Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - The Naked Week: Ep4. Who ya gonna call...? (Clue: It's Donald Trump)

Episode Date: April 3, 2026

The team tackle Trump's tirades, and very much give the BBC's incoming Director General a problematic in-tray.From The Skewer’s Jon Holmes and host Andrew Hunter Murray comes The Naked Week, a fresh way of dressing the week’s news in the altogether and parading it around for everyone to laugh at.With award-winning writers and a crack team of contemporary satirists - and recorded in front of a live audience - The Naked Week delivers a topical news-nude straight to your ears.Written by: Jon Holmes Katie Sayer Gareth Ceredig James Kettle Jason HazeleyAdditional Material: Karl Minns Sophie Dickson Darren Phillips Joe Topping Kevin SmithInvestigation team: Cat Neilan Becky Pinnington Emily ChannonGuests: Cariad Lloyd, Simon Munday.Production Team: Tony Churnside, Jerry Peal, David Riffkin.Production Coordinator: Molly Punshon Assistant Producer: Katie Sayer Executive Producer: Philip AbramsProduced and Directed by Jon HolmesAn unusual production for BBC Radio 4

This BBC podcast is supported by ads outside the UK. Dive into the bonkers world of David Mitchell and Robert Webb and listen to their BBC comedy show. From nonsensical maths quiz number wang to finding out what James Bond is really like as a party guest. There's something for everyone. Hello, MOTT AAT. Yes, that's right. This is the Ministry of Things that are apparently true.

Yes, we do exist. The rumours are true, ironically. Start listening to that Mitchell and Web cell. the complete series 1 to 5 wherever you get your audio books. Hi, Andrew Hunter Murray, welcome to The Naked Week. Imagine panorama if it had lost everything by trusting national savings and investments. Coming up on the Naked Week this week, President Trump's warships target the home city of SpongeBob SquarePants. It's all at the bottom of the sea. Not the first time he's taken down a bikini bottom without warning. Jeremy Vine's been staring up the neighbourhood with his new hobby.

Several dead moles strung up on a so-called gibbet line by their pink snouts hanging in a row from the barbed wire fence. Coincidentally, also Lee Anderson's luxury item on Desert Island desks. And if you're feeling worried about the current state of everything, don't worry. Wes Streeting has this message for us all. If there's one thing that is in even shorter supply in this country, the money at the moment, it is hope and optimism. We're streeting there, the radiohead of politics.

He's a creep, he's a weirdo. What the hell is he doing here? Now, every day that the war in Iran carries on, one thing becomes clearer and clearer, and that is everything about the entire conflict is becoming less clear. This week alone, he's claimed that the war is over, the war is not over,

he's bombing a power plant, he's not bombing a power plant, he's doing a deal, he's not doing a deal, he's done a deal, he's not done a deal, Everyone's dead. Not everyone's dead. He's deploying troops. He's not deploying troops. There's regime change. There's no regime change. But he's definitely talking to Tehran or maybe not talking to Tehran because in a wonderful deployment of Iranian irony, Tehran accused him of spreading fake news.

Surely not. Surely Donald Trump, the very man who coined the phrase fake news cannot himself be spreading fake news. We're through the looking glass here, folks. If the fake-taxed man who cries fake is called a faker by a fakir, what the fake is going? But why? Why would he do this? Why, all this lurching from random claim to random claim, like Boris Johnson staggering between waitresses at a drinks party? Why would Trump suddenly, as Europe's markets began to collapse on Monday, issue a statement around 6 a.m. Washington time, saying he'd sorted it. You imagine, he must have been woken by his handlers, careful not to disturb Melania, herself sleeping just a few

thousand miles to his left. And they got the president to shove this out on truth social. Here is what he wrote as voiced by the Naked Week's Capslock correspondent. I am pleased to report that the United States of America and the country of Iran

have had detailed and constructive conversations which will continue throughout the week. I'm just going to bust into this in-depth detailed and constructive post to say that. Right there, he spelled which. W-I-T-C-H. So he's obviously a fan. This is to do with witches.

Carry on, Donald. I have instructed the Department of War to postpone any and all military strikes. Which is, WITCH, great news. It is, of course, textbook Trump. Yet another example of him backing down. You may have heard the acronym TACO,

which stands for, Trump always chickens out. Though it also refers to the fact that his skin is increasingly beginning to resemble the surface of a soft tortoise. tear shell. Another irony when you consider, he would happily lock up all the residents of Old El Paso.

