The Unbelievable Truth - 06x06 Bells, Mrs. Beeton, Donkeys, The Police

Episode Date: December 22, 2021

06x06 1 November 2010 Rhod Gilbert, Tom Wrigglesworth, Kevin Bridges, Lucy Porter Bells, Mrs. Beeton, Donkeys, The Police

We present the unbelievable truth, the panel game built on truth and lies. In the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. on truth and lies. In the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. Hello and welcome to The Unbelievable Truth, the panel show about incredible truths and barely credible lies, which this week comes from a tent at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. I'm David Mitchell. Today I'm joined by four comedians who are all excellent liars, if the quotes on their Edinburgh posters are anything to go by. Please welcome Rod Gilbert, Kevin Bridges, Tom Rigglesworth and Lucy Porter. The rules are as follows.

Each panellist will present a short lecture that should be entirely false, save for five pieces of true information which they should attempt to smuggle past their opponents, cunningly concealed amongst the lies. Points are scored by truths that go unnoticed, while other panellists can win points if they spot a truth or lose points if they mistake a lie for a truth. We'll begin with Rod Gilbert.

Rod used to be the voice of Welsh tourism, and under his careful guidance, the number of tourists visiting Wales has recently shot past that of Rwanda. Rod, your subject is bells, described by my dictionary as hollow, cup-shaped instruments, usually made of metal, that emit a ringing sound when struck

by a clapper or hammer. Off you go, Rod. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. A bell was invented in 500 AD when rope pullers in a church in Seville realised they would reach a wider audience if they attached the ropes they'd been... If they attached the ropes they'd been pulling silently for hundreds of years to something noisy.

Initial attempts to attach it to a cow's udders were only partially successful. A cow's distress mooing in the cow tower certainly brought people to the church, but after an hour or so, the cow udder ringers below were starting to attract flies and wasps. When bells replaced cows, bell ringing was believed to clear villages of genital warts,

prevent flatulence and drive away left-handed people. They were also thought to stop thunderstorms. A storm would start, some sucker would ring the bell to drive it away and then get hit by lightning. Lucy? I think bells were used to stop thunderstorms. That is absolutely true that people thought they were. Yes, well done.

Wow. Yeah. Superstition continued until the 18th century, and from 1753 to 1786, lightning struck 386 French church towers with lightning running down the bell ropes to kill 103 French bell ringers. They also apparently were in the habit in those days

of storing gunpowder in the cellars of churches. So essentially, if there was a thunderstorm, what everyone did is they rushed out to try and complete the circuit between the lightning and the gunpowder. Parrots are mysteriously drawn to bells. Two parrots were once found living happily in the bell tower of St Martin's Church in Lowestoft in Suffolk. They were so hard of hearing that when one of them asked who's a pretty boy, they did so so loudly that Robbie Williams heard them in London and answered, I am, I am. I should explain, when we come to Edinburgh,

we insist on a tent near the railway station. So you may hear the odd noise of a friendly train greeting Radio 4. Another parrot took up residence in the bell tower of St Mary's Church in Murfield in West Yorkshire and would abuse worshippers, telling them to F off. The vicar said it can cause problems at funerals. Kevin.

Is that true, the parrot? Yes. The F off parrot in West Yorkshire, that's absolutely true. Well done, Kevin. Henry Ford mowed down thousands of pedestrians in his first motor vehicle, which was fitted with a domestic doorbell instead of a horn.

Instead of getting out of the way, pedestrians would just stand there shouting, come in, who is it, hello? Apart from the noise of doorbells on cars up until 1930, rather than just using the bell on your bike occasionally to warn people in your path, every single cyclist in Britain was legally required to ring the bell on their bike non-stop, shout Geronimo

constantly and do round-the-clock Tarzan noises. In Poland, Dickie Senft likes to dress up as a construction worker and go riding on his six-foot-high unicycle made of 2,000 bicycle lamps welded together in the shape of a donkey. In Prague, Dimitri Slenft likes to dress up as an angel and go riding on his

20-foot-long bicycle made up of 10,000 bicycle handlebars welded together in the shape of a rabbit. Lucy. The first one was so ridiculous, the second one sounded plausible by comparison. Maybe by comparison, but unfortunately it's still the wrong side of something that ever happened.

