Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - Dead Ringers - Christmas Specials 2020 - Episode 1

Episode Date: December 11, 2020

Topical satire from Jon Culshaw, Jan Ravens, Lewis McLeod, Debra Stephenson and Duncan Wisbey. The writing squad for the series: Tom Jamieson and Nev Fountain, Laurence Howarth, Sarah Campbell, Ed Amsden and Tom Coles, James Bugg, Jeffrey Aidoo, Alex Hardy. Producer: Bill Dare. A BBC Studios ProductionDownload the best satirical comedy from Radio 4, every Friday. Features The News Quiz, The Now Show and Dead Ringers.

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. All day long. Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th. Terms and conditions apply. BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. People of Britain, this is your Prime Minister. Like Lucius Priscus, fresh from the Battle of Trier in 588 BC, I have returned from Brussels with glorious news. I achieved nothing. And don't think that was easy. After all, us Brexiteers have been telling you since 2016, this was the easiest deal in history. We held all the cards. Mr. Bun the baker, Mrs. Chip the carpenter's wife, and and Mr Delirium Tremens the landlord.

Now this united kingdom can prosper mightily as we embrace all the positives that no deal has to offer. Positive that we're going to be stuck in 50 mile tailbacks by a lorry park in Kent on the way to Calais. Positive roaming charges will be back for next year's summer holidays. And positive that the shelves will be empty come January. Cut loose from the shackles of EU tyranny, we're free to cut swashbuckling trade deals with the likes of the Falklands, Guernsey, the Faroe Islands, and that place Borat comes from. Result!

Never let it be said that looking like a mohair sweater that's been accidentally put in a hot wash never got you anything. This is Dead Ringers. Whatever tier you're in. You're listening to Today with Martha Carney and Nick Robinson. In Washington, President-elect Joe Biden laid out what would be his top priorities when he takes over in January. They are not being Donald Trump, not being Donald Trump and not being Donald Trump.

Feels pretty good, don't it? Meanwhile, in Wales, Mark Drakeford has admitted more needs to be done to stem a surge in coronavirus cases. Oh yes, that's it. No more Mr Nice Guy. I'm no longer going to politely ask the coronavirus if it wouldn't mind terribly leaving Wales. No, I'm going to jolly well insist. That's right. Oh dear, might need to have a sit down now. All that power's gone right to my head. It was revealed that after January 1st,

firms would be hit with £7 billion of extra paperwork. Jacob Rees-Mogg. What wonderful news. As well be insisting that it is decent, upstanding British paper and not any of that flimsy foreign muck. Brexit really is the gift which keeps on giving. If the Prime Minister does manage to strike a trade deal with the EU this weekend, we still have no idea whether the Labour Party will support it.

I'm joined now by the shallow Cabinet Minister, Rachel Reeves. Nick, we are the opposition and it is our job to oppose. So you'll vote against the deal? Absolutely not, Nick, and that would be deeply irresponsible as it would lead to a disastrous cliff-edge Brexit. Right, so you're going to abstain? Absolutely not, Nick. For the Labour Party not to take a view on it is unthinkable. What will you do then? Hide. Russians who've been offered the Sputnik 5 vaccine have been told they cannot drink alcohol for 56 days. Most decided to go ahead with the shots, starting with vodka, then moving on to tequila and absinthe. My Jella Lawson was ridiculed on Twitter after this clip from this week's episode of Cook, Eat, Repeat went viral.

You also need some full-fat milk, which I've heated in the microwave. Though a fellow chef and mentor of Nigella in her early days leapt to her defence. Hey, what's so weird about the way Nigella says microwave? But the big news of the week was the arrival of the day we have all hoped and prayed for, V-Day. Just after 6.30am on Tuesday, Margaret Keenan became the first person in the world to receive the Pfizer coronavirus vaccine. Moments later, she told reporters she felt no adverse side effects whatsoever as she flapped her wings and flew home. Anti-vaxxers on Facebook had been spreading conspiracy theories that the pandemic and vaccines are all part of a sinister master plan by Bill Gates to control and track us. He joins us now on the line from California. Bill, just utterly ludicrous, isn't it? No, not at all. What do you mean? Of course, I masterminded all of it. The pandemic

