Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - Dead Ringers - Christmas Specials 2021 - Episode 1

Episode Date: December 10, 2021

The team delve into what really happened at Downing Street last Christmas, the real source of the Omicron variant, and follow Boris and Carrie’s baby’s first day at her new job.Performed by Jon Culshaw, Lewis Macleod, Jan Ravens, Debra Stephenson and Duncan Wisbey.Written by Nev Fountain & Tom Jamieson, Laurence Howarth, Ed Amsden & Tom Coles, Edward Tew, Rob Darke, Natasha Dhanraj and Cody Dahler.Producer: Bill Dare Production Coordinator: Caroline Barlow A BBC Studios Production for Radio 4

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. At it you voir. People of Britain, this is your Prime Minister, still somehow. Now, like you, I was disgusted by something we all saw this week on our TV screens. Yes, you know what I'm talking about. The smirking and giggling from Keir Starmer as he asked me question after question at PMQs

about a Downing Street party which, I can assure you, did not take place. And while it wasn't taking place, I certainly didn't strip naked and sing Hi Ho Silver Lining on the karaoke. How dare the leader of the opposition play politics with this issue? He should be playing Twister or Statues or Pin the Tail on the Donkey, some of the great games we played at the party, incidentally, of which I am suddenly reminded did not take place. What's going on?

Jesus, Mary and Joseph and the wee donkey. We've heard quite enough lies out of you, thanks. Kit, Steve, cuff him. Yes, go. Who the hell are you? We're AC-12. Britain's finest fictional police force. I can tell you're fictional.

The real police only arrest chavs in Ilford. You can say what you like, fella. But I'm Superintendent Ted Hastings, Britain's last good copper. And there's only one thing I'm interested in this Christmas. And that's nicking bent prime ministers. Get on the floor, you. Come on. Dead ringers.

You're listening to Today with Martha Carney. And Nick Robinson. Storms have left regions in the north without any power for more than ten days. Asked what the people in the flooded areas should do, a spokesman for Northern Power suggested backstroke. But despite all the gloom, at least it's Christmas, when every year we welcome in the festive spirit, fun, laughter and a new variant. Yes, this time it's Omicron, though some say it's not new at all. Ah, far from new. I fought and

defeated the Omicron on the home planet of Omicross 5 when I was the doctor back in 1978. Give the Omicron a bit of the old sonic screwdriver or they don't like it up them. New travel restrictions have been brought in for those flying back into the UK. This proved to be a hammer blow for Geoffrey Cox's constituents, hoping to do the 4,000-mile trip to attend his surgery in the British Virgin Islands to moan about their bin collection.

That is a vicious untruth. None of my constituents need to travel to the Caribbean. All I have to do is raise my ridiculous voice a couple of decibels and they can hear me from their slums in Devon. On Wednesday evening, Boris Johnson called a Downing Street press conference. This was actually a real one and not the fake ones where they all laugh at us. Speaking of which, Downing Street press secretary Allegra Stratton announced her resignation in order to spend more time with her family, unlike the people who had to let their mum or dad die

alone while Downing Street danced the night away. Labour has accused the government of activating Plan B simply to distract us from Partygate. We can speak now to the newly appointed Minister for Distraction. Ms, look over there. We are not in the business of distracting people, Nick. But Downing Street said just a few days ago there was no need to implement Plan B. Look, Nick, an eagle. What? Where? Sorry, Nick, an eagle. What?

Where? Sorry, my mistake. You were saying? I was saying, isn't this a ploy to divert attention to... Oh, goodness, Nick. I think your hair has grown back. Has it? Wow, really? Where's she gone? Oh, blast. Science now, and there's been a major new development. We can speak to Professor Brian Cox. This is huge. We all remember Schrodinger's cat theory and the nature of determinism. Well, Edmund Schrodinger's experiment has been successfully recreated for the first time. Amazing. Where? Inside Downing Street, where they held a Christmas party,

which both did and didn't happen at the same time. Cressida Dick said the Met Police wouldn't be investigating the party, as her officers have far better ways of spending their time, like punching women at peace vigils. The nondescript husband in every ITV drama who turns out to be the murderer, Justice Secretary Dominic Raab, joins us now. What did you mean when you said that the police weren't supposed to investigate crimes in the past? I mean what I say, Nick, but the past is where most crimes are. I hadn't thought of that. I'll have to work out a way to investigate crimes that happen in the future. Now don't look at me, cock. I've still got my hands full fighting the Omicrons.

