Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - Party's Over: Pilot 23rd July 2021
Episode Date: July 23, 2021What happens when the Prime Minister suddenly stops being Prime Minister?One day you're the most powerful person in the country, the next you're irrelevant, forced into retirement 30 years ahead of sc...hedule and find yourself asking 'What do I do now?'Miles Jupp stars as Henry Tobin - Britain's shortest serving and least popular post war PM (he managed 8 months).We join Henry soon after his crushing election loss. He’s determined to not let his disastrous defeat be the end of him. Instead Henry's going to get back to the top - he's just not sure how and in what field..In this first episode of the series, Henry is looking to repair his tattered reputation by getting a publishing deal for his memoirs to set the record straight on his premiership.Written by Paul Doolan and Jon HunterHenry Tobin... Miles Jupp Christine Tobin... Ingrid Oliver Natalie... Emma Sidi Drew... Kiell Smith-Bynoe Jones... Justin Edwards PJ... Rosie Cavaliero Jack Steele & Tony... Adam RichesProducer Simon NichollsA BBC Studios production for BBC Radio 4 first broadcast in August 2019.
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As Prime Minister, I called this general election to firm up my government's support and finally repair this great nation.
And whilst in many ways it was the right decision,
I must also accept that
I have been defeated in a
massive landslide,
lost my seat,
and been ousted by the party
that I love.
Prime Minister, which of the many
catastrophes over the eight months you were in power
do you think was the biggest? The petrol
crisis? Losing Gibraltar?
The school dinner dog meat scandal?
Many of these events could be viewed as successes.
You call it a petrol crisis,
I call it more Britons using bicycles than ever before.
What's next, Mr Tobin?
Well, the world is my oyster.
I'm going to go back into number ten now,
say my goodbyes, and start living the world is my oyster. I'm going to go back into number ten now, say my goodbyes,
and start living the rest of my life.
A window may have closed, but a lot of doors are about to open.
Thank you.
Come on, open the door.
I still technically live here, you know.
Party's over by Paul Doolan and John Hunter.
This is the final call for passenger...
Oh, I needed that, Christine.
Nothing like three weeks in India to get all the negativity out of your system.
Yes, and you were getting through a modium like Tic Tacs.
I'm not talking about that.
I've come back ready to put politics behind me.
Well, it was nice to get away.
Walking along the beach, arm in arm, just you and me
and a 6ft4 heavily armed protection officer
following us everywhere we go.
Well, it's a cracking holiday, Mrs T.
It was a bit hot for my taste, though.
Yes, Jones, we noticed.
My idea of a relaxing break isn't spending half of my time
fanning a giant sweating Geordie.
Well, it's the bulletproof vest and the gear.
It traps a lot of heat in and I was effectively being poached.
LAUGHTER
Do we really still need him? Can't you send him back?
What Jones lacks in heat resistance,
he more than makes up for by being poised to take a bullet for me.
We don't need to worry about that sort of thing, sir.
You're, er...
Ah, what's the word? You're relevant.
LAUGHTER The world's forgotten about you already. Oi! Tossa! We don't need to worry about that sort of thing, sir. You're, er... Oh, what's the word? Irrelevant.
The world's forgotten about you already.
Oi! Tossa!
Well, he hasn't.
Why do you assume he's talking about me?
I'm talking about you, Toby!
Henry, is that your old assistant over there with the welcome home balloons?
Oh, God.
Natalie, what are you doing here?
I'm here to serve the finest Prime Minister this country's ever seen.
You.
Right. We sort of assumed you'd be staying on at the party.
I don't need a personal private secretary.
Er, yes, you do. And I've quit the party.
The way they refuse to stand by you over trivial little landslide defeat.
I couldn't stand to breathe the same air as them.
Thank you, Natalie, that's touching. And a little creepy.
Now, I've collected
all the press cuttings from when you were away.
I've blacked out anything negative.
Henry Tobin will be remembered as...
Natalie, the rest of this is all black.
I know. I got through eight Sharpies.
Well, I'm going to set the record straight.
While we were in India, I wrote my memoirs.
Am I in it?
Do I get a mention?
You both feature very prominently in one of the footnotes.
Memoirs? Well, that's great.
You can discuss it with the new agent I've set you up with.
An agent?
Yes, of course.
Well, there's so many opportunities now you're out of politics, not just memoirs.
In many ways, your career going down the toilet might be the best thing that's ever happened to us.
