partitioned and annexed territories of their European neighbours, Poland, Finland, Romania and the Bal'ic states. Yah. Following the onset of campaigns in North Africah and East Africah, and the fall of France in mid 1940, the war continued primarily between the European Axis powers and the Bri'ish Empire. War in the Balkans, the aerial Battle of Bri'ain, the Blitz, and the long Bah-ol of the Atlan'ic followed. On 22 June 1941, the European Axis powers launched an invasion of the Sovie' Union, opening the largest land theatre of war in 'istory. This Eastern Front trapped the Axis, most crucially the German Wehrmacht, into a war of attrition. Yah. In December 1941, Japan launched a surprise attack on the Uni'ed Sta'es and European colonies in the Pacific Aocean. Following an immediate U.S. declaration of war against Japan, suppor'ed by one from Grea' Bri'ain, the European Axis powers quickly declared war on the U.S. in solidari'y with their Japanese ally. Yah. Rapid Japanese conquests over much of the Western Pacific ensued, perceived by many in Asia as liberation from Western dominance and resul'ing in the suppaw' of several armies from defeated territories.

Rodney: Cosmic.

Albert: The Axis advance in the Pacific halted in 1942 when Jehpan lost the cri'ical Battle of Midway; later, Germany and I'aly were defeated in Norf Africah and then, decisively, at Stalingrad in the Soviet Union. Key setbacks in 1943, which included a series of German defeats on the Eastern Front, the Allied invasions of Sicily and I'aly, and Allied victories in the Pacific, cost the Axis its initiative and forced it into strategic retreat on all fronts. (Albert wags his head) In 1944, the Western Allies invaded German-occupied France, while the Sovie' Union regained its territorial losses and turned toward Germany and its allies. During 1944 and 1945 the Japanese suffered major reverses in mainland Asia in South Central China and Burma, while the Allies crippled the Japanese Navy and captured key Western Pacific islands. The war in Europe concluded with an invasion of Germany by the Western Allies and the Sovie' Union, culmina'ing in the capture of Berlin by Sovie' troops, the suicide of A-dolf 'itlah and the German unconditional surrendagh on 8 May 1945. Followin' the Potsdam Declaration by the Allies on 26 July 1945 and the refusal of Japan to surrendagh under its terms, the United States dropped atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki on 6 and 9 August respectively. With an invasion of the Japanese archipelago imminent, the possibility of additional atomic bombings, and the Soviet invasion of Manchuria and occupation of the Kuril islands in norvon Japan, the Empire finally surrendered on 2 September 1945, cemen'ing to'al victory in Asia for the Allies. Tribunals were set up by fia' by the Allies and war crimes trials were condahcted in the wake of the war both against the Germans and the Japanese.

Del: Wha' are they like.

Albert: World War II changed the political alignment and social structure of the globe. The Uni'ed Nations (UN) was established to foster in'ernational co-operation and prevent future conflicts; the victorious great powers—China, France, the Sovie' Union, the Uni'ed Kingdom, and the Uni'ed States—became the permanent members of its Security Council. The Soviet Union and United States emerged as rival superpowers, setting the stage for the nearly half-century long Cold War. In the wake of European devastation, the influence of its great powers waned, triggering the decolonisation of Africa and Asiah. Most countries whose industries had been damaged moved towards economic recovery and expansion. Poli'ical in'egration, especially in Europe, emerged as an effort to end pre-war enmities and crea'e a common iden'ity.

Del and Rodney have fallen asleep

Albert: After the wawah me an' yer Grandad 'ad a darnce wiv Ginger Rogers, baht we couldn't cahm to a decision over who'd take 'er 'ome, then we star'ed figh'ing in the streets - baht no' in the trenches. Ar'm concerned 'istory's gonna repea' itself.  I don't ever wan' you two boys to figh' over Lisa. Del? Rodney?



Del and Rodney: SNORE!!!!

Albert: Fahking kids!

David Janos: That's ten minutes up. Enjoy the next programme, more than likely OFAH again.

Glebe



DAVID: Hello everyone, David Jason here, back having yet another moment. This time, however, it's from a completely different episode, namely the one called 'Uncle Albert goes to Tobacco Road'. This one in particular sticks in my craw, as it features one of m'favourite pieces of dialog, the now-infamous 'Uncle Albert Speech', where Rodney explains why we must be tough on Albert in order to help him over being bashed by Knock Knock. Buster is in fine form, although it took many takes for him to do his Tobacco Road spiel properly. I called a for a break at one point, and took him aside. Over a cuppa in the BBC canteen, I explained to him in plain English that I would give him half of my Kit-Kat if he would just calm down and get on with it. It was a large Kit-Kat too, mind, so it was like he was getting a full two-fingered one off David Jason, absolutely free. He went out and did the scene without a hitch, although I have to say, in my hunger I finished off the delicious chocolate treat myself!

And so, without further ado...

INT.LOUNGE.MORNING.

DEL and RODNEY are having breakfast when RAQUEL appears, looking fraught.

RAQUEL: Del, Albert's not in his room! And he left this note... "Dear Del, I will not bother you any longer as I am too frightened to go and get them fish fingers. Your loving uncle, Albert." You better find him, Trotter, or I will leave you and get back together with Slater!

DEL: SLATER! Come on Rodney, lets 'av a butchers round the London landmarks, to the theme of Paul McCartney's 'Uncle Albert'!

ROD: I'll take the classic three-wheeler, you take the fucking prat's mobile.

DEL: Right - you wot? Cheeky sod, heh!

EXT.NELSON MANDELA HOUSE.MORNING.

DEL: Now Rodney, I'll head straight down to Tobacco Road, you head for Tower Brid-look! It's Albert!

ALBERT: Wot you two doin' 'ere?

ROD: We've been looking all over for you, for about, er, ten seconds.

DEL: We was worried about yah, y'saucy old goat. And here we find you... er, right outside the door!

ALBERT: I was on me way to Tobaccah Road, honest I was, Del, but then I realised how many memories I have of this place, Nelson Mandeler Towers-

DEL: -House.

ALBERT: -Nelson Mandeler's Houses. I was finking abaht all the adventures we'd had these last foo years... oi didn't knaw wether oi was caming or going!

DEL: Woi dahn't yah cam 'ome. To y'fambily.

ALBERT: Thanks, san. I lav that line! D'y'know, there's a lot of barnarnas round 'ere... so many memories... by the toime I cam back from the sea, I could swear in fifty languages! When this block of flats was first built, they called it a 'docker's mansion'! Raggamuffins used to kick balls against it... and I used to fink that the rainbow lived in the rivah!

DEL: You was a fucking divvy back then an' all.

ROD: Haha yeah oi no not good.

DEL: My sincerest apologies, uncle.

ALBERT: We put up a sign... it said 'Nelson Mandela's House!' Nah look wot they dan to it.

DEL: Triffic!

ROD: IT IS PONCEY!

DEL: They say Eric Clapton owns wan a dem drums.

ROD: Anyway, unc, you better cam back upstairs wiv as. Wiv y'fambily.

DEL: Although you'd better pop across the way and get them fish fingers first if you dan wanna go 'ungry tonight!

They all laugh!


DangledTeeth



Dason Javid MBEs: Hello Only Fools fans, daon't be worried about me appearance, it's just special effects an' make-up off the Beetlejuice film. Here's another of my trilogy of MoF Fools. Number 3: A Slow Bus to Chingford

Int. Trotters' Flat

Rodney: Get yer tits out, Janice. I want to get sexual.

Del: Put 'im daown, Janice. His bondage gear is in the washing machine or sammink.

Janice sneaks out

Rodney: Oh cuntsmic, Del! Janice believes I am a pervo, and now she won't go out with me no more.

Del: In a way, you are correct, Rodney. I'm gonna take 'er aht on your be'alf.

Rodney: Why?

Del: 'cause you've been employed as a guard for my new en'erprise *reveals uniform* da-naah! Trotter Watch.

Rodney: Derek, that is in fact a traffic warden's uniform. You've assigned the name Trotter Watch as each initial is the same as 'traffic warden'.

Del: Alrigh', so you've got a job guarding a bahs at nigh'. See, we get to use the bus on loan for your vigilance. I've come up wiv this othah scheme
called Trotters' Ethnic Tours.

Rodney:  'ang on a second, Del. This TET, who's driving the bus?

Del: Well... we are, specifically you.

Rodney: No, neither of us have a Public Service License. Alan Parry says you need one in order to legally drive a bus or coach.

Grandad: Who's Alan Parry?

Rodney & Del: SHUT UP, ALBE- GRANDAD.

Rodney: Future father-in-law, looks kind of like the Oxo Dad.

Grandad: Stoopid idea. Knowing how sneaky and lazy I am, I'd pile up any promotional things into the estate's bins.

Del: Alright, forget thaa-aat loada bollocks. Let's go and flog these traffic warden pyjamas

--

Jason David: Nice reference to Jolly Boys' Outing. And next: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Ext. Park

Rodney: Del, I hate to embarrass you in front of this upper class bit of skirt you've doubtless attempted to impress with your usual deceit, I don't wanna
alarm you or nothin', but I think the dog is fucked.

Del (To Woman): The availability of reliable assistance has gone for a kermit, mate.

Del and Rodney rush to the rear of the van

Del: Generalised impersonation of a cat.

Rodney: He's not moving.

Del: He's breathing, you plonkercock. How can you not spo' that. You're the wan wiv the GCEs.

Rodney: In Maths and Art. But I ain't got a GCE in Great Dane.

Del: That isn't quite the correct line, but funny all the same.

Rodney: Maybe he's doesn't have enough energy. Does he have vitamin pills?

Del: Yeah, I've got a vial right 'ere.

Del reveals a small container of tablets

Rodney: Looks like Albert's sleeping pills.

Del: Fromage a la cunt! Dukey's been gobbling ahp the sleepin' tablets.

Rodney: It seems likely he has, but let's take him to the vet to be on the safe side. Shall I retrieve his playing balls?

Del: Do not grasp his testicles, Rodney. That wouldn't be a clever manoeuvre.

Albert: I'm no' sappost to be 'ere, baht ar'll say this anyway, sahn: raoast bleedin' pawk!

Del & Rodney: SHUT UP, ALBERT. HERE, BOY!

--

Delvid Jason: A straight-up take on a classic. An' finally: Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

Int. Nag's Head

Boycie is seated with a chubby Aussie

Del: I daon't buhlieve ih! Jahm-boh Meels the man who isn't actually Australian and bought a car off me five yeehs agaoh, who let you back into Blightly, you tart?!

Jumbo: Tawk abawt a bad penny, how ya dowin', Del, maite?

Del: Mastard. I'll just nick Boycie's pota'ah.

Rodney enters

Del: You'll never guess who this is Jumbo?

Jumbo: Croikey! You've aged terribly, Rodney.

Albert: Ar'm no' Rodney! I've cahm into this a bit too early.

Rodney: I'm Rodney.

Trigger: I make no appearance in this, but alright, Dave?

Jumbo: Gonna adjust my wig in the toilets.

Rodney: You paid someone to put a wig on yer 'ead!?

Albert: That's a hell of a wig-parting, sahn.

Jumbo: Del, gotta discass a potential series-ending business proposition with ya later, maite. Meet here at 8. No camera. Jast cut back to the flat.

Int. Trotters' Flat

Del: I wawz waokin' dahn tha rawud, aw samfin'... get it straigh', Oy'm an Aussie, maite. And you've got a lot of front. The beer is shit, you pommie git, and you're a fuckin' cu- Albert.

Albert: Wrong episode an rela'ive, sahn. Thanks for the wad of cash.

Del: We're ganna Australia. Rodney, you will be a car cleaner. And Albert?

Albert: Ar ain't gaahn. I spent most of the wawah in a storage depot on the Isle of Wight, and in the little time I had commandeering a vessel I ended ahp puh'ing Sid in a PoW camp. Ar 'oped ar'd end me days 'ere.

Del: I concur. But not in the way you think.

Rodney: Let's get the appropriate documentation first.

Int. Flat - A few days later?

Rodney: They didn't accept me. I was done for drugs, but it didn't detail anything about smokin' a bifta with a Chinese woman.

Del: That's balanced things aht. I wasn't accepted. My criminal record is worse than yours. I mean, I've been wheelin' an' dealin' without a license for almost 20 years. I've been caught and got into legal scrapes before. Do you think Australia would wan' a dubiously self-employed dodgy cunt like me over there sellin' defect gas barbeques or something stereotypical?!

