House of Fools

Prepare to die, Doctor Doolittle!

Morning, Bob.

Why? Nobody's died, have they?

What are you doing?

I was just admiring this graduation picture of yours.

It... it's so good. It's so fabulous, I think I might point at it all day.

Well, I can perfectly understand that, because... a very powerful image, isn't it?

But actually, Vic, I want a word with you.

Could you just sit down for me, please? Just for a minute.

Not again!

Will you sit down, please?

This is a perfect example, Vic,

of the general fannying about

and whimbrelling that I want to have a word with you about.

Excuse me! I hardly ever whimbrel.

Oh, you do whimbrel. Root-tee-toot-toot! You're the king of the whimbrel, Vic.

There's the continued confusion between toilet rolls and curtains.

And this place is not Colditz, Vic.

I don't need an extensive tunnel network under the premises.

I don't know what you're talking about, really.

And what's with that fire damage in the bathroom?

Hey, that was nothing to do with me!

I was simply having my dinner in the bath,

with a nice bottle of wine and some candles,

and a sausage swam away from the plate, drifted off,

and I reached out and grabbed it

and knocked in the wine, knocked in the candles, kaboom!

Vic. Vic, Vic, Vic, Vic.

Why is it always you that suffers from sausage drift?

And kaboom? Wine isn't flammable, Vic.

The sort I drink is.

But most of all, Vic, it's this junk.

The painting of a pygmy, these delicious pineapples,

the gas masks and outfits. Honestly, Vic,

you know, you're rapidly turning into Mr Dirty Feathers.

Look, Bob, I can change. I promise you I'll change. I can yield.

You can't change, Vic. You're fully realised. Do you understand?

I mean, look at this junk. What if I wanted to bring a lady back?

Oh, yeah? When's this happening, then?

No, I'm not saying it's happening, but it could happen, couldn't it?

You know, there might be a woman who'd take a punt on my face.

That happened to me once, and I didn't have any toilet roll.

Vic, I said '"punt'".

So, what's her name?

I don't know. I haven't met her yet, have I?

- What does she look like? - If I'm lucky...

Oh, if you're lucky, yeah?

...if I'm lucky... - Yeah, if you're lucky.

...she'll look like Sandi Toksvig.

- Eh? Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you, though? - Wouldn't you?

- Yeah, you would, yeah. - Wouldn't you?

You would, though, wouldn't you?

I had a really Sandi Toksvig once after a beach picnic.

And did you have any toilet roll this time?

No, I just rinsed it off with a hose pipe.

Yeah.

The thing is, Vic, what I think I'm really trying to say is,

I think it's actually time that you left.

You know, I think it's time that we took a '"break'".

Oh, please. Come on.

Vic, clawing at my magnificent chest is not going to change my mind.

Not this time, Vic.

- Were you expecting a hat? - Eh?

Oh, it's Beef. Come in, Beef!

All right, Beef? Hey, I like your hat.

It's made of wood.

Black wood.

Pineapples!

The fruit of kings, grown in Antigua

and plucked by heavenly, sweating, topless beauties

with thighs like granite

and hairless arms as long as oars.

Beef? Beef? Any news?

- Yes. Draw near. - Yeah?

- Nearer still. - OK.

- No, you'll have to come nearer. - All right.

That's it.

I've procured you a date this afternoon with a woman.

- With a woman? - Yes.

- This afternoon? - Yes.

Afternoon delight!

Do you know what... do you know what I'm going to do?

I'm going to watch a movie with her.

- Really? - Yeah.

I happen to know she enjoys Conan The Barbarian.

- Right. - Which is on at 2.30.

Do you know what channel, Beef?

- It's far down the menu near the nines. - Mm.

Amongst the fishing shit, but not as far as the Welsh stuff.

Yeah, that is deep. That's very, very deep.

- Yes. - Yes.

- So, what's she like? - Just your type.

- Yeah? - Like a tugboat.

Hefty, charred, easy to pull, and with a water cannon on her prow.

Wow. Yeah, a bit like a trawler.

Squat, powerful, hard-working,

- full of herrings. Yeah. - Yes, yes, yes.

Do you know, she's the Sandi Toksvig type!

Ooh, yes, please!