Yes, yes, I wonder what other pieces of great luck might befall me.
Maybe I'll get blood poisoning or lose a testicle.
Here he is, the latest stallion in my stable of stars.
Bring it in, muchacho. I'm Drew Barrymore.
My new agent's called Drew Barrymore.
Listen, I'm not like other agents with their stuffy suits
and their clean criminal records.
I'm the new breed.
I'm the new breed, and I get results.
He's exciting, isn't he?
Yes, in much the same way as an epileptic fit is exciting.
So, hombres, I've arranged for a top publisher
to be here soon about the memoirs,
but there's other opportunities out there.
I've had offers, Henry.
Offers bigger than a bull's balls.
How would you like to be the face of Parasol Batteries?
Picture this.
You, dressed as a battery.
That's it.
I've got a script here.
Unlike me, power cell batteries
last much longer than eight months.
Why would I want to do this?
Well, we need to show that you can laugh at yourself,
you can have a bit of fun.
He's got a point.
Everyone's gone mad.
No, it's about taking hold of the narrative.
You don't like batteries?
OK, how about Strigley?
Ooh, classic rehabilitation move.
People even liked Dan Whittaker after that.
Briefly.
No, we're starting with the memoirs.
It gets the truth out there,
that everything I did was a genuine attempt
to make life better for those that needed it the most.
Plus, a bit of money can't hurt.
Cameron got £800,000 for this and literally nobody wants
to read that.
You're the boss, Chickalini. Ah, here she is.
Drew.
Mwah. Mwah.
Mwah. Mwah.
Henry Darling. Mwah.
Mwah. Mwah. Mwah.
This is PJ Byrne, head of
carriage publishing.
PJ publishes books and is a woman.
I've done my research.
Delighted to meet you, PJ.
Please, call me Peej.
Could I possibly call you something that sounds less like a urinary tract infection?
That is so funny.
I'm literally crying with laughter.
Didn't expect that.
He's a triple threat. Funny, serious, hair.
Never had a client like him. Granted, a lot of my clients are animals from Britain's Got Talent, but... Henry, I love the book.
Oh, you've read it already?
No, nobody ever reads political memoirs. They just put them on shelves to look smart.
Long and short of it is there's a tiny window
when people might just buy a book with your face on the front,
so let's get it out there.
Hey, it sounds like we've got a deal.
Oh, let's talk numbers.
I can go as high as 80k.
80?
How to say this subtly?
People hate Henry.
Let's talk titles.
We need something shocking that'll grab people.
Well, I'd thought Downing Street Diaries,
but, yeah, maybe we should call it Doggy Style,
or Well Done the IRA.
Peach, come on.
I'm looking at your client list right now on my phone.
This SAS author of yours, Jack Steele,
you're telling me he gets as low as 80k?
Of course not. He's actually popular.
And he's not my client anymore.
My prick of an ex-husband just poached him for his new company.
I hear that. Last week I lost a YouTuber to a rival.
One of the best singing cats in the business.
Right after this, I'm off to Hay Literary Festival
and they're both going to be there, rubbing my nose in it.
I think we're done here. We'll take the offer.
But we were just...
Trust me, Henry, I've had an idea.
PJ, let's sort out the details when you're back from Hay.
Great.
I still don't quite understand the plan.
Oh, right, right, you have a go.
I've been trying to explain since Reading.
OK, look, two publishers hate each other.
Both are going to be at the Hay Festival.
If we engineer it so each of them thinks the other wants Henry's book,
they'll do anything to get it.
Do we really need a higher offer? You know, isn't it enough to just get the truth out there?
That you were stabbed in the back by a public who should be rounded up and hanged?
Sorry, it's just all still so raw.
If we take the low offer, then we look like failures. But a big book deal,
suddenly the Tobins are back. Oh, and we can get your diary full again.
I thought it was full. What about my speech at the Oxford Union?
The Barnardo's charity auction?
My brunch at the Shard with Greg Dyke?
They've all cancelled. Flu, apparently.
How can the Oxford Union have flu?
Can't you see what's happening?
We're social pariahs.
This has to go well.
Then it's back to our old life of charity galas
and holidaying with the Cloonies.
I'd like to see them all again.
And George. We're nearly out of Nespresso pods.
There's no way I'm paying for them.
Excuse me. Coming through.
There you are.
I suppose you were off performing some kind of security check.
No, I just went for some Jaffa cakes.