outbreak, the creation of the vaccines, all for this moment, so I could finally know exactly what was going on in Margaret's head and track her every move. I know now that on every other Thursday, her friend Daphne picks her up and they go for a pot of tea and a scone in that nice cafe opposite Morrison's. It was all worth it just for this moment to see inside the mind of a little old lady. Ah, this is the power I've dreamt of my whole life. So what's the next thing for Bill Gates to achieve? I was thinking of making a giant version of the nutty purple quality street chocolate. They've done that? They have? Oh, that makes me sad. This is Kay Burley here with Sky News, news round in big boy pants. Another high profile Covid idiot has broken the lockdown rules. Let's go

live to our correspondent Beth Rigby. Yes, Beth Rigby here. I'm outside the house of Beth Rigby, but unfortunately there's no sign of Beth Rigby. I also tried to speak to one of her rule flouting colleagues, Kay. And who was that, Beth? A woman called Kay Burley. No sign of her either. Rumours say she's recording a single with Rita Ora. This is Beth Rigby outside the home of Beth Rigby. Back to you, Kay. Thanks, Beth. Well, that's all from me till the new year. I'm off for my holidays in Barnard Castle.

Hello and welcome to The Andrew Marr Show. Face it, it's me or watch Tim Lovejoy on Sunday brunch. With Brexit negotiations going down to the wire, I'm joined by EU Commissioner Ursula von der Leyen to shed light on why the deal is taking so long. Yes, thank you, Andrew. There's nothing we want more than to find an agreement which works for both Britain and the EU. But sadly, we have hit a language barrier. But you speak perfect English. English, yes. But these negotiations are mainly conducted in a language none of us understand.

Which is? Boris. We speak many languages in Brussels, but this Boris is unlike any we have encountered before and it is very complicated for us. How so? Well, we Europeans are very straight and to the point. But Boris, it uses 17 words where we Europeans would just say, I have no idea what I'm doing. We must learn to understand it fast because currently it is like we are negotiating with a rock or a particularly stupid dog. So you're not confident about striking a deal by Sunday? Well, Andrew, as we speak, we have been unable to discern

what blah, blah, foie, wazza, wazza, wazza actually means. Even Dutch isn't this ridiculous. We just wanted to stop. Four years of this, Andrew. Four bloody interminable years. We're so exhausted. He promised you an oven-ready deal

and he forgot to turn the oven on. It's like breaking up with a bad boyfriend and four years on, you're still arguing whether the painting in the hallway was a gift from his parents or yours. For the love of God, just leave. Leave!

You can have the Fleetwood Mac CDs and the piano that was a gift from my mother, actually. Please, please, please, for the love of God, just leave and let us get on with our lives, you stupid utter bastard. But yes, I still think there is a good chance of getting a good deal on Sunday. Hello, President-elect Kamala Harris speaking. Kamala, it's Joe.

Hey, don't you mean Vice President-elect? Oh, Joe, silly. That's what I said. Are you holding the phone upside down again? Um, yeah, maybe. Hey's what I said. Are you holding the phone upside down again? Um, yeah, maybe. Hey, what you doing? Oh, nothing. Just cabinet nominations. Neat. Can I help?

Don't you worry about that. Kamala has it all under control. Hey, have you finished your job yet? Yep. Really? And you found Waldo in every picture? Sure did. And the wizard? Joe?

Ah, damn wizard. That bearded son of a gun. Always blending in. He's like Bin Laden. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time me and Barack found Bin Laden? Yeah, a few times. Did you want something, Joe? Only I'm kind of busy here. You betcha. Now, here's the thing. Our transition team put all your boxes in the Oval Office

and said you told them to put mine down the hall. Huh? Well, there's obviously been some kind of a mistake. My things shouldn't be in there yet. But you know, Joe, why don't we just leave it for now and we can sort out who gets which office nearer the time. How's that? That's great. Sure would save a lot of boo-hicky. Hey, and you know what?

I heard there's an even better room just down the hall. And it's got a J on the door. You mean the janitor's closet? Well, yeah, but no, silly. J stands for Joe. Hey, that's kind of cool. And it's got its own sink, paper towel dispenser, and even one of those trash-picking pincer sticks.