In Germany, Didi Senft likes to dress up as the devil and go riding on his 30-foot-long bicycle made of 50,000 bicycle bells welded together in the shape of a fish. Lucy. I'll say yes. You've got it this time. Yes. Viewers were amazed when Chuck Berry appeared on a chat show in 1973

to refute widespread claims that his 1972 hit record, My Ding-a-ling, was a euphemism for his genitals. To everyone's amazement, Chuck pulled down his trousers and pants mid-interview to reveal a small cowbell where his genitals should have been. Kevin. Is that true? You think Chuck Berry had a cowbell for genitals? Yeah.

I believe anything you say, Rod. That's a problem for this game. We shouldn't have booked us together. Tell you, if you believe everything he says, you're slow on the buzzer, Kevin. Thank you, Rod. You've got most of them. Most of them are easy. You've got most of them.

Lucy's got most of them. And at the end of that round, Rod, you've managed to smuggle two truths past the rest of the panel. By the way, that's just the noise of the police chasing a train. Which are that Henry Ford's first motor vehicle was fitted with a domestic doorbell instead of a horn. It was powered by a two-cylinder engine steered by a tiller. That's the thing on a boat, not the hun.

That's the thing on a boat, not the hun. And the second truth is that under a law of 1888, rather than just using the bell on your bike occasionally to warn people in your path, you were supposed to ring it constantly, and that law remained on the statute book in Britain until 1930. That means, Rod, you've scored two points. Bells were used to prevent the plague. Breaking up the air

with loud noises was thought to dissolve the static plague vapours. Silly, really. Nowadays we know better, thanks to homeopathy. And it's said that if you're born in London within the sound of bow bells, then you are, by tradition, a stinking, thieving chav. OK, we turn now to Tom Rigglesworth. Your subject, Tom, is Mrs Beaton,

otherwise known as Isabella Mary Beaton, author of the best-selling Mrs Beaton's Book of Household Management, which has remained in print since its first publication in 1861. Fingers on buzzers, everyone else. Off you go, Tom. Mrs. Beaton was allergic to pork and had, in some people's eyes, an irrational dislike of carrots. Her love and obsession with the other root, the parsnip, was legendary. And she even gave her name to the dark red variety of turnip, the beet root. Just give me a minute, Tom, I'm thinking. You've clearly given me too long, which means it's false.

Oh, you're playing mind games. Or he's double-bluffing you. Rod? He's double-bluffing me. I've actually lost count of bluffs, and I don't know what double-bluffing you would mean. Do you think that's true, then? I think there was a truth in there somewhere. How about that?

I think either A, she had an irrational dislike of carrots in some people's eyes, or B, she gave a name to the beetroot, or possibly C, she was allergic to pork. I'm going to have to ask you, Rod, which of those things you think is true. Ah, so one of them is true. Good. Right. By the way, none of them is true. I'm just interested to know. Or is this a double bluff? Is the game's host allowed to double bluff the contestants?

I mean, there's no point in his doing so, and he isn't in this case. Although he is referring to himself in the third person. You've changed. Which is the first refuge of the scoundrel, bad David. Oh, she was obsessed with parsnips. No, she wasn't. She was allergic to pork? No, none of those things were true.

She was also more than partial to Turkish delight. Right. True. No. In her cookbook, Common Cooking for Simple Folk... Sorry, Simple Cooking for Common Folk... LAUGHTER

She, er... It's interesting that those two titles... Something not right. One of them's a snobbish title, and the other one's having a go at the mentally subnormal. Either way, in the cookbook, she devotes a whole chapter to whipping cream and says it's best done when wearing a tight rubber corset.