The government's announcement of its new drug strategy has been overshadowed by reports of widespread drug use in the Houses of Parliament. Reports dismissed by the new Sergeant-at-Arms. The whole thing's just total f***ing bollocks. Seriously, if everyone in the House of Commons was on drugs, they'd all be wandering around in a daze, grinning inanely and talking complete crap. OK, maybe there's something in it. This week, Jacob Rees-Mogg was referred to the Parliamentary Standards Commissioner for not declaring a £60 million loan. Felicitations, Martha. What nonsense. Of course I have standards. I'm the one who insisted that all bribes to Tory MPs must be passed from the left, just as de Bretz clearly lays down. Haven't you just driven a coach and horses through the regulations?

Martha, I'd never do that. Driving a coach and horses is my underfootman's job. And you've also been caught up in the controversy about MPs and second jobs. Do you yourself have another job? That is correct, yes. And what is that? Appearing as a ghostly apparition in the background of Victorian photographs. And that doesn't interfere with your main job? Oh no, nothing distracts me from my multi-billion pound investment firm. Jacob Rees-Mogg, thank you. Scientists have announced that a planet has been discovered that is an incredible 10 times the size of Jupiter. Astronomers fear it could be even bigger after Christmas once it's been at the Quality Street. And some positive news to end on. Marc Francois has described his self-published autobiography Spartan Victory, which has just been released, as the best thing he's ever crayoned. You're watching BBC News. I'm Hugh Edwards.

OK, who needs a hug? Oh, my God, what's happened now? We can go live now to the Downing Street press secretary, Allegra Stratton, outside her house, where she's about to make a statement. I'm leaving my role as Boris Johnson's Press Secretary. And they're taking on a new role as official scapegoat for the almighty mess he's made. This will allow the Prime Minister to express his shock and disgust that one of his staff momentarily behaved with the sort of callous indifference to ordinary people

that he's made his stock in trade his entire life. And I hope my indiscretion helps Boris to grubbly cling to power for a few more weeks until a video emerges of him dancing to Eye of the Tiger at that party. But I am genuinely so sorry for the hurt I've caused the people of Britain, so I am now offering my resignation. Accepted! Now get your cute tush in here, Legsy! Enough blubbery! Babes, it's your leaving do. You can't leave your job without a bit of fizz. Forget Plan B. Plan C is we all get wasted and wake up naked in the cairngorms.

Hawkeye the new. And just for the record, I'm not here. Party! You're listening to The World at One with me, Sarah Montagu. The government has announced the introduction of its so-called Plan B Covid measures. I'm joined by the Health Secretary, Sajid Javid. Nice of you to actually turn up this time. Ha ha ha ha. Yes, Sarah. I thought you'd prefer to speak to me instead of an empty chair. Well, there's not a lot in it. It's still early days, isn't it, in terms of our understanding of the Omicron variant. So

why are you introducing these measures now? Look, throughout the pandemic, people have said the government has acted too slowly. So this time I was determined not to shut the stable door after the horse had bolted. But Omicron is now spreading freely in all parts of the country. So the horse is not exactly still in the stable, is it? No, but at least I didn't shut the stable door after the horse had bolted. So what did you do? I shut the stable door as the horse was bolting. And what does that mean? Basically, I've trapped a horse in a door.

Right. And it's a big horse as well, and a big door. Probably one of those ones that has separate top and bottom bits, like you get on a farm. That doesn't sound like an ideal scenario. It's not. for me or the horse, because the horse is all like, ow, what are you doing? Nay, that hurts. Ooh, the latch is digging right in my fetlock. And I'm all like, oh God, I'm not sorry, I must wonder if I could keep this horse wedged in there. Because I'm a strong guy, Sarah, but I don't mind admitting

I'm not as strong as a horse. OK, I'm not sure this analogy is really helping to explain the government's overall COVID strategy. OK, what I'm saying is this analogy is really helping to explain the government's overall Covid strategy OK, what I'm saying is people should expect a lot of squealing and snorting some desperate thrashing about and the whole thing's probably going to end up in an awful bloody mess My mistake, it's the perfect analogy for the government's Covid strategy Sajid Javid, thank you Hi folks, if you're phoning about this year's Christmas party, it's not happening.

It's not a party. And please, bring a bird and a bottle. Foie! Govie, govie, govie here. Just called to RSVP the party that's not happening. So excited. And I love, love, love the rules are for plebs theme. Think I'm going to go as a giant middle finger,

yet with a nice Santa bobble hat on top. If it's anything like last year's party that didn't happen, it's going to be an absolute banger. Shall I get a gram or two of the naughty stuff in again? Don't worry, I didn't buy it, just scraped it off the House Commons toilets. Gove out. BBC Radio 4. Coming up later, a history of the world in 100 objects. This week, Neil McGregor looks at Owen Paterson's brass neck. But first, The Archers. Oh, I'm a bit worried, Eddie.

