IAP S01E01: A Room with an Alan

ALAN

That was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains they 'Paved paradise to put up a parking lot', a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise... something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn’t quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song! It’s 4:35am, you’re listening to 'Up With The Partridge'!

[jingle: cock crowing followed by "Aha!"]

ALAN

And now it’s time for Alan’s 'Fact of the Day'. Crabsticks do not actually contain any crab, and from 1993 manufacturers have been legally obliged to label them 'crab-flavoured' sticks. Another one of those same time tomorrow.

[jingle: male voice, "Radio Norwich, the best music"]

ALAN

Pray silence please... for the Electric Light Orchestra.

[title sequence; ALAN in his car, showing off his driving gloves, “The string-backs just give you a bit of extra purchase”]

ALAN

Time now to hand over to mine breakfast host, Mr. David Clifton. Good morning to you, sir!

DAVE CLIFTON

And good morning to you, Mr. Alan Partridge, sir! And I heard your phone-in, and I liked your chat with the guy from Swaffham... He was a wacky fella!

ALAN

Yeah, yeah, he was. I actually think he was a bit simple.

DAVE

I heard you laying into the criminals again there, Alan! Vandals got to your car again?

ALAN

'Fraid so, third time. Scum. Sub-human scum.

DAVE

Okay! It’s seven am! Wakey wakey, it’s the Breakfast Show. Here’s Yazoo.

[Don't Go, by Yazoo]

[driving, the side of Alan's car has the words 'Cock Piss Partridge' in spray-paint]

ALAN [speaking into phone headset] 

Lynn, message from Alan, something to pitch to Tony Hayers at BBC lunch, Friday. Idea for film extravaganza, plot, thus: Malcolm McDowell is trapped in the future. He’s being pursued by a cyberpunk from the past, played by Rutger Hauer. Erm... Terrible idea! No one will watch that. I’ve not thought it through, Lynn. I’ll call you back.

[Alan enters Linton Travel Tavern, singing Killer Queen by Queen]

ALAN [singing]

Guaranteed to blow your mind!

SUSAN

Good morning, Alan! How are you today?

ALAN

Classic Queen! I’m very well, thank you! How are you?

SUSAN

I’m fine.

ALAN

I like those earrings, are they gold?

SUSAN

Yes, they’re rose gold.

ALAN

Well that’s not really gold, is it? But they’re very nice, like little tears... little wax tears dripping from your ears because they’re sad. Don’t cry, ears! You’re on the side of a lovely head!

[SUSAN giggles, humouring ALAN]

SUSAN

Good show this morning?

ALAN

It was a belter! Did you hear it?

SUSAN

No.

ALAN

Oh. Any messages?

SUSAN

Just the one, from Bill Oddie.

ALAN

Did he leave a message?

SUSAN

No.

ALAN

No, he never does. Right. Well, I’m afraid, Susan, I’ve got some very bad news.

SUSAN

Oh?

ALAN 

I’m leaving you, you cow! Sorry, bit of a joke there. Backfired. No, I’m basically just saying that I’m going to be checking out at the end of the week.

SUSAN

Are you going back to your wife?

ALAN

No! No, God, Carol? No, God, no! She’s living with a fitness instructor. He provides all her... sexual… intercourse. Sorry, I’m... dry skin, I’m flaking again! I’m sorry about the cow earlier, by the way, you’re not a cow. And if you were you’d be a lovely Jersey, ripe for milking!

[SOPHIE enters]

ALAN [to SOPHIE]  

Just talking about cows. Do you like milk?

SOPHIE

No.

ALAN 

Oh. [to SUSAN] Actually, can I talk to you? There’s rather a delicate matter…

[saved by the bell, the reception phone rings]

SUSAN

Oh, excuse me. Sophie, could you deal with this?

[SUSAN leaves]

ALAN

Er, Sophie…

SOPHIE

Mr. Partridge?

