A Bit of Fry & Laurie

Between desire and reality.

A bit.

Between fact and breakfast,

madness, lies, lies, lies...

A bit.

I hate you, I hate you and yet...

I hate you...

As love, rage and aches of the ear.

Pretension by Fry and Laurie.

Strangest thing, really, isn't it? Tony's off to lunch again.

I swear that man gets earlier and earlier every time.

He's gonna meet himself having breakfast one day.

You all right, old fellow?

Oh, I'm... Yes, yes, sorry, I'm just...

No, come on, come on. Whatever it is, out with it. It can't be that bad.

I... I just can't help feeling that,

you know, my life is grey and hopeless.

Grey and hopeless? Grey and hopeless? Whatever do you mean?

Well, you know, I look into the future, and what do I see?

I don't know. What do you see?

Just the blank rolling of the years, one after another, like...

Like grey, hopeless waves beating against my brain

until the blood runs out of my ears.

Oh, come on now.

Look at you, you've got a lovely wife. Well, you've got a wife.

You've got a very pleasant house, three loving goldfish...

Oh, I know, I know. But... Well, I mean, what does it mean?

You know, we live in a doomed worid.

Oh, nonsense, what do you mean, "doomed"?

Nobody likes anybody any more. Nobody cares about anybody or anything.

People go around hitting and stealing and stabbing and insulting.

Cities are unbreathable, the countryside's a poisonous mess.

You can get beaten up by a 12-year-old, and ripped off by your neighbour.

Well, I grant you, things aren't perfect, but I mean...

There are no certainties any more, it's just battle lines.

There's no pleasure in anything, except in getting drunk,

or high on dangerous drugs supplied by maniacs with machine guns.

Well, it's a grim old worid, all right, but surely it's always been like...

I mean, films and music are crap, books are crap.

Streets are so full, you can't walk in a town without getting pushed off the pavement.

Roads are unusable, trains are a bloody joke.

The politicians are so feeble-minded and gutless, you can't even hate them.

Even sport isn't that much fun any more, is it?

You smile at someone in the street, you're either knifed in the kidneys,

or up in court for rape.

Looking at a newspaper is like opening a fold of used lavatory paper.

You turn on the television, you're sprayed in coloured vomit.

It's frigging useless, isn't it?

We're done for.

We're shagged. We're absolutely shagged.

It's grey and hopeless.

No pleasure, no prospect, no future, nothing.

Just grey, hopeless hell.

- Jesus. - Oh, Christ Jesus.

We're dead, we're dead, we're dead, we're dead.

Well, first of all, my colleague and I would like to welcome you to a brand-spanking-new series

of A Bit of Fry and Laurie,

the show that tries to put a bit of jolliness back into the darker corners of modern Britain,

- but doesn't. - Mmm.

Yes, I'd...

I'd like to add my own individual welcome, on a more personal note,

separate and distinct from my colleague's joint welcome,

which I always think is a bit stiff, bit formal.

Uh, you know, my welcome's really just a bit of an old "Hi."

Sort of, just... Just, "Hi."

Jesus.

So, the choice of welcomes on BBC television,

it's either, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," or it's...

Hi.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Oh, you're very kind.

How very sweet. Thank you so much.

Thank you. Thank you.

Well, now my colleague and I would like to introduce some guests

onto the A Bit of Fry and Laurie programme.

That's right. They're going to be popping in and out over the next half-an-hour or so,

fetching, carrying, handing round bowls of nuts and raisins during the quiet portions.

And the first of those guests is, well, will you please welcome,

cook, father of nine, cook and amateur chef,

yes, it's John Bird.

- John, welcome. - Thank you, great to be here.

It is, isn't it? We were just saying that.

So much better than being over there. Yeah.

John, tell the ladies and gentlemen what you've been up to for the past 30 years,

and what plans you've come up with for the restructuring of modern Britain.

- Well... - You're a Sagittarian, is that right?

- Yes. - Mmm-hmm. And your favourite colour is?

Aquamarine with a streak of mottled purple where it joins the edge.

They like you already, John. I can tell.

I know this crowd. They're a crazy crowd, and they like you. Hugh.

Well, our next, last and final guest, last, next and final guest,

is the chef, writer, author, chef, cook and amateur professional,

yes, it's Jane Booker.

No, it isn't. It is.

Jane, hello.

Jane, you worked, um...

You worked with Norman Lamont. What was he like as a man, as a human being?

Well, I remember once driving back from Bristol...

Bristol. That's an absolutely marvelous story, and that's...