Hey, I could reach everything in the room sitting down. Thanks, Kamala. You're the best. Oh, my pleasure, sweetie. Now, why don't you run along and show Barack your ant farm? Mama's got work to do. You're watching Newsnight with me, Kirsty Wark. You want me? Hey, I want you, baby. My sugar boo, I'm levitating. The Milky Way, we're renegading. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. More on that story later. The UK finally has a working vaccine for the

coronavirus. With me is the Health Secretary, Matt Hancock. And before you go any further, Kirsty, let me just say you're welcome. I'm sorry. There really is no need to thank me, Kirsty. I wasn't going to. Well, good. And besides, the vaccine wasn't all down to me. I didn't say it was. I'd like to thank the scientists, the volunteers in the trials, the NHS. They all chipped in. So this award belongs to them too. What award? Well, anyway, let's just say we're all heroes.

In fact, this really is a triumph for the whole country, Kirsty. A vaccine developed by German-Turkish scientists, financed by the USA and manufactured in Belgium. It makes you proud to be British. Yes. Can I just ask, what's your reaction to all this on a personal level? Well, I'm hoping, hoping it will mean that the good fairy will finally grant my wish and make me into a real boy. That seems unlikely. No, no, no, it's happening. It is happening. I am becoming a real boy capable of expressing normal human feelings.

I'm overcome with emotion. You're not actually crying and you're stabbing yourself with a pair of scissors whilst chopping onions. Come on, tear ducts, you can do this. Come on. I did it. Look, look, an actual human tear. Look at it glistening.

That's varnish. Well, obviously it is varnish. Rome wasn't built in a day. But with a couple of trillion pounds, Serco have promised that I will cry real tears in real terms by 2030. This is Culture Secretary Oliver Dowden at Gingham Tablecloth with media training. I can't speak right now, as I'm busy going back and adding fiction warnings to the phrase oven-ready deal. Good afternoon, Mr. Dowden. This is your queen. Apparently, you've asked Netflix to place a fiction warning on that scandalous soap opera, The Crown. Don't you dare. Thanks to that show,

one has never been so popular. After years of being called a waste of taxpayers' money, I'm being praised for a stunning performance. Last week, a subject emailed to say they loved me in Broadchurch, and when was Peep Show coming back? I don't care if people now think Margaret was married to Tim Burton, or that Thatcher left office to chase aliens in the 90s. ITV are this close to offering me a primetime detective series

with Robson Green. And one's even got a gig on Taskmaster. Get in. Oh, hello, Brian. What are you reading? Well, Eddie, it says here in the paper that the government is instigating a multi-tier lockdown with different levels of what we're allowed to do according to area. Oh, dear. I hope the ball doesn't have to close again. Don't worry, Eddie. It says here the South West is only in tier one. We're fine.

But we're not in the South West, Clary. We're sort of near Bristol. That's in the top tier. No, we're D. We are the south-west. That's why I have this outrageous mummer's accent. Sorry to butt in, Clary, but I totally disagree. Where do you think we are, Linda?

Cheshire. Why do you think I sound like a Mumsnet forum discussing the best schools for Darling Tarquin and Daisy? I thought we were more Hereford way. No, never. Look, you lot, a civilised man like me wouldn't be seen dead near Bristol. Balswichshire is right next to Oxfordshire. Look, you can see it on this map.

Oh, I can't see Ambridge anywhere. Oh, no, It's not here. Oh, dear. This is serious. Jolene, do you know where Ambridge is? No idea. I just sent Kenton across to Midsomer Village to see if D.I. Barnaby knew whereabouts we were. But someone tried to murder him with a motorised scarifier.

Had to be airlifted to Holby City, wherever the hell that is. Well, this is no good. How can we obey the lockdown restrictions if we don't know what tier we're in? Well, I suppose we could just rename the village Walford so we can ignore the lockdown restrictions and do what we like. Yay! Oh, Eddie! Welcome to the repair shop. Yikes! Yay! Well done, Danny!