ALAN

Now, as you know, at the end of the week, I’m meeting Tony Hayers, at the BBC. And, he is Mr. Numero… one…. And the problem is I’ve got some rude daubings on the side of my car.

SOPHIE

Can you still drive the car?

ALAN

Well, yeah. Yeah, obviously. I mean that’s not… do you know what it says on the side of my car?

SOPHIE

Tosser?

ALAN

No. Well, you’re in the right ballpark. No, it actually says ‘Cock Piss Partridge’.

[SOPHIE tries to hide her smirking. SUSAN returns]

SUSAN

Is everything alright?

SOPHIE

Mr. Partridge, erm… has got some... rude graffiti…

[unable to control herself, SOPHIE quickly exits]

SUSAN 

Graffiti? What, in the hotel?

ALAN 

No, no, god! There’s never any graffiti in the hotel. Although in the Gents a couple of weeks ago I did see someone had drawn a lady’s part. It was quite detailed, the guy obviously had talent, that’s the tragedy. But no, it’s not the… no, it’s on the side of my car; it says ‘Cock Piss Partridge’.

[SOPHIE appears back at reception, but on hearing ALAN has to turn away and leave again]

ALAN

Which is… which is illegal. [regarding SOPHIE] Sorry, is she new?

SUSAN

Yes, she is.

ALAN

I mean, I’m basically driving around in an obscene publication. I’d love to get my hands on the bastard...

[SOPHIE attempts another re-entry]

ALAN [gesturing to SOPHIE] 

...or bitch, might be a lady!

SOPHIE

Susan, can I take five minutes?

SUSAN

Yes, of course.

ALAN [derisively] 

Nipping off for a fag?

[ALAN walks away from reception]

SUSAN

Don’t worry about your car, Alan. I’ll get Michael to sort it out for you.

ALAN

Okay.

[ALAN approaches the lift as MICHAEL walks out]

ALAN

Oh! Talk of the devil!

MICHAEL

Morning, Mr. Partridge.

ALAN

Yeah, Michael, I was just saying to Susan, bit of a job for you... Unfortunately some vandals have sworn all over my car again.

[MICHAEL shakes his head and sighs]

MICHAEL

Vandals, eh, Mr. Partridge? You know, it makes you wonder what it’s all aboot.

ALAN

Aboot?

MICHAEL

Aye. You know, vandals, you know? Wha- what is it all aboot?

ALAN

Oh, about! Sorry, sometimes it’s difficult to understand the Geordie… people.

MICHAEL 

You know, what I reckon is, if they had theysels proper jobs, they wouldn’t be up to all this, you know, larkin' every night.

ALAN [irritated] 

What?!

MICHAEL

What I’m saying is, like, if they had theysels proper jobs, you know, for them to gan to, they wouldn’t do it. You know, a lot of 'ems from broken homes!

ALAN 

I’m sorry, that was just a noise! All I got there was broken homes, and a broken home is not an excuse for evil. Look at you, do you go around drawing, I don’t know, peephole bras on the wall?

MICHAEL

Aye, but it was different for me, like, cause, you know, I was in the army when I was seventeen.

ALAN [stepping into the lift] 

Well there you go. They taught you a trade. Minor repairs.

MICHAEL

Aye. That and killing.

ALAN [stopping the lift door from closing and walking back out] 

Really?!

MICHAEL

Oh aye. I’ve seen some terrible things, mind.

ALAN

What, like three men burning in a tank, going 'uurghh'?

MICHAEL

Ah, you wouldn’t want to know, Mr. Partridge.

ALAN

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty curious. I mean, I’d basically like to understand man’s inhumanity to man, and then make a programme about it. Anyway, regarding the graffiti, if you could [mimes shooting] kill that, then 'I’ll see you reet, me old fishy on a dishy'.

MICHAEL

I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll do, just, like, a quick fix on it for now, and...