- That story is now available on CD, am I right? - Yes.

Now, one of the things we hope to be doing on this series of A Bit of Fry and Laurie

is to be building up a collection of guest movements.

And to that end, I've asked Jane, here, and John

if they would come along with some movements for us.

John, can we have your movement first?

What a lovely movement. A great way to start our collection. Yeah.

Jane, can we have your movement now, please?

Two fabulous movements.

Two fabulous movements.

Now, perhaps, John, you wouldn't mind taking the Twiglets up that side.

And, Jane, can you dish out the condoms up that side?

I think these guests have been really a great success.

We have been very lucky. Very lucky.

Well, we have one final guest for you to meet,

who hopefully is going to be with us throughout the show,

and his name is Dodger.

Oh, bless him.

Dodger is half-retriever, half-retriever,

and he's going to be,

well, hopefully, growing up with us as the show goes on.

That's right. Well, I think that's more than enough introducing

to satisfy even the most introduction-hungry viewer.

So, meantime, it's on with the ruthless subversion of family values.

Tonight's theme is "Themes:"

"what good are they?"

No, I don't think they're any good at all.

Useless. I sold all mine years ago.

Themes? Well, themes are what you make of them, you know.

I mean, a good theme, like, say,

"Sex between people of vastly differing heights: can Britain take it?"

Can be a wonderful thing, in the right hands, of course.

Uh...

Yeah, sex is a good theme. Yeah.

Sex is thematically strong.

Makes me want to throw up, makes me want to keck,

makes me want to vomit. "Hearts of gold." Arse of gold, more like.

I don't pay my license fee every year.

But if I did...

It was the strangest thing, you know. I dreamt the other night

that I was in bed with Andrew Neil.

And, you know, I woke up, and I was thinking,

"Why Andrew Neil?" you know.

And then I realised that the cat had been sick on the duvet.

So...

People are often mistaking me for Luther Vandross.

Oh, my God. What's happened, Leonard?

I am bloody furious, Jennifer, I tell you.

Oh, the blood! What's happened?

What's happened? Well, I've killed your parents. Basically, that's what's happened.

- What? - Stabbed them both to death.

- What? - I could not be more furious.

- Stabbed, but why? - Exactly. Why?

It was so unnecessary. That's why I'm so bloody annoyed.

What?

Well, you know, your father was being a bit ratty, complained that the tonic water was flat,

and all of a sudden, there I was, stabbing him in the neck with a knife.

I mean, what is going on here?

God, you killed him!

Yeah, all right. Don't go on about it. How do you think I feel?

I don't know, Leonard.

Bloody annoyed, that's how.

- Annoyed? - Well, somebody should have stopped this.

I had to go out.

No, no, no, I'm not blaming you, darling.

But somebody should have seen that this was a tragedy waiting to happen

and done something about it. I really am livid.

Oh, God, and Mummy, too!

Yeah, well, she got in the way, tried to defend him, so...

There she was, lying dead, another victim of bureaucratic inefficiency.

I mean, it just won't do.

Have you called the police?

No, no, I thought I'd write, actually. I thought that would carry more weight.

I mean, have you told them what you've done?

- What I've done? - Yes!

What I've done? Oh, that's nice. That's charming, isn't it?

I stab your parents to death with a bread knife, and all of a sudden it's my fault.

Leonard, darling, I mean, you did it. You said so yourself.

No. No, no, no, no, my hand did it, Jennifer, my hand and the knife did it, yes.

But what is making my hand do these things, hmm?

That's what you should be asking yourself.

Well, you.

No! No, no, no, no, absolutely not. It's the system.

I loved your parents, Jennifer. You know that.

You father could be a bit gassy at times, but they were lovely people.

And now they're dead, all because the system failed again.

You're right. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gone out shopping.

Well, that was my first reaction, I must admit. Bloody Jennifer.

God, she's left me in a right pickle here. But it's not you, darling.

You know, there are people paid to make sure this kind of thing doesn't happen,

and those people simply didn't do their job.

Yes, but if I had been here, I could...

Yeah, but you weren't, my ángel. You weren't.

You know, the system failed you, just like it failed me.

Oh, God. What are we going to do now?

Well, I've got a bloody good mind to kill you, to be honest.

Yeah, well, that would teach the social services a lesson, wouldn't it?

I'd like to see them talk their way out of three dead bodies.

- Well, I'd rather you didn't. - Well, I'd rather I didn't,

Jennifer, but what about my hand? What is making my hand do these things, hmm?

- The system. - The system, exactly.

You know, these people with their cosy little offices,