Albert: Listen, boys, ar've only been in two series up until nar. I know it's not my business.

Rodney: 100% accurate, Albert! Needlessly blunt! In the kitchen you go.

Albert: Ar'll make sahm taoast, sahn.

Albert exits to the kitchen

Del (On Phone): Jumbo? You should have a telephone in the shitter. Rodney ain't coming... me? No, neither will I. Bonjour.

Albert enters with a peachy smile and toast crumbs in his beard

Del: Who vonts to beeee a milyonnaaaiire. (Silently) I do.

Del goes to turn the light switch off

Rodney: Del! It's daytime in this version, you've put the light on.

Del: Bonnet de plonquer! Two more series and several Xmas specials coming ahp.

--

David David MBE Sir Jason OBE: And that's all for this morning, af'noon or evenin', dunno when you're watching this. Bonjourevoir.

Glebe



SIR DAVID: Hello, Dave Jasons here, welcoming you to 'annovah' of my favourites! Each episode had a nasty sting in the tale, and this moment quite literally ends with a twist - a twist of Rodney's arm, that is! It's from crap special 'A Royal Flush', where I ruin Rod's chances with a posh bird and then harm him at the end! Here's the scene!

INT.LOUNGE.LATE

RODNEY: I whacked me 'and in anger!

DEL: Aw no, brov! Anyway, Duke Mulberry tossed me a few bunce to get you away from his daughter!

ROD: YOU WOT?!? Oh Derek, vis is samming else!

DEL: Put it there pal, no hard feelings!

RODNEY takes the diplomatic option, and unwisely shakes hands with DEL, who grabs his broken hand tightly and wrenches his arm clean off.

DEL: Wot are yah? Eh?! Wot are yah?

ROD: Arghhh fack me!

There is NO audience laughter track.

Memorable closing theme!



"I'll give you this priceless watch if you make Rodney not marry my daughter!"
This deleted moment almost changed OFAH lore!

DangledTeeth

#18


John Challis: Aow, hello. Boycie hyar. David 'Del Boy' Jason has gone off to sign au'ographs on an airfield. He'll be back saoon. He left me an instruction to presen' a splendid littowl episode faw youuuu. It's an unusual matter-of-fact take on the classic episode 'The Longest Night'. HA-AGH-EGH-EGH-AGH-EGH-AGH-EGH!

Int. Supermarket

Del: Let's get this shopping 'ome without a receipt.

Ext. Supermarket

The Trotters are halted by the Head of Security

Tom: Excuse me, gents, would you like to accompany me to the manager's office to provide us with an alibi for a staged robbery.

Del: Why?

Rodney nods at a '£1,000 for the Millionth Customer' poster

Del: OhHHhHh! Lead on, McDougal.

Int. Manager's Office

Manager: Trouble, Tom?

Tom: Caught these thievebags nickin' the non-descript valuables. They came along quietly - usually a sign of guilt.

Del: We came along 'cause we thought we'd wan the milyunth castomer thing.

Manager: Oh come on, sir. We don't have an elaborate scanning system that registers the total of people who saunter in to here, nor do our employees estimate how many people enter.

Del: Ah, righ'. Baht we 'aven't staolen anything. Present the receipt, Rodney.

Rodney: I ain't got it. Albert?

Albert: I nevah saw it, sahn.

Del: Dipstick, Rodney! Thissiz awl yaw fault!

Tom: Actually, it's not. I dragged you all up here.

Rodney: Why don't we go down to the woman on the till and ask if she remembahs ahs at leyst.

Del: Good idea, Rodders. You're a diamond.

Int. Supermarket - Till

Del: 'scuse me, darlin', you put our shoppin' through not too long ago. You remember us?

Till Woman: Ohhh yeah, how could I forget ladder legs, Father Xmas and pig-nosed short-arse.

Del: Yeah, heh-hah-hah (double-take) you saucy caow!

Rodney: Do you still have the receipt?

Till Woman: Ermmmm... I've got a few discarded ones here. Hang on...

Del: Look out for a baguette prin'ed on one, can't get more pacific than thaa-aat

Till Woman: Oh yeah! Here it is.

Del studies the receipt then pulls a smug rictus at Tom as Del holds up the receipt

Del: If you don't mind, son. You're in the way.

Tom: Er, well, I suppose you're innocent. Off you go. I'll have to find other witnesses for our criminal scheme.

Rodney: Wai' a sec, Del. Sammink ain't righ'

Albert: Yeah!

Del: I 'conquer', Rodney. (Squints with suspicion) There's definitely somethin' ahp... (Del flaps the receipt) I mean, this set of yoghurt pots was sappost to be part of a buy wan get wan free offer, an' we've been charged for two.

Till Woman: Oh, terribly sorry, sir. Here's your pound back.

Del: Cheers.

Rodney: No, no, I mean' there's somethin' questionable about being casually accused of shoplifting.

Del: Uh yeaaaah, come to think of it, that Basil Fawl'y lookalike did seem relatively at ease about the whole misunderstanding. Divvy git. I'm gonna have a word wiv 'im.

The Trotters speed off towards the office

Lennox goes on a flagrant robbing spree

Lennox: Put that on my accahnt. You take care naow.

Tom hones in on Lennox

Tom: Come with me, sirshine.

Lennox: Memory banks. I mean blanks. Hee-hah, this actin' lark is fun.

Tom: Shhhh.

Int. Manager's Office

Del: ...and that's whoy I dan't understand wha' this is all abo-



Lennox: Open ahp the safe! (To Del) This-is-all-contrived-but-who-cares. There's money in that safe - loads of it. I'm a real 'ard naht; master of disguise; meticulous planning went into this yet I forgot my getaway car; I've never had anythin' go wro-

Manager: Ay'm uhfraid the lawk mechanism has been activated by a timer.

Lennox: When'd it start? According to my knock-off watch purchased at a local market it's quar'er past four.

Manager: 6pm.

Lennox: Fuckin' unreliable timepiece!

Rodney: You are to blame, Del.



Lennox: Don't I know you from sahmwhere?

Del: Del Trotter doesn't go out, do I, Rodney?

Rodney: Yet here you are.

Lennox: I'm like Captain Scarlet's pimple. They seek him 'ere, they seek 'im there. Those Mysterons seek him everywhere. Is he on Earth or 'is he on Mars? That damn, elusive Leh-egh-nuhks.

Del: Fuckin' triffic, thaa-aat. You ooze credibili'y, son.

Tom: We're here all night until the safe unlocks at 8am. When I was in Kenya I learned how to condition my body to go without sleep. We had trouble with the Mau Mau.

Albert: Rodney probably thinks Mau Mau is a Kentahcky Froied Chicken.

Rodney: I ain't got a GCE in Geography, History or KFC, but they taught as about the Mau Mau in school. Mouthy! Mau Mauthy!

Tom: You are lightly covered in war decor, Albert

Albert: I was stationed aht in Africah. I saw things that'll make your nahts itch. Shahwks! Dan't tawk to me abar' shaaaarks. They are large an' menacin' like you'd expect 'em to be, pal.

Del: Yeah, he thought Jaws from James Bond was a stickle brick.

Lennox: I know precisely who you are nah. Don't-tell-me. Bell! No! Augustus! 'ang about. Del... Del Trotter. Dan't you re'ognise me?

Del: You're the master of disguise, son.

Lennox: You used to sell dodgy shit on the weekly to Roseanna Gilbey, West Indian lady.

Del: Naaohw! You're noh... little Lennox Gilbey. I daon't buhlieve ih! Oh, whatcha bin doin' with yourself, safe cracker?

Lennox: Well, I bumped into Basil over there in court and we devised a plan to rob the safe and split it three ways. I've never done anything like this before. I ain't 'ad a job in six years, Del. I have no future prospects.

Del: You and Rodney have a lot in common, Lennox. But it don't give you the right to point a fluorescent pink water pistol at people.

Tom: You woulda been here on time if you hadn't bought an ineffective bit of ticking tat

Del: Dixons of the High Street is involved. Thissss hass been warryin' me these passst 6 minutess or ssso. Sibilance. How did Lennox know the safe had a lot of money?! A fffff- few fuckin' minutes spent out of 14 potential hours just to provide you with a lullaby.

Tom: Yes, and I did it for the money. Pension is inadequate.

Manager: My wife is a materialistic trollop. The obese voracious cunt!

Del: No 'arm's bin dahne. Give Lennox a job. Old Tom or Old Bill?

Manager: Welcome to Supermarket Ltd, Lennox.

Tom: Uniform tomorrow.

Baguette: BONK-BIBBY-BOMBOM-DINK-DONK

Del: Hard already?! Only bought it about 20 minutes ago.

Rodney: Aoh! I didn't get to do the scene where I grab Lennox's fags.

Albert keels over in amateur fashion

Albert: EEUUUURK!

Albert gets up as everyone casually whistles

Del: Mr Peterson - never fahnd at yer name but yeah - I'm gonna cahm back here tomorra mornin', 'cause I sense I'm gonna be your one milyunth castomer.

Manager: Feeling.

Del: You know it makes sense. (Reaches into his shopping bag) bourbons!

End Theme

--

John Challis: Thank you for watching. Goodnight.

Glebe

CLASSIC EPISODE: DEL FLOGS A BABY!

Theme tune!

INT.NAG'S 'EAD.CHUCKING OUT TIME

MIKE: Cam on people, it's chucking out time!

DEL: 'ere, Moike, 'oos dah foreign bird?

MIKE: Danno, but I think she's one of them krauts.

DEL: Can yoo speak the lingo, Albert?

ALBERT: Nien, but I'll give it a go, Del. Vorsprung durch technik, lav!

DEL: 'ere, vatz moi loine!

ANNA: Oh, you speak English here in England? The name of my character is Anna!

DEL: We're orf Rodders, yoo sort it aht!

ROD: Oh no, she is up the duff!



INT.LOUNGE.LATER

DEL and ALBERT are chillaxin' when in cam RODDERS and ANNA!

ROD: Del, Del, look! Anna is preggers and coming to stay wiv us!

DEL: Wod 'appened?!

ANNA: Family I am au pair too, their son, Spencer Tracy, tub me!

DEL: Hmmm, there moight be a noice littul earner in vis!



INT.BOYCIE'S HOUSE.DAY

MARLENE: So you can illegally sell us a baby, Del?

DEL: Yes, Marlene! Scout's honah!

RODNEY runs in from the garden, having been viciously mauled by Duke.

ROD: 'es a lad, inne? Anyway, how cam yoo carn't adopt legal like, Boycie?

BOYCIE: I goh a few little records... treason, arson, grand larceny and attempting to imbibe an old mare in Lambeth!

ROD: Yoo gonna earn outta this, incha, Del?

DEL: Nah... just wont enaff for petrol, phone and sundries... FREE-FUCKING-GRAND shad cavar it!

INT.LOUNGE.LATERZ

DEL: Gotcha, y'martian git!

ALBERT: Yoo playin' Space Invaders on the compootah, Del?

DEL: Nah, just shot a alien on the balcony!

ROD: What the dickens! Selling a baby is like samming outta Dickensian Dickens' toimes! You jast care abaht y'self!

DEL: Au contraire, mon frere! I'm ganna give a bitta bance so she can go back to the favverland wiv three-handrad grandmas in a big-bag!

ANNA: Ooooh, Del! Baby is coming!

DEL: Quick, Rodney! Have a cappa water and take deep brefs! Albert, comically fail to phone the maternity unit!

ANNA: Danke schön, Del! I need a laugh at the moment!

DEL: Four-sprung Dutch techniques, Anna!

INT.LOUNGE.LATER

MARLENE: This is a great game of musical chairs, Del, but I'm not very good at it!

BOYCIE: Sit down, Marlene!

DEL: Heh! Oh, there's the door!

It is RODNEY, ALBERT and ANNA with her BABY, natch!

ANNA: Del, I think it is not cushy!

DEL: Jubblybums.

ROD: Gotta tell yar samming abahrt viz baby, Del!

DEL: There's no time!

ANNA sees MARLENE and BOYCIE and legs it into the bedroom-area place, crying.

BOYCIE: Wazzap wiv 'er?

DEL: Nah, it's jast baby-boos, that's all.

ALBERT: Oi wander wot it's name is? 'ere, baby, VOT IZ YOOR NAM?!

BOYCIE: Well Del... what is it?

DEL: It's a littul baby, Boycie!

BOYCIE: I know thaught, everybody knows thaught, but is it a white male child?

MARLENE: No Boycie, it is a half-darkie girl one.

