Dead Ringers

Fellow Americans, weapons inspectors have arrived on the ground in the Iraqi capital.

My good friend, Bulgarian prime minister Lionel Blair,

says the search is being led by a man trusted never to give up the hunt.

Welcome to "Weapons Hunt", with me, David Dickinson,

Peter Stringfellow on a budget.

I'm in downtown Baghdad.

I've uncovered a stockpile of potentially lethal chemicals.

That's just the 15 cans of hairspray in my luggage! One for the ladies!

OK, let's see what we've got. A rusty bomb.

But know the hallmark. "1985. Made in the UK." Surely a duffer.

But this is a bit special.

Some depleted plutonium dating back 10 or 12 years,

maybe left behind by a superpower in a rush.

Weapon hunters, this is a real collectors' piece.

A nuclear bomb! Is it in working order? Let's find out.

Oh, dear! Radiation's been spread for miles around.

On the plus side, everyone now has my lurid complexion.

What a bobby dazzler! International diplomacy, cheap as chips.

It's true I've handed over £3 billion to Colonel Gaddafi

so I'll have a place to flee to after the war.

Why Libya? Because £3 billion wouldn't be enough

to get me started on the property ladder in Britain.

I had my heart set on a maisonette in Surbiton.

On BBC One, a programme about the New Labour drama "The Project",

following the story of the handful of mysterious people

who bothered to watch it all the way through. Now, "Newsnight".

I'm Kirsty Wark. (SPEAKS GIBBERISH)

Those headlines again with the consonants reinstated.

After the worst week in living memory for the Royal family,

the Palace has released a statement on Paul Burrell.

As with other Royal tragedies, it's delivered by Sir Elton John.

# Goodbye, Paul Burrell

# You cried only as a true friend can

# Shedding tears for Princess Di

# As you loaded up the van

# And it seemed to me when you got off

# You should have shut your craw

# Then the papers wouldn't be making you out

# To be camper than Barrymore

# You said Diana spoke in colour

# The Queen in black and white

# Which of course makes you the one

# Who speaks in fluent shite #

Take it or leave it, Prince Charles's cuff links are 50 quid.

Prince Edward's nipple clamps are a fiver.

A nerve gas attack, scheduled for London Underground, won't now happen.

The Al-Qaeda terrorists involved are on strike.

They said, with the fire fighters' dispute, it's too dangerous to work there.

They may be suicidal, but they're not stupid.

This week on "Celebrity Fit Club", Ann Widdecombe attempts to go the distance.

I've been getting a few angry calls from my constituents,

saying they'd rather not see their MP in a freak show full of nobodies.

But I've assured them being in the Tory Party

doesn't interfere one bit with my work at Celebrity Fit Club.

New from BBC Enterprises, a DVD all Alan Rickman fans can treasure.

Alan Rickman plays the token baddie in Hollywood films.

Who can forget his performance in "Die Hard"?

I'll get you, John McClane!

Or his Sheriff of Nottingham?

I'll get you, Robin of Sherwood!

And his towering performance in "Harry Potter".

I'll get you, Harry Potter!

Also includes Alan Rickman confronting his agent

the moment it dawned on him he was now hopelessly typecast.

I'll get you, you lousy agent!

Buy this

and get "Judi Dench Plays Every Woman Over 40 In Every British Film" free!

Hello, I'm Iris Murdoch. I'll get you, A.S. Byatt!

People think all Russell Crowe is about is stealing other men's wives

and brawling at ceremonies. Nonsense.

I'm happy stealing men's fiancées and street brawling.

The BBC's search to replace Angus Deayton has run into trouble.

Everyone working in TV is a coke-snorting sex maniac.

The last supposedly squeaky-clean favourite has been outed as another hell-raiser.

When Pudsey was high, he was wilder than Angus Deayton.

He got me in a three-in-a-bed romp with my best friend, Slapper Handball.

The charitable do-gooder Pudsey thought himself untouchable,

but it's emerged the reason for the eye-patch

is because the drugs he takes burst his stitches.

Anyone who worked with Pudsey has lurid stories. One wished to remain anonymous.

What's that?!

You both snorted coke off Panda's tits?

The outlook for Pudsey is bleak - shunned by colleagues, demonised in the tabloids

and forced to go on "Tonight With Trevor MacDonald".

In "The Bung" the truth about Di from nobodies with tenuous links with her.

This bloke sold her a newspaper.

How one simple sentence - "I think you've given me the wrong change" -

revealed Diana's inner turmoil.

I was the only person she trusted. Read it in the "Bung".