And he's a bell. Anyway. But just how can we interpret the current situation in the Middle East, despite this mass of conflicting information? Well, to find out, please welcome the naked weeks interpreting the current situation in the Middle East, despite this mass of conflicting information correspondent, is Carriad Lloyd.

So, Carriad, who are we to believe? Well, not the gang of terrorists led by a deranged despot who will say anything to save their own skins. Could you narrow that down a bit? No. Instead, what we're going to do is explain everything that's going on via a game of Iranian whispers. Oh, is that like Chinese whispers? No, that's offensive to a completely different group.

Iranian whispers is easy to play. The idea is that I say absolutely anything I like, Then you say that's total balls, then I've won Iranian Whispers. Round one. Okay. The White House is winning this war. No, it isn't.

Oh, you've just lost Iranian Whispers. What? Round two. This war will definitely end in the next two weeks and have no long-lasting, irreversible consequences. That's total balls. You've lost again. How?

This game is stupid It's okay, Andy It was your first time No one's brilliant on their first time At least you didn't cry afterwards Okay okay All right my turn I've got one

Okay Donald Trump is mentioned In the Epstein files 38,000 times And lest we forget Was found liable for sexual abuse In a civil court Well you've broken the game

How? Well sorry That's true And there's no room for truth In a game of Iranian whispers It's a poor game and it doesn't make sense but I'm sure Richard Osmond would still get 10 series out of it but it's not just Trump who's creating this unpredictable atmosphere

At the weekend in a Hamilton defying throwing away of their shot Iran launched two missiles at the UK-US military base of Diego Garcia in the Chegos Islands causing widespread speculation that London might be next and that is terrifying but you have to ask yourself would Iran really risk incurring a 180-pound penalty charge? 90 if paid within 14 days

for detonating a bomb within the ultra-low emission zone. Honestly, though, missiles that can reach London, I don't think I've ever heard anything so horrifying. It's awful. I mean, the whole idea is just so London-centric. Every week, the BBC gets emails saying it, focuses too much on London, and now the Iranians are at it too? Don't they know the UK has loads of thriving urban centres, all just as deserving,

just as deserving of ballistic attack as the capital? So we're here to discuss which cities are rightly annoyed that war is so London-centric. It's our which cities are rightly annoyed that war is so London-centric correspondent. It's Carrie Ed Lloyd. Hey, Andy, I'm back. I've just been looking at all the bids from around the country. I'm sorry, bids. That's right.

Attracting missile. has become a key objective for many of our metro mayors. Look at Andy Burnham. He does prepare it if you do. He's making a compelling argument that awarding the missile to London would be a backward step and that only Manchester has the kind of infrastructure

and facilities that would really benefit from being flattened by an Iranian aerial strike. Burnham's got a point. Only one, but he has made a career out of it. Meanwhile, Sunderland and Newcastle are making an innovative application for a joint firestorm. While Dundee argues that, especially in this day and age, long-rage obliteration should not be out of reach for the people of Scotland.

It feels like it's impossible to know what's going on in Trump's mind, although presumably some people do. We can't do that. We don't have his number. Or do we? Because, in actual fact, it turns out that, Donald Trump's personal mobile number is genuinely obtainable. Most political journalists know what it is. It's one of those open secrets in Westminster

that everyone in the press knows, but they don't pass on to the public. Like the fact that Ed Davy has a nozzle instead of a belly button so he can be inflated like a life raft. Or the time that Michael Gove laid an egg. So The Naked Week did some investigating, by which we mean we chained Robert Peston to a radiated. until he told us.

We then had that translated into English. And now, we too, genuinely, this is absolutely true, we have Donald Trump's personal phone number. Now, of course, we could call him right now, but if we... But if we wanted to shoot the breeze with an out-of-control despot,

we'd just go on a Mul Rajan's podcast instead. So we thought we'd give you the opportunity, empowering you the listener with the ability to phone the president yourself. There is one problem. It turns out we cannot just tell you his number because the BBC said that would be invading his

privacy. We pointed out that Donald has no problem with people invading things that aren't theirs. It was no good. And that is why, throughout this episode of the Naked Week, rather than read it out, we will be embedding the separate digits of Donald Trump's personal

mobile phone number into the show, and if you listen carefully and keep track, you can genuinely, genuinely piece it together. You're welcome. Can I just say it's an oh, oh, one to full idea? And it's just a coincidence that that's the international dialing code for the USA. We're so dead.