ROD: I troid to tell yer, Del. Frank Spencer's parents cam over from Western India in the noineteen-fifties, takin' our jobs!

MARLENE: Well oi dan mind, Boyce!

BOYCE: Gordon bleedin' Bennett, Marlene, leave it be! I might be able to sell death-trap cars, I might be able pretend my favver was the famous American trumpeter Louis 'Satchmo' Armstrong, but how the flippin' 'eck am I gonna convince 'em that you conceived of all this in a mere week! Yoo ain't heard the larst, Del! Cam on, Marlene!

MARLENE: Lovely dream while it lasted! I'm gunna walk out now and I ain't nevah camin' back!

DEL: That's... that's it, Marlene, you know it makes sense! Aw, look Rodney, laverly littul baby... coochie-coo... coochie... HEURGH!!! Here Anna, y'babies pukin'!

Behind them, ALBERT is backing out of the bedroom kinda bit, with his hands in the air. ANNA follows, holding a rifle!

ANNA: Hold it right there, English swine! HANDS UP!

ROD and DEL stick their hands up in the air!

ALBERT: She's a German spy, lads!

ANNA: Albert vos part of a troop wot kilt meine grantfavver back in unt favverlant, 'durin' the woah'! Now it is how you say 'payback time'!

DEL: Aw fack me. Yoor not ganna kill az here, are yah, Anna?!

ANNA: Nien. I am going to take you down to Grandad's allotment! MOVE!

ALBERT: Vis remoinds me of dat filum... Anna Get Your Gun, heurgh!

ROD: Shat app Albur'.



EXT.GRANDAD'S ALLOTMENT.LATER

ANNA: Any last requests?

DEL: Yeah, can we offer yah the Peckham Spring in exchange for our loives?

ANNA: I do not fall for this, I see the hose!

ROD: Oh this is samming else!

ALBERT: Durin' dah woah-

RIFLE: BANG! BANG! BANG!

THE END!

Closing theme!


DangledTeeth

#20
A great episode above.




John Challis: Oh! There you are. Yes, Oi am still he-yar. David is on his way in the yellow TIT copter. I've got a spare few minutes until he arrives. Until then, enjoy this matter-of-fact version of another classic: Hole in One.

Ext. Street

Albert: The *BOOAB* shop won't let us orf. Cultural differences

Rodney: I think not, Albert. We owe them money.

Albert: Del won't be pleased with your selection from the auction. Did you not learn anythin' after buying thaose lawnmowah injines?

Rodney: Oi, 'ow'd you know about that?! You weren't around then.

Albert: Del taold me.

Del enters from the bedroom hallway

Del: Mornin', Unc.

Albert: Mawnin', sahn. The *BOOAB* banned us from ea'ing breakfast or sammink.

Del: Stone me! First minute into the episode and there's been two uses of '*BOOAB*'. Three now! There's a spot of censoring to be done in politically correct, loony left Millennial Bri'ain.

Del glares at Rodney

Del: What's the weather like out, Albert? Icy pavements?

Albert: Yah. Qui'e caold aht there, sahn. Caold like the tea with the vol-au-vents in Strained Relations.

Del: Oh, well that's alrigh'. Rodney has GCEs in Maths and Art, but sometimes I suspect he got an A* in Prannying Wallycunt! The weather isn't what you'd classify as balmy or coolly ideal, certainly wouldn't put yer bikini on in a hurry, no... but thissss stickdip only purchased a consignment of fuckin' sun taaaan lotion with a nice northerly wind to dry it in.

Rodney: Investment. Something that'll come in handy on a rainy day, figuratively speaking.

Del: Investment?! Are you Jubbly well being ironic? The weathermen are advising everyone to dress like eskimos. In ather words, winter is on the horizon. You spen' precious cash on a load of insignifican' shit - and you're the accahntant!

Rodney: I am a plonker.

Del: Nag's 'ead time.

Ext. Nag's Head

The Trotters foot along the pavement and observe a beer delivery

Del: Lookahthaaht! Nice beer barrel. Would be merrily fortuituous if that came into our grasp. Top bance.

Rodney: Del! It would be illegal & immoral. Furthermore, we'd need a wheelbarrow to shift that cosmic fucker back to... where? The garage? Then what do we do with it? Sell it as it appears?

Del: Yeah, I 'spose it ain't a good idea.

Albert pauses alongside a hatch

Albert: 'ello Mike. We dan't need any more aggro, baht 'ow is that ineffective deep-fat fryer Del sold you?

Del: What's that idiotic, soppy aold dufferfuck tryna do to me!? I'm gonna stupidly run in full view of Mike in an attempt to lead Albert away

Del scoots in to Mike's view

Mike: Trotter! I'm disastisfied with the product I have purchased from you. I ought to be wise to the mediocre quality of your black market debris and avoid buying your rubbish.

Del: I'll be in the office, namely your pub. Orwi'

Del turns to Albert

Del: That wasn't a very clever move, Albert. I was trying to circumvent Mike's complaint from 'appenin'.

Int. Nag's Head

Del: Pina colada for me, half-a lager for Trotter the tall.

Albert: I'm jast goin' ta plummet down the cellar. I've done it befaw.

Del: Triffic, Albert.

Del and Rodney are seated and they sip their drinks

Sounds: BONK! BOOM! CRASH!

Del: Startled and concerned.

Barmaid: Del! It's your Uncah Lahbert. He's fallen down the cellar.

Del: Why's he gone an' pulled a stunt for an insurance scam!?

Int. Cellar

Del: Mike! Can you give me a pithy account of events.

Mike: Albert was up there, then he comically springboarded over here. Well erm, it woulda been comical if a camera captured it.

Del: Uncle Albert! Are you alrigh'?!

Albert: I can't qui'e hear you, sahn. Injury tinnitus.

Del: He's got last orders in 'is lug'oles.

Albert: I'm well within my right to sue the brewery.

Del: Let's help y- SUE THE BREWERY?!?! Lower him to the ground, Rodney.

Rodney: Ambulance?

Del: Yes. Albert's physical state is of no immediate concern to me. This will look grea' in the report for court. Phone Solly Atwell, too.

Rodney: Solly Atwell's ahr solicitah?! More bent than Boomerang Trotter. I meant the villains.

Int. Flat

Solly: Gentlemen-gentlemen-gentlemen. A bloke in America was struck down by a car and was awarded 2 million dollars. He claimed it ruined his sex life.

Del: At that rate, the money they'd pay out wouldn't cover the flight costs to orchestrate such an 'accident'. And his X-rays show no injuries.

Solly: What about this?

Solly sways a finger to point at Albert's hat

Del: His blue hat wasn't X-rayed.

Solly: No. Underneath. Psychological injuries.

Del: Woell he was nahn to clevah before he did an audition for Zippo's Circus.

Solly: The derealisation! The agoraphobia! His inability to walk.

Del: Remain in the wheelchair and act like you cannot liberally use yer pelvic appendages, Albert!

Solly: An out-of-court settlement would garner £1,000

Del: Wan thahsand!? If that's what they're willing to cough up aht of court, think what they'll settle for in court. Yes. I wan' a pukka court; room with ornate wooden seats; blokes with 18th-century wigs. Do the sozzo, Billy!

Solly: Any witnesses?

Rodney: Yes, just one - Mike.

Del: Will a pub landlord be acceptable?

Solly does a shifty nod

Int. Court

Barrister: Can you tell the court what happened.

Rodney: Why yes, my brother and I sojourned to the local beer house one evening, and we commenced consumption of our newly purchased alcoholic concoctions. Suddenly, we were astounded by a deafening clattering. The lady barkeeper notified us of what took place, and we rushed to the location of my Uncle to find him in quite a state.

Barrister: I see, and how did he fall?

Rodney: It's hard to act out. As I've just said, I was seated by the bar; the cellar wasn't in view. I cannot be dishonest as it's against my morals. And the barmaid knows where we were.

Barrister: And were there any warning signs?

Rodney glances at Del mouthing dialogue

Rodney: Probably. I can. Remember... drinking. at-the-time. Then-I-heard... noise. Oh fuck! We. Have. To-help-Albert. Someone-might-drink-our-beers-when. We're. Gone, mate.

Barrister: Thank you, Mr Trotter. Derek Trotter, your turn. Are you related to the plaintiff?

Del: I have no idea what that means. I drink in Mike's pub. My Uncle's that cunt over there with the beard.

Barrister: What happened, dearest?

Del: I saw fuck-all, y'honours. Baht Albert probably didn't heed the warnin' signs. Specula'ed disregard for public nudity!

Judge: Yes, yes, yes, I think we've considered neglilence or something.

Del: He was full of vigour, zest, life and genius, was my Uncle. They called 'im The John Sullivan of Peckham. I mean, he nevah wrote any knee-slapping, funny scripts. But then Uncle Gladstone got shoved into a wheelchair and is now like the Olympic Flame - he's conveyed around by someone.

Barrister: That'll be all, Mr Trotter.

Del: I've got plen'y more. Speakin' of which, I've got a crate load of Thundercats desk lamps and I'll spoon in a set of Art Nouveau tea coasters - that'll be sammink narce to whack with your gavel. Naow, these lamps usually retail at £14.99 in Plahmstead. YOU can have one for £15, can't say fairer than thaa-aat, me ol' ma'e.

Rodney: Del! Don't stray off into daft lunacy. It's supposed to be matter of fact.

Mike, wearing a neck brace, shakes his head

Mike: Arrrggh!

Judge: Would the gentleman wearing the neck brace please shut the fuck up.

Mike: That's not very caring, your honour. I obviously felt pain due to my injury.

Judge: Some judge I am.

Barrister 1: No further witnesses, m'lud.

Del goes back to the dock

Barrister 2: I have one more, m'lud. I call to the stand Albert Trotter.

Del: You said they wouldn't use him!

Solly: It was unlikely. Don't worry, I debriefed him. Any difficult questions and he claims loss of memory.

Rodney: Loss of memory?! Knowin' 'im he'll forget to be honest.

Albert goes to stand from the wheelchair

Judge: Don't rise, Mr Trotter. You're supposed to be immobile. Hand on the Holy Tome, and read aloud from the square.

Albert: I swear-a tell thah troof, the whole - 'whole/hole' UH-HEGH-EYH - troof, an naffin' baht the troof.

Barrister 2: I'm sure you won't. Your name is Albert Trotter, of Nelson Mandela Flats.

Albert: House, actually. And Gladstone. Not that I can remember, sahn.

Barrister 2: You are Albert House Trotter, a resident of Nelson Mandela Gladstone.

Albert: It's the other way around, shipmate.

Barrister 2: Quite. Can you tell the court precisely what happened on that fateful day.

Albert: Well... I'm an OAP an' I woz on mar way tah post me entry form to a gameshow that requires lots of physical strength and dexterity, then I tripped dahn an 'ole of the Nag's Head, 12 Booze Street, Peckham, SE15 3PP. Then me loife flashed befaw my eyes - Dahnkirk! Bah-ol of Jakku!

Barrister 2: Yes, well you have your medals to remind you of your war-time achievements, Mr Trotter. According to your records, you spent most of the war in a storage depot on the Isle of Wight. Not what you'd deem overseas.

Albert: I suppose you mean 'overseas' in the sense of being outside of mainland Britain. But even sao, sahn, it's a location that's quite perilous to travel by foot.

Barrister 2: Yes. I guess it is. It intrigues me, Gladstone, because you would have undergone specialist training in order to learn how to parachute.

Albert: Yah. Jampin' orf ov things.

Barrister 2: Jumping awf of things. That is to say, learning how to fall safely on one's arseness. Correct?

Albert: Erm, me amnesia has come bahck, sir.

Barrister: I also discovered that you have successfully won several out-of-court settlements for the same occurrences albeit in various locations.

Albert: Sorry, yer worship, I forgo' 'ow to contraol me bowel movements and I've consequen'ly shit meself.

Barrister 2: Could you be the same Albert Gladstone Trotter who tumbled into the brewery void of the Skittle & Dungheap, Lewisham, 1948?

Albert: Er... me mind's gawn blank.

Barrister 2: Maybeeee you're the uncannily similar Awbot Gludsten Trotter who, in 1954, defied gravity thereby dropping into the keg belly of the Cervix & Bauhaus Jim-jams, New Cross.

Albert: This brahn log ain't gonna wipe itself, sahn. Please excuse me.

Barrister 2: Maybeeeee you're the exactitude of the Albit Gledstone Trawttah who did the careless samba into the pub mouth of the Taramasalata & Quim Klaxon, Richmond, 1961. How about the Spitroast & Gloat Chimney, Ealing. Or perhaps the Ampersand & Dystentry Flannel rings a behlhll.

