oo mug welcome

CHRIS: When you naked, so shiver in the drizzle. Look at clothes by your feet, and think, "oh, yes. Warm." Then eat them by mistake.

When you dream be dream, but only of a gloomy lobtoast...
SAMPLE: I'm sad, and unhappy...

CHRIS: When you park so wrong ee headlights smash, bumper breaky shuttle bang, bang, bang, like fucking pinball...

And when your west no longer be west of your east, but above it, and mock you like Bad Candle Jack. Ho har, you dim muddlebum. And your north and south be be altogether gone, or loony.

Then oo welcome. Ah, oo mug welcome, in Blue Jam (echoes)

BOSS: What you're really angling for is a pay rise, isn't it?
EMPLOYEE: Well, yeah. I mean, last time you said that this time you'd be able do something about it.
BOSS: Mm.
EMPLOYEE: That was... it's nearly two years.
BOSS: Yes. Um...
EMPLOYEE: I mean, I've been doing a load of depping and acting up. I've taken on a bigger workload. I more or less ran the Flemish cookers. I mean, remember when Mr Hall lost his back?
BOSS: Ah yes, of course.
EMPLOYEE: So I was hoping for twelve percent.
BOSS: Yes. Well, as you know, it's very difficult at moment. We've lost quite a lot of big contracts lately - not your fault, I know, you've done some really excellent work. I just can't give you any more money at the moment.
EMPLOYEE: ...
BOSS: What I could do... is to stick some coloured reinforcement rings on my balls, make them look like eyes, and give you a photograph of them.
EMPLOYEE: Mm...
BOSS: And then we'll look at your pay rise again in the new year.
EMPLOYEE: Um...
BOSS: And in the meantime, you'll have a picture of my balls.
EMPLOYEE: Right...
BOSS: All right?
EMPLOYEE: Yeah.
BOSS: Good. Janet?
JANET (INTERCOM): Yeah?
BOSS: Could you bring through some coloured reinforcement rings, please?
EMPLOYEE: ...
BOSS: Right, thank you. Blue all right?
EMPLOYEE: Er, yes.
BOSS: Good let's just... one there... right, could you take a picture of that, please? Lift your cock up.
BOSS: Sorry?
EMPLOYEE: Lift it up, it's in the way.
BOSS: Oh, sorry. Okay, Janet? (whirr) Good. Thanks, Janet. Okay, well, that's yours. That's a very good pair of eyes, I think.
EMPLOYEE: Hmm...
BOSS: Okay, we'll review your pay situation next year.
EMPLOYEE: Okay, thanks very much.
BOSS: Okay then.
EMPLOYEE: ...
BOSS: Fucking hell...

DR PERLIN: Take a seat. Yes?
WOMAN: It's my knee. I sprained it last week, and it's still painful when I walk.
DR PERLIN: Mm-hmm. Just tell me, is there anything there? Can you feel anything, is it tender at all?
WOMAN: ...That's your leg.
DR PERLIN: Yes, it is. It's nicer than yours.
WOMAN: ...
DR PERLIN: You can leave me alone now.
WOMAN: Okay...
DR PERLIN: Bye.

VOICE: Radio 1 / And in the alley where they found Mark Radcliffe / There is a statue of a large black maggot / In memory of what they did to him.

