Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - Party's Over: ep4 Parish Council 13th August 2021

Episode Date: August 13, 2021

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?'Miles Jupp stars as Henry Tobin - Britain's shortest serving and least popular post war PM (he managed 8 months).We join Henry soon after his crushing election loss. He’s determined to not let his disastrous defeat be the end of him. Instead Henry's going to get back to the top - he's just not sure how and in what field.This week, Henry meets a local nemesis as he tries to make some home and garden improvements so Christine steps in with a plan.Henry Tobin... Miles Jupp Christine Tobin... Ingrid Oliver Natalie... Emma Sidi Jones... Justin Edwards Albert...Joseph MarcellWritten by Paul Doolan and Jon HunterProduced by Richard Morris and Simon Nicholls Production co-ordinator: Caroline Barlow Sound design: Marc WillcoxA BBC Studios Production

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. All day long. Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th. Terms and conditions apply. As women, our life stages come with unique risk factors, like high blood pressure developed during pregnancy, which can put us two times more at risk of heart disease or stroke. Know your risks. Visit heartandstroke.ca. Parties Over by Paul Doolan and John Hunter And there we are.

One shepherd's hut-cum-garden office built from scratch by my own hand. I really am becoming quite the craftsman. You are, my love. Aside from the fact it came in a flat-back kit and Jones did most of the actual work. Had to move it three times. You know, Mr Tobin's very particular about where his shed goes. Shepherd's Hut. Jones, not a shed. This bespoke

alpine hut is the start of a new chapter in my life. The command centre from which I launch my comeback. And most importantly, it's five square feet bigger than David Cameron's, so Cameron can eat it. Or get a lobbyist to eat it for him.

Size isn't important, darling. It's what you do in it that counts. Well, next week, I'll be posing in it for a few casual photographs while I chat to a journalist from the Sunday Times. Might drop the size difference into conversation. Are you all right, Jones? I've not seen you this out of breath since Nigella Lawson was on The One Show. No, no, there's no need to worry about me, Mrs T.

Exercise, it's all part of my new regime. So, what on earth is that? That's my new fitness tracker. It keeps an eye on my pulse and my blood pressure and my movement. I'm aiming to do 1,000 steps a day. Isn't it meant to be 10,000? Oh, very funny. Very funny, Mrs. Ten thousand steps.

Come on. I'm not more farrah. Oh, God. Just that laugh has taken it out of me. I'd better have a little sit down and a scotch egg. Oh, the post's arrived, Mr. Tobin. I've separated it into looks important, looks like junk, and smells like Oh, the post's arrived, Mr Tobin. I've separated it into looks important, looks like junk,

and smells like another dog mess in a jiffy bag. Now, this one looks important. What could it be? Job offer? Maybe a proposition for a lucrative bit of lobbying? Oh, this is the local parish council. Utter bastards. Makes a change is the local parish council. Utter bastards. Makes a change from dear sir or madam. Dear Mr Tooby. Well, that's spelt wrong. Your application

for a shepherd's hut style shed has been denied as the capacity is exactly five square feet above regulation site. Please dismantle it immediately. Yours, Albert Fox, Chen. Albert Fox? The doddery little old guy from the balls club? Even you could talk him round, Henry.

What do you mean, even me? Come on, Jones. We're going to the parish office to sort this out. I mean the nerve, Jones. Trying to take away an honest working man's boutique alpine-style shepherd's hut. The parish council shouldn't be poking around my garden. They should be dealing with important things like the village's massive drug problem. What massive drug problem? Those two teenagers outside the co-op with the jazz fags.

Aye. Well, it'll be the cartels moving in next year. Snitches strung up under bridges. Have you been using my Netflix password to watch Narcos again, James? Ahoy there! Awfully sorry to keep you waiting. The old hip's not what it used to be, Mr Turban. Of course, you won't have to worry about that for a good ten years or so.

I hope it might be longer than that. Positive thinking, there's the spirit. Sir, what can I do for you this fine day? Well, Mr Fox, Albert, if I may, it's just this shepherd's hut. Is there a way of bypassing the regulations? This shepherd's hut, is there a way of bypassing the regulations? Unfortunately, in life, as in bowls, rules are there for a reason. Of course, but it's only a few square feet.