Rod? I'll go with the whipping cream bit. I don't believe the eggs or the corset. She devotes a whole chapter to whipping cream. No, she doesn't. What about the corset and the eggs? That's not true either. I've given up on the game, it's just a chat now.

This racy material greatly upset her husband, Randolph Beaton, who was a lay minister of the wee free kirk of the latter-day bigots. Oh, God. I believe he was a lay minister. He wasn't. What about a bigot? I don't really know what his broader views were. OK, what about this? Hitler was a bigot. Do I get a point?

No, you don't, but in not giving you a point, I wouldn't like people to think that I'm in any way condoning Hitler. You've got to be so careful. Tom. Randolph Beaton, the person we're talking about, Rod, not the leader of the German warmongering party. German warmongering party? I think people would have seen through it

if he'd done it that, obviously. That was his biggest problem. Just bad PR, really. I'd just like to say... It's all coming out now. Just bad PR, really. I'd just like to say that the BBC does not associate itself with Tom Rigglesworth's view that the only problem with Hitler

was that he had bad PR. The corporation separates itself from that, as I do personally. As do I. Other dictators are available. Tom. In today's age of fast food, it comes as a surprise that a brand like Mrs. Beaton remains a fixture on today's supermarket shelves. Sales of her famous

ready-made Yorkshire puddings defy the recession and grow year on year. Rod. The first bit was kind of difficult to argue against, wasn't it? That it's a surprise that Mrs. Beaton is still popular or something? In today's age of fast food, it comes as a surprise that a brand like Mrs. Beaton remains a fixture on today's supermarket shelf. There's no Mrs. Beaton brand, is there? Yeah, there is.

Oh, I get a point for that then. So you're saying that's true, Tom? Uh, no. Are you saying... What are you saying? It's not surprising? Is it a surprise? Well, I think it is a surprise that such an old brand like that is still...

Is it not, to you, a surprise? No. It comes as a surprise to you, Kevin, Lucy? Well, I don't think there is a Mrs. Beaton brand. It comes as a surprise to me to hear you say that. Because Tom says there is. Why don't we put it to the radio audience? Is there a brand Mrs. Beaton?

No! Oh, great. 50-50. Brilliant. And were there one, would it come as a surprise to you that it's still a fixture on our supermarket shelves? Yes! Thank you. Yeah, so really the key is the existence of the brand. If only the internet was a rear in Scotland.

Yeah. Well... We are checking and it looks like there is a Mrs. Beaton brand. Word from the producer there. So there's news just in. There is a brand called Mrs. Beaton

and I say it does come as a surprise that it's still a fixture on today's supermarket shelves and therefore you have inadvertently said a true thing, Tom, that Rod has successfully buzzed in on, and he gets a point. You won't believe this, Rod. Fingers on buzzers.

Her first job as a stunt double for Charlotte Bronte had to be abandoned when her bad knee let her down during a saloon brawl. Is your buzzer not working, Rod? I can't believe it. I'm pressing it like crazy. The producers have switched me off. She failed to make a success as a circus clown, and her career as the Paris racing correspondent for Sporting Life

was ended when she tried to burn down a cheese factory. the Paris racing correspondent for Sporting Life was ended when she tried to burn down a cheese factory. When asked what she had against cheese, Mrs Beaton stated famously that decomposing bodies are not wholesome eating. As a matter of fact, in later editions of her book, her chapter on cannibalism is omitted. Rod.

I'll go with the cheese bit. You're absolutely right. Thank you. Yeah. She said on the subject of cheese, it is well known that some persons like cheese in a state of decay and even alive. There is no accounting for tastes,

but generally speaking, decomposing bodies are not wholesome eating, and the line must be drawn somewhere. So take that, Stilton. When she died, Mrs Beaton's body lay undiscovered for three days before her husband finally lost patience and burst into the kitchen shouting,

how long do we have to wait for this bloody casserole? Upon realising the gruesome truth, Mrs Beaton kept his wife's death a secret from the public, fearing that the news would have an adverse effect on the sales of her book. Rod. Yeah, that's probably true. That is absolutely true, yes.