ALAN [interrupting, getting in the lift again] 

You’ve gone again!

[Alan's room]

ALAN [speaking into Dictaphone]

Idea for a programme, 'Ladyshapes with Alan Partridge'. I look at the changing shape of ladies through the ages, from fat, chubby ladies of the Renaissance, to hard-faced Cromwellian sourpusses, right up to twentieth-century well-toned women like Sharon Davies and Jet from Gladiators. 

Jet from Gladiators to host a millennium barn dance at Yeovil aerodrome. Properly policed. It must not, I repeat not, turn into an all-night rave.

[daydream; at a tawdry lap-dancing club, ALAN is on the stage, the audience is just TONY HAYERS]

ALAN

Would you like me to lap-dance for you?

[TONY presents a ten pound note]

ALAN [wagging his finger] 

Uh-uh! I want a second series!

LYNN [knocking on the door]

Alan?

ALAN [startled awake, clenching his fist] 

Fight you! Sorry. Come in! Door’s open.

[LYNN enters]

LYNN

Just me.

ALAN

There’s tea in the pot.

LYNN

Oh good ... Do you want a cup?

ALAN

Thank you. What have you got for me, Lynn?

LYNN [making tea]

Well, I’ve arranged for you to see a show-house at ten o’clock.

ALAN

Good. Got my fungal foot powder? Ah, it’s a lifesaver, you know, I’d effectively be disabled if it weren’t for this.

LYNN

I also rang all the companies on the product list you gave me, Foster’s Menswear said yes, if you get the second series and you wear one garment a week on air. Monza said no to a free caravan and yes to a tow-bar.

ALAN

I’ll take it. Dolphin Bathrooms?

LYNN

No, they said they didn’t do that sort of thing.

ALAN

That’s rubbish. I know for a fact Martin Lewis got two power showers out of them, one for him and one for his brother-in-law. Right, dry skin cream. I’m having an attack of the old flakes again. This morning, my pillow looked like a flapjack. Okay, Lynn, quick practice for this meeting with Tony Hayers this Friday. You be Tony Hayers. Hello, Tony! How are you?

LYNN

I’m fine. How are you?

ALAN

Oh, very busy. I’ve been working like a Japanese prisoner of war. But a happy one.

LYNN

Good. Would you like a second series of your chat show?

ALAN

I think he’ll be a bit tougher than that, Lynn.

LYNN

We might give you a second series.

ALAN

Yeah that’s about right. Okay, smalltalk... Would you like a Cuban cigar, Tony?

LYNN

Yes please.

ALAN

Rolled on the thighs of a virgin!

[LYNN scoffs, uncomfortably]

ALAN

I’m being bawdy, Lynn! Enjoy it.

[LYNN attempts a manly approving grunt]

ALAN

Well, he might make that noise. Be a bit weird. Right, you said you might give me a second series. Why is there any doubt?

LYNN

Things have to be compartmentalised, Alan. For example, in this drawer you...

[LYNN opens a drawer freezes in shock, trying not to look]

LYNN

You have, erm… things… Sometimes you can have too many things…

[ALAN gets up and closes the drawer]

ALAN 

Er, abandon that, Lynn, it’s not working. Okay, doomsday scenario. You, Tony Hayers, have decided not to give me another television series. Why? Be tough.

LYNN

Well, Alan, the ratings for the first series started poorly and went downhill from there.

[ALAN grimaces]

ALAN

Are you being Lynn or Tony?

LYNN

Tony.

ALAN

Be Lynn again. Can I have a second series?

LYNN

Well who am I?

ALAN [annoyed] 

Just say yes!

LYNN

Yes.

ALAN
Thank you. [pointing at the drawer] They were there when I moved in.

[driving, the side of his car now has purple letters over the initial graffiti to now read "COOK PASS BABTRIDGE"]

CAR RADIO

From Swaffham to Cromer on 106.5 and now in Hensbury on 106.9FM, you’re listening to Radio Norwich.