Del: Goggle-eyed! I do not believe Albert's fraudulent history. He's been down more holes than Tony Jacklin, the renowned golfer.

Rodney: I've never heard of Tony Jacklin. By 'been down more holes' I woulda thought he was an explorer who famously did a bit of potholing. Golfer's don't go 'down holes'; they knock the ball into a hole.

Ext. Court

Rodney: They nicknamed him The Ferret.

Del: THE. FERRET. I 'spose it's applicable, 'cause Solly does look like one.

Rodney: Not Solly. Albert was called The Ferret. Probably 'cause of his beard. Cloud Chin woulda bin better. And speaking of Solly, he has been... declothed or somethin'. Good! Slimy plonker.

Wheelchair: Squeak!

Del: Alrigh', 'ow many pabs have you done in your toime?!

Albert: Numerous, Del. You heard the listin' being read aht in cour' with those peculiar names. The first time was a real accident. I thought ''allo, this could earn me a few quid'. So when me an yer Grandad were hard up for a few Monkhouse - before we fell aht over your Aun' Ada - I used to fall dahn an' 'ole. You two boys have been comically sarcastic towards me. And you've given me a flat over me 'ead. And I, well, wan'ed to repay yer. An' I... wan'ed to raise sahm cash for yer Grendad's 'eadstaone.

Del: You did it for Grandad's headstone?!

Albert: He were me older bravva who I ain't seen in years, Del. He always looked a'er me and troyd to sheg yer Aunt Ada. Oh yeah! I already brought Ada up befaw. I almost forgot.

Del: Don't forget that you can walk, Kojakside. We aren't conveying you 'ome in that thing. I might keep this wheelchair for the episode Tea for Three in case the 'ospital doesn't supply us with one.

Albert: Tha's alrigh', sahn.

Rodney: Ohh, we better stop off at the pharmacy, get some lotion for Albert's bruises.

Albert: Broozes?! I ain't got any broozes, Rodney. Ain't that one-a the ending lines from It Never Rains?

Rodney: Oh yeah, it is. I forgot!

All: Hah-hah-hah-hah!

--

John Challis: Oy believe David Jason has landed just now. Ideal timing. I hope you enjoyed this mirthful episaode. Here's a never-before-seen photo of the Trotters outside the court. Note how Rodney's ear overlaps Del's face. HA-AGH-EGH-EGH-AGH-EGH-EGH!



Ferris

Posting to stop the "new post" edit glitch. All together now!

Put a penny in your pocket
I'll get the suitcase from the van...

DangledTeeth

#22
That's 'Sir' David Jason: I'm back from my autograph tour. My wrist is a bit sprained, but at least I drained my spuds. Erm, ah-huh-hhmm. Excuse me. Here's a wacky matter-of-episode Tea for Three, with NSFW new title and credit theme music.

Title Music

Int. Nag's Head

Trigger: Alright, Dave. Mike's beer tastes of piss.

Mike: Oi! Won an award

Del: Yeah, when 'e accidentally sent a urine sample to a beer festival

Trigger: I'm too stupid to understand that joke.

Del: Eh?! You'll laugh at the one I say about Boycie being such a tight-arse he has baked beans on Wednesday just so he can have a bubble bath on Thursday.

Trigger: Hah-hah, baked beans on Wednesday. (To Mike) So what did they reckon?

Mike: Sorry, Trig?

Trigger: Did the beer festival lot think it tasted like vinegar and Sugar Puffs? Or did it have a hop of pickled onion and Duracell?

Mike (ironically): Banana and mustard, Trigger.

Trigger: Lovely.

Albert: Brace yerselves faw sahm anderwhelming news, boys. Yer Aun' Ada 'as been rushed to 'ospi'al. Obviously it's serious. Actually, I ain't sure.

Trigger: Who's Rach- erm, Ada?

Del: Fuck knows. The 'Aunt' is a clue.

Albert: Yes, mar wife.

Rodney: Didn't you tell us that she said she'd kill you if she saw you again.

Albert: I dahbt she mean' it, sahn. But she might not be as sick as she's sappost to be.

Albert sadly moves off

Trigger: He's down in the dumps. Not literally near the ones by my council depot.

Del: Yeah, we'll take 'im down the Chinese takeaway and perk him ahp with warm chow mein, egg fried rice and a crispy pancake raoll. He'll forget about his ill, estranged wife then. You wanna accompany us, Trig?

Trigger: No thanks, Del. My niece Lisa will be here soon.

Del: Oh yeah, she's your sister's kid.

Trigger: Correct, Derek. I have only one sister, so of course my niece is my sister's child.

Del: A logical answer from Trigger. Stone me! Shame it ain't in the real version.

Trigger: She's grown up since you last saw her. Got engaged and now she's popped down to London in order to buy a wedding dress.

Del: I'll ignore all that vital info.

Albert stands at a mic stand

Albert: I'd like to dedica'e this song to a womun who ain't wiv me tonigh'. She's my sick woife 'oo I ain't seen in yeehs. It is that beau'iful pab rendition of the classic song Ay-dah.

Trigger: Is there a song called Ada?

Rodney: Maybe. Albert might alter the lyrics of an existing song.

Albert: AooOOooH, we'll mee' again, dan't knaow where, dan't knaow wheeeeeen. But I knaaow we'll mee' again sahm sanny AAAyyyyy-da.

Trigger: My niece Lisa has arrived.

Del: Noh naow, Trig. Gonna pop to the takeaway.

Lisa (Calling): Hello Del.

Del: Yeah, alrigh' darlin'. Insouciant response (Double take) Jub-fucking-bly!!!! Is that the scruffy mare wiv the blonde 'air?!

Del and Rodney are captivated

Rodney: Yeah.. I'm gonna stayda hear and, erm, listen to Aunt Lisa singing that atrocious tune.

Del: Yeah, think I'll have a chow mein and beef curry 'ere, Rodney. (Calling) Mike, special fried pina colada when yer ready.

Lisa hugs Del

Lisa: Hello Del, lovely to see you again

Del: Gaaw, ain't you goh (Del almost gesticulates the shape of 'two melons') a paira t-t- fairly tall.

Rodney: Hello, Lisa. D'you remember me?

Lisa gives Rodney a hug huge

Lisa: Alright there, Rodney. (To Del) Who is he?

Del: That's little Rodney, you used to play with him. 'opefully I'll get to play with your ti- erm, stay for tea?

Rodney: I was gonna invite Lisa rahnd.

Del: But I asked first.

Lisa: I'll do you both.

Rodney and Del almost blush

Lisa: What time?

Del: Oh, quar'er past tits.

Audience: HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!

Int. Trotters' Flat

Rodney: Why did you sing that shit song?

Albert: Shit song!? I wahn!

Rodney: You w- oi, Del. Albert only wen' and won the talent contest.

Del: That's because hardly anyone had a try after he sang that sack of neutered cats. I have bought Smash, a la carte chicken with dream pudding to follow. And your contribution, Rodney?

Rodney: I have purchased a multipack of chocolate. I didn't want to overdo it, as I'm sure a try-hard dipstick like you would provide us with something substantial.

Del: Chocolate?! Just as well I bought proper food. If it was ahp to you, we'd all be scoffing Mars Bars.

Del enters the kitchen

Rodney: I'm gonna have a quick tan - do a bit of twerking first - and I'm all set.

Albert: Listen Rodney, me and yer Grendad used to gah everywhere. We weren't jast brothers; we were mates. Yah. Exactly like you an' Del... except we wasn't mawkit chraders, sahn. Goh ahp to sahm roigh' capers. One night, we saw Fred on stairs. Frederick Robdall I mean - next year, sahn, you'll understand. First tarme I saw Ginger Rogers in a film was when we met your Aunt Ada... last time I saw 'er she looked larke Ted Rogers eatin' a ginger biscuit. Me and Edward couldn't decoide 'oo'd take 'er 'ome. He did a 'knock-knock' to me eye - five years, sahn, you'll undastehnd the ref'runce. Ar nevah saw 'im again from that moment retropast. I'm warrid 'istory's ganna repea' itself. I dan't want you figh'in'g yer deceased Grandfather over who's gonna shag yer elderly, sick Arnt Ay-daagh. Rodney?

Rodney: Emission of snore.

Albert: Fuckin' Lynd'urst!

Albert exits to his bedroom, and Del exits the kitchen

Del: Rodney, I've put the grub in the... Rodney. Oh, you are asleep and are tanning yourself. I'll crank this fucker up to savaloy.

Int. Flat - Evening

Del: ...then he came up to me and said 'Can I get a refund?' I said to 'im ''On your Bike, son'' To which he replied ''How can I?! Your knock-off saddle won't screw on''.

Lisa: Hah-hah-hah-hah

Rodney enters with a bag of chocolate

Del: Stereotypical Native American greeting

Lisa: Does it hurt?

Rodney: Only when I smile.

Del: With your embarrassed countenance, you've got nothing to smile about.

Lisa and Del: Hah-hah-hah-hah

Rodney: What was it you used to call Lisa's mum?

Del: Telephone.

Audience: HA HA HA HA.

Rodney: I've got a multipack of chocolate, Lisa. It's supposed to be 'cheese', but this is a set-up for one-a DangledTeeth's tremendous lines later in the episode. I've got Twix, Galaxy, Curly Wurly, Mars Bar

Lisa: Oh, no thanks. That reminds me, Richard Gere didn't eat a Twix in An Officer and a Gentleman. Wasn't he so handsome?

Del: Ohh, yeah, stylish an' all thaa-aaht.

Lisa: I love a man in uniform.

Del: Oh, now's me opportuni'y to impress. I used to be in the army, didn't I, Rodney?

Rodney: You've lived vicariously through Albert's stories, Del.

Del: I once flew me B-52 Harrier above 70,000 feet. Of course, the engine stalled and I had a bad landing.

Lisa: That's funny, I expected pilots to be... well... sexy.

Rodney: Yeah, well, he used to look like Richard Gere, but then he wen' up 70,000ft in a gigantic plane that's not a jump-jet

Lisa: Ha ha ha ha. I've got friends who are into flying out of the earth's atmosphere. I'm meeting them tomorrow.

Del: I love all thaaa-aaat. Rodney, make yourself useful and whack the kettle on.

Lisa: Oh no, I mustn't have anymore to eat or drink. I won't squeeze into my wedding dress if I stuff my face. I've got to go back to the States tomorrow.

Del: I'll give you a lift to your hotel.

Del exits to the bedrooms

Rodney: Erm... why don't me and Del give you a flight back to the US. We've branched out and are known as Trotters Worldwide Airline Travel Service. The van converts into a nice plane, jet engines, the whole lot.

Lisa: I couldn't ask you to do that.

Rodney: Nah, It'd be fun. We'll have a nice day in the sunshine. And it's Del's 46th birthday soon - in 1986 - despite the fact Del's Dad Reg walked out on us in 1965 when Del was 16. Inconsistent. Do you know what Del's ambition is?

Lisa: No, what?

Rodney: To go into outer space.

Lisa: I can get my mates to arrange a 'little flight'.

Rodney: Don't tell 'im. Our little secret. Yes, cannot wait. Little face.

Ext. Shuttle Launch



Del: Wha'?! You wan' me to blast ahp in one-a them shuttlecock things?

Lisa: My way of saying thank you for that meal.

Andy: Hello Del and Red Light Dipstick. Are you okay?

Rodney: I'm fine.

Andy: I apologise. You look like a flushed toilet. (To Del) I've done a bit of flying before, but not with your non-existent, absurd aircraft. Ready when you are, Del.

Del: Eh?! Oh, no-no-no-no. Don't wanna spoil yer fahn. You go on an enjoy yerselves.

Lisa: Oi-listen-heed, Del Boy Trottlers. I organised this for you.

Andy: Lisa and I will zoom off to make last-minute preparations, enough time for you to formulate a get-out plan for Del.

Andy and Lisa run off hand in hand

Del: Wish I kept me fuckin' gobmouth shaht. What's that Timothy Dalton lookalike wanna stick his snotgun in my affairs for?

Rodney: Lisa said she organised it. And 'e doesn't look that much like Timothy Dalton.

Del: I guess not. I can't back out of it now.

Rodney: Naoh, you'd look like a right cunt in front of everyone.

Del: Come on, Rodney, help me out of this. I know I fried your fizzog, but it's like Uncle Albert said - when I was in the kitchen and while you were asleep - we're brothers. We mustn't figh' over a woman.