And a pie.
Good to know I have an elite operative guarding my life.
What's the big folder, Natalie?
More redacted abuse?
Oh, no, I'm taking my own book to pitch while we're at Hay.
And what's it about?
It's a thriller.
I don't know where the idea came from.
It just sort of appeared out of the blue.
It's about a thrusting young prime minister and his assistant.
Oh, I would definitely like to hear some of it.
Please, no.
I'm sure it would just make Natalie feel uncomfortable.
Oh, no, no, no, no. I'll read you a bit.
Prime Minister Harvey Tarpin descended the stairs of number 10,
the towel around his waist too slight
for the mammoth job of containing his muscular body.
Pectorals the size of bears' heads.
He needed to get dressed up for the ambassador's reception,
but first he was going to give his assistant, Natalia, a dressing down.
Like I say, I mean, you know, who knows where this stuff comes from?
Would anyone like to switch seats so they're next to Natalie?
Would anyone like to switch seats so they're next to Natalie?
A literary festival really is a cut above.
Look at these people.
Educated, refined.
This is my kind of place.
Henry!
Papino, my favourite human client.
Listen, I've had more offers in.
Two words, celebrity juice.
One word, no.
Oh, there's Polly Westborough. We had a proper laugh at her charity lunch last year. You crack on
with the plan. I'm going to catch up with Polly.
Polly! Paul!
Is she ignoring me? It's hard
to say. Is she deaf and blind?
No.
Do you know what? I'm not standing for this.
Polly! Polly!
Okay, right, let's huddle.
Come in closer, guys.
Not that close.
Natalie.
Sorry.
Now, what do we know about the target?
Well, he's over there by the table.
Tony Aston, PJ's ex and former publishing partner.
According to the internet,
he is a complete bastard with the emotional age of a toddler.
Citation needed.
I think PJ may have been editing his Wikipedia page.
And the big chap next to Tony is... What? It's Jack Steele. It's Jack Steele.
I've read all his books. He's amazing.
He once killed a man with his own teeth.
Lovely stuff. Natalie, you cover the door.
If PJ arrives, get her out of here.
Jones, you keep Steele busy.
I'll charm Tony Aston so hard,
he'll be begging me to publish with him.
Jones? Me? Talk to Jack Steele busy. I'll chime Tony Aston so hard, he'll be begging me to publish with him. Jones?
Me? Talk to Jack Steele?
He's my hero. What do I talk to him about? Well, you were both in the army.
Just get over there. Talk about your favourite
camouflage or webbing or something.
I take breaths. I can do this.
He's just a man.
So I said to him, you might have the drop
on me, but I've got a sniper
up in their mills with a red dot on your ball sack, mate.
LAUGHTER
Oh, ball sack, I love it.
I'm Jones, a protection officer to the former PM.
I'm a huge fan of your work, Mr Steele.
I like your gun.
Really? You like it?
Oh, cheers, it's...
Glock 17, I know.
Used one in the Columbian rainforest.
It was in my last book.
I jungle to death.
I know that bit where the cartel leader pulled your jeep over
and you...
Blew his head off.
Oh, it's so clever.
It's good to meet someone who knows the way round a weapon.
You fancy a chai latte?
Oh.
I...
I'd love that, Mr Stewart.
Here we go.
And...
So sorry.
I didn't mean to bump into you.
Oh, Mr. Tobin.
What a pleasure.
Are you Tony Aston, the publisher?
Guilty as charged.
Surprised you recognize me.
Oh, huge fan of your work.
That last book you published, wow, really spoke to me.
Italian food made easy.
Yeah, really, really spoke to me about ravioli.
You know, it's amazing how they get the meat in there.
Like a ship in a bottle.
You know, I've actually written the book myself.
Good for you.
Cash in while the windows open.
Probably not for me, though.
Cookbooks and SAS memoirs, they're my niche.
Actually, looking at a crossover.
Jamie Oliver's Omelettes Behind Enemy Lines.
Oh, no, I wasn't pitching.
No, I've just signed a deal with Carriage Publishing.
Not with PJ.
Oh, you know PJ?
Oh, I had no idea.
Know her?
I had the pleasure of divorcing her.
Sir, let's have a talk about this book of yours.
I've actually been meaning to get into political memoirs.
But Tony, going behind PJ's back, it feels wrong,
but somehow so right.
Holly! Holly, hi.
You just completely blanked me back there,
like I was an ordinary member of the public or something.