Could we come to an arrangement? You like your crown green bowls, maybe I get my hut, and the bowls club gets a sizeable-ish donation. Well, we are in need of a new roller to keep the green in shape. You see, Jones, the way to an old man's heart is always through his bowels. At least it's not like the old job where I'd have to offer him

a peerage or access to Rishi. Ah, but I'm afraid it's a firm no. It may be how you did things in your brief dalliance in Westminster, but I don't take kindly to bribery. So sorry, and as chairman of the parish council, my word is final. So, er, how long are you in the chair for? I have no plans to retire.

Right. Any illnesses? Suspicious new coughs? No. I'm actually standing for re-election unopposed right now. So I'll have a good long stay at the top. Unlike some others I could mention. I'll leave the demolition to you for now. Toodle-oo.

But my shed! It's a hut, sir. Shut up, Jones. You're back quickly. How did the meeting go? I'm going to destroy that old man. Went well, then. I'm going to run for election,

take over the parish council and give myself planning permission to build a shepherd's hut. This is my Mandela moment. Well, you've got my vote. I'll call the press and take a photo for the campaign flyer. Oh, maybe you as a fireman carrying a kitten out of a burning house. You all wet in your abs. Yes, thank you, thank you, Natalie.

Amazing idea, Henry. Really tip-top, with just one minor flaw. What's that? Everyone hates you and you'd never win an election. They don't hate me. You went on Desert Island Discs and told the nation your professional hero was Harold Shipman. I forgot Macmillan's surname and panicked

OK, maybe I'm not at my most popular right now But there is one way we could do this What if I run? You? But you're not a politician So that's one tick in my column already And you know I love you But people do tend to warm to me slightly more than to you. Oh, yeah, people do prefer Mrs T.

When I'm out with her, nobody ever throws insults or pricks. Yes, and maybe, you know, just for once, it would be nice to be in the limelight as myself rather than as wife of disgraced short-term Prime Minister Henry Tobin. Oh, don't look at me like that. I didn't know you disliked standing by me so much. I don't. It's just a lot of the times I've stood by you,

it's been while you were informing the gathered press you were stepping back to spend more time with your family. I'd want you involved, of course, but maybe slightly more... Hidden away? Well, I was going to say behind the scenes, but yes. I suppose I could be the Bill to your Hillary. Only, you know, successfully.

And, well, I could be Monica. Please remain as Natalie. Natalie. Jenna, if we're being Clintons, can I be the one who makes all the cards? So, are we doing this, then? Well, this could be fun. There's nothing fun about elections. Natalie, I need you out in the field,

finding out the issues that mean most to the locals. I'm going to start on your campaign speech. You're going to write it? What should I do? Fire up the Nespresso. Triple Ristretto should get me going. And is there any of that pork pie left in the fridge? Oh, I'm sorry, it's pork pie. It always gets my heart racing. People of Bellsbury, we stand on the edge of a new dawn.

The hand of history grips our shoulder like an eagle ready to lift us, for I believe we can make this village a new Rome. It's a tad grandiose. Politics should be grandiose. It's about inspiring people. This isn't Westminster. We need a friendly, local touch. I mean, come on. The campaign to deliver a new zebra crossing by the post office will be our blitz. We will look death in the eyes, but we will not blink. Be honest, did Dominic Raab help you with this? He may have added a few thoughts.

You should see the stuff I left out. Where would the village even put a gallows? Look, thank you for your help, but it's my first hustings tomorrow and I want to do it my way. So why don't you fire up the Nespresso for me this time, then go and play in your little Wendy house. It's a shepherd's hut. Little.

Tell that to Cameron. Five extra square feet. Which I now accept has caused more problems than it's solved. Right, there's your radic and your muscles. I'll see you later, my lovely. Who's next? Hello there. I'm conducting research on behalf of Christine Tobin. She's running for parish council.

Do you know her by any chance? Tobin, Tobin. Oh, yeah, parish council. Do you know her by any chance? Tobin, Tobin. Oh yeah, yeah, the Wally's wife. Well, Christine cares about the people and wants to know what the most important issues are to you. Well, I suppose my main area of interest is

fish and fishmongery. Great, yeah, well that's a very important issue to Mrs Tobin. You see, Mrs Tobin's campaign will do anything to secure your vote. Anything? Oh, well. Well, I suppose the biggest issue is that one of my fridges broke last week and it needs

cleaning out. I mean, the smell is repulsive, you know. If you could sort that out, I'd vote for her. Uh-huh, okay. Where is this fridge? It's this one here. Whoa! That's quite

an odour. Okay. Just leave it to me. Come on, Natalie. Remember what Mum always said. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Dancing is for the sinful. If the police storm the barn, bite the pill.

