Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - Party's Over - 12th August

Episode Date: September 23, 2022

What happens when the prime minister suddenly stops being prime minister? One day you're the most powerful person in the country, the next you're irrelevant, forced into retirement 30 years ahead of schedule and find yourself asking 'What do I do now?'"I can't just disappear like Gordon Brown. They say he barely gets out of bed now. Just sits there doing word-searches and eating Kit Kat Chunkies. Miserable. I hate the chunky ones." Former British Prime Minister Henry TobinThis week, a security breach leads to MI5 sending Henry a new personal protection officer.Starring Miles Jupp, Ingrid Oliver, Emma Sidi, Justin Edwards and Mali Ann Rees.Written by Paul Doolan and Jon Hunter Producer: Richard Morris Production co-ordinator: Caroline Barlow Sound recordist and designer: David ThomasA BBC Studios Production

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. Parties Over by Paul Doolan and John Hunter. And a reminder of our top story. Former Prime Minister Henry Tobin was tonight assaulted after giving a speech to his old college at Oxford. The evening had already descended into angry protests.

Captured on this phone footage. Why did you treble tuition fees? It wasn't technically my fault. I kind of hit the wrong number on the keyboard and had to roll with it. Fascist! Mr Tobin was assaulted after the event. Early reports confirming he was punched in the eye and thrown into the river Cherwell. Mr Tobin had this to say as he was released from hospital.

Now is not the time for thoughts of revenge, but these people must be caught and imprisoned for a minimum of four life sentences to run whatever the opposite of concurrently is. Questions are already being asked of the security services as Mr Torbin was alone and without his protection officer. I briefly left my post when I noticed a suspicious-looking student who I feared could be set to attack Mr Torbin. I followed this potential assailant to the King's Arms pub

and I observed him over a chicken and leek pie and four pints of Newcastle brown ale before he mysteriously disappeared. I have nothing more to add except that the pie was excellent quality. Actually, it was a glossy, thick gravy, although the patient... Come on, Jones! Get me home! There you go, my love.

A lovely warm cup of tea for the patient. Oh, thank you. Ooh. Ooh, is this English breakfast? Yes. That's all we had in the cupboard. Oh, I'd really like an Assam. I mean, if you could pop to the shops, that would be amazing.

I really don't have time to... Oh, my back. It hurts. OK, I'll go later. Just let me know if you need anything else. The papers would be nice. Oh, if you could grab my iPad too. And the charger.

Some soft fruits would really help as well. OK, but I did warn you that doing a speech in front of students was a bad idea after you raised fees and put a 30% tax on Rizzlers. I thought it was a type of electric car. Where is he? Is he OK? I'm fine. Mr Tobin, look what they did to you. If they catch the bastards that did this,

then I want five minutes with them, no cameras. They think they can beat up the greatest politician this planet has ever produced? I'll bite their eyes off. He's fine, Natalie. He's just milking it for sympathy. Just a few bruises. They'll heal. Did I ask you, Judas? You left him unguarded

like a fruit pie on a windowsill. Oh, Christine, when you go to the shops, could you pick a fruit pie? Well, I had no choice. I was tailing a potential threat. Ah, yes, this mysterious assailant. It wouldn't be the same one you had to follow to the drive-through KFC last week, would it?

Well, it would be hard to say. I'd have to see him carrying a megabucket, to be sure. Right, well, I'm off. Oh, some custard would be good with the fruit pie. Some mini-magnums? No, I'm not going to buy you any ice creams. I'm a vegan. I don't agree with the dairy industry.

Since when? Wait, have I been in a coma or something? What year is it? I've only just started, but I am taking it seriously. Do you know how much free stuff vegan influencers get sent? Oh, there we are. I can barely wait for the inedible fake cheese to start rolling in. This could actually be big for us. I've even been having a bit of a vegan chat on Instagram with Riley Perry With who? Riley Perry He's a vegan influencer

Well, you must know who he is He's one of the people behind the people who came up with Veganuary And he isn't on a stamp? All you need to know is that he has two million followers on Instagram And said he'd appear on my podcast when he heard it had a million subscribers And you have a podcast? Are we absolutely sure I wasn't in a coma?

