Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - Dead Ringers - 8th July

Episode Date: August 5, 2022

Topical satire show, featuring characters drawn from the worlds of celebrity and politics.

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. Hello, I'm Robin Ince. Sat next to me is Brian Cox and we are back with a new series of The Infinite Monkey Cage. What are we doing on this series? We're going to cover bats versus flies, the wood wide web, black holes, deep oceans, earth from space, how to teach maths and how brains communicate. We've got Sarah Pascoe on, we've got Chris Hadford on, Nick Holstott, Hannah Fry, there's a lot going on.

The new series of the Infinite Monkey Cage podcast. Listen first on BBC Sounds. People of Britain, this was your Prime Minister. What the hell just happened? As I tender my resignation, I'd like to pay tribute to my Tory colleagues. I'd like to, but they're a bunch of chinless, toady bastards who only turned on me when I went full Ceausescu. But hey, them's the breaks. I think it's important at this moment to reflect on my achievements. Breaking the economy, starving the north, undermining your faith in politics and killing more pensioners than you can shake a copy of the Daily Express at. I went into public life because I wanted to

dedicate my life to self-service. And I am satisfied that I've always put myself first. And I thought you knew that. Look, you lot voted for me in droves in 2019. Seriously, is it just now that you realise I'm not a decent, straight-up kind of guy? You're not exactly Columbo on the uptake, are you? You loved me, remember? Good old Bozza.

Fwa! The bloke you could go down the pub with and have a drink as he shagged your missus and the gents. Who the hell did you think you were voting for? You knew I'd been sacked for lying from every job I've ever had. And I was about as useful being Foreign Secretary as a beanbag filled with custard. So, yes, I've finally resigned. You would think everyone was bloody ecstatic about it,

the way the BBC News cut to the Ewoks on their home planet dancing in celebration. Dead Ringers! APPLAUSE You're listening to Today with me, Martha Carney. And me, Nick Robinson. It has been an astonishing week. The Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, has announced he will resign. He was finally lured out of Number 10 with a packet of Watsits, a copy of Razzle and a laminated photo of Margaret Thatcher.

Johnson's decision to stay as caretaker Prime Minister has been criticised by many. John Major among them. No, this is not acceptable. No, we've had enough of the Boris circus and we need to get back to doing what the Conservatives do best, extramarital sex. Many MPs expressed interest in being the new leader, though Matt Hancock ruled himself out

by being Matt Hancock. The week began what seems like three months ago now, with Boris Johnson insisting he knew nothing about allegations against disgraced former Deputy Chief Whip Chris Pinscher. The Pinscher affair was course, only the latest in a long line of Tory sex scandals. Nick spoke about this to the Deputy Prime Minister, Dominic Raab. Mr Raab, you know things are bad when you start getting Tory MPs whose name is the same as their peccadillo. With respect, Nick,

the fact that this individual was accused of inappropriate touching and happens to be called Pincher is just an unfortunate coincidence. And what I would say... No, no, I'm going to interrupt you there because we have breaking news about another sex scandal, accusations of indecent exposure against the Conservative MP Sir Quentin Williwaver.

Right, and that's another unfortunate coincidence. And we're also hearing allegations of public obscenity against yet another Tory MP, the Right Honourable Rupert Hanshandy. Right, look, there's clearly an issue here, and that's why I've asked a leading Conservative peer to launch a full investigation, and I'm confident that when Lord Donkeyshagger comes back with his opinion... LAUGHTER

..we'll have a much clearer picture. In the days that followed, there was a torrent of resignations leading to concerns that Boris Johnson would struggle to fill the vacant ministerial posts. I'll just go through the list of recent appointments. My new Welsh secretary is Nadine Dorries. Justice Minister Nadine Dorries. Environment Minister Nadine Dorries. And the remaining 47 posts will be filled by someone I highly admire, Dylan my dog. He adores pissing on lampposts,

much like me with the Tory party. But then it was the BBC's Chris Mason who exclusively broke the big news to Radio 4 listeners. In fact, Downing Street is calling me right now, so I'm going to take the call if that's OK. OK, Martha, I can confirm that Dylan, the Prime Minister's dog, has resigned with immediate effect. Do we know what pushed him over the edge? I think there was just a feeling around his camp

that he couldn't in any good conscience stay with the Prime Minister and still be a good boy. And did he make his feelings known to the Prime Minister at all? Hard to say, although apparently he walked into Boris Johnson's office and curled out a large turd right on the carpet. I've got no idea what that means in dog language. I think we can take a guess. The anger of the Tory party came to a head on Tuesday night

with the shocked double resignation of Health Secretary Sajid Javid and Chancellor Rishi Sunak. Javid left citing concerns about integrity while Rishi Sunak quit to spend more time with his money. Then late Wednesday night came the bombshell news that Michael Gove had been fired, sadly not followed by the words, into the sun.