BUILDER (VO): My name is Frank Sorrit. I've been a builder for twenty years. Roofing. Spending all the day up on the roof. Apart from lunchtimes, which is when I go swimming. I go round to the pool for best part of an hour. A bit crowded when I go, but the pool always feels more crowded than it looks.
MCGANZA (VO): Brendan McGanza. I run the Harworth Public Swimming Baths in Hawsley. I first noticed the builder about six months ago. Quite a big man, swimming up and down the pool, with about five or six people swimming alongside him.
SPOKES (VO): Doctor Paul Spokes. I'm a GP at the Hawsley Family I first became aware of this builder when patients with cases of long-term depression reported a complete clear-up in their symptoms. They'd all been going to the public swimming baths, going into the water, and swimming around with this big builder. This has a beneficial and curative effect. It cleared up the symptoms completely.
BUILDER (VO): People do touch me sometimes, yes. But I don't really know why.
MOTHER (VO): Dean was really wild, even for a six-year-old. He kept being sent home from school. He used to throw his dad around a lot as well. And then I heard about the builder thing. So we took him up to the pool, and he was really kicking and swearing and everything, but we pushed him in. And then the builder just sort came over to him and nudged him, and then swam off. And I thought, "Well, I don't think much of this." And then Dean started following him very slowly out into the middle of the pool... and then he just started singing. He was singing All Things Bright And Beautiful, like he was in a choir.
BUILDER (VO): Yes, I remember the singing boy. He... I just put that down to him being one of those simple kids, who doesn't know whether he's in a swimming pool or a church.
MCGANZA (VO): The plastic builders, yes. We... we've had these made up. Um, we fill them with swimming pool water straight after the builder's been in, and, er, £4.95. Sold over a hundred in the first week.
BUILDER: (VO)Well, it doesn't look like me. It doesn't look anything like me. What's that for, then?
INTERVIEWER (VO): As a memento of going swimming with you.
BUILDER (VO): I think that must be another builder. Looks like a builder, but it doesn't look like me.
MCGANZA (VO): The only real problem we had was when we found a bloke who inserted his hand into the builder's backside, got him to drag him round the pool that way. The builder didn't seem to mind, but I put a stop to it, because I really think... that doesn't look right.
BUILDER (VO): He said that about me? Well... what if I have got a special power, then? And that special power also means that I've got a big gun... and I'll bring it into the swimming pool? Eh? What would they think about that, then? I think we should leave it there.

DR PERLIN: Come in. Ah, yes, come in. Now, sit down. What seems to be the problem?
WOMAN: I've come in about this pulled tendon.
DR PERLIN: Mm-hmm? Well, let's have a look.
WOMAN: Doctor Harris told me to come back if the pain didn't ease up.
DR PERLIN: And he told you this was a pulled tendon?
WOMAN: Yes.
DR PERLIN: Hmm. Do you mind just hanging on a second?
WOMAN: Sure.
DR PERLIN: Won't take a second. ...Yeah, Jim? ...Michael. Got Jean Lamb here, saying you had a look at a pulled tendon. ...It's not a fucking pulled tendon. ...It's nothing like a pulled tendon, you sooty wank stain! Sorry about this, but he's being a real cloud of anal pus about your tendon.
WOMAN: Oh... right...
DR PERLIN: ...Yeah, why don't you? ...Right now! this shouldn't take a second, I'm just going to show Doctor Harris what a roaring purple vagina he is.
WOMAN: Oh...
DR HARRIS: Michael?
DR PERLIN: Right, Jim. Just look at that wrist, you fucking paedophile, and tell me seriously that's a pulled tendon!
DR HARRIS: Right, Jean, could you just tell me where the pain is..?
DR PERLIN: Tch! Huh...
DR HARRIS: Well, feels like a pulled tendon to me.
DR PERLIN: Do you think it's a pulled tendon?
WOMAN: Well, it does feel like...
DR PERLIN: Don't be taken in by his swooning arse-piss!
DR HARRIS: Michael, her symptoms are pretty consistent...
DR PERLIN: Oh, her symptoms are consistent? I can't believe that decent people are coming in here every day, to listen to such a bawling fart-ravine!
DR HARRIS: Michael, I don't think there's much point...
DR PERLIN: You're fucking right there isn't, you serial rapist!
DR HARRIS: Right, I'm going to leave now.
DR PERLIN: Oh, that's right, play the little erupted fish-arse when it suits you!
DR HARRIS: Bye.
WOMAN: Bye.
DR PERLIN: I hope some mustardy cock explodes up your cocoa-valve! Jesus and his rubber twat bomb..! Sorry about that. What an unbelievable clit!
WOMAN: Hmm...
DR PERLIN: And you didn't help matters, did you, joining in on his side like that, you little wanky window?
WOMAN: Sorry.
DR PERLIN: Let's see that wrist again.
WOMAN: So... you don't think it's a pulled tendon?
DR PERLIN: No, no.
WOMAN: It certainly feels like a pulled tendon.
DR PERLIN: ...Oh, perhaps it is, then. Yeah. It probably is.
WOMAN: Right...
DR PERLIN: Well, we'll get that strapped up for you, give you some painkillers...
WOMAN: Thanks...
DR PERLIN: Not at all.
WOMAN: Bye-bye, then.
DR PERLIN: Yep. Bye.
WOMAN: Bye...