Of course I didn't. Look, it's just
it's not exactly great for my image
to be seen with the wife of a man who said
gift baskets to all those terrorists.
It was an admin error.
I thought
we were friends.
Oh, we are.
And we can still chat.
Maybe on the phone.
And I'm sure I'll see you at Nigella's garden party.
Oh, I heard it was off this year.
Oh, no, it's...
Oh, orcs.
Well, Dave Cameron's going,
so maybe she didn't want it getting too political.
Anyway, I just need to pop in here.
OK, great. Sorry, it's VIP to pop in here. Okay, great. Sorry, it's
VIP passes only.
Right. Christine, great news.
I've hooked Tony and he's offered a hundred grand.
What's the matter? Did you know we've been uninvited
from Nigella's garden party? Does that really matter?
Cameron's going. Nigella!
And after I defended her father's
frankly baffling views on the environment.
We have to shift it up a gear.
We need a massive book deal that will have the invites flooding in.
I want a social life.
I don't want to be like Gordon and Sarah Brown.
I want to be happy.
OK, there's PJ,
just leaving Mary Berry's yet another way to do Christmas talk.
Heading in our direction.
I think the old
mad of my word trick should work.
You remember? Always does, yes.
OK, here we go.
I don't care what he's offering. I have a verbal
contract with Peej and I am a man of my
word. Oh, Peej!
I didn't see you there. Henry!
Mwah! Mwah!
Mwah! Mwah!
Mwah! What a surprise What a surprise
This is awkward
Henry's been approached by another publisher
They've doubled your offer
You may have heard of him
Tony, what was it, Aston?
My bastard ex-husband
He never said
Oh, please, you know I would never
I don't blame you
At least you're being honest with me.
Of course.
Not entirely honest.
Henry said doubled. Tony actually tripled your offer.
Said something about rubbing that woman's face in.
What was it again?
I think it was dirt or mud.
Yes, no, either way, it was quite unsanitary.
I am literally boiling with rage right now.
Don't sign anything. Let me talk to accounts.
I'll outbid him if I have to sell an arm. I'll be right now. Don't sign anything. Let me talk to accounts. I'll outbid him if I have to sell an arm.
I'll be right back.
Excellent. Right, let's find Tony.
Ah, there he is, talking to the woman
with the big hands.
That's Monty Don.
Tony, uh, Tone, uh, bad news, I'm afraid.
Somehow, PJ heard about our little talk, and she's upped her offer.
She was very angry, said you probably wouldn't be able to pay us anyway.
Said your company was, uh, what was the phrase?
Pissing money like a diabetic horse?
That's rich. Being called a horse by an absolute cow!
Well, and telling everyone you suffer from erectile dysfunction,
that's just cruel.
Right, what's she offered?
Four?
Five hundred thousand.
I'll call the money men.
If you don't mind me asking, Tony,
why did you and PJ split up in the first place?
She thought I was sleeping with a client,
this Belgian pastry chef we just signed.
I wasn't, of course, but it was downhill from there.
Why do you ask?
Oh, no reason.
Just thought it'd be useful.
Um, interesting.
See you later, Tony.
Yes, this is fun.
I feel like we've not had this in years.
Just you and me, hanging out, working as a team.
To defraud two major publishing houses.
Hey, babushkas,
this place is amazing. Who would have thought somewhere
full of books could be good?
How's the bidding war going?
Good, but I think we could get
them to go higher if we split up.
Work on them both at the same time. Oh, good thinking.
Bombalino, if you want some advice on
negotiating, the one word to remember
is confusion. He says 750,
you go lower, 300. Now he's on the back foot
when whap, you hit him with a 2.5 mil.
Then suddenly, you're offering him money.
What? Then flip, reverse it, jackpot, repeater,
art of the deal.
I think
we've got it in hand.
PJ, I'm so sorry about Henry's book.
What about it? Oh, you haven't heard?
Tony's just offered Henry 600 grand.
He's only doing this to get to me.
Yeah, and I feel terrible about this,
especially the way he laughed as he was doing it,
calling you all sorts of names,
the B word, the C word, even the K word.
What's the K word?
Oh!
And to be honest, I think he was just doing it to impress his girlfriend.
He has a new girlfriend?
I didn't think much of her.
You know the type, banging on about pastries and her stupid Belgian accent.
I mean, come on.
I'm going to destroy him.
I feel like I've said something I shouldn't.
