oo voof welcome

CHRIS: When ee heads fall tails a thousand times, so call heads tails both. But coin then lands on third side... the inside...
TENOR: Inside...

CHRIS: When you fly, so wingish speed. Then thwack. Ee path be glass, and broke-beak slump on ground, all quiver-pigeon. While rattus rub hands in the shadows.

And when ee sing so full with bursting soul, ee heart fly out of mouth! And then bashed be bit by all with ears, who cry "shut, shut, shut it up, oo cackamuffin..."

Then welcome.
Mm, oo vuf welcome, in Blue Jam (echoes)

DR PERLIN: Right. Paul Meek?
MAN: Yeah.
DR PERLIN: So, what can I do for you?
MAN: Well, I've done all these muscles under my arm here, lifting a crate awkwardly. I was all right... till this morning, I woke up and I can't move this shoulder at all now.
DR PERLIN: Right, it's just around here, is it?
MAN: Yeah.
DR PERLIN: I see. Right, well, um, what I'm think I'm going to do with this is, I'm going to do it over the phone, okay? Um, just stay there while I go next door. I'll ring through, and you pick up the phone. Okay?
MAN: Right...
DR PERLIN: Right, I'll speak to you in a minute.
MAN: ...
(phone rings)
DR PERLIN: Paul. Right, now tell me just exactly where the pain is. ...Um, look, could you just hang on a moment? (Look, um, could you keep your voice down? Because I can hear you through the door. There's no point in my doing this over the phone if I can hear you through the door, is there?)
MAN: Okay...
DR PERLIN: ...So, when did this happen? ...Ah, look, I'm sorry, this isn't a very good line. Why don't you call me back? ...Yeah, it's 302. Thanks. (hangs up)
(phone rings)
DR PERLIN: Hello, Bath Green Health Centre? ...I'm sorry, who is this? ...Paul Meek? ...Well, I can't see you now, I'm with a patient. ...Look, is this an emergency? ...Well, then, come in on Thursday morning. ...Hello? ...Hello?
MAN: Yeah, Doctor...
DR PERLIN: (Could you hang on a minute? I'm on the phone.)
MAN: But Doctor, I was just wondering if it would be easier...
DR PERLIN: ...Hello? (Yeah, could you just wait outside?) ...Hello? (Honestly... bad enough...) ...Hello? ...Oh, there you are. ...Er, right, ten o'clock on Thursday all right? ...Good, well, I'll see you then. And could you go through the reception next time? I'm not the secretary. ...Right-o, bye-bye. (hangs up)
MAN: ...
DR PERLIN: Right, so, er, what's the story?
MAN: I've have to come back Thursday...
DR PERLIN: Okay, then. I'll see you then.
MAN: I was wondering if you could just give me a...
DR PERLIN: About ten o'clock?
MAN: Um...
DR PERLIN: Yes?
MAN: ...Nothing.

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)

IRATE: Day before yesterday, I pick my car up from the garage. Geezer says, "Over there, mate, key's in the ignition." And I look, I cannot bloody believe it. The car is only four feet long! I... I said, "What's this!?" He goes, "It's your car." I said, "What do you mean, it's my fucking car!?" He said, "Oh, that was what it was like when you drove it in here." I said, "Don't fuck me about, how could I drive that in!? It's only two foot six tall!" He goes, "Oh, you must have put on some weight." I thought I was going fucking mad! Then the manager comes up. I said, "What the fuck's going on? I paid good money for this!" And he goes, "What's wrong with it?" I said, "What do you mean, what's wrong with it!? Look at the SIZE of it!" He goes, "What?" I said, "It's only about FOUR FUCKING FOOT LONG, what the FUCK have you done to it!?" Then he says, "Oh, well, that was what it was like when it came in." He goes, "I particularly remember that one because I used to have one myself." A fucking four foot Vauxhall carton, oh fucking yes! I said, "Is that it, then?" I said, "Is that what I have to drive away!?" And he said, "It's your car. Take it or leave it, it's up to you." So I... I just had to fucking squeeze into it, didn't I!? Fucking knees round my ears, in this FOUR FUCKING FOOT CAR that's only TWO FOOT SIX TALL! I mean, what am I, FUCKING NODDY!?

IRATE: FUCKING NODDY!?
IRATE: NODDY!?
IRATE: NODDY!?
IRATE: Fucking knees round me ears...
IRATE: Fucking knees round me ears...
IRATE: ...mad!