VOICE: Radio One.
SYNTHESISED: I can see Steve Lamacq
HIGH VOICE: Lamacq.
SYNTHESISED: As a frail old man in a wheelchair
VOICE: Huh!
SYNTHESISED: Trying to shake hands with an elephant.
(simian laughter)

HIM: I was trying to warm my hands in a discarded bap when the police picked me up and took me to the station for an identity parade. They said a local travel agent had been steamed by a naked old man. I was needed to make up the numbers. "I'm not an old man," I said. "We don't believe you." A short while later, I was standing in the nude between a very old woman and an energetic old man with a home-made Prince Albert. "They'll never identify me with this on," he said, indicating his hastily-pierced penis. They didn't. We left the station together. I was in some discomfort, as my clothes didn't seem to fit any more. I could hear the old woman from the parade shouting after me, so I hurried on because it felt like school. "Nice work," said the old man, whose name was Gerard. "What's she got in her pockets?" He was very chuffed. He jangled his chain and farted incomprehensibly. In one of her pockets was a tube of old woman's cream. It smelled of marzipan, but tasted better. Half an hour later, I was sitting on a traffic island, squeezing the cream out. I had been aiming for the pub with Gerard, but I couldn't keep up, and he said he couldn't walk any slower, and by the time I got to the pub I had forgotten which one it was. I was annoyed with the tube of cream, because it contained air pockets. I slapped its middle, and produced several large splats. One of them landed on a nearby shoe. It was somewhat too narrow, in patent leather, with little silver guitars on the ends of the laces. I looked up the shoe, past lemon and chocolate socks and ironed jeans to a blue leisure jacket, out of which poked the smiling neckless head of Graeling Barraclough. I had known him on and off for twenty years. We were at school together. I had set him on fire once behind the gym. If he was disappointed by my appearance, he didn't hide it. "Hidey-doody," he said. He was a television director now. He was filming some close-ups of the road with his crew. "I'm filming some close-ups of the road," he said, "for stylistic reasons." I left a short gap, and told him about the identity parade. "Hey," he said, and his mouth leaped slightly. "I'm about to do a reconstruction of that very crime." He pointed to the travel agent's across the road. Two extras were hovering round the corner in dressing gowns. I told him that only one man had robbed the shop. I like facts. "Not any more," he said, and added, "you berked-up little ape." I assumed he was right in some way. "Sorry," he said rubbong his nose vigorously. "I'm jamming on crusty white." Then he said, "Now hear me right out," and explained that this was a new departure in crime reconstruction. "The victims don't know we're coming," he jabbered. "I've got three cameras hidden there, there and there." His neck swelled with pride as he announced that these were three of the most brilliant camera angles in the history of crime reconstruction television. "He must enjoy shitting himself," I thought. He hurried off to a secret position in a building opposite the travel agent's. A few moments later, the two extras ran naked round the corner into the shop. There was a sound of muffled gunfire from inside. I was fairly certain the extras weren't carrying guns. I played with my cream. Two minutes later, a police car sped by, with the wretched face of Graeling Barraclough pressed to the window, looking as though the world had got a lot bigger and rougher than when I last saw him. Eight months later, I read on a piece of newspaper I was eating that Graeling had gone to Hollywood, and been fatally injured in some sort of sex accident.