I think we're breaking the new Covid rules. Don't be silly, Clary. Of course we're not. Well, I still don't like the idea of us all gathering in one place. Clary, what you haven't taken into account is all our archers' voices are recorded separately now. Really? Yes. I'm in my palatial cottage in Cornwall in my homemade studio made of mattresses and polystyrene. Brian, where are you? I'm in Barbados, taking a winter holiday.

Styrene? Brian, where are you? I'm in Barbados, taking a winter holiday. This pint of Shire's bitter in my hand is actually a banana daiquiri with a slice of pineapple sticking out of it. And Linda Snell is recording her lines from a branch of M&S in Huntingdon. Not quite, Brian. It's actually an S&M dungeon in Huntingdon. I wouldn't be seen dead in an M&S, not since they teamed up with Ocado. Joe here says he recorded his lines yonks ago, so he can still be in the show even though he's been dead for three years.

Sorry, Joe. I guess I could have broken that to you a bit gentler. Well, that is a relief that we're all observing the rules. I wonder where I'm recording my lines from. Stick your head out of the recording booth and have a look. Oh, no! I'm in the middle of the Downing Street Christmas party and Jacob Rees-Mogg is humping my leg. Oh, he should have been put down years ago.

You've reached the voicemail of Priti Patel. If you wish to complain about me hurling a stapler at you, press 1. For all other bullying, press 2. Priti, it's me, Priti Patel. The sweeping powers I gave myself mean whenever I fancy it, I can revoke anyone's citizenship if they're deemed to be a threat to the British way of life. For example, if they spend their days spreading hatred, division and fear. So, I'm afraid that means you're out.

I've got you leaving on a plane out of Heathrow at nine. Oh, and great news. Not a single do-gooder lefty lawyer said they'd have any interest in lodging a last-minute appeal to stop the plane on the tarmac. Result. Hello and welcome to the One O'Clock News with me, Sophie Raworth. As more details of the Number 10 Christmas party last year come to light, I'm joined by Labour Party leader Keir Starmer for his reaction. Well Sophie, this is clearly an egregious error from a Prime Minister and an

absolute disgrace. As leader of the opposition, I'm fully committed to throwing my brow harder than ever before. Have you asked for the PM to resign? I'm not a raving maniac. I will be taking cautious, measured steps. Right, that's it. Angela Rayner? I am proper raging, right? Let me at him. Miss Rayner, please could you kindly leave... I can handle this, Sophie, thank you. Angela, please, we have to wait for the result of the inquiry.

If you don't have the balls to ask for his resignation, then let me land a clean right hook on him. The old country's been insulted. When I get insulted, I get maddy as hell. Well, maybe you could just get maddy somewhere else. Yeah, that's a good point. Now, listen, Angela, I wasn't going

to reveal this now, but I'm going to have to. You may be reassured to know that I have instigated a series of sober and considered tuts. Tuts? What's a tut? I've never tutted in my life and I'm ready for a fist fight. Come on, who wants some? Angela, if you can't behave in a more sensible fashion,

you will force me to take drastic action against you. Like what? Suspend me from the Labour Party? Oh, God, no. I was just going to gently wag my finger at you. In cin cinema soon, it's the latest movie in the Matrix franchise. Morpheus tries to enlist a new recruit. You take the blue pill and you'll wake up in your bed like nothing happened

and go back to living a lie. You take the red pill, you leave this fantasy land behind. Pah! It's a no-brainer. I'll take the blue pill and stay put, thank you. It's fantastic. I can say and do whatever I like. I can have Christmas parties during lockdown, fly on private jets, and ignore the climate crisis, and pretend Omicron is just a name my classics teacher gave me at Eton. But this world of yours is corrupt.

Dad, you're a pitiful. There's no corruption here. I'm refurbishing my flat using a totally legitimate loan from a conservative mate who I made a lord for completely unrelated reasons. Listen to me. What I'm offering you is the truth. Good lord, no thanks. Now let me ask you something. Have you ever been to Peppa Pig World? It's much better than Legoland. Such things are designed to distract us. I went the other day. I bought a family pass, which couldn't quite cover all my children, and we had a blast. Come on, let's go now. Last

one on the Daddy Pig rollercoaster is a sissy. Wa-wa-wa! The Matrix. We told you reality was a thing of the past. And I thought Keanu Reeves was dumb. Giles Brandreth there, with that surprisingly harrowing look at Britain's biggest potato. Next on The One Show, the ashes are underway down under, and it's not going well for England so far.