Welcome to the repair shop. Today the team are about to be presented with a unique challenge. Alright, I'm Jay. Welcome to the repair shop. Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory for Grown-Ups. Alright, what you got for us then? Well, I should warn you that it's in pretty terrible condition. No worries, look, we've seen all kinds in here. Alright, let's have a butcher's then. It's called 2020. Back in January, 2020 was looking so smart and shiny, and I promised that it would be the best year ever. Christ, that turned out to

be about as accurate as my wedding vows, Fwa. Yeah, I see what you mean. 2020, it's a right mess. Somebody has certainly neglected that, hasn't they? I mean, you've got a global pandemic, endless Brexit wranglings, UK on the verge of breaking up. What's that down there? New Christmas single by Robbie Williams. Now somebody's got their work cut out. So do you think you can fix it? OK, well, we'll have a go.

So it's time for Jay to show 2020 to the experts. First, metal worker Dom. Show 2020 to the experts. First, metal worker Dom. Oh, maybe leather worker Susie Fletcher will have some ideas. No, what about carpenter Will? Oh, God, no! Oh, dear.

For the first time ever, the team has been utterly defeated by a task. OK, so how about we get 20-20, take the zero off and put a one on there instead and hope it gets better for you. And now another customer is arriving at the shop. Hi, I'm Dido. I wondered if you might be able to help me with this. It's my track and trace system. You've taken a mick. We're craftspeople, not miracle workers. trace system. You've taken a mick. We're craftspeople, not miracle workers. This is University Challenge COVID Special. Asking the questions, Jeremy Paxman.

Hello, welcome to our COVID special. Joining us this week inside this tightly sealed flat are the pale, haunted figures of Aberdeen University and Brasenose College, Oxford. Let's meet the teams. Hello, I'm... No, not too close. You all look like plague victims to me. Fingers on buzzers. Here's your start of a 10, no conferring. What's the most common injury to afflict first-year students? Prince knows Cavendish. Um, falling down a stairwell, pissed. In any other year, I'd give you that, but in 2020,

it was paper cuts caused by plastering post-it notes with cries for help all over their windows. Next question. What's the likelihood of any of you being allowed to leave your flat for the chance of a shag? Aberdeen Jackson. Three percent. The answer on my card is three percent,

but as you're an engineering student, I'd give it less than zero. Music round now. What do the following have in common? Happy by Pharrell Williams, I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston and... Briggs Knows Harris. Um, they had the most downloads in 2020? No, you were forced to listen to all of them

on a loop while you spent 16 hours trying to book a Covid test after the university website crashed. You lose five points along with any hope you may have had of getting a decent degree after nine months of teaching by Zoom. I want to go home. You're staying here, you big baby. Pay your rent and shut up.

For the final question, I want a show of hands, please. Back in September, if you'd realised the only contact you'd have with another living being would be the rat you discovered in an old pot noodle, how many of you would have stayed at home instead? Yep, all of you. Well, that's all for tonight. I'm off to get my lovely vaccine while you lot will be spending the next three weeks locked in your rooms staring at your velvet underground poster. Good night.

You're listening to The World at One with me, Sarah Montague. Nice being home, isn't it? Not having to listen to bloody Magic FM in the office because Mandy from Accounts insists. Only so much buble anyone can take. The EU and the UK seem to have reached a deal involving Northern Ireland border checks. Michael Gove joins me on the line. And what a fantastic day this is, Sarah. A historic agreement, I'd never doubted for a moment that one side would blink first. Yes, that side being you. How can you say that, Sarah? The fact you caved. You've allowed border checks. Ah, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. You've fallen into the same gove-sized trap the EU

negotiators fell into. I agreed to allow EU officials in Northern Ireland to carry out border inspections, not checks. One nil. Govie, govie, govie. And aren't you concerned that the unionists are incandescent with rage? They feel betrayed. As a matter of fact, I think they will see how this arrangement offers the best of both worlds. In fact, I'm about to meet with some senior unionists here in this boggy field deep in the Derry countryside. A boggy field? Yeah, I was picked up and driven here for high-level talks by some burly chaps in a beat-up old transit van.