Rodney: Let's do a light shoulder-barge hug.

Del: Any ideas, One Wiv the GCEs?

Rodney: Maths and Art. I have one in Plan. Righ', let's look at the facts. You don't wanna be an astronaut. Okay. But you don't wan' derision from the spectators. So I say we've got a call on our car phone.

Del: Plonkertit! We don't have one.

Rodney: This red crab will look vaguely like a solid lump-a plastic. You feign enthusiasm for your adventure. I say we've gotta rush back to London immediately. And we're like...

Rodney & Del: 'Oh dear no, what can we do about this urgent phone call we were not expecting!?'

Del: Good boy, good boy. (To Andy, calling) Er... An-dyyyy! Increase the speed of your preparation. Del Boy doesn't 'ang around for gravity. (To Rodney) He doesn't know.

Del does an assertive walk

Del is lining up to enter the space shuttle

Andy: Is your helmet okay, Del?

Del: Oh, yeah, it's snug in my thermal pants, Andy. Don't concern yerself, son. Upstairs for imaginin', downstairs for wankin'.

Andy: Ready when you are, Del




Del: Is that our crab I can hear ringing, Rodney?

Rodney: Nar-woh. We ain't got a sophisticated satellite phone, you dick. Have a good time, you waste of space. You might see Mars in the Galaxy. (To camera) See. Told you the chocolate would be a setup for a classically altered line, got 'space' in there, too.

Del: I shall have vengeance, Rodney.

Andy: Are you going, Del?

Del: Yeah... I'm goin'. Oh Jubbly Fuckly!

The rocket blasts off and yaws

Rodney: Aooh!

Andy checks a handheld radar

Andy: Where's he going?

Lisa: He's heading out to the Nybalx nebula.

Rodney: What's out there?

Lisa: He's heading into an asteroid field.

Int. Trotters' Flat

Rodney studies a book of galaxies

Albert: Get tha' brehndy dahn you. Del's been gorn one day - that's twen'y-four hours.

Rodney: Yeah, I know. I've got a GCE in Days.

Doorbell: Ding-dong

Albert: Shall ar answer ih, sahn?

Rodney nods with dread

Trigger enters

Rodney: Have they located Del?

Trigger: Yes, they found 'im, Dave. The escape pod was found on the shore of Kent. The hospi'al couldn't get hold of you. Next of kin. They phoned us. Me and Mike got a bus down there - the entire way.

Albert: I'll see you for the expensive fare.

Trigger: No need. I'm too simple-minded to care about finances.

Rodney: Has he broken anything?

Trigger: No, Mike behaved himself on the bus journey, as you'd expect.

Rodney: No, Trig, not Mike. I mean, Del. How's Del.

Trigger: Ask your half-brother, Dave.

Del rocks up in a wheelchair

Del: Evidently you got home safely, Rodney. I did not.

Albert: What'd the doctors say, Del?

Del: They said... If I were Liverpool FC, I'd change my motto thing to 'Never Walk Again'.

They bow their heads sadly except for Rodney

Del: I know - Rodney - my brother didn't mean for this to 'appen. I won't hold it agai-

Rodney: Alroigh'.

Del: Not quite the sympathetic response I expected. This is my punishment for turning your face a temporary crimson. Rights all the wrongs, dunnit.

Rodney: You might not fool this lot, but not me, bruv. Have a pina canaveral, put your David Bowie LP on, you'll be takin' your plonker pills.

Del: IS 'E ATTEMPTING TO IRRITATE ME OR IS THERE AN ALTERNATIVE?

Albert: You're jast like the lift when it ain't workin' - out of order, sahn.

Rodney: Listen to me, will you. NASA don't accept untrained personnel onto their rocket. You musta sneaked away from the steel gangway strip.

Trigger: No, Dave, it really did 'appen.

Mike: Yeah. This is a daft re-imagined version. Anything goes.

Rodney: Okay, cosmic, great. The NHS don't send 'disabled' people home by bahs. Furthermore, that wheelchair is from Hole in One. What is it you want, Del? A handshake from Neil Armstrong? Or an anal probe from Lisa?

Del rises and grabs Rodney

Del: Now-you-lis'en-to-me, you self-assured, clever little wallytwonk, I may never be able to w-

Del curls his lips inwards into a smirk

Del: I mahst admi', I am able to walk again

Albert: Shouldn't tell them sor'a lies, Del!

Del: Don't blame me, Unc. Blame Rodney for his payback over the tanning which I'm to blame for. (To Rodney) I was ahp there for three hours. I pressed the button for the escape pod and glided across Cape Carnival. Little kids were shahtin' at me ''THERE GOES BUZZ ALLDERS! BUZZ ALLDERS!''. I llanded on something soft.

Rodney: Your head isn't soft; it is quite thick.

Del: No, it wasn't my head. The safety balloon thing inflated from out the pod and I fell out, consequently terrifying a courting couple - in the sense of playing tennis. Due to your Jubbly mind and UNIVERSAL CUNTYNESS, it was game, set and crash. The tennis couple were that horrified by the incident they've put their wedding back a few months. Dunno what NASA are gonna do me for shittin' in their suit.

Trigger: Speaking of weddings, Lisa's got hers. You're all invited; I coordinated the wedding. Forget the official invites in envelopes.

Del: That's all we need! Fuckin' trip to 'ampshire an- married?!

Trigger: Yeah, some bloke called Andy. I stated she came up to London to buy a wedding dress. Lisa musta mentioned it to you?

Del: I ignored it for comical effect.

Mike: I'll open up the pub early to celebrate, hope no punters walk in.

Trigger: That's considerate of you, Mike. Are you comin', Albert?

Albert: Ar'll be there, Trig.

Mike: I shall leave this wheelchair here as it doesn't belong to me. I expect you two startled morons will be joining us. Smug grin and faux-push of the wheelchair.

Goggled-eyed Del & Rodney

Albert: Sao she woz geh'in marrid awl along and Trig taold you towards the star' ov this episode, and I expect Lisa dropt a big 'int. The pair of you are idiots. HEUH-UH-EEH-HYUH!

New Credits Theme

----



David Sir Jason: Well, that's yer altered classic. That's all from me and the MoF Favourites. Get yourselves ready for a brand new Xmas OFAH episode in the next couple of weeks. I won't specify what it is, but I'll leave you with this inspired quote: With great power comes great irresplonksibility *Winks* Bonjour.

Glebe

DAVE J: Hello everyone, and welcome to another Gold favourite. I was an ordinary electrician from North London, and John Sullivan was also just a working class boy. I used to say, "But John, where do you get your ideas from, you're just an ordinary lad like me-"

GLEBE: Sorry to interrupt Sir David, this isn't a 'favourite moment', it's a full episode!

DAVID: Aw fack owight ven!

OFAH CLASSIC: STAGE FIGHT!

Opening theme!

INT.LOUNGE.MORN

ALBERT: Cor, Rodney didn't 'alf cam in wiv a hangover! Here Del, have you seen the aftershave to put on me breakfast fish?

DEL: Got a bit business to take care of, headin' aht, unc!

ROD: WHERE'S MOI TRAMPET?!?

ALBERT: Dahn the garbage shoot.

ROD: Crumbs! It durst belong to a big bloke named Biffo! 'es ganna kiol me!

INT.DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE CLUB.DAY

DEL: Hey readers, I've just popped dahn the Riversoide Clab to see who the new owner is... moigh be a bitta bance in it!

BRICKTOP FROM THE FILM SNATCH: DEREK FACKING TROTTER, AS OI LIVE AN' BREAFH!

DEL: Aw fack me... o-orwight, Bricktop, didn't knaw yoo woz dah new ownah!

BRICKTOP: Verz a lot yoo dan knaw abaht me, Del Boy, my san... includin' a lot you dan wanna knaw!

DEL: Y-yeah, well, it's noice to see you, mate!

BRICKTOP: Noice?! Cam orf it wiv dah old pony, Del! And oi may be many fings, Derek, but yoor 'mate' ain't facking wan of 'em!

DEL: Yeah, sorry, Bricktop... a-anyway, yoo goh any business goin'?

BRICKTOP: Viz may be yoor lacky day, Del, m'boy, as oi do 'ave a bitta business needs sortin', as it 'appens... oi need a singer f'Saturday noight... samway fanny moind, loike samwan 'oo carn't pronounce their R's, for instance...

DEL (putting on a thinking face): Yeah, yeah... oi fink oi moight be able to foind samone, Bricktop!

BRICKTOP: There's a cappla bance innit for yah if yah cam through... but you waste my toime, Derek, and so help me oi will shav moi boot so far up yoor arse yoo'll be licking the toecap clean! DO OI MAKE MOISELF CLEAR?

DEL: Crystal, Bricktop, crystal... er, see you later, ma... Bricktop.



INT.LOUNGE.EVENING

DEL: So Bricktop's rannin' Dahn Boi dah Rivahsoide, an' 'e wants a fanny singer wiv a lisp!

ROD: Weol vatz gotta be Tony Ferrino or whatevah he's corled!

DEL: Wot yoo fink oim sam koinda wallybrain?!

BUSTER MERRYFIELD: Jast as long as yah don't coll Biffo... 'es mad at Roddie ovah dah trampet!

The phone rings. DEL answers it. It's BRICKTOP.

BRICKTOP: Good evening, Derek... oi hope yoo are on the case wiv that singer for yoor sake! You are on vewwy thin oice wiv me!

DEL: 'Vewwy?', heh, yoo carn't pronounce yoor R's, Bricktop!

BRICKTOP: SHAT YOOR FACKING FACE YOO... CANT! Forget abaht Bazby, oi woil shav moi facking hand dahn that phone an' rip y'facking froat aht! Nah yoo try an' be fanny wiv me again sanshoine, oil cat y'facking jacobs orf, yoo toerag! UNDERSTAND?!

DEL: Yes Bricktop, sorry Bricktop, oil sort it aht, soon az! Gunna visit Brendan O' Shaughnessy in the mornin', see if 'e can help!

BRICKTOP: Vat facking pikey? Fack me, good luck wiv vat, yoo arsehole!



EXT.GRANDAD'S ALLOTMENT.NEXT MORN

DEL: Owight Brendan, goh any oideas f'a singer f'Bricktop?

BRENDAN: Oi dahn't, Del, but wud yeh loike t'boi a caravan af me?

DEL: Fackin' pikey.



INT.DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE CLUB.SATURDAY NIGHT

ROD: I hope you've sorted this, Del... surely you got the Tony Montana bloke?

DEL: Wot yoo fink oim sam koinda dipstick, Roderney?! It's sorted!

BRICKTOP: Weol, weol, weol... yoo brought y'girlfriend along, Derek?

ROD: Er, hello Bricktop, how's it going?

BRICKTOP: SHAT YOOR FACKING FACE, RODNEY, you facking... plonker. Where's vat old seadog, Albert?

DEL: Er, 'es at 'ome, Bricktop.

BRICKTOP: Weol 'e 'ad bettah not show 'is face arand here wiv orl iz 'durin' the woah' shoite... or oi wiol set moi dogs on 'im! Nah where's moi singah?!

DEL: I-it woz a larst minute fing, Bricktop... it's a surprize!

BRICKTOP: I do not like surprizes, yoo facking twat! Vis bettah be good!



It comes time for BRICKTOP to introduce the act. The audience cheers and claps as he takes the stage.

BRICKTOP: Owight, moi pedigree chams... we 'ave a laverly bih of entertainment for yoo knaw, a surprize guest, straight from Las Vegas, supposedly...

BRICKTOP looks daggers at DEL, who gulps.

BRICKTOP: So giv a big, warm, Dahn Boi dah Riversoide welcome to... whoever the fack it iz!

MENTAL MICKEY: Wan, two, free, foah... (singing and doing his weird, jerky, rock 'n' roll dance) Now listen here, tell me if yoov heard it... a million kids dahn naffin' to deserve it...

ROD: Oh fack me.

BRICKTOP: Cam wiv me, Trotter.

DEL: Ulp.



Shortly... Mickey is still on stage, about to perform the next number... there is a sudden change of drummer...

ROD: Oiv goh me teachests, Mickey! One, two. three, fou-

MICKEY: OI TOLD YOO WANCE RODNEY, OI'M NOH GANNA TELL YOO AGAIN, SAN - OI DO DAH WAN, TWO, FREE, FOAHS!

BRICKTOP: Oi Rodders, jast thought oi'd inform yah... Derek is carrently being introduced to moi pigs... they'll go through vat Del loike battah!