To Karen, yours with deadly precision and kill speed, Jack Steele.
Thank you, young man.
So, Jones, what were we talking about?
Oh, when you rescued that journalist from Basra.
Oh, aye.
So I kicked the door down, took out four terrorists,
and said to the fifth,
this bastard's got a front-page story to file tomorrow.
The killing of you by me.
Bang, headshot. Bang, heart.
Oh, that's priceless.
You know, it's a lot like my job. I've been in some bang, part. Oh, that's priceless.
You know, it's a lot like my job.
I've been in some pretty hairy situations.
Oh, yeah?
Chelsea Flower Show, 2003.
I was protecting Geoff Hoon.
Suddenly a waiter offers him a tempura prawn and I karate chop them out of his hand.
You see, Mr Hoon has a shellfish allergy.
I'm talking about real fighting.
From where I'm sitting, you sound like a glorified babysitter.
What? No, hang on.
In protection, you've got to be ready to take a bullet for your client.
You have to keep him in your sights at all times.
Certainly do.
Where is he now, then?
What? I don't know. He went off somewhere.
Excuse me.
Anyone see an ex-PM of you?
Posh bloke. Blue shirt.
Low approval rating.
Look, Henry, I really want your book,
but the money men only go nuclear when TV are interested.
Oh, but TV are interested, did I not say?
Oh, stupid.
In fact, I was just talking to...
There she is, with you in a moment.
So, I've written this thriller set in the heart of government.
Tarpin swept the treaty off his desk with one swift, manly gesture.
Enough of these briefs.
It's time to get out of these briefs.
As he ripped his... Oh, goodness.
I got bloody hell.
Well, I...
Well, I certainly can't publish it, but I...
Could you send me a copy to read?
On my own?
Natalie, I need you to pretend to be someone for me.
I'll be anyone for you. Anyone.
No, quick, you're an American Netflix exec,
and you love my book.
Now, come on.
Tony, this is Gloria from Netflix.
Gloria Krakenfeld.
Nice to meet you.
The Cape Town office.
Oh, Henry, we love your book.
You make us feel safe and like nothing bad can ever happen
And...
To cut a weird story short
Gloria was saying Netflix are very interested in serialising my memoirs
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
We think it could be the next The Crown, but even bigger
Henry will be played by Daniel Craig
Or... Wesley Snipes Next, the crown, but even bigger. Henry will be played by Daniel Craig,
or, uh, Wesley Snipes.
Interesting.
Look, I need to make a few calls,
but if I dump a couple of chefs,
I reckon I can get to 750.
Stay here.
Henry, Henry, over here.
I've got a 750.
Me too. This is exhilarating. Oh, my God. Let's just choose one and get back to civilisation.
Or I think I can get Tony over 800. I feel like I'm on a roll here.
I know, I get it, but why not quit while you're ahead?
You made a plan and followed up on that plan.
That's more than you achieved in office.
I don't know. I'm so close to what Cameron got.
I could beat him. Who'd be the failure then?
Him and his poncy little shepherd's hat.
I've not seen you this fired up since that argument with Andrew Marr.
That was my Uber and he knew it.
Come on then. Tony won't know what's hit him.
£800,001 and it's yours. know what's hit him. 800,000 and one pounds
and it's yours. Or I could always
see if PJ wants to go that
high. I'm sure she can raise the
funding even if you can't get it up.
Oh, sorry.
I didn't mean... Alright.
It's a deal. Welcome aboard.
I'm going to rub this in Nigella's face so
hard. You know, we should
announce my deal here in front of everybody.
Get a photo of me looking statesman-like.
Have you got one of those massive checks?
Not on me, no.
Look, let's not rush into anything right now.
I've got to go.
Jack Steele's about to do a reading from his new book on the main stage.
Well, that's perfect. Just stick me on with him.
Henry, what are you doing?
You've got the offer. Why do you need to go on stage?
It's image control.
Like you and Drew were saying, show everyone I'm on top. Prove I can are you doing? You've got the offer. Why do you need to go on stage? It's image control. Like you and Drew were saying,
show everyone I'm on top.
Prove I can laugh at myself.
You hate laughing at yourself.
Okay, but I want my moment.
This is actual good news.
I'll just go out, talk about the book,
and bask a little in the glory.
I mean, come on, I've not basked in glory for ages.
I hope you know what you're doing.
I know exactly what I'm doing.