[ALAN's car is roughly parked outside a reasonably large detached house with double garage, a FOR SALE sign at the end of the modest drive]

ESTATE AGENT [opening luxurious, dark varnished double doors]

Living room...

ESTATE AGENT

Oh I like this, yes. Certainly enough room to swing a cat in here, isn’t there?

ESTATE AGENT

Swing a tiger in here, really!

ALAN

You could, couldn’t you! Wouldn’t want to, though, not unless it had been stunned. Even then it’s going to weigh the best part of a tonne.

ESTATE AGENT [to Lynn]

Do you like the room?

LYNN

Oh, it’s very nice!

ALAN

Lynn’s not my wife. She’s my PA. Hard-worker, but there’s no affection!

ESTATE AGENT

You’d be living alone, then?

ALAN

Yes. In fact, you know, the best thing I ever did was get thrown out by my wife! She’s living with a fitness instructor, he drinks that yellow stuff in tins. He’s an idiot! Erm, is there a neighbourhood – sorry I’m very close to you there – is there a neighbourhood watch system?

ESTATE AGENT

I think so, yeah.

ALAN

Right, well, I’ll do my stint. I’d want expenses, though. Otherwise people start taking liberties... Before you know it, you’re mowing their lawn.

ESTATE AGENT

Shall we have a look at the rest of the house?

ALAN

Yup. [quickly moves to the door, cutting off Lynn] One more question. On the way here, quite nearby, I did see a community centre with a mural on the side...?

ESTATE AGENT

School for the deaf.

ALAN

Right. Does that mean there will be noise or there won’t be noise? Difficult one to figure out, that! But they’re just deaf, they’re not deaf offenders?

ESTATE AGENT

They’re just deaf.

ALAN [gesturing to the door for the ESTATE AGENT]

After you. Er, not you Lynn. Stay here, get on the phone, pester Debenhams for free lamps, free lampshades, anything you can blag. 

[kitchen]

ESTATE AGENT

The kitchen, obviously…

ALAN

Oh lovely! Has this kitchen been distressed?

ESTATE AGENT

Yep, it has, yes.

ALAN

Right. What’s this? It’s a cast-iron egg-tree, lacquered. Is that included? I mean, it’s not a deal-breaker but I would like to know.

ESTATE AGENT

Everything you want to keep here could be kept. It’s…

ALAN

…optional.

ESTATE AGENT

As you wish, certainly.

ALAN

What’s this little sink here?

ESTATE AGENT

That’s a rinser.

ALAN

Yeah. Get rid of it.

[bathroom]

ESTATE AGENT

Bathroom…

ALAN

Do you know what this bathroom says to me? Aqua. Which is French for water. It’s like being inside an enormous Fox’s Glacier Mint. Which, again, to me is a bonus.

[dining room]

ALAN [pulling the table-top]

Yes, it’s an extender! Fantastic! That... that is the icing on the cake. Do you know, if King Arthur had had an extender on his table…

ESTATE AGENT

It’d have been a different story, really, wouldn’t it?

ALAN

Well it wouldn’t have been round!

ESTATE AGENT

No.

ALAN

…for kick-off.

[stairs]

ALAN

It’s very Cluedo this house, isn’t it? Colonel Mustard in the en-suite bathroom with the lead pipe. Battered!

[upstairs bathroom]

ALAN

I do like that toilet, it’s very futuristic, isn’t it? Very, sort of, high-tech, space age... I can imagine Buck Rogers taking a dump on that. In the twenty-first century. Can I… have a go?

ESTATE AGENT

Sure. Help yourself.

[awkward pause]

ALAN

Can I have a go... on the loo?

[ESTATE AGENT catches on]

ESTATE AGENT

Oh! Sorry, sorry!

ALAN

I’d prefer to go alone.

ESTATE AGENT

Sure, sure! 