Joining me in the studio is legendary former England batsman, Geoffrey Boycott. Evening, lad. I'm a woman. And mark my words, woman lad, England are going to win. They're too far ahead not to. But Australia are outplaying England in every department. Batting, bowling... Batting, bowling? I weren't talking about the bloody cricket.

I was talking about the scandals. England are miles ahead. Ahead in the scandals? Aye. Admittedly, the Aussies haven't done bad. What with the skipper sending a picture of his long-on to a lass that didn't want to be fielding it. So he's off.

Plus, the whole lot of them are bloody arts and crafts cheats with their ball tampering. But you still say England are ahead. Too right. We've got accusations of racism up to our britches. So do you accept the accusations that your beloved Yorkshire cricket club is racist? Now you come to mention it. No. They just said and did racist things consistently over a long period. Is English cricket racist? Listen, if we were racist, would we have brought cricket to the Caribbean or India?

But that only happened because of the British Empire. And now they've got Virat Kohli. You're welcome, lads. Given recent revelations about racism, don't you think you're being a bit insensitive? Of course I'm being insensitive. I'm Geoffrey Boycott. I'm hired and paid a damn good lick too, if you don't mind, to express opinions you'd kick your grandad's shins for at Christmas. You've gone to Jurassic Park to complain about the dinosaurs, lad. Stellar woman.

And getting back to actual cricket, any chance of an England fight back? Not a chance, they're hopeless bloody rubbish. You're watching BBC One where there's feathers ruffled in Albert Square this Christmas when in a tear-stained departure the last remaining viewer gets a taxi to Manchester. Now

we continue our lavish new adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. We join Alice as she stumbles upon a most peculiar party. Excuse me? Who are you? I'm the Mad Hatter, you fruity young thing. So called because whenever there's a photo opportunity, I wear a hat like a madman. Look, today I'm a policeman. Tomorrow I'm a fireman. Next week I'm a sheepdog in a tea cozy. This is my friend, the March Hare. Hello there. They call him the March Hare because he loves hair-raising

amounts of Colombian marching powder. Now, now, I only take it on my un-birthday because on any other day it would be illegal. I see. May I join your tea party? No, no, no room. Absolutely not. This tea party doesn't exist. It doesn't

exist? It only exists in the mind of the media. And if it did exist, then all the tea party rules were followed to the letter. But they weren't, because it didn't. Just ask the Dormouse if you don't believe me. Exactly. We are all a dream inside the mind of Laura Kunzberg. And when she wakes up and starts reporting it, we cease to exist. But that makes no sense. How can you say this tea party isn't a tea party? Hmm, perhaps you should have a go on one of these

mystical mushrooms. Okay, yes. Now it makes sense. Next week, Alice is forced to isolate for nine days after meeting Tweedledum Dominic Robb and Tweedledummer Grant Shapps. Hello and welcome to A Question of Sport,

the loveliest, cuddliest quiz show on BBC near the whole world. It's just all banter and cheeky, chunky Pringle jumpers and wry little chuckles for the next half hour. So, without further ado, let's get started. Question one. Why are the USA boycotting the Beijing Olympics? Yes, Judy Murray. Erm, I think it's over China's alleged treatment of Uyghur Muslims. Correct. Now, Judy, I'm sure you've got some mildly amusing asides that'll create a gentle ripple of laughter from our studio audience.

Er, no, Paddy, I'm afraid not. It's a pretty grim subject. No, yeah, it is a bit bleak, isn't it, really? Well, we'll edit that one out. OK, new question one. What has Yorkshire cricketer Azeem Rafiq alleged is widespread across cricket? Emma Hayes, what's your answer? Is it institutional racism, Paddy? Correct! Now, let the banter start. Well, not really, Paddy. That one's pretty grim too. I mean, institutional racism.

Well, yeah, it doesn't really sound like banter central. OK, another edit there. New question one. World Cup host Qatar have been accused of which human rights abuses? Lighter, Paddy, lighter. We can't banter under these conditions. There's got to be a light question here somewhere. OK, Hugo Monnier.

New question one. Gambling ads during sporting events have directly led to how many addict suicides? What? How is that light? I don't know. Which totalitarian state has bought Newcastle United? No. OK, here's one. What's the link between ending of football and dementia?