I haven't technically got one yet but I am starting one this week so I could potentially get a million subscribers. Now Riley Perry's going to be on it. So not really a lie or a chicken egg situation or whatever the vegan version of that is. I'll get it. If it's for me

tell them I'm too weak to come to the door but just leave any gifts by the... Bang! Take the big guy out. Bang, bang, that's the woman dropped. Assets isolated. Bang! One in the head. Bang, bang, two in the chest. Over in seconds.

Avon really are getting pushier these days. Bobby Shields, Elite Protection Officer. I'm here to save your life. You're here to what? MI5 have raised its threat level from utterly insignificant to attack likely. You're two days late on that. I'm here to make sure we don't get copycats.

And just in the nick of time, by the looks of it, I found a suspicious package at your door. Has the letters R-A-S-H-R on it. Possibly Russian. I doubt it. Putin and I always got on well. He sent me that computer as a birthday present.

It was the one he said only worked if it was plugged directly into the House of Commons mainframe. Actually, sir, that's not a bomb. That's from Rasher. That's my bacon subscription service. And there's been a mistake. Mr. Tobin already has a bodyguard, me,

and I'm the best in the business. Is that your gun outside on the doormat? Oh, great. I was wondering where I left that. Since your catastrophic failure, you've been demoted to a secondary security position. Which position? One as far away from the assets as possible.

Go into a perimeter sweep and leave the important work to me. Move it! Move it! Okay, so this definitely plugs into here and... Ugh, no. Damn. Are you going to be moping around getting in my way all day, Jones? Or should you be protecting my husband from some sort of imminent student uprising?

Well, I'm sorry, Mrs T, but Bobby told me to stay out of her way. I'm doing a sweep of the pencils to see if any are dangerously sharp. Well, you could give me a hand. I'm trying to set up my podcast equipment but I keep picking up on background noise. Ah, right, you'll be wanting some soundproofing. Hang on.

Oh, dear. Not you as well. What's wrong, Natalie? I'm just a bit bored, Mrs Tobin. Normally, I'd be doing Mr Tobin's correspondence around now, but Bobby's checking it all first for threats, and... Oh, my God, what if this is it? Bobby's already replaced Jones.

What if she replaces me as well? What if Henry says, Natalie, I don't need you anymore, I hate you, and then drowns me? Oh! I'm sure he won't do that, Natalie. For a start, personal assistants willing to work for below the minimum wage with no holiday

are quite hard to find. That is the best thing I've heard all year, Mr Tobin. Right, here you go. We'll have you soundproofed in no time. We'll just staple these to the walls. Wow, that is quite a lot of egg boxes. Where on earth did you find those so quickly? Why are there several hundred loose eggs in the living room? Ah.

Well, I may have overordered on my bacon subscription and I figured I can't eat all that bacon without eggs. You know you could have just got rid of the bacon instead of eating it all, Jones? I don't get what you're saying there, Mr Torbjorn. What are you doing up here, Christine? I could really have done with another back rub just now. I am still recovering, you know. You were nowhere to be found.

Oh, I could give you... Not your job, Natalie. We're preparing the studio for Riley Perry. He's agreed to do my podcast. He's cycling over later. Well, I didn't realise we had such an esteemed celebrity living in the area. Well, while you're ruining the guest room,

I'm off to the village for a spot of lunch and to check through the papers. Make sure I'm still making headlines. I'll get my case. I'm not sure that you need to come... I'm getting it. Sorry, but I'd better be there, Mr Tobin. You need me to assistant you.

I'm indispensable. Let me help you down the stairs. Wait for me. Right, well, that's the soundproofing done. Let's just check it out if I just shut myself in the new podcast studio and I make a bit of noise. Wait, could you hear me? No, nothing at all.

Excellent work, Jones. Right, smash in. I'll give it a few minutes before you go in there. I'm on two dozen eggs a day. doesn't exit day. Come on! Double speed on me.