The fact of her death was kept quiet first by her husband, Sam, and then by the publishing firm that acquired his copyrights. Mrs Beaton herself actually died aged 28. Lucy. She did die young, I know that. She did, she died aged 28. Oh. Yes.

Well done. She did die young, I know that. She did. She died aged 28. Oh. Yes. Well done. The casserole was actually a recipe from a book by Eliza Acton, from whom Mrs Beaton shamelessly stole many ideas, including her recipe for pot noodles. Thank you, Tom. So, Tom, at the end of that round, you've managed to smuggle two truths past the rest of the panel,

which are that Mrs Beaton was for a time the Paris racing correspondent for The Sporting Life, publication created by her husband, Sam. And the other truth is that Mrs Beaton stole 150 recipes from Eliza Acton, as well as a number of others from published cookery books. In general, there was quite a lot of copying in her book and the Beatons were in no way as respectable a family as they presented

themselves to be, and her husband Sam went on to be a publisher of pornography, I think, and there's some suggestion that what she died of was something to do with syphilis, so, you know, they were dirty people. And that means, Tom, you scored two points.

Next up, one of the most famous bridges in Scotland, it's Kevin Bridges. Kevin. Kevin is from Glasgow, so don't worry, regular listeners, it's not your digital radios playing up. Your subject, Kevin, is the donkey, a long-eared domesticated member of the equidial horse family descended from the African wild ass.

Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. Off you go, Kevin. In Brooklyn, New York, it is illegal for a donkey to sleep in a hot tub. Donkey is a surprisingly recent word and was only introduced to remove confusion. Rod. I think donkey is a surprisingly recent word. I imagine it's the oldest word in the history of words. When was it invented? Introduced to remove confusion. Rod. I think donkey is a surprisingly recent word. It is. I imagine it's the oldest word in the history of words.

When was it invented? It was invented in the late 18th century. Wow! So, yes. That's incredibly recent. It was invented to remove confusion about the pronunciation between ass and arse. I want to go donkey riding. It's now a far more innocent and less ambiguous sounding request.

The amusingly voiced character named Donkey in the animated Shrek movies was loosely based on 2002 world snooker champion Peter Ebdon. Bradley Milton, the man who created the children's game Buckaroo, last year spent a fortnight in hospital after an ironic twist of fate which saw him kicked in the chest by a real-life donkey following his drunken attempts to place a frying pan on his back.

OK, a donkey who's been crossed with a Shetland pony. The offspring is called a Shetland ponky. Rod? I think they have crossed them. As far as I know, it's not true that a donkey's been crossed with a Shetland pony. As far as you know? Yep. OK, well, I know different.

OK, you can have ten of your points, but none of mine. Kevin. A ponky was then crossed with a dwarf miniature horse to produce an even smaller dinky donkey. Then two small dinky donkeys were crossed to produce a fridge magnet. Tom. Then two small dinky donkeys were crossed to produce a fridge magnet. Tom?

I believe the middle one was right. There was some sort of breeding to create a smaller donkey. I'm sure there's been some sort of breeding to create a smaller donkey at some point, but I don't think... I'll accept the point. No, I don't think a ponky, which I'd already told you was a thing that didn't exist, was crossed with a dwarf miniature horse. Yeah, you were after a few of my points.

A donkey sanctuary in Hailing Island was closed by health and safety officials from the RSPCA after it emerged that donkeys were being allowed to smoke. Lucy. Again, I just like the idea of smoking donkeys. Donkeys smoking or smoking of donkeys. Anyway, no, that's not true. There was no smoking in the sanctuary.