And Michael Gove joins me now. People say Boris's main problem was being a liar, but he's always been honest with me. Before sacking me, he called me a snivelling, slimy, treacherous little snake, which is 100% true. In fact, he calls me that most days. Luckily, before Govey, Govey, Govey was so cruelly chucked on the scrap heap, I completed my task of levelling up Britain, job done.

Oh, really? You've levelled up Britain? Yes, every single person in the North now hates Boris Johnson just as much as every single person in the South. Incredibly, it was just three years ago that Boris Johnson was ruthlessly stabbing trees of May in the back. You may think that seeing Boris Johnson totally humiliated would give me joy, that seeing Boris Johnson totally humiliated would give me joy, that seeing Boris driven from office like a petty dictator

would give me untold pleasure. Well, all I can say in response to that is, oh, oh, oh! I'll have what she's having. Covid now, and amid the latest surge surge infection rates have risen to the highest levels yet seen for a summer month. We can talk now to that one annoying friend who's managed to avoid Covid the entire pandemic. Hi Martha so you heard then about my little clean sheet about two and a bit years not so much as a sniffle. Yes I did. 27 months, three weeks, six days.

I don't know maybe like I've got a really powerful immune system or I'm just like that much healthier and like cleaner, the more hygienic than other people. I don't know like what it is, but it just might like, you know, maybe I'm just like special. Yes, or maybe the virus just can't bear the thought of being inside such a smug git. Yeah, it could be that.

And some lighter news now. A cinema chain has banned children from coming to see Minions, The Rise of Gru, wearing formal suits. An angry parent joins me now. This is disgraceful discrimination. My 12 children have all worn suits since conception. So they're not doing it as part of a viral TikTok craze? This has nothing to do with grandfather clocks.

My children are doing it as part of a Debrets craze, which began in 1932. How dare these cinemas deny my heavily suited offspring the opportunity to see a hapless cartoon villain with aspirations to rule the world. Gru so reminds them of daddy. Animal rights groups were furious when Piers Morgan began his talk tv show on Wednesday night carrying a pig. What's that fat swine doing in a tv studio everybody? Presumably because Rupert Murdoch pays him seven million a year to host the show. in a TV studio, everybody.

Presumably because Rupert Murdoch pays him seven million a year to host the show. There now follows a message from Her Majesty the Queen. Good day to you all. This is all a bit of a clusterfudge, isn't it? So, Boris has resigned, but he's still in bloody number 10. Gives me a renewed sympathy for my son Charles. Now I know what it's like, grinding my teeth, checking the news, waiting for someone to abdicate.

I hear Boris has been holed up in number 10 for so long, Julian Assange started a petition. But chill, subjects. Don't you worry about me, your madge has got this. I was sorting out prime ministers when he was in nappies at a stag do in Corfu in 2016. Perhaps we should get a stand-in as PM. I met a lovely chap just the other day. Paddington, his name was.

But in any case, there is a strict protocol in place for a PM who doesn't take the hint it's time to bugger off. First, Charles distracts him with some shiny jewels. Then I dead-leg the bastard. Black Rod coshes him, and Anne shoves his lifeless body into a suitcase which is then dumped into the serpentine by the band of the Grenadier Guards Cushti! Job done, Queen out

You're listening to The World at One with me, Sarah Montagu It has been a truly extraordinary week in Parliament and I'm joined now by one of the men who set the ball rolling, Sajid Javid. Nice to be with you, Sarah, but not that nice, obviously, because I still have a heavy heart. From when you resigned as Health Secretary? With a heavy heart, yes. Yes, yes, so you said. Yeah, it was a heavy heart. It was such a heavy heart that, in fact, it felt less like a human organ, Sarah, and more like a cannonball. And at what point exactly did your heart become so heavy? A couple of days ago, maybe, which is strange because when I was serving in Johnson's cabinet

and the Prime Minister tried to, well, change the rules to protect Owen Paterson or refuse to sack Priti Patel for bullying or unlawfully prorogued Parliament or undermined its own ethics... ..or falsely accused Keir Starmer of failing to prosecute Jimmy Savile or lied to the country again, again and again about lockdown parties in Downing Street,

my heart was light as a feather. But when I read about the latest opinion polls, my heart acquired this sudden heft. Go figure. And did you expect your resignation to trigger so many others? Of course. Speaking as the son of a bus driver, I know that resignations from Boris Johnson's government are just like the buses.