We need to golf Oscar now. Go, go, go! Or we could slow the foxtrot down. A moving target is hard as a hit. We're only going to the cafe. I'm quite keen on seeing if they've got their flat white game after I wrote that review, giving them a few pointers. Lots of very important emails coming in, Mr Tobin, but I'm dealing with them indispensably.

What have we got? There's an email from the Lib Dems that says, don't forget we exist too. Oh, and you've been asked to cut the ribbon and open the village's new waste reclamation site. It's a big honour, it says here. Hard no. The press would have a field day. Can you imagine the captions they'd run with the photos of me standing in a rubbish tip?

Hero saves the planet? Not the exact words I was thinking of. You don't need to be doing this, Natalie. I'm on top of all engagement requests. Probably sensible. I am a high-risk individual. Right, well, I'll forward them to you then. What's your email again? Thirdwheel at nataliehatesyou.com

Henry! Henry! Oh, no, it's Cyril Cooper, that boring old... Cyril! Hi. Yes, I'm so glad I called you. I really wanted to have a word about under whose remit falls the mowing of the patch of grass by the oak tree, because... Back away!

No contact with Mr. Toobin! Back! Back! Drop the walking stick! Don't make me use this! But... On the ground! Now! Eat it!

Eat it! Hands behind your padama! You belong, Mr. Toobin. So sorry, Cyril. Can't stop. That was useful. Makes one feel like a proper celebrity again. There is no one more proper. Would someone who wasn't a proper celebrity have just been asked to go on Have I Got News For You? Well, we've seen it recently. I don't recognise half of them.

What? They've asked me? Just this minute. Good thing I was there to get the email right. Oh, well done, Natalie. Finally, things are going right for Henry Tobin. Oh, bugger. Owing to complaints, the cafe is shut down for staff retraining. Here you go, Mr Tobin. I've ironed your towels.

And your toast. Great. Yes. Have I got news for you, Al. I'll actually be on proper television. BBC One. Well, you were on BBC One only yesterday, sir. Really? Ah, yeah. You were on Answer On Pointless. What was the... What was the category again? People who've been booed by children at state events.

Thank you, James. Still, have I got news for you. Who knows what could follow? Oh, well, according to RadioTimes.com, it's Mrs Brown's boys. I could print it out if you like. I bet Bobby wouldn't do that. I mean, what could follow for me?

Job offers, parties. I could even restart the Tobin Foundation. Surely everyone's forgotten about that little tax thing from before. Well, this calls for a celebratory savoury cream egg. Isn't that just an egg? Well, yeah, it is, sir. I have to admit, 1,200 eggs is a lot to get through, even for me. I had a 90-egg omelette for breakfast.

Hand on heart, I'm feeling a little sluggish. Might want to get your hand away from there, as that heart is likely to explode. Henry. Oh, speaking of explosions, you're looking particularly livid, my love. What's happened? Did you and this Roger Perry have... Oh, Riley Perry, a.k.a. the meat-free mogul, age 27, shoe size 9.

I'm very useful. Did you fall out? No, we didn't even get the chance to speak. He didn't show up. I called and he said he wasn't allowed in the house unless he consented to a body cavity search. Ah, well, now I'm a high-value target. Bobby does have to take security seriously.

I hardly see how her sticking her hand up an Instagram influencer's passage is going to help. He thought it was a sick joke. Bobby does have to take security seriously. I hardly see how her sticking her hand up an Instagram influencer's passage is going to help. He thought it was a sick joke. Bobby has to go. Oh, she's great. Things are really turning around for me since she arrived. Turn around! Hands up! On the floor! Everybody walk the

dinosaur. I love that song. What are you doing? Proving a point. If I'd been a serious threat, you'd be dead, sir. You're in no shape to get away. We need to up your fitness, get you in the shape of your life. I'm going to put you through a series of critical evacuation drills. Or maybe French cricket?