God, there's notes. Paddy, mate, we need something to spark the banter. What do you want me to do? Every single sports story is unrelentingly grim. Maybe this is the problem. You're focusing on men's sports. A rotten business, that. You've not got anything about women's sport.

Yeah, I think we've got one question. Go on, fire away. Question one. Where is Chinese tennis player Peng Shui? Yeah, never mind. Hello and welcome to This Week. I'm Andrew Neil, the mouldering plum you didn't pick up

because it stuck to the bowl. Joining me later is a cushion that assassinated Leopold IX, a unit of measurement that's only used for pies, a mongoose that hates trousers, and Diane Abbott! Andrew, your tone is unwelcome. It conveys to the uninitiated in the country at large

that you have reservations about my presence and that in itself is grounds for harumphery. Harumph. No, Diane, I would never want to convey that impression. I'm very glad to see you. Unusually glad, in fact. Really? How so? Well, I had this terrible dream. I dreamt I left the BBC in a hissy fit, like a big baby, and set up a ridiculous television channel on my own which looked like it was filmed in John Whittingdale's sex dungeon.

Thanks. How terrible. What happened after that? I became the laughing stock of the whole world. That sounds like a really terrible dream. It was. Thankfully, that's all it was. Just a nightmare. And here I am, safe and sound with you in the This Week's studio. Hmm. Have you ever considered, Andrew, that all that actually happened and that this is the dream?

Oh, no. That would be too terrible to contemplate. And anyway, if this is a dream, I'm sure I would know. Of course, Andrew. And now, if you'll excuse me, I think my head is going to split open. To reveal that I am Jeremy Corbyn. I and my army of angry gnomes have been working Diane Abbott. Now we will march at a Western super mare and demand traffic calming measures that taste of cheese. Not so fast, Jeremy Corbyn.

I, Michael Portillo, shall stop you. See my salmon-coloured slacks have the power to turn into angry flamingos. They will herd you onto this lovely steam train with the face of Quentin Letts. Curse you, Portillo. I will escape on my Nigel Farage-powered motorbike. What? No, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Changing gear now. Let me speak. No, no, no, no, no, no. Well, that seemed like a perfectly normal episode of This Week to me.

Not a dream at all. I'm Louis Theroux, your weirdest crush. I'm in LA, delving deep into another seedy underbelly to meet English presenter of new Radio 4 show, Things Fall Apart, John Ronson. Hi there, John. I'm Louis. Nice to meet you. How are you doing? Can I come in? Is that OK? Can I ask you questions? You all right with that?

This bespectacled British presenter intrigued me. I was curious to learn why he was here, while at the same time putting him at his ease. I was surprised to find John using the same intimate voiceover technique that I thought was my own. I wanted to find out more. Louis seemed to be forgetting that I started doing Fe disarming voiceovers long before him. The tension was building between John and I. It was time for me to deploy my gentle tones and polite inquisitiveness. So, John, when did you decide to muscle in on Radio 4?

Because I don't think there's room for both of us. Can I ask you that? Is that all right? Is that OK? Do you mind me asking that? Exactly as I thought. Louis' use of fake humility was just like mine. So I shrugged. By not answering me, he was clearly stealing my unique use of long silences. Louis seemed to think long silences was his idea when it was clear we both stole it from Alan Wicker.

After half an hour of mutual staring, I realised I had met my match and it was time for me to go. I hope I'm leaving you, as I always do, with a feeling of having been very gently unsettled. This is the BBC News. Yes, maybe if we're all very quiet it'll stop. Oh my God, what now? Maybe if we're all very quiet, it'll stop. Oh, my God, what now? Boris Johnson and his wife Carrie have announced the birth of their second child,

a healthy baby girl we can cross live now to the hospital. What a blessed event this is. We haven't thought up a name just yet, but Carrie rather likes publicity bonanza. All I can say is that I have appointed my new daughter to replace Allegra Stratton as my new Downing Street press secretary. And she's ready to take questions. Laura Kinsberg. Boris Baby, have you seen the report

suggesting you were present at an event nine months ago where the wine was flowing, there was nibbles and the very opposite of social distancing? Oh dear, the baby needs changing. I can either replace her with Julia Hartley Brewer or that woman off the Trivago ads. What a mess. Dead Ringers was performed by John Coleshaw,

Lewis MacLeod, Jan Ravens, Deborah Stevenson and Duncan Wisby. The writers were Nev Fountain and Tom Jamison, Lawrence Howarth, Ed Amston and Tom Coles, Edward Chew, Rob Dark, Cody Darla and Tasha Danraj. It was a BBC Studios production and the producer and creator was Bill Dare.