Didn't catch their name. Shut your mouth and get down on your knees, traitor. Oh, and put this over your head. Ah, yes, yes, yes, being Covid secure, excellent. But did it really have to be a sack? I mean, a mask would have been sufficient. Michael Gove, thank you. Another great day for the United Kingdom.

Rejoice. Oh, get off. Hello and welcome to Location, Location, Location with me, Kirsty Allsop. Every clichéd evil stepmother rolled into one. I'm here in West Suffolk, where I found the perfect starter home for Wendy. It's got spacious rooms, a lovely garden and friendly neighbours,

one of whom is Health Secretary Matt Hancock. They're bound to be best mates. And in fact, he's already offered Wendy a £30 million contract to provide hospital-grade medical equipment. Now that's what I call a top chum. Hang on, I've never worked in medical supplies in my life. Oh, well, didn't you ever muck about with bits of felt in primary school? Well, yeah, I... Yes, well, then making hospital-grade PPE for the NHS won't be much of a stretch.

Oh, look, here's the man himself. Hey, Wendy. Hi, I'm Matt. So great to meet you. Love your kitchen. What's this contraption here? It's a kettle. A kettle, eh? Bit of an IT whiz, are you, Wendy? Looks like I'd better make you head of test and trace as well. I'm pleased to say that Wendy signed the contract with Matt and hasn't produced a single item of PPE since.

Another happy customer. No, no, no. Let me speak. Nigel Fromage. It's the Donald. Donald, my man. I'm having the perfect night in. Pint, Rothmans, and a big box set of the Black and White Minstrel Show. How the

devil are you? I'm great. So great. The greatest. Did you see my huge majority? Oh, yes, I saw the election. Congrats. Thank you. Now that I'm president again, me and Rudy, when he recovers from Covfefe 19, are putting together my new administration. Right. Are you still going to the Supreme Court? Yes, I am going to the Supreme Court. Supreme Court. But only because it sounds like a pizza. Super Supreme Court. So tasty.

Yum, yum. Yum, yum. Right, yes. That's why I married Melania, you know, because I couldn't find anyone called Margarita. And that's why I keep Rudy Giuliani close to me, because he sweats barbecue sauce. So tasty.

We've already got Batman as Chief of Defense and Seabiscuit as Attorney General. Great horse, by the way. Clippity-clop. Now we just need a new press secretary and I thought of you. Well, Donald, I mean, I'm flattered, obviously, but... Now, do you want the job or not? We need someone who can create alternative facts and doesn't mind oiling my skin with sunny delight.

Well, Don, you know this shameless old sycophant worships the ground you walk on. But are you absolutely sure you will have the authority to offer the people... I could always give the job to Piers Morgan. Oh my god. Tell Seabiscuit to order the Sunny D. Nigel's on his way. BBC Radio 2. This is

Zoe Ball sending big love to whoever wrote that jingle. What a tune! Okay, now it's time to get serious. So we've all had a difficult year. So for today, I am taking on a non-stop charity challenge. I'm going to spend 24 hours telling everyone in Britain I love them. All 67 million of you, I love you. What do you think, Sidekick Richie? Isn't that just your usual show, Zoe? Oh, I love you, Richie. I love this challenge. It's going to take stamina and strength, but I am going to flex my big old heart and gush so hard

you'll all need to mop your floors. I love mops. I love mops so much. I love your mop action, Keith in Midlock. Love you, Keith. And I love your wife, Sally. Lovely Sally. Look, we all love Sally. You've been working ever so hard on those HGVs, haven't you, Sally? Love you.

Love you, Chloe in Crinkleford, who's just learned to tie her shoelaces. Love your name. I love that name, Chloe. Love it. Love it. I love shoelaces, they're so stringy. Love you Mick and Bick and all who found two matching socks this morning. Love to you Mick and love to all the sock makers out there. Oh, we appreciate all you're doing, we love socks. Sorry. Yeah? Yes, I'll be psychic, Richie, lovely Richie.

You've actually said I love you less than you normally do. Oh, Richie, Richie, I love you. Hello and welcome to the film programme. Despite a grim year, Hollywood insists movie theatres do have a bright future, as nowhere else on earth gives us that special experience of having a small popcorn coke in a packet of Maltesers that costs £37. One eagerly anticipated release is the Downton Abbey sequel. Robert, what's the matter?