MANAGER: Yeah, my name's Rupert Gresham. I'm a pop manager. I manage pop bands. I have eight major bands on my books at the moment. Er... I mean, to tell you the truth, I haven't actually spoken to them for about five years. I don't know where they've gone. You know, that's obviously something I'm looking into.

HIM: I had been in the pub three hours, talking to a guy I used to work with called Ian, before I realised he wasn't Ian at all, and I was in the wrong pub. By that stage he was very cross. He poked me in the chest, and asked me if I was some sort of puppy squeezer. I didn't know what he meant. He had me thrown out for it. I walked the street until I came to a doorway where I used to lean when I was married to a wife. I think I've forgotten her name now. No, I haven't. It was Rosalind. Hmm. Yes, I have. I had intended to empty the pub out of my bladder here, but the doorway was lit up and surrounded by film cameras. Hydraulic pistons poked out of the side of the building. A beautiful girl sat where I used to lean, holding a bunch of leaves to her face and inhaling deeply, while an assistant applied make-up to her nose and teeth. Next to her, an elephant was being made up too. It wore a special jacket with fireworks attached. Grey foundation was being applied to its trunk. The model was asking if the elephant had been given its breakfast. She said it shouldn't be expected to do this work without eating homeopathically fireproofing seeds. She'd insisted on it in her contract. She got up, put her arms around its trunk, and said "Let there be peace among mammoths." Some models use cigarettes. Some use heroin. My bladder was conker-hard and big as a saucepan. A girl came up and asked me if I was with the elephant. I looked at the elephant, and I looked at her and wished she was a lavatory. She handed me a script. It said "Location shoot: The Eden Currant account." Behind me a man started bawling into his hand. It crackled with sounds of obedience. He was the director. After ten minutes, he was ready for someone to tell his assistant to say "action," and the model became immediately concerned about the cameras, and asked if they were meat-free. The director slowly explained that this was a spiritualised camera, in which the lenses were made of glass, not meat. I think she felt better. The cameras rolled again. The model started chewing the leaves, and smoke poured from the doorway behind her. In the script, it said "ignite elephant." A man lit the elephant, and it walked forwards with fireworks going off on its back. As it passed the model, a squib shot off and landed in her intricate cinnamon hat. The script made no mention of this. Aromatic flames sprouted in the bark. Some of the crew wanted to stop filming. Others wanted to tell her to look out, as she was still lost to her leaves. A skirmish between horror and fascination broke out on the director's face. With a sudden pang of decision, he ordered half the cameras to stop, and the other half to keep rolling, and screamed "Somebody help the bitch, but not yet," at the same time leaping up and down and slamming himself in the balls. The model realised she was on fire. She scrambled to her feet, tripped, and dived under the elephant, where she thrashed around magnificently. The stupefied animal urinated like a burst lorry, and put her head out. The elephant was still on fire. The model looked at me from the middle of her steaming lake. Something in her eyes spoke to my bladder. Suddenly I too was pissing like a king, all over the elephant's flaming back and ears. I continued to empty for a full two minutes after the fires had gone out. As they wheeled the model to the ambulance, one of her assistants called me over. "This is the man who put out the elephant," they said. She pulled a strand of damp hair from her eyes. "Thanks to you, I'm going to give all this up," she said. I nodded. "I'm going to dedicate my life to abused elephants. Maybe when I save them, they will teach things to men, like Sarah taught you about putting out fire with the natural aquas of belly." I wanted to tell her how gaudy she was, even when moist and smelling of damp compost. "You stink of piss and you're thick as shitty jam," I said. As I left, I found a man sitting on the ground with his head in his hands. "You're sad," I said, indicating his face. He pointed to a mass of hydraulics. "I was supposed to make the building smile with my pistons. The Eden account makes buildings smile." As he scrunched disconsolately at the gravel, I stood on one of his hands.

VOICE: And as Jo Whiley is slowly chopped to pieces, we glimpse Mark Goodier, rubbing his genitals in the warm, gloopy mess.

SAMPLE: Hello!
SAMPLE: Hello!
SAMPLE: Hello!

SAMPLE: I want to dance. Can you help me?

MICHAEL ALEXANDER ST JOHN: And so to the top ten cocky slivers pruning the bum fluff in the nation's spaz garage.

SAMPLE: I want to dance. Can you help me?

MICHAEL ALEXANDER ST JOHN: Straight off the plate at number ten, Group Mongy Mong with "Fat Weeping Bitch." A tribute to The Wootangs' Geezer, recorded in case you were shot, and released last week by mistake.