Will you stop pacing, Jones? Oh, I think it's sweet. He's nervous for me at my first Hustings bless. No, I'm just getting my steps up, Mrs T. I'm on 630. Sorry I'm late. Oh, Jesus What is that smell?

Oh, well, that's the smell of an extra boat I've been helping out at the fishmonger By rolling in rotting fish guts? No offence, Natalie But could you stand a little further away? Maybe in the next village Oh, quite like that smell, you know Reminds me of scampi knick-knacks

Oh, scampi knick-knacks Oh, scampi knick-knacks Oh, no, kale, no, think of kale, think of kale OK, the key to these events is to make your opponent look weak And remember, if it starts going wrong, do what I did in the big debates Sweat profusely and accidentally call Kay Burley Mummy No, fight dirty Mrs Tilbury sweat profusely and accidentally call Kay Burley Mummy. No. Fight dirty. Mrs Tobin. Mr Fox,

how are you feeling? All this activity must take its toll at your rage. Would you like to sit down? That's very kind of you, but no thank you. Would you like to go first? Thank you everyone for coming. Well, I think we'd all rather be at home watching Bake Off,

so I'll keep this brief. You might wonder why I'm running for parish council. I may be new to this village, but sometimes something new is what's needed. A fresh angle. I love Bellsbury. It's why we moved here. But everything needs an

update every now and then. Like your front garden, Mrs Craig. It looks so beautiful now. You must tell me how you got your clematis looking so vivid. Oh, she's good. I basically read all of that. Though she took up the bit about Mrs Craig's garden being the battlefield for a war between the forces of order

and chaos. And if you'll give me the chance, I'd like to give this village a refresh, because heck, I love this place. Thank you. I almost feel sorry for him, but he shouldn't have messed with my shepherd's hut. I am a powerful man to cross. Thank you, Mrs Turbin. And she's right about your clematis, Fiona. They were always my Grace's favourites.

Playing the dead wife's sympathy card, that is low. It's always delightful to hear an outsider's view of the village. Well, I'm not exactly an outsider. I feel very much a part of this community. Oh, absolutely. It really is wonderful how we have taken you to our hearts, particularly after how you presented yourself on, what's the term again, social media over the past year.

Um, what have... 3rd June this year. User Tobin78. The village shop has closed for lunch. What sort of backwards place is this? I've got this. I think you'll find that

username actually belongs to me. Just letting off steam. Stress of the job. Oh, interesting. job and all. Oh, interesting. August 5th. Can anyone recommend a salon? I'm in desperate need of a bikini wax. I am a strong

advocate of male landscaping. Judging by these posts, it doesn't strike me that the Tobins particularly like Belsbury at all. You look a little tired, Mrs Tobin. Would you like to sit down? That devious old snake, how dare he? Use your written words against you. Well, I thought it went well, Mrs T.

Oh, thank you, Jones. Yeah, apart from the end, that went really badly. It was a real car crash. Oh, God, yeah. How did he run rings round us like that? I thought I was prepared. We've got the campaign style, Rog. We've kept the gloves on.

Right, well, take them off. I want to hit that old sod with everything we've got. Dirty tricks, everything. Henry, I want you to go full Cummings. Whatever it takes. Right, I'm going to bed. Hopefully I'll dream about destroying that lovely old man. Right, I'm going to bed. Hopefully I'll dream about destroying that lovely old man. Right, Natalie, I need you. Oh my God, I feel it too, sir.

What I was going to say was I need you back out there tomorrow. Right. Find out what the voters want, whatever it is, however ridiculous or out of control. Guarantee them we'll get it done if they vote for us. I will never let you down, sir. See? Getting the idea already. Meanwhile, I am going to start a whispering campaign of lies and deception. Belsby FM, broadcasting all the way from the Big Tesco to Bill Cooper's farm over by the viaduct.