I'm rising from the flames.
doing? I know exactly what I'm doing.
I'm rising from the flames.
So there I was in the Continental Hotel
downtown Kabul. Knock
at the door. Guy comes in with a machine
gun. I say to him, I didn't
order room service,
but here's a knuckle sandwich from me. Punch!
Then I shot him.
But to find out what with, you'll have to buy me book.
Oh, thank you, Jack Steele, for that light-hearted tale of murder.
Thank you to Tony Aston here for allowing me to come on
and talk to you about my memoirs, which have just sold.
Incidentally, for more than David Cameron's did.
Thank you.
Henry, mate, Jack already overran,
so maybe skip straight to the Q&A?
Okey-dokey, yeah. Any questions?
Yeah, you.
Yeah, why did you feed dog meat to kids?
Questions about the memoirs.
Did the memoirs say why you fed dog meat to kids?
Let's put this to bed.
Did some dog meat make its way
into school dinners? Yes.
Is that my fault? Morally,
no. Legally, very
much for the inquiry to decide.
I have a question
for your new publisher. How's life
with your Belgian tart?
Lovely to hear from you, PJ.
Where do you get this stuff?
I've barely spoken to the woman.
Liar.
Let's move on.
Let's not move on.
He called me the C word.
And the K word.
I don't even know what that is.
Ask your new client.
Oh, the one you told that I was impotent?
Isn't that right, Henry?
And what else did she say?
My company was pissing money like a diabetic horse.
I never said that.
Maybe not in those words exactly.
I can see what's happened here, Tony.
She's had a drink.
She's let her imagination run wild.
Best if we move on with a bit of dignity
and get this contract signed somewhere slightly less public and amplified.
She didn't say any of it, did she?
Well, that depends on your definition of say.
You've been lying all along.
To both of us.
Just to get us to offer you more money.
I'm literally sobbing right now.
Typical politician.
Hey, now, if there's one thing I'm sure we can all agree on,
it is that I am no longer a politician.
We can also agree that the deal is definitely off. Oh, great.
Peach! I'm going.
Don't leave.
Okay, well, I don't need them.
Hey, festival.
Seeing as there's so many publishers
here, why don't we turn this into a book auction?
A bit of fun.
For sale, one excellent memoir
by one of this country's most
loved leaders.
A surefire bestseller. What have I got?
600,000? Have I got 600?
500.
Four?
Three?
Fine! No point selling a book these days anyway.
All I wanted to do was write a few words about how I actually cared about the people of this country.
But what's the sodding point? Nobody reads anything unless it's about food, sex or army men. Oh, this guy wrote a book about running one of the biggest nations on earth.
Have you ever seen it? No. Does it tell you how to make a lemon meringue pie? Don't think so.
Oh, then tell him to stick it up his arse! You know why? It's you, publishers, are exactly what's
wrong with this country. You're a useless bunch of parasites and you should be ashamed of yourselves.
I'm sure somebody wants to make an offer.
Come on!
Was it really as bad as it seemed?
Oh, God, yes.
Oh, I thought you were amazing, sir.
Let's just head home and lock ourselves away for a bit.
Might be fun.
There you are, capuchuchus.
Why is everyone looking so down? I've just signed the biggest book contract
of my career. For a human author
anyway. Ah, Drew,
you actually managed to sell my book.
Of course, a book by an ex-PM is
still big news. No, no, no, Toblerone.
Tony and PJ
wanted Natalie's book. Smart sales.
They spent big when they realised it would embarrass
you. It'll be the first book out of their reformed publishing house.
Oh, congratulations, Natalie.
Thank you, sir, but I will not be leaving my job.
Oh, the good news keeps coming.
At least we'll have something to read while we sit alone
waiting for old age to finally smother us.
Oh, no, no, no, don't worry about that, Amici.
Drew Barrymore will take care of you.
And one more time, please.
Power cell batteries.
Unlike me, they'll last a lot longer than eight months.
Party's over, starred Miles Jupp, Ingrid Oliver,
Justin Edwards, Rosie Cavaliero,
Kael Smith-Vaino, Emma Siddy and Adam Richards.
It was written by Paul Doolan and John Hunter.
The producer was Simon Nicholls.
And it was a BBC Studios production. This is the first radio ad you can smell. The new Cinnabon Pull Apart, only at Wendy's.
It's ooey, gooey, and just five bucks with a small coffee all day long.
Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th.
Terms and conditions apply.