SAMPLE: I WANT TO DANCE. CAN YOU HELP ME?

MICHAEL ALEXANDER ST JOHN: Little Richard at nine, "You Have No Idea How Wide My Eyes Can Get," that's the oh, Christ, he's using tyre levers version from Gun-proof Grandad. That features Keith Prodigy eating an unopened tin of rice.

Absolutely no move at number seven, it's up three for the Portilloheads' "Give Me Professional Neck" mixed by themselves and then unmixed by DJ Mrs Clark from Egham.

Down fourteen at number six, it's the Rolodex Team with "Did God Just Fart On My Decks?" Great ambient clown remix of that, too.

Now, it's been in and out of the number five position all year, this one. It's The Current Size Of India, and "Putting Me In Mind Of Attractive Women." And you won't find a better example of mad face than that!

Good to see DJ Neutrino back in the charts. He's at number four with his Power of Random Sodomy Collective, doing their version of the Feltforest classic, "Manhattan In My Wristwatch." Killer sampling there, too, from the seventies floorpillar Burl's A Swinger.

A controversial number three this week, since it's really only number eleven. It's the guy who invented large armhouse - Puffy Cousin and Renegade Chipshop, with "Sorry About The Concrete, You Should Be Able To Walk Out Of Your First Floor Window Once It Sets." That's already a classic plantain.

Number two: DJ Mumps with his historic premix of this year's as yet unrecorded Christmas number one, Robbie William's mum singing "We've Got The Builders In."

And so, yet again, it's straight in at number one for the third week running - and there's been real heavy rotation for this particular pringle! - it's DJ Spam Din with Runny Sneeze, and "Totally Impervious From Mandelson." So, who said suburban plum and suitcase was dead?

NEWSAGENT: Yeah, I was just cashing up last Tuesday, and this bloke comes into the shop. He comes up to the counter and he says he's got this gun in his stomach. And that it's pointed straight at my head, and I should hand over the money. I mean, I just, I thought, another nutter in off the street. Then he pulls this weird face, and there was an almighty bang, and then the bloke standing just behind him, old fella, falls over with this bullet in his neck! Meanwhile, he's just standing there, the bloke with the gun in his stomach, just, half his back blown out all over the place, and he's just shouting, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Over and over. He was furious!

BENTHAM: Just here, please. Thank you.
(taxi door closes)
DOORMAN: Morning, sir.
BENTHAM: Morning.
RECEPTIONIST: Good morning, Mr Bentham.
BENTHAM: Good morning. A little early this morning.
RECEPTIONIST: Perhaps you'd like a coffee?
BENTHAM: Yes. Black, please. No sugar.
RECEPTIONIST: I'll just let Mr Reilly know you're waiting... Mr Bentham's here now.
BENTHAM: ...
RECEPTIONIST: ...
BENTHAM: Thank you.
RECEPTIONIST: ...
BENTHAM: Nice morning.
RECEPTIONIST: Yes.
BENTHAM: ...
RECEPTIONIST: ...
BENTHAM: ...
RECEPTIONIST: ...Right, thanks. Would you like to go through..?
BENTHAM: Thank you.
REILLY: Ah, Mr Bentham, do come on in.
BENTHAM: Good morning.
REILLY: And how are you?
BENTHAM: Very well, thank you. And yourself?
REILLY: Oh, excellent, excellent. Have a seat.
BENTHAM: ...
REILLY: Right, so where was it?
BENTHAM: Er, it's a London number. PJ Perrin. Foster Walk, in Chiswick.
REILLY: Ah, let's see now... Perrin? Ah, yes. Here's your number. 0181 995 1732.
BENTHAM: Right, thanks very much.
REILLY: Always a pleasure. Bye, then.
BENTHAM: Goodbye.
REILLY: Goodbye, Mr Bentham.
BENTHAM: ...
RECEPTIONIST: Goodbye, Mr Bentham.
BENTHAM: Goodbye.
DOORMAN: Bye-bye, sir.
BENTHAM: Good bye. Taxi... Er, taxi!

VOICE: Mary Anne Hobbs / Now little more than a bag of lymph / Is rolled from the studio / And drained into a sink.