ALAN

...Most times. 

[living room, LYNN and the ESTATE AGENT wait in silence]

ALAN [bursting in very suddenly through the double doors]

It flushed on the first yank! I love this house!

LYNN

Alan?

ALAN

One yank, gone!

LYNN

Alan, that was Tony Hayers’ office on the phone. They’ve put the meeting forward to 12:30 today.

ALAN

When did you get this call?

LYNN

Three minutes ago.

ALAN

So why didn’t you tell... what have you been doing for three minutes?

LYNN [defensively]

You were on the toilet.

ALAN

Was I on that long? 

ESTATE AGENT

It was... in that area.

LYNN

We’re going to have to zip.

ALAN

Right, okay. One more question about the house. Petrol stations nearby?

ESTATE AGENT

Shell, about a quarter of a mile away.

ALAN

Right, does it have a mini-mart?

ESTATE AGENT

Mini-mart?

ALAN

Scaled-down supermarket, fits inside a petrol station. Sells pies, anti-freeze…

ESTATE AGENT

Yep, it’s got one of them.

ALAN

In that case, you’ve got yourself a deal! I’ll take the house.

ESTATE AGENT

Well, are you going to make an offer?

ALAN

Oh, yes of course! Erm... how much is it?

ESTATE AGENT

It’s on at three hundred and twenty-five thousand.

ALAN

Will you take three hundred and twenty… four?

ESTATE AGENT

Yeah.

[they shake hands]

ALAN

How many bedrooms has it got?

ESTATE AGENT

Five.

ALAN

Five, cor! My five-bedroomed bastard house! Great, Lynn, let’s go off to the BBC. [to ESTATE AGENT] I’m going to be back on TV, I don’t know if you – did you use to watch my TV show?

ESTATE AGENT

Oh yes!

ALAN

Did you like it?

ESTATE AGENT

I loved it.

ALAN [arms outstretched]

Aha!

[ESTATE AGENT looks nonplussed. ALAN and LYNN leave]

[ALAN parks outside BBC Television Centre]

LYNN

What if Tony Hayers sees 'Cook Pass Babtridge' painted on your car?

ALAN

Don’t worry, Lynn, I’ll play it down.

[BBC restaurant, ALAN and TONY HAYERS approach the bookings lectern]

ALAN

…and it says Partridge, I can understand, but then it says 'Cock', and 'Piss'...

WAITER

A table for two, sir?

ALAN

Yes… no, sorry, that's you… [gestures to TONY and steps back]

TONY HAYERS

Yes, in the name of Hayers.

WAITER

If you’d like to follow me...

[ALAN and TONY follow the WAITER to their table]

ALAN

We managed to rectify it, though, because it now says, by adapting it, it now says 'Cook' where it once said 'Cock', and it says 'Pass' now where it once said 'Piss', so it’s slightly less rude.

[at the table, ALAN and TONY sit down as the WAITER hands out a couple of menus]

WAITER 

Like a drink first?

ALAN [refusing the menu]

Ummm, I’ll have a pint of bitter!

TONY

A mineral water for me, please.

ALAN

Actually... actually I’ll have a mineral water, too.

WAITER

Will you be having wine with your meal?

TONY

Not for me.

ALAN

No, no. [exasperated sigh as the WAITER leaves] All this wine nonsense! You get all these wine people, don’t you? Wine this, wine that. Let’s have a bit of red, let’s have a bit of white. Ooh, that’s a snazzy bouquet. Oh, this smells of, I don’t know, basil. Sometimes you just want to say, "Sod all this wine, just give me a pint of… mineral water".

TONY

I don’t think wine’s an elitist thing anymore, you can get good wine in Tesco’s now. I’d love to make a genuinely popular wine programme.

ALAN

Can I just shock you? I like wine. Despite what I just said earlier. At any one time I have nine bottles of wine in my house.

TONY

Really?

ALAN

Interesting fact.