ROD: Phew! Glad oi didn't book Mickey!

BRICKTOP: Oh yeah, boi dah way, Roderney, oi 'ave samebody 'oo wonts ta meet yoo!

BIFFO: WHERE'S MOI TRAMPET?!?

RODDERS: Oh fack.

THE END!

Closing theme!


DangledTeeth

#24
Bricktop & Men'al Mickey - cushty karma points awarded!

-



Lyndhurst: Good evening, plonkers. You'll know me best as Rodneys Trottered, or as Gary's Barrow from Goodnight Mr Sweetchips. Now, David Sir MBE Jason said he's not going to present the MoF episodes anymore. But it doesn't stop me from running Trotter's Inderpendunt Troayduhs. I mean presenting Matter-of-fact scenes from OFAH. Don't worry, the Xmas special shall commence development soon, quite busy this week. In the meantime, here's a trilogy for you. 3. Rodney Resigns from His Job or as it's sometimes known The Chance of Dinner Time

Int. Trotters' Flat - Lounge

Rodney (On phone): Hello, Alan. Yeaaaah, I was enthralled by the new premises. Cosmic. I have been regaling Derek abo- what?! You've accepted my resignation!? That was a mistake. Thing is, Alan, Cassandra and I have had, welllll, hiccups in our marriage. We recently settled our differences and agreed to meet up at our humble flat. I passed by the Nag's Head and began chatting with Del. Unfortunately, Del's inebriated ex-fiance needed to be ferried abode in apparent taxis, and because Raquel was approaching the Nag's Head, Del didn't want some pissed-up old flame to cause a commotion in front of Raquel. So Del requested me to escort the lady to the convenience wheels, and at that precise moment, Cassandra paused at a cross roads and observed me helping Trudy regain her balance. The unfortunate positioning made it appear like I was givin' her a sex-fuck against a car. I didn't want to project any embarrassment towards the Parry family. Resignation thussed. You've replaced me with Elvis?! Okay. Telephone call ended.

Del: Besterest job you evah 'ad an' you naused it ahp forra jelly whistle. Why ever did for, Rodders?

Rodders: Accusative tone. Albert! Jonah and Sinbad's Locker of the Seven Seas over there. He convinced me I needed to take advantage of my status and job role by resigning in order to send a message that I'm some important cunt.

Albert: It was a dif'ront scenariao. My lih-ul tale cen'red on the hierarchy of naval ranks and the bloke goh uhway with being court marshalled as he was an essential part of the crew. You're jast sahm chap who ponced abar' wiv a compu'er who ain't truly qualified to do the job, as Del bough' your diploma.

Del: Aoh, dan't worry, you soppy tart. I'll 'ave a word with Alan and get some (Gestures a drinking motion) jellied eel scotches dahn 'is gob. Custy Bushty.

Int. Nag's Head

Alan: An' then I-I did a *hic* a scene in Batman. F-fuckin' good time, that was.

Del: Oh yeaah, I remembah it well, Alan. (Del pushes a scotch towards Alan) Good time like when Rodney used to 'andle your data an' all thaa-aat.

Alan: Not really, Del. *Burp* Rodney ended up deleting or transfering his spruh-spreadshits around the department.

Del: Woell, 'e ain't got a GCE in Computers. Baht a GCE in Employment prevails, Alan. Don't forgeh thaa-aat.

Alan: I suppose... but what about *swishes finger* Elvis?

Del: Oh, 'im. He'll become an actor or sammink. It's best you demote him again and say there was a bollock-up in yer diary. I mean, do you reaaaly wan' a carrot top to apply 'is pasty fingers across your keyboards and door 'andles? No way, Hucknall!

Alan: Yeah... y-you've golla poin', DDDDel. But Rodney ddoessn't, erm, need a jjob with me. 'e'll be alrigh', Cassandra makes a good living with the bank. Anyhow, you need him for yyour market tr-trading. It's tradishnal for this sitcom, Del. Poor ol' Albert is a retired man; you can't expect him to... parade around in your wares and hoist your s-stock.

Del: Uh yeaaah, I 'adn't thawt-uh thaa-aat! Rodney can work for me again.

Alan: I'll ddissappear from the Xmas spechls, starting from Mother Nature's Son, I think.

Del: Good luck with the Oxo adverts.

Alan: I'm not the Oxo Dad.

Del: Oh erm, Lovely Jubbly.

2) To Hull and Back

Int. Trotters' HQ

Rodney: In all the aggro, I pinched the 15k. If you watch the scene again you'll see I swiped nothing. The wad of money was calling 'Father Rodney, Father Rodney'. Actually, it wasn't. Paper isn't a living organism with a voicebox.

Albert: Very surreptitious, Rodney. I have concealed diamonds about my pipe.

Del exposes his shirt cuffs

Del: And a coupla scintillating felines' ocular bollocks.

Rodney: You ought to invest that £15,000, Derek.

Del: Yes. Into the estate.

Del launches the wad off the balcony

Albert: Disbelief.

Rodney: Concur.

Del: Boycie paid me with cahnterfeit mahney.

Rodney: It had silver lines and watermarks, very authentic and difficult to replicate. Why would Boycie furnish you with dud dosh?!

Del frowns in deep thought with his mouth open

Del: Aoh naooh, wha' 'ave I dahne!? Dipstick, Rodney! This is all your fault!

Rodney: Meeeey!? But I only pocketed our earnings; you chucked our dubiously-earned wage out of the flat.

Del: Don't play fuckin' mind games with me, R-

The doorbell rings and Albert answers

Hoskins and Parker foot in to the lounge

Del: Oh, alrigh' Terry? Wha' do I owe this pleasure?

Terry: You know why I'm 'ere, Del. We've just nicked Slater, been monitoring 'im since the last operation. We know he had a rendezvous with you in that room. Now, I'm guessing you were the smuggler or a coordinator.

Del: Leave it aht, Terrence, what do you take me for?

Terry: There's a lot of confetti floating around the estate. Thrown the evidence away?

Albert: 'ow can a paira doimunds flao' in the air, sahn?!

Del lowers his eyelids in disbelief

Del (muttering): I don't believe this cunt.

Terry: I nevah said anythin' about diamonds, erm... whoever you are. (To Del) So you kept some of 'em for yerself. Hand 'em over, Del.

Del reluctantly hands over the pipe-concealed diamonds and Terry places them on the dining table

Terry: Lovely and sparkling. Arrest them, Parker.

Parker advances on Del

Del: Just-a-minute! Let's sor' this aht like gen'lemen. Come on, Terry. You dan't need to put us away.

Terry: Oh, I think I do, Del. I'm not like Slater. I do things by the book, but I'll make it easy on you, Del. After all, you did sell my Mum a gas oven or sammink - not defective.

Terry goes to collect the evidence placed on the dining table

Del's hand vices Terry's wrist

Del: What do you think you're doing?

Terry: You what?! I'm gathering the proof, Del.

Del: Oh no-no-no-no, Hoskins. Not on your Terry.

Terry: I don't know what y-

Del: Well... I've got... a pair of aces (Removes 'cufflinks) and I've got... another pair of aces.

Del flops down an immunity from prosecution and a script book

Rodney: Four aces! Four fuckin' aces! GRANDAD! I MEAN ALBERT! Not-shouting-in-your-ear. Del's got four aces, see.

Albert: I thought Del Boy migh' 'ave samfing on his sleeves. His cuffs to be precise. HOO-EEH-UEH-HYEH!

Terry: Well done, Del. Ni-cely pla-yed! The immunity thing applies only to the micrahwave oven, not a diamond-smuggling racket. But Where'd you get that scriptbook from?

Del: John Sullivan. It says that this episode doesn't end with you knocking on the door.

Terry: True. I'll be off then. You've evaded arrest and have a few sparklers, but you still chucked the wad of cash off the balcony.

Del smiles then suddenly appears mortified


1) The Arse of '62

Del: I have received a fax from Mike. He has attempted to communicate the 'fx mhne s nt wrkn'. But he's somehow sent a pristine fax without any errors about a school reunion.

Raquel: Don't lower your inhibitions.

Del: I shall get drunk.

Int. Nag's Head - Hire Room

Rodney: No idea why I'm here. But the sheer mysterious mood of this venue reminds me of an Agatha Christie novel.

Trigger: I used to fancy a woman with the same surname.

Del: Can you remember what she looked like, Trig?

Trigger: Yeah, smartly dressed, understated. Read out the specifications of an item at an auction sale.

Boycie: That's a woman who worked at Christie's, you tit.

Trigger: Taken aback. Defensive. I maintain my desire.

Rodney: Someone's summoned you here and the biggest mystery of all is we don't know why. Now... think hard who would organise this.

Trigger: Jeremy Beadle.

Denzil: It could be. I mean, he doz prank people with hidden cameras.

Boycie: 'ang about! This is a school reunion, therefore it musta been someone who taugh' us or...

Del: ...Someone in our classss.

Trigger: Italian kid, Cami Radderri?

Del: Nah, think 'e moved.

Denzil: The headmaster Arnold Alliteration?

Boycie: Nah, he'd never be let back into society; he killed a party of fishermen, not too far my cottage.

Del: Someone in our class. Gasp! It couldn't be... Slater?!?!

Boycie: You mean... former copper Roy Slater?

Del: Yeah!

Denzil: That's about right, lads. Slater woz sent down for fiiiive years in '85. It's 1991 now. That's six years agoh.

Rodney: Aside from a GCE in Art, I have one in Maths. I can say with certainty that Denzil is correct.

Denzil: And he coulda been released eaahlier, settled down sohmewheare this pahst year, organiiiised this reyoonion.

Del: Gordon BBBBennett! Denzil's cracked it. Fast exit?

Boycie: And quick!

They jog out of the room all orderly, Del nips back in and scoops up a couple of sandwiches and a can of beer

A minute passes and Slater enters the room

Slater: Well, that concludes our reunion. Will you excuse me... I've got a train to catch. Have a nice life, no one.

Rewind static appears

Backmasked Chipmunk voice: Scwii-iyuuh-yaaab-boo-wuuh-errrh!

Slater (To Camera): Did you really think it'd end like that? Let's have another MoF alternate ending, shall we?

Int. Nag's Head

Rodney: You habitually neglect your money keepsake, Royworth Spencerford Slaterly.

Del: A prime example being your endearing notification sent by a diamond merchant. What if the Metropolitan Police received such a letter.

Slater: Heightened sense pertaining to the tongue fornicate everything, Derek. I have the original about my individual. Furthermore, it is against
your 'esteemed character' to seek any form of justice or assistance from the authorities. To wit, you are not a grass. Get out of that one, Kathy Burke.

Del: I ensured I produced a copy for my personal advantage. Can you sternly yet smugly present the equipment from an unflattering carrier bag, please, Rodney.

Slater gawps at a beige block

Del: This is a fax machine. It has a button. What is emblazoned on said button, Slater?

Slater: It reads 'photocopier'.

Del: Correct. A photocopying feature which can produce a desired amount of copies of whatever two-dimensional object you place upon it, specifically a sheet of paper, FROM A DIAMOND MERCHANT.

Slater: Temporarily suspend everything for a generalised amount of time. You managed to brain your way out of that microwave arrest. I shan't make the same mistake again. Knowing what shifty bollocks you purvey, the aforementioned function on that contraption more than likely doesn't work properly.

Del attempts to keep a cool face

Del (Calling): Moykal, you somehow - I mean 'successfully' - sent a very clear invite to Roy's reunion after complai- complimenting your recently acquired machine.

Mike: Yes, Derek. Unfortunately, the photocopier bit of it is knackered to fuck.

Slater: Well... Derek Trotter tried to cleverly weasel his way out of a predicament by formulating a deal, using a broken lump of nothing as leverage. Just for that, I will punish you, Del. (To Mike) You obviously know Raquel. (Mike nods) I have riveting news for you, Michael. Raquel used to be my wife.

Mike (Polishing glass): Yeah. And? What's so unique about you?

Slater: I used to be a policeman - a crooked one, though. But an enemy of Del Boy all the same. You surely can't trust Del Boy now? Ex-copper's ex-wife is now with Del.

Mike: Trust Del Boy?! (Mike slowly tilts his head forward with incredulously raised eyebrows) Fax machine, remember? I don't remember your impact as a loathed policeman. Who cares.

Boycie and Trigger enter

Slater: Boycie! Trigger! What excellent timing. Get a load of this, you two. Raquel - Del's partner - is my ex-wife.

Boycie turns his head in the direction of Del

Boycie: Is this true!?