Because they sound raspy. So to give them cigarettes would just make them sound a little bit more kind of... Yeah. More horse. Yeah. Donkeys milk is said to have a similar effect to Viagra. I believe there would have been some sort of assumption that donkey's milk acted as an aphrodisiac

or some sort of staying power at one point or another. Absolutely right. Yeah, yeah. Harvey the tap-dancing donkey toured the American vaudeville circuit in the late 1920s. He was noted for his Fred Astaire impressions and a lively bucking wing routine. He came to an unfortunate end

at Pridley's Music Hall in Chicago, as luck would have it, John Dillinger was snoozing in the audience when Harvey began his act, and upon hearing the rat-a-tat of Harvey's hoofs and mistaking it for a submachine gun, Dillinger opened fire and shot Harvey dead. There's got to be a truth in there.

There's got to be one in there, hasn't there? That was too... Hit it, Rod. You buzz, and then we'll have a think. I'll buzz, and then I'll say something on your behalf. OK. I believe all of it. On behalf of Tom. OK, in which case Tom loses 19 points

No, no, I'm... Kevin Although donkeys are never mentioned in the Bible Christmas season sometimes saw the feast of the ass commemorating the donkey in the manger On this day people were supposed to bray like a donkey at the points in the mass where they would normally say Amen Was it donkey?

Although donkeys are never mentioned in the Bible? That's clearly not true. No, I didn't say it was true. No, no, no, okay. So I'm just advising you not to go for that bit. But I'll go for the second bit. You're absolutely right.

The second bit's true, yes. At Christmas, at Christmas, the Feast of the Ass commemorated the donkey in the manger. On this day, people were supposed

to bray like a donkey at the points in the mass where they would normally say amen. And that's the end of Kevin's lecture. Thank you. And at the end of that round, Kevin, you've managed to smuggle one truth past the rest of the panel, which was right at the beginning of your lecture, and it's that in Brooklyn, New York, it's illegal for a donkey to sleep in any sort of bathtub.

And that means, Kevin, you've scored one point. in Brooklyn, New York, it's illegal for a donkey to sleep in any sort of bathtub. And that means, Kevin, you've scored one point. In ancient Egypt, it was believed that the more donkeys you owned, the higher your status. We have the same thing nowadays, only using money. Of course, some donkeys suffer horrible cruelty, as a result of which many charitable foundations and sanctuaries for donkeys have been set up. These are great organisations to give money to if you find the RNLI a bit political and want to be absolutely sure that you won't inadvertently save any human lives. Now it's the turn of Lucy Porter.

Lucy is imminently expecting the arrival of her first child and is now one of the few comedians to have appeared on this programme who's actually taller lying down. Your subject, Lucy, is the police, an organised civil force concerned with maintaining order, preventing and detecting crime and enforcing the laws of the land. Off you go, Lucy. George Orwell worked as a policeman before turning

to a writing career. Kevin. That's true. Yes, that's absolutely true. I always think if you just put it in straight away, then you'll have that. But you're sharp, you're young. It's because he's young. He's listening all the way through.

It takes the others a little while to warm up. The term stakeout originated in the US in the 1930s, as the Philly Steak Sandwich was provided free of charge for officers who were working out of the station. Since the 1950s, US policemen have been instructed to snack only on doughnuts during stakeouts because the hole in the centre means you can conduct surveillance operations through the middle.

Right. I didn't hear the first bit, but I'll go for a truth. It's not true, I'm afraid. The stakeout has nothing to do with the steak sandwich and... Oh, is that what it was? I wouldn't have both known that. It's cheating, really, to listen to the words, though, isn't it?

I wonder if inadvertently I might have snuck a truth in. I didn't think about this, but the hole in the centre of a donut means you can conduct surveillance operations through the middle. True. In what way does it mean you can conduct surveillance operations through the middle? I mean, in what way is that any kind of subterfuge?

If you see someone, oh, don't notice him, he's just a man looking through some food. You might as well say that consomme allows you to conduct surveillance operations because it's not opaque like a cream soup. Well, that would be true as well. No, it would also be untrue. There just isn't this espionage world where what you need to do is look through food. Everyone would go,

there's a policeman holding food to his face. Only if he was dressed as a policeman, otherwise you'd just say, look at that fellow looking through a donut. But that makes him more noticeable than if he wasn't choosing to look through a donut or a clear soup. Not if the donut was on a donut. But that makes him more noticeable than if he wasn't choosing to look through a donut or a clear soup. Not if the donut was on a stick.