I mean, that's a thought. Hup! Matt! Go, go, go! Oh, that's better. Could I get another ice pack for the other arm? Just one for the legs, a couple on the bum. I feel like I've been interviewed by Emily Maitlis. Now that's all the ice from the freezer.

Perhaps a soothing egg could help. I can hardly move. Christine, could you get me a calippo? No. I've already been to the shops twice for you. There's vegan mini-magnums in the freezer. They taste the same, kind of. I got them in for Riley. The podcast's back on then? No, not yet, but

I'm going to take a leaf out of your book and do what you did to get your cabinet back on side. Lay down the law and say it's your way or nothing. No, I'm going to cry until he changes his mind. Yeah, well... None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for your stupid security officer. No, that's not fair.

Well, not you, his new stupid security officer. Yes, I don't know if I can take much more of Bobby. Hopefully she'll calm down soon. Mr Tobin, I've just got off the phone to have I got news for you. I wanted to make sure they sent you a bigger car than Ian Hislop. And also make sure there'd be no jokes about you or your time in politics. And instead, it would be a 30-minute celebration of your great achievements. They were quite confused.

Yes, I'm not surprised. But, no, they were surprised because you've already cancelled. What? Affirmative. That was me. It's too much of a threat to your safety. Paul Murden is a radical leftist who I'm pretty sure is an ISIS sleeper agent. Add to that hot studio lights,

an audience of strangers. Trust me, sir, people who take up tickets for these BBC comedy performances are the most warped people in Britain. You can't cancel. Oh, I've got news for you. I've thought up a really good joke comparing Keir Starmer to a Keir Sportage. Once boring and liable to break down... It's too dangerous.

No, I've instead accepted the gig opening the waste reclamation site. Easy to protect you there as it's high walls on three sides. And because hardly anyone will turn up. Right, there's no easy way to say this, but Bobby, you're fired. Actually, that was very easy. Except you can't actually fire me. Only MI5 can remove me from my role. And they're very pleased with my performance.

Due to the fact that you're still alive. Ah. Right, I'd better go prepare for my grovelling call to Riley. Maybe I should send flowers. Though to someone who loves plants so much, that's probably the equivalent of a horse's head in the bed. Helpful as always, my love. See you later.

Right, sit on your feet. Let's train. Again, I am an invalid, you know. Actually, I've just remembered I've left a window open upstairs. All of them, in fact. A threat could be climbing through right now, coming to butcher you. I'd like to volunteer to be a human shield. Secure in the perimeter.

Do not move from this room. Right. That should buy us enough time to run to the village pub. I cannot take any more of her. Come on. Right, there you go, my love. Two pints of IPA, one gin and tonic, half a cider, and three

fish and chips. Ah, right, thank you, pet. Are you two not having anything? No, we need to think. We need a plan to get rid of Bobby. Can't spend my life hiding, afraid to show my face. I did enough of that in politics. Don't get me wrong, I hate Bobby with the power of a billion volcanoes. But you do need protection.

What those students did to you was scandalous. Yes, well, maybe it wasn't. Er, they punched you and threw you in a river like an old shopping trolley. Or a piece of bread for a duck. Or a fishing line. Okay, but I may have been a little economical with the truth. There was no attack.

What? Quiet. Okay, right. Nobody can find out about this. Particularly Christine. I would never live it down. But the black eye and the river. After my speech, I decided to walk back to the car

on my own, since Jones had gone AWOL. My shoelace came undone, so I sat on the bridge to tie it up. I pulled my knee up with a bit too much force, kneed myself in the eye, and fell backwards into the river. I didn't want to own up, because it would have made me look ridiculous. Oh, I don't know, sir. You've done much more humiliating things.

There was that no confidence vote when you accidentally voted against yourself. You know, this has given me an idea. What if I got attacked again? Think about it. If the last attack got Jones demoted, another one would surely get rid of Bobby. How could you get people to attack you? Well, you know what worked last time,

when you told that school party that Paddington was awful and should be steamrolled into the ground. I meant the station. No, sir, I will not let another hair on your head be harmed. It was bad enough last time. I wouldn't need to actually be attacked. We could fake it again. This opening thing tomorrow at the waistline should be harmed. It was bad enough last time. I wouldn't need to actually be attacked. We could fake it again. This opening thing tomorrow at the waist side should be perfect.