TONY

Well it’s my weakness I’m afraid. I’ve got a cellar.

ALAN

So have I. There’s no wine in it, just a couple of bikes, some smokeless fuel, and an old bag of cement. Gone hard.

WAITER

Are you ready to order?

TONY

Yes I think I’ll have the Fettucini al Arabiata please.

ALAN

And… can I have the same, please? But with different shaped pasta. What do you call those pasta in bows? Like a bow-tie, but miniature? Like an action man bow-tie.

TONY

Farfalle.

ALAN

Yeah, that with... action man bow-tie.

WAITER

Anything else?

ALAN

Yeah, I think I’ll have some wine, actually. Erm, just give me half a bottle of Blue Nun, please. [to TONY] I loved your article in The Guardian, by the way.

TONY

Really?

ALAN

I loved that phrase you used, it was very clever – ‘Revolution not evolution’.

TONY

No, it was the opposite. ‘Evolution not revolution’.

ALAN

Well whatever. Because that is me. I ‘evolve’, but I don’t… ‘revolve’…. Or vice-versa. I suppose what you’re trying to say is, you don’t want another Chris Evans on your hands.

TONY

No, that is what we want.

ALAN

I’m your man!

TONY

That’s what I wanted to talk about, Alan. Your career. I can see a lot of very exciting opportunities ahead for you, really I can.

ALAN [puffed up like an owl]

Oh! Can I just say, this is music to my ears!

[WAITER returns with Alan’s wine, starting to pour out a glass]

ALAN

Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing!? What are you doing?

WAITER

Pouring the wine out.

ALAN

I want you to pour a little bit, let me sip it, then pour the rest.

WAITER

Well I’ve already poured half.

ALAN

Well it’s alright. [down in one] That’s fine, fill her up. [to TONY] Here’s to our future relationship at the BBC.

TONY

You know, I don’t think you should see your future just at the BBC, Alan. I just think it’s time for you to consider moving on to new pastures.

ALAN

Have I got a second series?

TONY

There’s so many opportunities for a man –

ALAN [interrupting] 

Let, let, let me rephrase that. Can I… no, in fact I’ll just repeat the question. Have I got a second series?

TONY

No.

ALAN

Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know.

 

[PETER LINEHAN approaches the table]

PETER LINEHAN

Tony!

TONY

Oh, Peter, hello. How are you?

PETER

Fine, fine.

TONY

Alan, this is Peter Linehan, he’s revamping our current affairs output.

[ALAN shrugs]

PETER

We haven’t met but I liked your chat show.

ALAN
Thank you very much.

PETER
Has he given you another series?

ALAN
No, he won’t give me one!

PETER [mock-incredulous]

Give him another series, you swine!

ALAN

Yeah, give me another series you shit!

[ALAN realises he's gone too far]

TONY
Look, Alan, I don’t want you feel that the - I’ll see you later, Peter - I don’t want you to feel that the doors have all closed here at the BBC. If you come up with anything else, then please, I don’t want you to hesitate to call…

[fade to daydream sequence]

ALAN

Would you like me to lap dance for you?

TONY [mocking laughter]

Blue Nun! BLUE NUN!

TONY 

 …don’t hesitate, if you have any other ideas... I’d be very interested…

ALAN

Got them here, got them right here! 

TONY

Right…

ALAN

Right, okay. 'Shoestring', 'Taggart', 'Spender', 'Bergerac', 'Morse'. What does that say to you about regional detective series'?

TONY

There’s too many of them?

ALAN

That’s one way of looking at it. Another way of looking at it is, "People like them, let’s make some more of them". A detective series based in Norwich called Swallow. Swallow is a detective who tackles vandalism, bit of a maverick, not afraid to break the law if he thinks it’s necessary. He’s not a criminal but he will, perhaps, travel 80mph on the motorway if he, for example, he wants to get somewhere quickly…

[TONY shakes his head doubtfully]

ALAN

Think about it. No-one had heard of Oxford before 'Inspector Morse'. I mean, this will put Norwich on the map.