EMPLOYEE: So basically, I mean, I'm just asking for a pay rise.
BOSS: Mm. So how much were you thinking of?
EMPLOYEE: Well, twelve percent.
BOSS: If I give you twelve percent, I have to do that for everybody.
EMPLOYEE: It's just that I've put in a lot of extra time, you know? Weekends, evenings, every week for the last four months or so. So...
BOSS: Look, what if I give you five percent?
EMPLOYEE: Five percent?
BOSS: And... I'll also get Louise in here, and you can watch me wrestle her to the ground and sit on her head.
EMPLOYEE: ...What?
BOSS: And then... fart on it?
EMPLOYEE: What, you'd... fart on Louise's..?
BOSS: Yes.
EMPLOYEE: Y...
BOSS: Look, do you want me to do this or not?
EMPLOYEE: Er, yeah. Yeah.
BOSS: Louise, could you just pop through here a second?
LOUISE (INTERCOM): Certainly. Do you want coffee?
BOSS: No, thank you.
EMPLOYEE: ...
BOSS: ...Right, now, Louise, you know Andrew, don't you?
EMPLOYEE: Hello...
LOUISE: ...Hnn! Ow, ow!
BOSS: Right, hold still...
LOUISE: What are you doing!?
BOSS: Keep still or I'll break your neck.
LOUISE: I can't breathe!
BOSS: Now, hang on, hang on... (fart)
LOUISE: OH..! Oh!
BOSS: I'm sorry, Louise. I'll explain.
LOUISE: What are you DOING!?
BOSS: Could you just... just go, please? I'm sorry. I will explain. You'd better go too, please, Andrew.
EMPLOYEE: All right... right, thanks.
BOSS: Thank you. ...Louise, could you pop back in here a moment, please? ...Louise, I... I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry. It was the only way I could get him to agree.
LOUISE: You farted on my head!
BOSS: I know. Really... he really deserved more than we could give him. I had to do it, it was the only way.
LOUISE: But... I just... (sobs)
BOSS: I'm so sorry.
LOUISE: ...
BOSS: It was only a fart.
LOUISE: Mm...

BOSS: It was only a fart.
BOSS: It was only a fart.
BOSS: It was only a fart.

CASHIER: I was just like, standing at the counter at reception, and this bloke come in, and he gets this like, purple rabbit bag out of his pocket, and he just like tips all these little bits of metal out and spills them onto the counter, and we're just staring at him going "what you doing?" and he just ignores me, and he's putting together these bits of metal, like, everyone in the queue was like leaning over his shoulder, going "what you doing?" he's got like a screwdriver and a mini drill thing, he's whizzing away with it, like, really intricate, and then suddenly he goes "it's okay, I've finished," and he's made this whopping big gun! And he just points it at us and robs us! And everyone were like, really upset, and we're going, "what are you... you just spoilt it for us!" And he just walked out, with this just, this big grin right across his face.

SYNTHESISED: Radio One / And in the distance / I could see a giant Si / mon Mayo / crashing round / the funfair and pissing on the fleeing women's heads.

DAVID: Did you mention to Jill how much Ted liked his Lego? He's made a great space ship.
SUE: I was a bit worried because it said eight- to ten-year-olds on the box.
DAVID: Yeah, but he's pretty bright for a six-year-old.
SUE: Yeah...
DAVID: Incidentally, did he come home from school today?
SUE: ...No. No, he didn't. He should have been home about six hours ago...
DAVID: Mm. That's odd, isn't it?
SUE: Do you think we should call someone?
DAVID: ...Nah. (yawns) He probably just decided to stay overnight at the school...