All we need to do is get Bobby distracted and have Jones save me from an attacker. What attacker? You. No. No, I can't do it. I won't do it. I could never hurt you. You wouldn't have to hurt me. What do people normally do to politicians? Boo them a bit and chuck some

rotten fruit or... Oh, eggs! For once, Jones, your egg surplus may actually be useful. It's perfect. Now, Natalie, we need to make sure nobody recognises you. Do you have a balaclava? Oh, yes, several, sir. I went through a bit of a Bader-Meinhof phase in my youth. Kids, eh? But I refuse to attack you, sir. A good assistant would never attack their lord and master. First, please stop calling me your lord and master. And second, you must do what I say. Oh, no. Oh, no.

I want to help you, but I don't want to attack you. What should I do? This is as bad as Sophie's choice. It really isn't. No, it is. My friend Sophie had to make the choice whether to lie to the police about a party her boss threw at Number 10 down...

Secrets. I mean Number 5 Downing Street. Right, well, there's one way to settle it. Natalie, attack me or I will sack you. Yes, sir. Right, excellent. Now, who's for a celebratory unpickled egg? That's just an egg.

Yep. You've got Riley. Namaste. Oh, and a namaste to you too. Hi, Riley. Christine Tobin. Oh, you. Have you called to physically intimidate me again? Because, like, Daddy has some very good lawyers, you know? Yes, I'm sure he does. But no, I'm just calling to apologise. Again. The only reason that security is so tight at our place is, well... well, since I've turned my life to the promotion of veganism,

I've faced nothing but death threats from the meat lobby. Oh, really? Are these people... I went through something similar myself when my last cookbook came out. It only got three stars in The Guardian. Yes, I can see why that is as bad as a death threat. But we must rise above them, right? We have to get our word out through our books or our podcasts. The planet depends on it. It does.

Wow, I never had you down as such a strong advocate of our cause, you know, especially after your husband... Yes, put foie gras on school dinner menus. Yes, that was a mix-up. We're both really very committed vegans. So, shall we do it? Shall we make a podcast and save the world?

Will your security guard be there again? Why don't I come to yours instead? Say Friday evening? We can record the podcast and you can show me your next book. Get the word out early. I'm in. Perfect. I'll get my personal assistant, Jones, to box up the equipment and send it over first thing tomorrow. Ciao. Getting no visuals on any potential threats.

You're clear to enter the waste reclamation site. The words every man has longed to hear. Ah, now, this looks like the person I need to talk to. Henry Tobin, pleased to meet you. Ah, oh, right, but I thought... Oh, well, hello. Hilary Grant, councillor. Pleased to meet you, I suppose. You were expecting somebody else?

No, no, councillor. Pleased to meet you, I suppose. You were expecting somebody else? No. No, of course not. Well, maybe I might have slightly confused the names. Just checking, you didn't used to present going for gold, did you? No. That was Henry Kelly. Oh, of course. Oh, dear. Well, play the hand you're dealt. The photographer should be round here somewhere.

I'll go and find her, then let's get this old reclamation site open and we can all go home. Such a shame. Quite the welcome. Oh, Bobby, did you see that? Just over there by the glass bins. I swear, I just saw a couple of students looking shifty. They will rue the day.

Wait here, and if you see anything suspicious, run. Head down. Zigzags to avoid gunfire. Will do. OK, Jones, are you ready? Oh, I was born ready, sir. Well, not born. I spent the first few months in an incubator, actually. I didn't fit in the regular one. Their two's were designed for cows. I feel safer already.

Right. Time to call Natalie. Here, sir. Right, are you in place with your balaclava on? Yes, but I don't feel good about this. I know, but we need to go now before Bobby gets back. Are we ready, councillor? Oh, yes, right, yes, I'll introduce you. Ladies and gentlemen, attention, please.