You wait ages and then 73 come at once. Hello, I'm Andrew Neil. This is what a man looks like when he buys his hair from Screwfix. Tonight on the Andrew Neil Show, I'm speaking to the Labour leader, Sir Keir Starmer. Sir Keir, what do you make of the chaos unfolding in the Conservative Party in the wake of Boris Johnson's resignation? Well, it's a sorry state of affairs, Andrew. It really is. Everyone jockeying for position. There doesn't seem to be anyone they trust to take over. Quite an opportunity for you, then. Well, absolutely, which is why tonight I want to hereby officially announce my bid to be the new leader of the Conservative Party.

Well, this is a surprise. Not really, Andrew. My views on everything from Brexit to the economy are pretty much in line with the government, so I thought I might as well throw my hat into the ring and lead a party that actually wants to be in power. Not on my watch you don't. Yes, I know, would you mind? Yes, I would mind actually, Andrew, you ginger honey monster. Here you are again, Angela, bursting in on another one of my interviews to tell me off for being insufficiently socialist.

That's not why I'm napped with you, Keogh. I'm going to be the next Tory leader, not you. Angela Rayner, leader of the Conservative Party? Totally. Since my trip to Glyndebourne last week, I've realised I am in fact 100% Tory scum. Do you seriously think that Tory party members will vote for you to be leader of this country? Well, it's going to be either me or Jeremy Hunt, so what do you think?

Congratulations, Prime Minister. You're watching BBC One, and now as the Large Hadron Collider at CERN reopens, the BBC makes a desperate attempt to make science fun. You're watching BBC One, and now as the Large Hadron Collider at CERN reopens, the BBC makes a desperate attempt to make science fun. Wow, I'm Greg Wallace, and it's in my contract to say wow every ten seconds and wear a hairnet for no reason. I'm stood next to the biggest Hadron Collider I've ever seen. Professor, why do they call it the Large Hadron Collider?

That's bloody enormous. Well, it's approximately 27 kilometres in circumference. Wow, that is some serious girth. Now, what are you looking for with all this massive bit of kit? Well, yes, we are looking for what is known as... Here, I can see stuff moving around. It's like a big bowl of kit. Well, yes, we're looking for what is known as... Here, I can see stuff moving around. It's like a big bowl of noodles. Yes, those are the newly discovered tetraquarks and pentaquarks. Wow, that's so many quarks. Amazing. What's a quark? In layman's terms, they're essentially...

Bored now? What's this big button do? I love pushing big buttons. No, no, don't touch anything. But I'm Greg Wallace. When I visit biscuit factories, I always have a go on something. No, no, no, no. The collider is not currently stable. Engaging now could threaten the end of existence as we know it. No one tells me I can't push a button. Gosh!

It's not all... Wait! Oh, wait. Look, the particles. They are colliding in a way we have never seen before. Wow! Could it be the missing particle? I never thought I would see the day.

It's so beautiful. It looks like a tiny quaver. Don't mind if I do. Wow, that is tasty. Proper nice. Got any more? Oh, no. You should not have done that.

You have destroyed the fabric of time and space. No! What I really loved about the Large Hadron Collider was seeing how everyone worked with such speed and precision. And I may have ended the universe as we know it or something and be flowing through an endless void, but at least I had a right big laugh along the way. Plus a bit of a munch.

Till next week, assuming all of this stuff sorts itself out somehow, I'll be at Pringles factory, finding out how to get all them big thin crisps into that little tube without breaking them. See ya. Hello and welcome to Peston. So the Prime Minister has finally agreed to resign and I'm delighted to say we've secured a rare joint interview with Boris Johnson and his still loyal admirer, Nadine Dorries.