Del (Embarrassed): Yeah, 's'true, Boycie.

Boycie (To Slater): HAH-AGH-EGH-AGH-EGH-EGH-AGH!

Slater: Eh!?!? Why are you laughing at me?! This reflects poorly on Del.

Boycie: Aoh, come off it, Roy. We don't trast Del in terms of business. And Del has managed to succeed where you failed. And a new Trotter on the way, too.

Slater: Bu- Trigger? Your reaction?

Trigger: I'm too thick to care about the intricacies of this situation.

Slater: But Boycie, Raquel was with me first. Del has 'second-hand goods'.

Boycie: I sappose that's one woay of lookin' at it. But nothing can be more humiliating than Raquel doing a bit of stripping in this very pub - and it ain't got anything to do with applying a scraper onto wallpaper.

Slater: WHAT?! Stripping?! I pity you, Del Boy. You can have half of everything from the divorce I shall gladly give 'Rachel'. Oh, and do me a favour, when the baby's born name him Damien after the antagonist in The Omen.

Rodney: I dislike that suggestion, for I don't want to be terrified by Del's future child with my far-fetched beliefs attached to the supernatural, and the DVD editors would have a tough time in shortening or replacing the ominous music track 'O'Fortuna' with shitty stock music.

Slater: Del Boy, nice life.

Del: Self-assured response.

Slater exits as Albert enters

Albert: I knah 'oo 'Rachel' is nar. She's Raquel. The names are qui'e similar, and she was the only woman in the room. Ar'm sorry I didn't realise soonah. I was 'alf-asleep.

Del: I think you were when you got dressed, Albert. You've got your duffle coat and trahsiz on, but you're still wearing your string vest, you soppy aold duffercunt.

Albert: Oh yeah! I woz in an 'urry. HYUH-HEER-MUH-HUUH!

-

Rodney Lynd'urst: And that's yer triple MoF scenes. This time coulda been spent on the exclusive Xmas Special, but it's early days. Thank you for watching. Goodbye.

Ferris

Quote from: FerriswheelBueller on December 03, 2018, 04:53:50 AM
Posting to stop the "new post" edit glitch. All together now!

Put a penny in your pocket
I'll get the suitcase from the van...


And again - all together now!

cos where it all comes from is a mystery,
Like the changing of the weather or the tides of the sea...

Glebe

EXT.MARKET.DAY.

DEL: Rodney, it's the loast wan!

ROD: The loast wot?

DEL: The wan where David Beckham falls froo dah marketplace!

ROD: Oh yeah. Cosmic.

DEL: Dah iz moi most favourite episode, dah iz!

ROD: Right, well I bettah model veez briefs, then.

DEL: Today, ladies and gen'lemun, Rodney is moduling a pair of facking undercrackers az worn boi David Beckham to cavah 'is golden balls! Plaz they iz soigned by the legendary footboller 'imseulf!

PUNTER: Fuck that. Bullshit.

ROD: Oi am going to kioll yoo!

DEL: Naw cam on, Woderney! It's anly a bit a fan f'Sport Relief or sam'ing!

ROD: 'ow'd yoo get Becks to soign 'em, anyway?!

DEL: 'e owes me coz oi goh a banzy cas'ul for iz daughter Haarlem or sam'ing! Come on, let's go to Sid's Cafe... or whoever owns the cafe now that Sid runs The Nag's!

INT.CAFE.SHORTLY.

DEL: Corn't believe nah sod wonned t'boi dem Beck-soigned annahpants!

ROD: Derek, Beckham is sitting besoide you!

DEL: Big deal Roddy, oi olready met him!

ROD: Oh yeah, obviously.

DAVID BECKHAM: I am in disguise in glasses. Rodney, do you like the art?

ROD: Yeah. I love Matisse's oeuvre in particular.

BECKS: He is my most favourite footballer, he is!

AUDIENCE: Chuckle!

DEL: Yoo nevah dahn naffink to 'elp, Rodney!

ROD: Oh yeah?! Wot abaht dat toime oi sold tractor parts?

DEL (to camera): Oh yeah, remember vat classic episode, audience?

BECK'S HAM: Wendy house! Any road Rodney, you've got to oscillate them boxer-briefs!

EXT.MARKET.DAY.

DEL: Observe, as Rodney swaggers wiv 'is pair of soigned Beckhams!

LITTLE BOY: Mr. Beckham, please sign my ball.

DAVE B: Okay, but I must remain inconspicuous as I fall through the marketplace!

BECKHAM FALLS THROUGH THE MARKETPLACE.

AUDIENCE: Classic!

THE END!

Classic theme!


DangledTeeth

#27


David Jason: Oh, Merry Christmas from me, Da-vit Jay-suorn MBE and all the staff at GOLD. The scheduled, brand-new Xmas episodic film is still in production due to general busyness. Come to think it, it doesn't have a Christmas theme, but this little combination does. Get your glass of egg nog brandy or sammink and enjoy a GOLD exclusive - here - on GOLD.



Opening Theme - NSFW lyrics

Int. Nag's Head

Del: Got my brown jug of drink. Laudible jugglies!

Rodney: I have arthur lar-ger.

Grandad: Hat on me 'ead.

A stereotypical Spanish man plays a tune

Del: Oi John, song request.

Rodney: No Gentle Giant 'Dog's Life', Del. You requested that in the last Xmas special based on this episode.

Del: Old Shep, please

John: Del Mate, is ain't possible to sing that depressive audio.

Del: Here is a tidy £5 note which is a lot of money in these-them nowadays. And caht aht that cockney accent. You're Spanish in this version.

Juan: Senor, eet es a sheet song. Make all the pipple cry.

Del: Tidy. Five. Pound. Note.

Juan: Ven I waaaas a laaaad. And ollld shep was a cuu-uunt.

Grandad: This song is quite dour and not ideal for this festive occasion.

Del: Aoh cahm off it, Grendad. It's that chart-topping classic 'Old Shep', song-tune abou' a dead labrador.

Rodney: As far as musical compositions centred on deceased canines go, it's a righ' ol' blangdobbler of a tune.

Del: Well, that lady called Heather - whose name I don't yet know - enjoyed it. (Del smirks) Excuse me, Grandad, Rodney. I have some chatting-up to do.

Del saunters across to the bar

Del: Hello Heather, mind if I rest my arse?

Heather: Free country, mate.

Del: Oh look, I've bought me brahn jarg wiv me. Hah-hah-hah-hah.

Heather: It's a remarkable decanter, without question.

Del: My name is Del Boy, somewhat short for Derek. You can call me Del Boy Derek or any variation you prefer.

Heather: My name is Heather

Del: Naow, I say this to every bird I mee', Heather is my most favourite name.

Heather: Every woman you meet is named 'Heather'?! Startled!

Del: Nah-no-no, I dan't mean I say 'Heather is my most favourite name' to women I converse with. I m-

Heather: Hee-hee. I know.

Del: I larke iiiit. I've hardly spoken to you, but d'ya fancy gahn to a little drinkin' club?

Heather: Why, yes I do. Most of the extras formed an orderly queue and fucked on elsewhere, as people would do in real life if they heard a song they disliked.

Del: Yes, after 'e sang that gloomy shit about a pooch, I ain't surprised they vacated the pubmises. Contradicted meself about the song I like.

Int. Heather's Flat

Del: One quick beer and I'm at your gaff.

A man in his 40s enters

Heather: Hello, Brian. Thank you for looking after my son.

Del: Only bein' friendly, John.

Heather: Hah-hah, Del, Brian is my downstairs neighbour. Bring a man back here while I'm still married?! You are a plonkers.

Brian: I am a mature student.

Del: Oh, student? My rodder Brothney was a student. Studied Penthouse and got a GCE in Spliff with a Chinese Woman.

Heather: I hope my son wasn't too obstreporous.

Brian: No, he was fine. I've tolerated chirpy, working-class market traders before.

Heather: Mind the stairs on the way down, there's a drum k-

Noise: BONK-BOOM-DOOMP!

Heather: Del, don't get any ideas. I'll try again with my estranged husband.

Del: 'e's nawt Thomas Mackayley-Farthingworth?

Heather: No, that was Irene's husband. I don't want to go on several dates with you, which'll lead to your buying me an expensive ring, presumably an engagement ring.

Del: Okay, naoh warries. Let's do a quick romantic montage before I dejectedly leave the Star of Bengal.

HMS London Planetarium: Zoo-ooo-oom, you chased the day aaaa-waaaay. Hii-iii-iiigh noooooon, the moon and stars came out to plaaaay

Ext. Stah ov Bengowl

A Salvation Army band toot out Away in a Manger

Del produces a fifty quid note

Lead Trumpeter: No, not doing that one.

Del: I'm beginning to lose my bank note with you, Salheart. Now I'm gonna cahnt ta ten, then I'm gonna shove this trumpet righ' ahp yer

Trumpet: PPPOOOAWP!

Lead Trumpeter: You do realise that'll cost you fifty pounds.

Del slips 50 quid

Band: When I waaaas a lad, and olllld shep was a plop...

Del: I'm not going to immerse myself in this costly music, I'm going to drive away.

Int. Trotters' Flat

Grandad: That was the doorbell, Rodney.

Rodney: I suppose I'd better answer it, add to the brief mystery

Int. Entrance Hall

A dishevelled old man stands at the door

Reg: I am not a door-to-door beggar, sir.

Rodney: You addressed me as 'sir'. Let me check over my shoulder to determine if there are any esteemed figures of society in my vicinity. No. crack on...

Reg: I know the Trotters live here as I ran off from there in the mid 1960s, and the sign is still nailed to the wall. Your Grandad shall verify who I am.

Grandad: Reggie!?!?

Reg: Hello Father, diddlin'.

Grandad: Too long, son. Great to see you.

Rodney: Let me guess, this is my Dad?

Grandad: For now, yes. A shit episode in 20 years' time will prove otherwise.

Int. Hallway - Evening

Del: 'ad a quick one with Heather, and naow that twonking cunt 'as cahm back.

Rodney: Del, he is not the man you described. He has changed in terms of personality.

Int. Lounge

Del & Rodney enter to find Reg all ensconced

Reg: I've changed into one of Del Boy's signature shirts. I am King of Nelson Mandela House.

Del: I ought to chuck yer aht of this flat. Sling yer 'ook. There's some cold tea and vol-au-vents for Uncle Albert in the kitchen, but they'd perhaps expire in a few weeks, you better eat 'em naow.

Reg: I am... ashamed. I'm not proud. I was ruminatin' on that hospital bed - uh-ah-hem hospital bed - and thought abou' that pivotal maomen' I walked ou' this flat. It 'urts, Del Boy. Illurts!

Grandad: Hospital bed?!

Reg: Illness.

Del: Something debilitating that doesn't affect us three, I hope.

Reg: I'd been living up Newcastle recently and wen' in for a routine check-up

Del: January Story! January Story!

Reg: I'm tellin' you the troof this tarme, Del Boy.

Del reads the letter

Reg: Hereditary blood illness - let me cup my pectoral for dramatic effect - it's difficult to pronounce.

Grandad: Long word, Reggie?

Reg: OoOoOoOh yeeeeeah, Dad. I live an' 'ope for a cure.

Rodney: Aoh, cahm orn... Dayd. These doctor can- HOH-REH-DIT-CHROY?! I could be affected.

Del: HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH! Best joke all year. Who gives a jubblying fuck about Rodney?! (Realises) AND ME!

Reg: Yes, this is why I'm here. Warn me children. I'm feeling a notch weak. I'll clamber into the 'ammock. Oh and er... Mirry Chrizdmas.

Reg exits to the bedroom

Del: Merry Christmas?! Some people get wise men gifting bears. We get a diseased Reginald.

Int. Flat - Morning

Rodney: I got an all-clear, moy sahn. Don't look happy, Del.

Del: Not opened marne yet. (Reads letter) It reads... my Aussie visa has been approved.

Rodney: Eh?! That's not for a another three years.

Del: Negative.

Rodney: That is actually good news.

Del: Twats! Why do they do that?!

Rodney exits to get changed

Del: Conspicuous section about blood groups, and the letter appears to have been doctored.

Grandad: 'course it's been 'doctored', you've bin examined and the paperwork's been done.

Del: Not like thaa-aat. I meant in the sense of altered.

Grandad: Oh. Rodney is quite differently tall.

Rodney enters

Rodney: Where is Dad?

Del: You are tall. I mean he ain't yer dad. Blood groups.