It is my honour to introduce our guest, a man who I know shares my passion for recycling. In fact, you might say we're wanting to take all this rubbish and really go for gold. Yes, sorry, I wrote this earlier when I thought. Oh, well, it's Henry Tobin. Thank you for that wonderful introduction. You know, I first got into politics because I wanted to clean up Westminster. But really, I'd much rather be cleaning up the planet, which is why... Down with Henry Tobin, even if he is a legendary statesman.

What's going on? She's got eggs. Somebody save me. I'll save you, sir. Oh, they've got me. Oh, they've got me. Oh, they've got me. Oh, goodness. Are you OK, Mr Tobin?

I am, thanks to Jones here. That's all in a day's work, sir. Looks like they were throwing eggs. Burford Browns, if I'm not mistaken. Very thick shell. That could have been nasty. What happened? Is the asset safe?

I'm fine, Bobby. No thanks to you. Jones, on the other hand, took an egg for me. I tried to chase them, but they got away. They looked like they felt really bad about it, though. I should never have abandoned my post. No, you shouldn't. And I'm going to call up MI5 to tell them just that.

But not before I call up Have I Got News For You to tell them I will be doing the show after all. I really don't think that's a good idea. I'm not sure your opinion counts anymore. Why don't you go and do a perimeter sweep instead? Jones is all the protection I need. Jones? Jones, come away from that pile of rubbish!

Oh, sorry, sir, but I found an old Mr Frosty. Why would someone throw that away? Oh, there's a rat in it. Oh, God, get off. It's mine. I must say, it's a delight to have you as my sole protection officer these last few days, Jones. So much more relaxing. Well, thank you, Mr T.

Though I do feel a bit sorry for Bob here. I hope she didn't lose her job or anything. Ah, just a temporary demotion. I heard she's been assigned to watch Prince Andrew. All in all, I think it's time to celebrate with a lovely fry-up. Who's for bacon and eggs? Ah.

Oh. What is it, Jones? My box from Russia seems to be full of podcast equipment, which means I must have sent the other box to... Well, that was a disaster. I arrived to find a furious Riley standing in the doorway,

holding a slab of bacon and three dozen eggs. He looked like he was in shock. Shell shock. That's my vegan credential shot and the end of my podcast. Oh, what a loss. I've printed out another resignation letter, sir. I really think you should accept it after I threw those eggs at you. I will not be accepting this one either, Natalie.

You were a good and dependable assistant. I'd be lost without you. And you've been with me long enough now. You know where the bodies are buried. North-east corner of the compound under the pear tree. You meant figuratively. Yeah, I didn't say that Isn't it why I got news for you starting about now? I thought you'd be glued to the TV to see yourself

Though you were very shifty about how the recording went You know what, shall we skip it and watch something else instead? Neil Kinnock's History of Coastal Erosions on the other side Times gave it three stars, called it watchable It's very unlike you not to want to watch yourself. What happened, Henry? Oh, it was fine. Nothing too bad. I mean, they probably edited out the worst bits,

but we should probably do something else instead. Does anyone fancy Scrabble or a very long walk? Give me that controller. And on the other team, Paul Merton and an ex-Prime Minister, Henry Tobin, who has starred in his own film this week when CCTV caught him going for a dip when he tried to tie his shoelaces.

Oh, they kept it in. So I've been running around after you all week because you knocked yourself into a river. Um, maybe. What are those swans doing to you, sir? It looks like they're all

Oh, oh, oh my. Ah, they caught that bit too. I think in my light suit the swans must have mistaken me for some sort of mate. I don't do that with my mates. Well, how interesting. I think somebody owes us all quite a large apology.

I'm very sorry. Yeah, not you, Natalie. Henry, fetch me something to eat? Yes, of course, dear. What would you like? You know what? I could murder a bacon and egg sandwich. Party's Over starred Miles Jupp, Ingrid Oliver,

Emma Siddy, Justin Edwards and Malianne Rees. It was written by Paul Doolan and John Hunter. The producer was Richard Morris and it was a BBC Studios production.