24 hours a week. Cooper's Farm over by the viaduct, 24 hours a week. Albert Fox says he loves his village. Albert Fox claims to be an honest man. But who is funding Albert Fox? Could it be Russia? ISIS? We just don't know because Albert Fox doesn't think the good people of Bellsbury deserve to know. All we have about Albert Fox are questions.

Does Albert Fox have links to African child labour? Does Albert Fox want to dissolve the royal family? Does Albert Fox secretly love to urinate on war memorials? We put these questions to an actor playing Albert Fox, and he said... Yes. Don't vote to keep Albert Fox in the henhouse. Vote for change in your local parish council election. All suggestions of impropriety by Albert Fox are intended to be fictional.

Sponsored by Christine Tobin for Bellsbury Parish Council. to prepare to counsel. The ladies' polls are in. You've gone from 40% to 50%. Yes! What was it? My promise to eradicate crime? Oh, the photo op with the WI. No, the Pumsleys changed their vote

after Natalie Tarmac did drive. Er, right. You know what you're doing? Into the pub, chat to a few locals, smile, shake hands. Yes, yes, I have chat to a few locals, smile, shake hands. Yes, yes, I have been to a pub before, Henry. Come on.

Hi, Christine Tobin. Oh, love this place. Oh, hello again. Who are you? I've never seen you in my pub before. Oh, good one, good one. Pub banter. I know you, though. Usual Jonesy. Ah, yeah, Newcastle Brown. Half a dozen pickled eggs and eight bags of pork scratchings.

Actually, do you know... Just make it four bags of scratchings. I want a health kick. While I'm here, I wanted to talk to you about those two lads outside the co-op. Now, I don't know about you, but it strikes me that they feel themselves above the law, like crime has taken over the village,

like maybe it's time someone cleaned it up. Good one. You keep going on the landlady. I'll get to work on that old couple. Hi. You guys heard about Albert Fox's latest plan? No. He's only gone and given the Chinese permission

to build a wind farm in the village, to be built by his army of sex offenders. Good evening, everybody. I hate to be a nuisance, but there appears to be a large Mercedes blocking the access road so the tractors that are so important to the running of our community can't get through. Oh, it wouldn't be yours, would it, Mrs Turbin? I was sure we left plenty of room. Go and move wouldn't be yours, would it, Mrs. Turbin? I was sure we left plenty of room. Go and move the car, please, Jones.

Can you keep an eye on Miss Crutchins? I'd really rather not. Well, to show you how we do things in a quaint old village like this, how about a round of drinks for everyone on me? None of our negative campaigning's paying off, because people actually like him. He's got to be hiding something.

Nobody's actually that good. Remember when everyone thought Nick Clegg was the beacon of a bright, new, clean politics, and now he's basically PR for a supervillain. There must be a skeleton in Albert Fox's closet, alongside 15 pairs of bowl shoes. Leave it with me. If there's dirt, I'll dig it up.

Jones, we are going on a stakeout. Oh, sorry, got a bit excited at the mention of stake. What are you up to, you scumbag? Well, I'm just walking on the spot trying to get my steps up, sir. Not you, him. Albert there in his kitchen. The fox in his den.

Who knows what evil plan he's formulating. We need to find something if Christine's going to crush him in tomorrow's hustings. Oh, wait, wait, there's someone at his door. What? Isn't that one of the kids from outside the co-op? The hash he's shaddicked. He's handed him something in return for cash. A drug deal. Right, move out of the way, Jones. I need to take a picture.

We've got him, Jones. His pockets are lined with drug money. We can smear him. I've not smeared anyone in ages. He's going up to bed. Oh, he's left the window open. Right, give me a leg up. Not up there.

Oh! Look for any signs of drugs. Oh, this is huge. What is it? Heroin? Cocaine? It's Sharp. What Sharp? Some kind of designer street drug? No, no, Sharp, the Sean Bean series. He's got the entire box set of Sharp.

So? But it's the Dutch Blu-ray. That's considered amongst aficionados to be the best picture version of Sharp available. Rutger Hauer revoices Sergeant Harper. Whilst that is undoubtedly momentous, let's limit our search to illicit goods before the old man wakes up and this turns into my Watergate. Oh, aye, aye.

A drawer full of spoons. And with his spoons, there's drugs. It's a cutlery drawer. There's also knives and forks. Several chopsticks. Oh, wait! Jones, look at this tin. It's not just me, this looks very druggy, doesn't it? A set of weighing scales, a rolled-up banknote.