What the hell is that clown doing?

Oh, it's his home-brew, Beef.

Vic! What's that you're brewing?

It's a nice crisp Chardonnay.

With breezy summer high notes and a bit of a kick.

It smells like Lynx.

Well, I'm aiming it primarily at the teen market.

Oh, right. So, what are you doing this afternoon, Beef?

I think I might go and take a look at a rather large and beautiful Ruby.

- Wow. Where's this ruby at? - She works at the launderette.

She's an exquisite Kenyan elder with an arse the size of a Fiat 500.

Mm. She sounds lovely.

She's all right.

Hey, well, thanks, Beef! You're incredible!

That much I do know.

Hey, Vic, have you heard the news?

Beef's arranged a date for me this afternoon.

I'm going to watch Conan The Barbarian.

Brilliant! Well, let's get you sorted out.

No, Vic, I don't need you interfering.

Every time I have a date, you ruin it for me. Do you remember last time?

Mm, no, I can't remember that far back.

Forget Conan. Why don't you show her one of your DVDs from your collection?

- Yeah? - How about Taken?

No, somebody nicked that.

Missing?

Missing, no. I can't find that anywhere.

Gone In 60 Seconds.

That's not a bad call, that, Vic.

Ah, it was here a minute ago.

What a surprise!

No, I'm going to be fine with Conan.

Beef says it's on telly this afternoon at half-two,

one of those channels that's pretty deep into the menu, apparently.

- Deep down into the abyss of the menu? - Yeah, yeah.

- Is it as far as the Welsh stuff? - Oh, no. No, it's not that far, Vic.

So, if it's further back, then, it's probably sandwiched

somewhere in between forensic pets and psychic cutlery.

Right, well, that'll be easy to find, Vic.

Good. Right. So, we've got your drink sorted out, we've got your movie.

You never know, Bob.

She's all loosened up. You might get your grip.

I would like to get my grip, Vic.

Why don't we ask your son if we can borrow his sofa bed?

Ah!

- Stand back. - Give it a go.

Er... Bloodaxe?

Thor? Horst? Bengt?

- It's Erik. - Erik? Erik?

- Erik. - Hey.

Hey, um... I was just wondering if I could borrow your sofa bed.

Er... let me think. Er... no.

Tell him why.

Well, it's just I was, er... hoping maybe to get my grip.

Oh, that is disgusting.

Huh-huh-eurgh!

Huh-eurgh!

Eurgh! Heurgh!

Heurgh!

Eurgh! Heurgh!

Eurgh!

Right, never mind that. OK. Let's go into the kitchen and sort your menu out!

Oh, couldn't you just leave, Vic? You're going to have to

get over the pygmy picture first.

Give us a leg up.

Push.

Ooh! Ooh, you stink. Where have you been?

I've been down the dog pound. I thought you could get a dog for a pound.

Push!

Are you all right, Princess?

Yes, thank you for asking, yes. Fine.

So, how do I get over now, Vic?

- You see that trampette? - Trampette? What trampette?

Hang on a minute.

Right. Come here. Come on. Follow my eyes.

Watch 'em.

Down there. Can you see?

Oh, here it is. Trampette, yeah. Thanks, Vic.

Put that in the middle of the room, take a run up and jump over.

Yeah, I know how to use it. You're staying there, are you?

Yeah, I want to see your little balls as they pass over and enjoy myself for once.

Your cupboards were pretty bare, Vic.

All I could find was, er... this marrow and this inner tube.

Well, that'll make a really nice salad in combination with the tinned pineapples.

- Tropical. - Yeah. No, it could work.

So, Vic, um... I think that's probably all the help I actually need.

Please, Vic, I think it's probably time, yeah,

that you made your arrangements, got yourself out of the flat

and left me to enjoy my date, yeah, watching Conan.

No!

No!

My date!

- Put this round your neck. - No, Bob, please.

- Put it round your neck, fella. - Bob, don't do this.

That is the final whimbrel you will carry out on these premises.

Bob, I know how this is going to end and it's not going to be pretty!

Please don't do this.

- The date is ruined, Vic! - Bob, I promise I'll get you a new telly!

I'll sort you out with the best date you've ever had...

Yeah. Just eat this.

Ha!