Good evening. Sorry, Mr Johnson, you're mumbling. Miss Dorries, what is going on? The reason my glorious and wonderful leader can't be understood is that a couple of days ago his tongue decided, in all good conscience it couldn't continue to be associated with him. Quit. Your own tongue, Mr Johnson. Yeah, it was an absolutely treacherous move by his tongue

and I say that as one who's admired Boris's tongue very much over the years. And I say that as one who's admired Boris's tongue very much over the years. Oops, gosh, and there go his legs. And his arms. And now, yes, even Boris's arse is too disgusted to be associated with it. All that's left is a hideous bloody husk. Yeah, but he's my hideous bloody husk. Hello and welcome back to the Women's Euros on the BBC with me, Gabby Logan.

And it's been a great start for England with a massive crowd gathered to watch the exciting... They're in here, lads. What on earth? Sorry, were they, Gabby? Where do you want us to sit? Gary, I'm hosting the coverage of the Euros and Alan, Rio, you're not on the presenters' lists either. Which is exactly why we came. Just in the nick of time, I see, it's been 20 seconds and not one of you girls has uttered anything remotely idiotic.

Sorry, are you dissing our commentators? Gabby, surely you've realised why the women's Euros don't get as many viewers as the men's? Yeah, of course, because of the historic neglect of women's sport by the broadcasters. No, no, no, it's nothing to do with that. It's because the post-match analysis ain't moronic enough. It doesn't

lose itself in a murky maelstrom of the mind-numbingly inane. Isn't that right, Rio? Ten to the power of five over a hundred. See what I mean? Alan's right, Gabby. People love our gibberish. Just hold on a second.

Maybe football commentary shouldn't need to be full of the mind-numbingly inane in the first place. Gabby, that's the single most ridiculous imbecilic statement I've heard all day.

Lads, I think she's getting the hang of it. You're watching Sky Breakfast with me, Kay Burley. It's already clear that Boris Johnson is going to be like the man who gets sacked but still leaves for work every day and eats his sandwiches in the park. Number 10 is still managing to find hapless junior ministers to defend him for some unfathomable reason. I'm joined by one of the dregs now, called, my card just reads, man. Please don't hurt me, Kay.

Are you sure you're an actual government minister? I think so. So, what's your name? Well, let's not get bogged down in details. As you see, I'm wearing a bad suit, I'm white as a sheet and I don't have a leg to stand on. Definitely a government minister. So, how can Boris Johnson have a leg to stand on. Definitely a government minister. So, how can

Boris Johnson have the nerve to stay on as caretaker Prime Minister given we've had Partygate, two appalling by-election results, the pincher debacle... Oh, it seems the Junior Minister has melted. Can we get another one in?

Alright, Kay. Who are you? I'm Keith Davies. I've just been appointed Junior Education Minister. That was quick. Oh, you're telling me. I only started working here last Tuesday, and I was a window cleaner. Keith's windows, no glass too splotchy.

But then some bean counter legs it, and no-one else fancies a gig, and here I am. So the new Junior Education minister is a window cleaner? Well, not just any window cleaner, come on. I'm actually known as the squeegee king of whitehall. So how does it feel, being a government minister? Ah, you know how it is. One minute you're buffing the upper sash of the downstairs bogs,

the next thing you're in charge of the GCSE syllabus, you know? Speaking of which, do you know anything about Oxbow Lakes? This is the Six O'Clock News with me, Hugh Edwards, or should I say few Edwards? What a day that was. I'm joined now by Priti Patel. Well, I agree, Hugh. When you're in government, like what I do, you don't see government days like this very often in government. I gather you were one of the cabinet ministers who told Boris Johnson he should resign and become a journalist again. Well, yes.

I tell everyone they should go back to where they came from. But then you actually chose to stay in the cabinet. Because I couldn't resist the great opportunity to strengthen my Rwanda deportation plan. We had this sudden chronic shortage of ministers, so I spoke to all the Tory backbenchers and gave them a stark choice. Either get shipped off to Rwanda or become a Secretary of State in Boris Johnson's government. They couldn't get on the plane fast enough. We interrupt this broadcast for a national address from First Minister Mark Drakeford.