Oh, that's very suspicious, sir. What's in that little tub? White powder? It must be drugs. Could it be cocaine? Heroin? Spe must be drugs. Could it be cocaine? Heroin? Speedy withs? Trolley coke? You really don't know much about drugs,

do you, sir? No, how do we know if it's drugs or not? Well, you've got to test it. You've got to rub it in your gums. What? Well?

I don't know. I've no idea what drugs taste like. Let's just take some photos of it all and get out of here Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh He's moving Stay completely silent Seriously? Now? Oh, I can't help it, sir. I'm so excited about Sharp.

Hello? Is anyone there? Quick, let's go. And with me as chair of the parish council, I will make sure that Bellsbury isn't just twinned with Borglun in Belgium, but also twinned with progress, with passion, and with leadership. Thank you.

She's crushing it, Jones. And here comes the knockout. Any more questions? Ah, yes. Stranger at the back. Thank you, Mrs T. I mean, woman, I do not know. My question is, what do you

think about drugs? Oh, that is an excellent question. I have to say I'm against them. Unlike Mr Fox over there, who, and it really does pain me to say this, would rather associate with criminals and junkies. And judging by this photo sent to me by an anonymous source, Mr Fox may be the epicentre

of the drug problem himself. Exhibit one, a photo of Mr Fox handing over a package for money to a known drug user. And exhibit two clearly shows a box of drug paraphernalia, including one tub of suspicious white powder, namely drugs. Do we really want to put the security of this village, our village, into his control? At the risk of moralising, the dark, drug-filled heart of Albert Fox has polluted Bellsbury for long enough, but I will get this village clean.

I rest my case. If I may have a bit of the old right of reply, Mrs Tobin is correct. I do associate with addicts. You see, I am a volunteer with various addiction charities as a mentor. Ah. The lad in the photograph is young James. I'm his sponsor.

He's been clean for over eight weeks now. He was simply returning £30 I loaned him to buy his mother a birthday present. And as for security, I'm actually very tight on the subject. I even have security cameras set up throughout my cottage. Oh. Imagine my surprise when scrolling through last night's footage, I saw this. Exhibit three. That's your armed thug in my living room, isn't it, Mrs. Tobin?

And there's your husband. Ah, yes, this does look bad. But the reason we were there was to unmask a criminal. And thank God we were. How do you explain that tin of shame? It's a memory tin where I keep reminders of my dear old Grace. Come on, Fitz. The weighing scales.

She was a baker. Everyone in the village loved her macaroons. Well, you could use her now because this rambling excuse is certainly half-baked. The rolled-up banknote. That's a Disney dollar. If you'd flattened it out, you'd see it signed by Donald Duck. A souvenir of our final trip to America.

And how do you explain the tub of powder? I tasted it myself and confirm it was definitely Class A drugs. Unless you have another implausible explanation. They're my wife's ashes. Oh, God. Oh, well, that has cleared that up. Memory tin, what a delightful tribute. So sorry for your loss.

No hard feelings, then. Next on the agenda, education. Christine? Now, accountable. Anything you'd like to say, Mrs. Stobin? Oh, I can't believe I have to do this. I will be stepping down from this election and from politics to spend more time with my family.

That's the last of the shepherd's hut. And the last of my political career. Both of them short-lived, but still slightly more impressive than David Cameron's. I'd tell you that it feels better over time, but it really doesn't. Well, at least today can't get any worse. There you are. There's a lady at the door to take some photos for the Sunday Times. Oh, God, perfect.

Well, that really is the icing on the dog turd. You know, if you want a room they can never knock down, I could dig you a bunker. We had three in the compound growing up. Four if you count the secret armoury. Thank you, Natalie. I'm not sure about the optics of an ex-head of state locking himself away in a bunker. Do you know, I know it seems bad now, Mr Tobin,

but I've got something that's going to cheer you right up. My name is Lieutenant Richard Sharp. And I'm going to show you to the Bastard Front of the Mafia. You OK, Jones? Oh. Party's Over starred Miles Jupp, Ingrid Oliver, Justin Edwards, Emma Siddy and Joseph Marcell. It was written by Paul Doolan and John Hunter. It was produced by Simon Nicholls and Richard Morris

and it was a BBC Studios production.