Read about the real Di, from the bloke who waved a flag at her.

I was the only person she trusted.

Read my amazing story only in the "Bung".

Exclusive insights from a woman who met her in a big house.

Yes, I met her once.

She was lovely. Not a jumped-up anorexic trollop at all.

Read my story exclusively in the "Bung".

Can one have one's money now?

Cold sort of day, isn't it? Very cold sort of day.

I suppose I should start by asking

when you decided to sit at a bus stop in this way?

- Why? - It's a typical bus stop, I know,

but what was it about this particular bus stop

that drew you to sit here in this way?

Er, I don't know. I don't know what you ask.

Just a certain bus stop charm, I suppose. It attracts people.

Have you ever sat at a bus stop that you felt wasn't right for you,

- and felt you had to move on quickly? - That can happen.

Did that happen with Mohammed Ali, Spike Milligan or Gene Kelly?

I've never met one of them.

I did, on many occasions, and fine fellows th-th-th-they were.

If I can just go back a bit,

legend has it your first bus stop was shown to you by your parents at an early age.

I wouldn't know. I don't remember that time.

Sitting at a bus stop, is it something you still enjoy?

There's a dustbin wagon in the way for a moment.

We'll wait for that to go. I'll go and help the man.

When was the first time you wanted to be a refuse collector?

- I never did. - You never did?

I mean, once you've thrown that rubbish into the wagon, where does it go?

- What is the next stage? - Brentford.

To Brentford tip. Down a chute and crushed up.

It's loaded onto trays and taken to Oxford.

Have you collected rubbish for Mohammed Ali, Gene Kelly or Spike Milligan?

- No! - No?

You do a tremendous job.

This man's book, "Collecting Garbage", is out very soon.

Thank you.

I warn you, Bush and Blair. Attack the Iraqi people and we will strike back.

You think we don't have sophisticated weaponry

capable of defeating the most powerful superpower ever known?

Then you are right.

But hidden deep in an underground vault,

we have something far worse than nuclear or chemical bombs that we can unleash.

My huge stockpile of unfashionable 1970s moustaches!

If you thought being turned into chip fat by a dirty bomb was scary,

try life looking like a cross between me, Robert Winston and Jeremy Bowen!

Not pretty!

I'm Greg Dyke, Director General of the BBC. Not a lot of people know that.

"Muffin the Mule"? I'd bring it back, but film it underwater.

ITV have nicked the rights for "Miss Marple" from my BBC.

So I am getting even. I'll read every Miss Marple book and tell you whodunit.

"Murder in the Vicarage" - that poncy artist.

"The Moving Finger" - the policeman. "4.50 from Paddington" - Dr Quimper.

"Murder Is Announced" - it was the kangaroo.

Didn't see that coming, did you? Job done.

The boys in Intelligence say it's a good idea.

I've learned not to rely on intelligence.

Why should I see another Bin Laden tape? He never sings nothing by S Club Juniors.

- It may help us to understand our enemy. - OK.

Death to the infidels. We will triumph.

No, you've taped "Sesame Street" over Osama again!

It's Bin Laden's new terrortactification.

Living in a dustbin, grouchy if asked to sing,

refusing to admit the importance of the letter "C".

- It's shockerating. - We're giving these tapes to the CIA.

They got Big Bird, Elmo, Bert and Ernie interred at Camp X-Ray.

How else could we warn the Armenians that the next attack won't be by Al-Qaeda

but by the Children's Television Workshop?

Hello, loves. God bless. Welcome to "Thora's Nice History of Britain",

where we refuse to dwell on the unpleasant side of life.

Last week, I told you about lovely Henry VIII

and how he was married to the same woman for 53 years and made doilies.

God bless his big fat face.

This is Edgehill in Warwickshire.

Some historians say that in November 1642,

a bloody battle - excuse my language - occurred here,

with vicious fighting and many casualties.

Stuff and nonsense!

Let's go to the top of the hill and find out what really happened.

In this re-enactment, we see the Parliamentarians came from that side...

...and the Royalists came from that side.

They met here, at the top of the hill.

And then they had a nice picnic.

Good for keeping things fresh, that Tupperware.

It's lovely, is that. You've got a nice big thermos!

It was decided that the Parliamentarians had won

because they had the best selection of sandwiches, pastries,

and even the odd Chorley cake.

Next week, the so-called bubonic plague -

or a chesty cough, as I call it. God bless!

Do the fingertips with sandpaper and chuck him in the river.

Speaking on behalf of Newsreaders in Need,

please, please stop making us dress in leather mini-skirts