TONY

Why would I want to do that?

ALAN

Yep, fair point. Okay, right. 'Alan Attack!'. Like the Cook Report, but with a more slapstick approach.

TONY

No.

ALAN

'Arm Wrestling with Chas and Dave'?

TONY

I don’t think so.

ALAN

Pity, because they were very keen on that one. Right, ah, now, you’ll like this one! 'Knowing M.E., Knowing You'. I, Alan Partridge, talk to M.E. sufferers about their condition. You know, we intersperse it with their favourite pop songs, make it light-hearted, you know, give them a platform, you’ve got to keep the energy up, because…

[TONY shakes his head, horrified at the thought]

ALAN

You don’t like it?

TONY

No.

ALAN

That’s alright, that’s Okay. 'Inner-City Sumo'.

TONY

What’s that?

ALAN

We take fat people from the inner cities, put them in big nappies, and then get them to throw each other out of a circle that we draw with chalk on the ground.

TONY

No, no it’s a bad idea.

ALAN

Very cheap to make.

TONY 

No.

ALAN 

Do it in a pub car park.

TONY 

No!

ALAN

If you don’t do it, Sky will.

TONY

Well, I’ll live with that! Is that it?

ALAN [floundering]

Well, no, no. Cooking in prison.

TONY [laughing in disbelief] 

Oh, no!

ALAN [desperate] 

'A Partridge Amongst The Pigeons'?

TONY 

What’s that?

ALAN

Well, it’s just a title, I mean… erm, well, no, opening sequence, me, in Trafalgar Square, feeding the pigeons, going "Oh God!"

TONY [exasperated] 

No, I’m sorry, no! Stop!

ALAN

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Erm... ‘Youth Hostelling with Chris Eubank’.

TONY

No!

[pause]

ALAN

'Monkey tennis'?

TONY [seriously] 

There is to be no second series, and I’ve listened to your ideas, I’ve listened to them all, and I haven’t liked a single one.

ALAN 

Tony, I’ve, look I’ve just bought a house. It’s got a Buck Rodgers toilet. One yank, all gone!

TONY 

We don’t owe you a living! You are someone who has a proven track record of making mainly bad television programmes.

ALAN 

That’s... that’s... that’s bollocks, but go on...

TONY

It’s not bollocks! Your programmes were appalling! The ratings were a ninth of what we could have expected, they started badly, they got worse…

ALAN [mocking] 

"They started badly, they got worse… ooh, your programmes, your programmes…"

TONY

Now, you’re making a fool of yourself.

ALAN

Who… who-o-o… who do you think you are?

TONY 

Well unfortunately for you, I am the Chief Commissioning Editor of BBC Television.

[awkward pause]

ALAN

Oh, let’s forget about all this!

[ALAN stabs a fork into a large truckle of cheese, lifting it up]

ALAN 

 Do you want some cheese?

TONY

 No thanks.

ALAN

Mmm. Quite nice. Mm, smells. Do you want to smell it? 

TONY

No thanks.

ALAN 

Smell the cheese.

TONY 

 No I don’t want to.

ALAN [forcefully] 

Smell my cheese!

TONY

Alan, please.

ALAN [shoving the cheese into TONY's face] 

Smell my cheese, you mother!

[a WAITER appears to stop the disturbance]

WAITER

I think that’s quite enough, thank you!

[ALAN runs out of the restaurant, his ad-hoc cheese-and-fork 'lolly' still in hand]

ALAN 

I’ve got cheese! This is cheese!

[outside, running to his car past some employees sunning themselves]

ALAN [muttering] 

 …bloody BBC! What are you sitting around for? Haven’t you got programmes to make? No, you’re all on the BBC gravy train. I wish I was. [getting into the car, handing the cheese to Lynn] Take this cheese.

