scene from the new james healy comedy show debuting on central television this weekend

 

Exterior shot: A large building.

Caption: British Broadcasting Corporation headquarters, circa 1987.

Interior shot: an office with an important looking man seated behind a desk.

Caption: Sir Reginald Biddle, Chairman of the BBC.

Sir Reginald: "People have been asking why our opinion polls consistently rate Mrs Thatcher as the most unpopular leader in Britain while at the same time she keeps winning elections. Three times in a row we've predicted she would be massively defeated. Three times in a row she's won with huge majorities. Naturally some people are wondering how our opinion polls can be so consistently wrong. There is a simple explanation."

Camera cuts to Fred Blurbington, Managing Director of Blurbington Polling, a Joint Venture corporate subdivision of the BBC, the Guardian newspaper and the Russian Communist Party. 

Caption: Fred Blurbington, Managing Dirctor Blurbington Polling.

Fred: "The reason our polls consistently understate Mrs Thatcher's support and have done so for over a decade is that people are just too embarrassed to admit they're voting Conservaitve. They're actually concealing their true voting intentions from our pollsters. We have substantial evidence for this."

Camera cuts to bikers gathered around their machines.

They are a dangerous looking bunch with swastikas draped in the background and something of an over emphasis on the leather note in their personal attire. The women bikers are strangely compelling.

Caption: Lords Of Death motorcycle gang, London.

The bikers are revving their engines atmospherically.

A BBC interviewer type from central casting, all eagerness and spectacles, rushes up and proffers a microphone to the lead biker. The engines fall silent.

BBC interviewer type: "How are you voting in the next election?"

Caption: Bill Slashem, Lead Biker.

Bill Slashem: "Well, er, obviously we're voting Labour... For the humanitarianism Guv. It's, er, the only civilised option, know wot I mean, like. They're the only ones who care about the working man, Guv,and er, eh, um, the general good of society and er, oh yeah, cor blimey."

Camera cuts to a rather stylish drawing room.

A woman wearing the crown jewels, mace, tiara, etc etc, is seated with her back to the camera.

Caption: Doesn't wish to be identified.

BBC Interviewer type: (Discreetly proffering microphone from leftfield off camera. We see only his hand and the mike.) "And how will you be voting in the next election Your Highness?"

The Queen: "One is, ahem, one is, one voting Socialist of course. For the, ah, for the, um, the enlightened views and the progressive policies.Er, power to the people, yes that's it. Er, ah, oh yes before one forgets, cor blimey."

Camera cuts to a supermarket.

Caption: Supermarket, Westonsupermare.

BBC Interviewer type hustles up a woman who is carefully comparing cucumbers in a display.

BBC Interviewer type: "Excuse me Madam. How will you be voting at the next election?"

Woman turns.

It is Margaret Thatcher.

Caption: Maggie, ordinary housewife.

Margaret Thatcher: (clearly embarrassed and quickly wrapping a shawl around her face and donning dark glasses) "Oh, ah, oh heavens... I will of course... be voting... for the, er, nice, compassionate, caring, Labour Party. You know the one that is truly concerned about people's well being. Neil Kinnock. Yes. Neil Kinnock is the man for me. He is the only credible choice for Prime Minister of Great Britain. Because he genuinely cares what happens to the, er,  the, um, the proles. Cor blimeyyyyyyy."

Camera cuts back to Sir Reginald's office at the BBC.

Sir Reginald: "There you have it. All explained."

Camera cuts to James Healy.

James: (with a trace of bitterness) "That joke would have been ******* hilarious if I'd had a TV show thirty years ago."

expostulation and reply

 

Samuel Johnson and Freddie Boswell are sitting in a cafe in London.

From afar the city cacaphones with life.

For those who dare plumb the mysteries of existence, at this moment the real heart of London is here in the cafe.

Johnson is trying out aphorisms.

"He who is tired of London is tired of... tired of cream buns... No... Too trite... He who is tired of London is tired of... Something... Pretentious asses maybe. Ha ha. Too close to the bone. Tired of... Tired of..."

"You'll get it eventually," says Boswell encouragingly.

At a nearby table a shy scholar basks in the reflected glory of the great men.

He is at once terrified and thrilled for Johnson's reputation as a ferocious interlocutor of fellow coffee drinkers is legendary.

But the mood is mellow.

And presently the shy scholar risks an intrusion.

His sallie is hesitant yet bold.

"They say sir in Spitalfelds that Rebel Yell is about the pleasures of the flesh."

Doctor Johson scowls but not ferociously.

He beckons the young man to join their table.

"It is not sir," he proclaims finally through knitted brows.

"But Sir William Idol himself has stated it is so," ventures the student somewhat in awe of the company but nonetheless seizing his moment in history.

"I care not sir for what Sir William says it is about," thunders Johnson but still with no great unkindness.

"But what then sir," trembles the scholar hardly daring to believe that life has accorded him the chance of such an exchange of views, "what sir do you say it is about?"

Johnson's scowl has a trace of vehemence now but is still essentially good natured.

"Rebel Yell is about Steve Stevens guitar playing sir," he rumbes. "And anyone who talls you otherwise is a ******** ****."

The young scholar goggles then quibbles.

"But when he duetted with Miley Cyrus..." he proffers with a hint of challenge.

Doctor Johnson sighs as one who is showing great patience then raises his voice in full declamatory splendour.

"Miley Cyrus doesn't know the first thing about anything sir," he thunders. "Too many drugs and not enough songs, that's her problem. She should go to church and learn what real life is about. I tell you she hadn't a clue what Rebel Yell was about sir. I say it again for the ages. Rebel Yell is about Steve Stevens guitar playing. Particularly the bit where he makes it go like a machine gun and let there be no more about it sir. Now I was working on aphorisms when you came in. He who is tired of London is tired of... what?"

"Life," said the scholar wearily.