Citizens of Wales, I come to you with an apology. As I was watching the mass resignations over Boris Johnson's misconduct, I realised I could no longer hold my tongue over my own indiscretions. Recently, it has become known that at a March Hustings in Aberystwyth, I double dipped a carrot stick in the communal hummus. As you know, I sincerely apologised and prayed that we could all move on together. But now I must address allegations that earlier this year I picked up a pack of digestives in the big Asda, then got to the nibbles aisle and decided I fancied some chocolate

Brazils instead, but couldn't be bothered to go back to the biscuit aisle. So just tucked the bickies behind the salted cashews and left the shelf stackers to deal with it. As a result of these failures, I shall be doing the right thing and stepping down from my post. See, Boris? Wasn't hard, was it?

Why's it take you so long, you bloody cowardly hog of a man? You're listening to PM with Evan Davis. My head is real, my body is all motion capture. So Boris Johnson has resigned and the race to replace him has begun. I'm joined now by Liz Truss. Let's begin with, will you be running for the leadership? Well, Evan, I won't be drawn on my position because what I need to do is rise above the fray.

I see. I need to rise above the fray and concentrate on more important things. You mean the situation in Ukraine? No, I mean finding out what fray means. Fray? Yes, fray. I know I've got to rise above it, but I don't know what it is I've got to rise above. Because I've heard of fray bentos, but I don't think rising above a pie sounds quite right. Actually, it means a battle or a conflict, as in you're rising above the conflict.

Oh, right, that makes a lot of sense. Fray is conflict. And I think the thing to do is watch the fray from afar and when the fray dies down, come in and say, we've had enough fray, no more fray, do you hear? And then we'll all celebrate with some pies. It's OK, you can come out from behind the sofa. Uncle Hugh is here.

I've got the news under control for now, so there'll be no more shocks, I promise. Oh, no, I was so wrong, so terribly wrong, like the teenager leading the kids into the basement in a horror movie. The news is still happening. There's been yet another resignation and we can cross now live to Westminster

where the new chief whip, Boris Johnson, only appointed eight minutes ago, has resigned. It is with great sadness I announce my f***ing resignation. Ozzy, Ozzy, do you think enough due diligence was done on your background and character for this job? Too f***ing right it was. I told the PM,

give me that bloody whip and I'll sort the dirty bastards out. But there was no whip. And he didn't mind that you were the Prince of Darkness? No, he said he missed having Dominic Cummings around. Why are you resigning, Ozzy? Because I thought I could handle the debauched rock and roll lifestyle of being a Tory MP. But it was too much booze, too much rough sex and too many wild parties.

The Tory party makes Black Sabbath in the 70s look like the f***ing Partridge family. Sorry, mate, but I'm too old for this crap. I'm off. So what are you going to do now, Ozzy? I'm going to get a new job. Sharon has loads of dog crap for me to clean up around the house. And that's a job with more self-respect

than being in the Tory f***ing whips office. I'd respect them being in the Tory whips office. Welcome to Wimbledon. So as this year's tournament draws to a close, we've been reflecting on 100 years of Centre Court by continually asking players what Wimbledon means to them, like it's some insane loyalty test. Roger Federer, what does Wimbledon mean to you? Well, Sue, ever since I was a little boy, I looked into the skies and wondered,

would I ever set foot in Wimbledon? For me, it was like Camelot, a magical world of balls and grass and strawberries. Okay, that'll do. Bjorn Borg, what does Wimbledon mean to you? Well, Sue, it means more to me than anything. I have given instructions that I be buried under centre court. That's happening next week because I want to be alive when the glorious soil that has been touched with so much tennis history is poured over my head. A bit creepy, but good enough.

Tim Henman, what does Wimbledon mean to you? Oh, it means so much to me, Sue. The history, the legacy, the atmosphere. Obviously, I've had some pretty tough moments at Wimbledon over the years as well. So Wimbledon doesn't mean everything to you? No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying I've had mixed fortunes here.

Blasphemer! Eliminate the blasphemer! What? No. Remove Henman. He will take the walk of shame and be pelted by oversized tennis balls autographed by John Lloyd. Andy Murray, what does Wimbledon mean to you? Yeah, it's all right.

Blimey. A bit over the top. Dead Ringers was performed by John Coleshaw, Lewis MacLeod, Jan Ravens, Deborah Stevenson and Duncan Wisby. The writers were Nev Fountain and Tom Jameson, Lawrence Hath, Ed Amson and Tom Coles, Edward Chew, Cameron Lockstair, Peter Toulouche and Sarah Campbell. It was a BBC Studios production and the producer and creator was Bill Dare. Only at Wendy's. It's ooey, gooey, and just five bucks with a small coffee all day long.

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