LYNN

How did it go?

ALAN 

I’ve been bad, Lynn!

LYNN [referring to the cheese]

Oh, smelly!

ALAN [putting his seatbelt on and driving off]

It’s got walnuts in.

LYNN

Right.

ALAN

Let’s go.

[night, ALAN and LYNN parked outside the show-house from earlier]

ALAN

I wasn’t expecting that, Lynn. That was a negative, and right now I need two positives. One to cancel out the negative and another one, you know, just so I can have a positive. Oh my God.

LYNN

You know, one can... find some strength, when you’re at your bleakest moment, if you open yourself up to new choices…

ALAN

Lynn, I’m not coming to your Baptist church! You always get people when they’re down! I don’t want salvation, I just want to be able to say... "I’m Alan Partridge. Join me tonight when my guests will be," - I don’t know - "Chris Rea". Actually, he lives in the area. I could have had him over. "Alright Chris!", "Hello Alan, I didn’t know you’d moved in", "Yeah, just moved in, last week. I’m having a barbecue, fancy coming over?", "I’d love to! Do you mind if I bring my guitar?", "I’d rather you didn’t, it’s not that kind of area". "Do you like Mini Kievs?", "I love 'em! But my wife’s vegetarian", "Doesn’t matter, she can have fish", "No, she won’t eat that either", "Oh forget it!". You people! Come on, Lynn. These people are starting to annoy me. I’ll tell you something, you know. They may have very nice Tudorette-style housing but can they order an Irish Coffee at 3am in the morning and get it delivered to their bedroom?

LYNN

Nope.

ALAN

Nope! I can. Come on, I’ll drop you at a cab rank.

[back at Linton, ALAN plays Jet by Wings on the hi-fi and calls room service]

ALAN

Hi. Can I have an Irish Coffee delivered to the room, please? No? Tea? Erm... right. Can of Fanta? Minibar, right, no, I’ll get it myself. [hangs up] Jet! Jet! Jet!

[ALAN swinging to the music, lightly bouncing on the bed]

ALAN

Right, minibar.

[ALAN jumps and falls awkwardly, knocking a lamp off a table, cut to black]

[Radio Norwich studio, next day]

ALAN

Kate Bush there, the lovely Kate Bush with The Man with the Child in His Eyes …which brings us on, very neatly, to my next guest, Mr. Stephen Brai, whose father invented Cat's Eyes...

[ALAN's minibar incident now reveals a rather nasty looking bruised eye]

ALAN

...Stephen, what was it like living with... being the son of the man who invented Cat's Eyes?

STEPHEN

Well I remember he came home from work one night very excited, and he, erm...

ALAN [interrupting] 

Do people… did he ever turn all the lights off in the house and, sort of, run towards you with a torch hoping to catch the reflection in your eyes?

STEPHEN 

Well the idea of reflection of course is what dad was interested in, the idea of…

ALAN [interrupting again] 

Can I just interrupt you there, Stephen, it’s time now for Alan’s Fact of the Day. "Most cornflakes come from the USA", we’ll have another one of them tomorrow. I remember I hit a fox once. Yes, in the Peak District, I remember seeing the reflection in its eyes just before I hit it. It was too late, of course, but I didn’t kill it, that was the tragedy, I had to go back and finish him off with a jack. This is Huey Lewis And The News... No it’s not it’s Kate Bush. What am I doing? Sorry. Huey Lewis, there we go [jingle plays] oh Christ. I’m sorry…

[ALAN's car outside now also has "TWAT" sprayed on it in red as ALAN struggles to play a record, hitting another jingle]

ALAN

No, sorry about that…

[these transcripts have largely been sourced from patridgescripts.blogspot.com, though not without some heavy corrections and tidying up. Also, the source blog has a colour scheme that makes it staggeringly difficult to read on a mobile phone. Black text on a dark red background, UNbelievable]