DAVID: ...Ted? ...No, we haven't seen him for about two weeks. ...Heh, yeah. ...Well, if you see him, tell him to pop home. ...Okay, see you Friday. Bye. (hangs up) Dinner with Simon on Friday.
SUE: Shall I book a babysitter?
DAVID: Nah, he's not going to turn up now. ...You don't suppose he thought we were picking him up from school?
SUE: Maybe I'd better give Mrs Hill a call, just to check if he's been standing outside for a couple of weeks.
DAVID: Mm, good idea.
SUE: (dials) Hello, hi. ...Yes, it's Sue Belgium here. ...Just calling about Ted, in Primary Three? ...Mm. Um, we were just wondering if he'd been hanging around outside the school waiting to be picked up. ...Really? (She saw a bloke pick him up.) ...Yeah. (He handled him quite roughly, apparently.)
DAVID: Did the man have a car?
SUE: (Yeah.) ...Right, yeah.
DAVID: Mm, good. It was horribly rainy.
SUE: ...Yeah. Mm.
DAVID: Do you think the man knew about his eczema?
SUE: ...Yeah. Sorry, Mrs Hill, you don't know if this man knew Ted was on goat's milk only, do you? ...No, just wondered. ...So he really bundled him into the back? ...Yes, yeah. ...Well, thanks a lot. ...Yeah, will do. ...Bye-bye. (hangs up)
DAVID: Sounds like we'll find him in the woods, then.
SUE: Hmm.
DAVID: Okay, pass the phone. I'll get some of the lads, to have a look on Saturday morning. (dials) ...Yeah, Mike? David. ...All right. How's Jill? ...Yeah, we'll have to do that again! ...Listen, Mike, um, you watching the match in the pub on Saturday? ...You couldn't join me and some of the lads to crawl around the woods before kick off? ...Yeah, Ted's gone missing. ...About two weeks. ...He was picked up from school by some dodgy-sounding bloke. ...Can you do that? ...Oh, great. Bring a spade. ...Yeah, about two o'clock. Great. ...Cheers. (hangs up)
SUE: Will you need a spade?
DAVID: Well, I don't know if he'll have been buried or just left out.
SUE: Be easier if he's been left out.
DAVID: Yeah, fucking easier...

(phone rings)
DAVID: Hello? ...Speaking. ...Oh, have you? ...Right. (They've found a body, love.)
SUE: Oh!
DAVID: ...Yeah. ...Yeah, er... can't really come over this evening. Um, some time this week? ...Mm. (They want us to go over and identify him.)
SUE: Can they bring him round?
DAVID: Yeah, could you bring him over? ...Well, we're just sort of doing something at the moment. Um, what about bunging him in a cab? ...All right.
SUE: What about his glasses?
DAVID: Oh, yeah, has he got blue plastic-framed glasses on? ...Oh, well, I'm pretty sure that's him then. Blue frames. ...Heh, make him look rather studious, yeah. ...Sounds like him. Well, that's good enough for us, yeah. ...So what do you do now, chuck him away? ...Oh. Can't you just..? ...Mm. Yeah, I suppose. ...All right, well, we'll see what we can do. ...Okay. Thanks a lot. ...Cheers. (hangs up)
SUE: What was that, love?
DAVID: We'll have to pick him up and bury him.
SUE: Oh. Did they say what he'd been doing?
DAVID: Well, it sounds like he was buggered quite a lot and then strangled.
SUE: Oh. That's a bit much.
DAVID: Yeah, apparently it was that bloody Mike Holland that did it! I'll have a word with him next time I see him.
SUE: Yeah, well, you can tell him I'm pretty pissed off as well.
DAVID: Mike Holland...
SUE: Well, I always thought he was a bit of a twit.
DAVID: Yeah...

CHRIS: When you naked, so shiver in the drizzle. Look at clothes by your feet, and think, "oh, yes. Warm." Then eat them by mistake.

When you dream be dream, but only of a gloomy lobtoast...
SAMPLE: I'm sad, and unhappy...

CHRIS: When you park so wrong ee headlights smash, bumper breaky shuttle bang, bang, bang, like fucking pinball...

And when your west no longer be west of your east, but above it, and mock you like Bad Candle Jack. Ho har, you dim muddlebum. And your north and south be be altogether gone, or loony.

Then oo welcome.
Ah, oo mug welcome, in Blue Jam (echoes)