I say, I'm sorry, I say even if the donut is on a stick. I don't say, okay, it might look a little bit less. Is that some sort of doughy monocle? If I gave you two donuts and I said I want you to conduct a surveillance operation, you must use one of these donuts.

One has a ring in the middle, the other is solid. And you must put it in front of your eyes. Which one allows you... Do you know what? Which one allows you to conduct a surveillance operation? If you gave me two donuts, a ring donut and a jam donut, to conduct a surveillance operation, I'll tell you what I would do.

You must hold one of them in front of your eyes. I would use... No, no, no. You must hold one of them in front of your eyes. Now, you can't, no, no, you must hold one of them in front of your eyes. Now, you can't say that. I get to use them how I like. No, you don't. And I use one of them for sustenance and the other for bribery. This is...

This is my scenario. No, I'm not giving you the point. Lucy. I'll carry on. In 1910, Alice Wells was hired as the first policewoman in the United States and allowed to design her own uniform, leading to the invention of the revolutionary vibrating truncheon, which she insisted on taking with her at all times.

Right. First bit. Yes, first bit. You're absolutely right. Yeah. Alice Wells was the first woman police officer in the United States. TV hard man Ross Kemp was recently arrested for impersonating a police officer whilst performing a hidden camera stunt for BBC Three.

The arrest was particularly unfortunate as his own father was a policeman. He was arrested while filming an undercover thing for BBC Three. No. Right. Not that bit. Second bit. You can't have a point for it, but it is true that Ross Kemp's father was a policeman. Creators recently revealed that surreal police drama Ashes to Ashes

was actually inspired by Heartbeat, a surreal police drama in which audiences are trapped in a coma in the 1960s. In 1955, the police used a psychic horse called Lady Wonder to direct them to the site of a missing child's body. Tom. They absolutely did. They used a psychic horse called Lady Wonder to direct them to the site of a missing child's body. Tom. They absolutely did. They used a psychic horse. What can I say?

I'll let the buzzer do the talking, thank you. Well talked, Buzzer. You're absolutely right. They used a psychic horse... ..psychic horse called Lady Wonder to direct them to the site of a missing child's body by tapping out the message on a giant typewriter with her nose. Edinburgh policeman once rocked a car for two hours so that a

baby locked inside would sleep until they found a way of opening the doors. Kevin. Yeah, that's true. Yes, that's absolutely true. It was you? It's rather sweet, yeah. Here in Edinburgh, here in Edinburgh, the police are so sweet that they'll rock a car gently

for the best. That's lovely, isn't it? I mean, they sound woefully inappropriate for dealing with crime. And let's not forget that this is the heroin capital of Western Europe. But at least a baby got to sleep. And that's the end of Lucy's lecture. At the end of which, I'm afraid to say, Lucy, you've not managed to smuggle any truths past the rest of the panel and have therefore scored no points.

CHEERING The Lothian and Borders police force halved its crime figures by recategorising assaults, robbery and arson as suspicious occurrences. They now plan to further reduce the figures by recording murder as hijinks. Interestingly, the song I Am The Walrus by John Lennon was inspired partly by a two-tone police siren, but mainly by a tremendous amount of recreational drugs.

Which brings us to the final scores. In fourth place, with minus five points, we have Rod Gilbert. we have Rod Gilbert. In third place, with no points, it's Lucy Porter. And in joint first place, with two points each, it's this week's joint winners, Tom and Kevin. And that's about it for this week. All that remains is for me to thank our guests. They were all truly unbelievable, and that's the

Unbelievable Truth. Goodbye. The Unbelievable Truth was devised by John Naismith and Graham Garden, and featured David Mitchell in the chair, with panellists Lucy Porter, Kevin Bridges, Tom Rigglesworth and Rod Gilbert. The chairman's script was written by Dan Gaster and the producer was John Naismith.

It was a random production for BBC Radio 4.