Rodney: Don't mean a thing

Enter Reginald

Reggie: Checked yer Grendad's army records - Vera Lynn, and the Andrew Sisters?! Difront blad groups? Allo, funny. Laaaone Rangah. I'd wallop your mavva in self-defence is she were alive.

Del: Angered yet restrained!

Reggie: Wagging finger. You are the mystery, Del Boy.

Del: I went to see Dr Beckham; he said blood groups mean cunt-nothing in this universe. And this pain in my arse will subside once Reginald has a lonnnng brissssk wawolk in new surroundings.

Reginald: Aoh fuck! I mahst be on my way. Daon't wanna outstay me welcome.

Del: Let me stare at you as I pop some money into your pocket

Reg: Silly facial expression and quick exit

Grandad: Conniving little shit

Del: Brandy kitchen

Grandad enters kitchen

Rodney: Ruined Xmas for us.

Del: It'll be normal once Grandad pops back in from the kitchen

Grandad enters

Grandad: Del Boy! I've burnt the roast pota'ers

Del: Did you take the giblets and glowworms aht the bag?

Grandad: I didn't need to. It says 'ready-cleaned' on the packaging.

Del: But they shove it back ahp yonder turkey's backside

Grandad: Do they?!

Del: Yes. Oh gaaawd! (Del inspects the turkey's interior) It's like peering into Jaws' arsehole. (To Rodney) Dan't warry. Xmas pud is his forte, in the sense of nausing it ahp.

Grandad: Do you like your burnt-to-a-cinder Chrismoss poddin' rrreaaaally well fucked?

Int. Lounge - evening

Rodney: I don't loike circusesizsses. Very boring. Boringboringboring. If you look at the balcony view you'll realise it is a backdrop as part of the set. BO-RING.

Del: Oi-yeeeh! Pack-it-in! We are watchin' the Sahnd of Music with Grandad. OAPs would love to watch a film wiv a bitta camp'ny.

Rodney: I'm gettin' trollied at the Monte Carlo. I am

Del: You not.

Grandad: I am wearing a scarf and coat. Off dahn to the Old Folk's B-Boy Contest. See yer. Oh... tell me wha' 'appens to Julie Andrews in the famous film she's in.

Del: Wallycunt! We are goin' down to Monte Carlo

Rodney: Yeaaaah! Get away from the BOOOR-OH-WUH-UH-OR-UH-RINNNNG!

Del: Have a tin of miniature lager while I shower. Enjoy the Sound of Circus.

Int. Monte Carlo Club

Earl is at the bar

Del: Earl or Blonde knock-off Trigger, 'ow's your dad?

Earl: Ohh! Like Tower Bridge.

Del: Yeah, I had a dizzy spell there once.

Earl doesn't laugh

Del: What you wanna do, Earl, is ask the doctor for an'ibio'ics. Don't enunciate the T's. AHN-EE-BY-OH-IKS. I've written it dahn. That is yer Christmas present.

Earl: Thank you, Father Delmas.

Rodney: You're a flash one, intcha? Think you know it all

Del: I'm a peacock.

Rodney: I need no gold bullion! I have my guide book about body language.

Del: I'm a Caribbean yacht. You are South End Pier sinking into the blue depths

Rodney: Del, them womens looked at us. Chat 'em up.

Del: No, you have a go.

Rodney impersonates Robocop after a few tequilas

Del: OI! SOPPY CUNT! CAHM 'ERE!

Rodney: I like to kill you sometimes, I really do!

Del: The prannying fuck was that appendage lisp about?

Rodney: It signalled vuh-rih-loh-tay. Here comes Rodney Trotter

Del: More like my trahsiz are back-to-front like a cunt.

Rodney glances at the attractive women

Rodney: Del! They've j-

Del: Alrigh', here's das plan - I get the DJ to announce that our Ferrari is blockin' the entrance. Then I sway my keys all contrived an' we pop ahtside forra bit.

Rodney: We'd have to pay to get back in. Furthermore, let's say you chatted the women up, 'ow are we going to explain the 'Ferrari' with three wheels?

Del: Just say it's a prototype. If you hear anythin' about concorde pilots or astrah turf, don't sahnd so surprise by the little rehash of Go West Young Man.

The attractive women suddenly stand up and embrace two men who approached them within a few seconds

Del: Dipstick!

Del suavely approaches a table of two bland women

Del: Excuse me, distinctly average-looking ladies, are you going to get your coats on to go home?

They nod

Del: Good. The only thing you've pulled is your muscle on the way aht. (To Rodney) Let's sit down, Rodders.

Rodney: Oh cuntsmic. Cunts-fucking-mic!

End Theme

Glebe

'Diamonds are for Thicker Christmas Crackers', heh!



"Oil make y'sam brickfost, san!"

DangledTeeth

#29


Delvid: Greetings, Foolslings. It is I, David Jason of the Argusnuts, here yet again to present a short episode in order to reach Page 2 so that the next post is at the top. Why's that? Well, Genius Danglers read a revered novel and bought the film adaptation; it was towards the end of the latter he noticed Roger Lloyd Pack. And the title of the first OFAH episode is a (sort of) character mentioned throughout both. I won't reveal what it is as I don't wanna spoil the surprise, but you're probably wondering: ''How's he going to merge the plot and characters of Nineteen Eighty-four in with elements of the episode Big Brother?'. Well, it works on so many levels - don't think about it too much, otherwise you'll think of a funnier parody. It appears there's 30 posts to a page and this is number 30. Lavvly jabbly. OFAH - 1981 tomorrow or Sunday. In the meantime, enjoy Factor UXD


Int. Trotters' Flat

Del and Rodney enter with a box and Albert becomes intrigued

Albert: Wassat you go' there, sahn?

Del: Denzil's just dona'ed these dolls to me. Flog 'em dahn the market to the mums an' we'll be quids in.

Rodney raises a deflated 'life-size' doll from the box

Rodney: Erm, Del, Denzil didn't mention anything about their physical specifications.

Del: He said they were a delivery of dolls. Why?

Del turns and appears horrified

Del: Gordon Bennett! It's a fuck-balloon.

Rodney: You wanna read the names of 'em: Anal Anna, Big Tits Betty, Slutty Simone.

Del: You can't 'ave names like thaa-aat.

Rodney: You can if you go to the righ' places, Del.

Albert: Wha' are they used for?

Del: As a buoyancy aid in a swimming lesson. What do you think, Albert?

Rodney: You can buy them from magazines.

Albert: Yah?! Where's the Radio Times - saold at all newsagents and good retailers for one pahnd twen'y.

Rodney: No, not in TV listings. I'm talkin' about magazines used as a means of personal gratification, like the one that's poking out of my back pocket.

Albert: You're pulling my leg!

Rodney: Oh, am I? (Rodney reaches into his back pocket) See, I have got a magazine wedged into my jean's pocket.

Albert looks at a page

Albert: 'e's righ' an' all, Del. (To Rodney) Why is there a circle drawn arahnd an £8.99 vibra'er?

Rodney swipes the mag

Rodney: A surprise for Cassandra's birthday.

Del: Ugly mares, ain't they. Chuck 'em be'ind the drinks cab'net for naow.

Albert: Ar'll pu' the thermaostat on as it's nippier than ahr guests, jast ta woam our cockles.

Int. Lounge - Later in the evening

Noise: Pfffvvvff!

Del: Wha' is that farny noise?!

Albert: Dan't look at me.

Rodney: A considerable volume of miasma tends to derive from your arsehole.

Del: Wai' a sec, it sounds like it's comin' from over here.



They all rush to the entrance hall door

Albert: Don't pull the door shut when I attempt to open it.

Del, Rodney and Albert stand in the entrance hall

Del: This reminds me of the final scene of The Second Time Around - the one about my ex Pauline who's after life insurance money. We all came back here - (Nods at Albert) well, Grandad did - after staying at Aunt Rose's cottage, then we were stood in this very hallway expecting a re-enactment of Psycho in a tower block. This time it's Si-Co... in a tower block.

Del pokes his head through a gap of the door

POP!

Del: Oh, look, another Simon has inflated. (To Albert) That's you mentioning the Radio Times.

Albert: Wha'!?

Rodney: Self-inflatin'. Activa'ed by heat. They must have been fitted with the wrong canisters. Fuck's sake! Let me burst it with your lit cigar.

Del: No! What would our dear Mother say?!

Rodney: Speakin' of Mum, let's hide them in her wardrobe.

Del: Thassit! Mum's the answer to our problem.

Rodney: We ain't gonna sit by her grave and pray for them to floa' away?

Del: No. It's Mum's claothes.

Rodney: Oh no, we ain't dressin' them up. Speaking of Psycho, we'll be thrown in the Norman Bates Wing.

Del: Eh?! No, I was thinkin' we coulda tarted ourselves ahp as a coupla 1960s throwbacks so that nobody would recognise us as we stuff 'em in our distinctive yellow van then take 'em to Dirty Barry's shop. But your idea is jubbly cushty.

Int. Nags Head

Denzil sprints in

Denzil: Mike! Is your phone weurking?

Boycie: Realistic laughter as I speak, 'is your phone working'. It's just as well I've chuckled at this line as I doubt most of the audience would detect any humour behind the implication that Mike's pub and all its devices are usually mediocre.

Mike: The telephone line had some trouble a few days ago and it's still being fixed. Why?

Denzil: Del has these dolls filled with a gas called propane. I thought nothin' of it as they came from a company called Toy Factor, a subsidiary of Britain's Got Toys. I didn't know until I watched the news as I ordered a beef curry and chow mein.

Mike: That's explosive.

Denzil: Yes, a Chinese takeaway could play havoc with my bowels. And Del's got some inflatable time bombs on his hands. If they blow up, the A-Z will need to be updated, altered and redone.

Denzil runs off

Trigger: Terrible news, innit.

Mike and Boycie collapse into silent laughter and crawl along the floor and try to grasp the edge of a table

Mike: Oh, gotta catch my breath. HAH-HAH-HAH!

Boycie: The thought of the Trotters blowing up, including the damage and devastation inflicted on their neighbours. Ha-agh-egh-egh-agh-egh!

Trigger: I disapprove. Look at the expression on my face.

Ext. Flat's Landing

Del and Rodney walk arm in arm with the two dolls dressed in 60s-era clothing

Rodney (Whispers): I'm gonna kill yaou.

Mr Cooper: Good evening, Simon.

Del (Throws voice): Oh, that was the mossst hideoussss audition I have ever heard.

Albert tentatively approaches the van

Albert: I'm not insured.

Rodney (Snarled whisper): You're only gonna reverse a few feet, y'cunt. (To Del) That's me done. I'm off for a burger and chips with Cassandra.

Del and Albert drive away as Denzil's van glides into view

Int. Dirty Barry's Emporium

Del: You are gonna get a bargain, Barry.

Barry: No, the business is in ruins. Maggie Thatcher.

Albert: I look like a mid-2000s 'ooligan with my duffel 'ood ahp.

Int. Restaurant

Rodney: That was a cosmic quar'er pounder and chips, Cass.

Cassandra: Goodnight, Roddy. And watch out for any unexploded inflatable dolls.

Rodney: The what?

Cassandra: I saw it on the news. There's these creepy dolls people can buy from specialist retailers

Rodney: Yes, I have read about them... in Del's Financial Times.

Cassandra: They were wrongly fitted with an explosive gas. We shouldn' lau-

Rodney (Falsely): Auuh-heh-uh-hah-hah. No, we shouldn't laugh. Listen erm, I've gotta go, Cassandra. I don't feel well.

Waiter: I'm very concerned, sir. Are you okay?

Rodney: Naoh, I'm alright. I just feel... sick. I'll phone ya. Not you, mate. I meant my girlfriend.

Ext. Flat's Landing

Del and Rodney convey the dolls to the van while they spray them with water

Del: You better be righ' about this, Rodney.

Rodney: Right?! Wrong would be a lot safer.

Del: Yes, I knaow thaa-aat, but this coulda been a big earna for us.

Ext. Industrial Area

Del and Rodney dispose of the dolls in a hole

A huddle of vagrants look at Del and Rodney with suspicion

Del: Just droppin' 'em off haome.

Del and Rodney walk away

Del: Them things better not be filled with Pasquale gas, cause I cer'ainly won't be laughin' in a high-pitched v-

BOOM!

Del (To Vagrants): Taold 'em not to have the prawn vindaloo.

Int. Van

Del: Mum's watching over us. Shame 'er clothes were reduced to cinders.

Noise: Pffffvvvfpp!

Del: That burger an' chips is workin' through ya.