LANDLORD: ...to have a cup of tea, and to sit down and sort things out, go through things, and it's awfully dark early, isn't it, and it's nice to have company at that time of day. I did have one very awkward tenant, I do try and be fair, but she just wouldn't move out, even though I'd become extremely unhappy with the way she'd been breaking the lodger's agreement with regard to the use of lights in her room. I do like them to turn off the lights which are in the part of the room that they're not actually in at that time. I insist on that, otherwise I can't keep the rents up, and it's very difficult, and it makes me unhappy to sit and watch a tenant on the video monitor that... I have a monitor in each room, just to ensure proper conduct in the house. They don't actually know about them, but that's part of the tenant's agreement I have with myself. And it does make me extremely unhappy to watch them breaking this house rule. Now, this girl was also having too many guests. I don't mind any number of guests in what I call moderation. Most of my tenants don't have too many, as it happens, certainly overnight guests are extremely rare, but I do have a rule with myself again that if they do have an overnight guest then I will turn the video off. But it does seem to me that most of them prefer to masturbate. But this girl had what I felt was one too many guests, and she really wasn't fitting in with the house in general, she was creating a bad atmosphere. So I told her quite simply, but she refused to take the hint, and I am extremely civil in all my dealings with my tenants, there's only been one unpleasant incident in twenty seven years, and that was when I'd had a chap who'd been in the Secret Service, and he used to just sit in his room and stare out of the window straight onto a brick wall all day, and he'd actually asked for a room with a view of a brick wall and I'd given him one, I mean, it was harmless enough, but he also used to slide down the banisters in a rather disruptive way, and I thought in the end the best thing would be if I shot him. And I did that, with the co-operation of the Home office, you know, they'd had a lot of trouble with him too, they'd tried to scrub his brain with a wire brush, but you can't be sure, so he ended up taking an assisted dive down the stairwell, I mean, but that was in the Sixties. You couldn't do that now, I wasn't going to do that with this girl, I was being very civil with this girl, but she wasn't moving out, and eventually I gave her an ultimatum, and I said, if you're not out by next weekend, I will have to evict you formally, and she said oh, I have my rights, and I thought well, we're getting into a bit of a mess here, so I just waited until the Sunday night, and she hadn't gone, and I could see she was asleep on the video monitor, so I went down to her room... I do have a key for each room, just for the odd occasion when I have to sluice them out. And I went in, and I tiptoed to the bottom of her bed and lifted up her nightclothes, I took out a scalpel, a very sharp scalpel, I used to be a medical student, and I slivered the thinnest possible layer of skin from the bottom of her foot. And it just came away like a sort of silk insole, and I took it out, and I put it under a shrub, and the next morning I looked at her and she looked at me and there was no kind of vibe at all, no, it was very pleasant, and the next night I did exactly the same thing, took another thin sliver of skin from the bottom of her foot and I did that again, and again and again, every night, until three months later I went in there and she wasn't there at all. And I went out and I looked under the shrub, and she wasn't there either. And that's how I get rid of any tenant who doesn't want to leave now.

PSYCHIATRIST: I'm afraid your wife's mental condition is not particularly encouraging.
MAN: Mm...
WOMAN: Ah...
PSYCHIATRIST: She's certainly had a major breakdown...
MAN: Mm...
PSYCHIATRIST: ...and I'm afraid that's just the start.
MAN: Ah...
PSYCHIATRIST: It will lead to increasingly distressing behaviour.
MAN: Ah, mm...
PSYCHIATRIST: She will fail to recognise you, she'll lose control of her body...
WOMAN (VO): We find it very exciting, when we're having sex, to have someone there pretending to be a psychiatrist, who diagnoses one of us as severely mentally ill.
PSYCHIATRIST: ...and I have to say that within a very short time, she'll be almost permanently deranged.
MAN: OH!
WOMAN (VO): We once went courting in the canteen of an asylum.
PSYCHIATRIST: In short, she's degenerating into schizophrenia, and there's very little we can do for her.
MAN: AH! AH! AH! AH! OH!
WOMAN: Unh! Ha ha ha!

MICHAEL ALEXANDER ST JOHN: ...this particular pringle, the Monastery of Sound. Okay, so, who said suburb... oh, shit!

CHRIS: When ee heads fall tails a thousand times, so call heads tails both. But coin then lands on third side... the inside...
TENOR: Inside...

CHRIS: When you fly, so wingish speed. Then thwack. Ee path be glass, and broke-beak slump on ground, all quiver-pigeon. While rattus rub hands in the shadows.

And when ee sing so full with bursting soul, ee heart fly out of mouth! And then bashed be bit by all with ears, who cry "shut, shut, shut it up, oo cackamuffin..."

Then welcome.
Mm, oo vuf welcome, in Blue Jam (echoes)