You look pained. Boo-boo-bee-doo. You know, I am rather miffed, Cora. I've just been reading The Times, which is a popular newspaper of the day, about this awful programme, The Crown. The Crown? Yes.

It's a sprawling historical show set amongst the British upper classes that takes terrible liberties with historical accuracy. Oh, Robert, how wretched. Papa's right. I was saying how shocked I was by how fast and loose they play with history. When was that, Mary? Just the other day, when I narrowly pipped Amelia Earhart to become the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic.

Precisely. If these damned historical dramas can't stick to the facts, what's the point of anything? I must head to London immediately to raise this matter in the Lords. Carson, fetch my skateboard. At once, Lord Grantham. Would you prefer to travel on the Intercity Express, or shall I bring the Tesla round from the garage? The Tesla, please.

I fancy listening to Barack Obama's new book on Audible, and I've just got the Bluetooth up and running. You're going nowhere, Robert. But Mama, I feel most strongly about this. That may be, but we have a house guest to entertain. Where there is discord, let me bring union. Where there is error, let... Yes, yes, yes. Look, I'm not absolutely sure Baroness Thatcher should be here. Oh, get with the programme, Robert. Conflating a few historical events is all the rage these days. Isn't that right, Paul? Absolutely, love. Now, if you'll excuse me, me and the other Beatles would like to jam with Oasis in the drawing room.

Come ahead, Paul. Stop gassing with the poshies. Okay. Now, this has gone too far. No respect for historical accuracy at all. Northerners in the drawing room. Dear God, this film will be laughed out of the Odeon. In a world filled with death and despair, there is one group of British superheroes dedicated to upholding all that is good and decent. Sir Ian McKellen.

Take the ring, Frodo. Sir Patrick Stewart. Take the helm, Mr. Riker. Dame Judi Dench. Take him out, Agent Bond. And Alan Bennett. Take a look at this mince pie, Gladys. This old pie, no mince.

I mean, that's fine. It's just all fresh air. They are the National Treasures. The National Treasures have been summoned to their secret base deep beneath BAFTA headquarters are the National Treasures. The National Treasures have been summoned to their secret base deep beneath BAFTA headquarters. Right, Treasures. We're here because we face one of our most dangerous threats. If you're worried about the

cancelled pantomimes named Judy Treacle Darling, don't worry. I'm doing Aladdin on Zoom. I'm just waiting for Dave236 to sign in and scream, he's behind you! Your widow twanky is enough to make anyone scream. Oh, don't be such a transphobe, Spocky. It's much more serious than the lack of pantos.

Everyone. The government has appealed for celebrities to take the corona vaccine live on television and Piers Morgan has accepted. What? No way. But if Piers Morgan takes the vaccine and encourages everyone else to take it, thus saving thousands of lives... Yes. Piers Morgan will become a national treasure.

Ye gods. We cannot let this happen. He shall not pass. Indeed. Someone has to go on Good Morning Britain and take the vaccine before him. Oh dear, no. My agent would never allow it. Oh dear, this is very bad. I can't do it because I had a falling out with Lorraine over who got the Christmas take-a-break cover. I can't do morning telly. Had a bad experience sharing some bourbon creams

with Frank Boff in the 80s. Still get seizures when I see chunky knitwear. Oh, wait, everyone. Look at this readout. We're saved. It turns out the vaccine should only be used on humans. Piers Morgan is out of the running. A wonderful day! Oh, but wait. It looks like Greg Wallace has stepped in to take over.

Sub the knitwear. If I end up with an allergic reaction, it'll be worth the risk. Dead Ringers was performed by John Culshaw, Lewis MacLeod, Jan Ravens, Deborah Stevenson and Duncan Wisby. The writers were Nev Fountain and Tom Jameson, Lawrence Howard, Ed Amsden and Tom Coles, Sarah Campbell, James Bug, Simon Alcock, Geoffrey Adu and Alex Hardy. It was a BBC Studios production and the producer and creator was Bill Dare.