Now, if you do manage to get through, please pass on our best wishes. Oh, excuse me. Hello? You got our message, you say. Well, thank you for calling back. but I'm sorry, I have told you before, I'm not having anything to do with you

until you apologise for your many crimes against the human race and start rebuilding your bridges with the international community. My mum. She's called 561 times today already. That's 5.6. It's just nice for the new Director-General

to have something in his entry, you know? You're listening to The Naked Week on Radio 8. Where it's time once again to hark at the gentle world events waterfall that burbles current affairs over the healing stones of traditional Japanese poetry. It's the news in high coos. Morgan McSweeney claims phone stolen. Is that you, Rebecca Vardy? In haikus. Dive into the bonkers world of David Mitchell and Robert Webb and listen to their BBC comedy show. From nonsensical maths quiz number wang to finding out what James Bond is.

really like as a party guest. There's something for everyone. Hello, MOTT, AAT. Yes, that's right. This is the Ministry of Things that are apparently true. Yes, we do exist. The rumours are true, ironically. Start listening to that Mitchell and Webb sound, the complete series 1 to 5, wherever you get your audiobooks. By the way, if you're interested, my favourite line was the line with seven syllables. And my next favourite line had five.

You're listening to The Naked Week In the week that the government have announced a wave of new towns in England Along with a number of locations where they could be built Not sure how many, could be zero But according to reports this week They're struggling over what to call them With the Sun newspaper suggesting that names in the frame

include Hankhurst, Athelston and Atleaton Which is also what Jacob Rees-Mogg calls his genitals Now, as you know, We at the Naked Week like to help, so we've come up with some alternative town names for the government's consideration,

ones that we feel are more in keeping with great British values. I'm joined by the Naked Weeks, what should we call the new town's correspondent? Carriad Lloyd. Carriad, what have we got? I'm pleased to say I have the definitive final shortlist. Andy, here you go, in no particular order.

Tird upon Thames. Brexit come what may. Tutting. Chitstable. Unexpected item in the world Saint Op the Boats You've got to be faster than that guys The Firth of Colin

Bishop's victim Ramesh on everything And New Girl under Andrew That's just outside stones You're listening to The Naked Week In the week when Dame Sarah Malali was made Archbishop of Canterbury And speaking of women taking jobs

That a man could do perfectly well It's time to welcome the vicar to my tart It's Observer Whitehall editor and the Naked Week's chief investigative reporter, Kat Neeland. Kat, what have you got for us this week? A question, Andy. Have you ever read a party election manifesto? Do I look like a friendless virgin?

I'll rephrase that. No. That's a shame, because on May 1st, the UK will experience the rarest of rare events, a government actually making good on a manifesto commitment. The rent is right. Act, said to be the biggest shake-up in the Latin industry for a generation has become law. OK, the Renters' Rights Act, a signature Kirstama policy alongside appointing friends of paedophiles

and ignoring literally everyone warning him not to appoint friends of paedophiles. Kat, what does this act do? Fundamentally, it's designed to stop private tenants being taken advantage of. For example, rent can now only increase once a year in line with market rates and tenancies will become rolling contracts that the tenant can end by giving a notice period of two months. Right, two months. That's one and a half trusses or 12 directors general. But the biggest change is that Section 21 or No Fault Evictions will be completely banned. Landlords can no longer kick out tenants whenever they like and without a valid reason.

And no doubt the nation's landlords have happily waved this through, like Reform UK happily waving through candidates with tattoo removal loyalty cards. So, overall, excellent news for the UK. the country's 11 million private renters. Thank you, Kat. No further questions. Actually, I do have some further questions, Andy. I'm sorry, who are you? I'm Becky and I work in the Naked Week's Further Questions Department. Oh, I'm welcome. We've been investigating private landlords and some of their more, let's say, proactive responses to the new laws. And here's my first question. Why aren't you wearing a poppy?

Because it's March? Well, let's hope that's good enough for the people who make them, specifically the people running a charity called the Poppy Factory. They're a non-profit organisation that makes ceremonial poppy wreaths, works with the Royal British Legion on its annual appeal, and assist veterans with training and job applications. Okay, well, they sound lovely. Where are you going with this?

Well, the Poppy Factory also owns a block of 68 flats in south-west London. The vast majority of the residents are working class, including some on universal credit, and several with severe health and mobility issues. And on the 10th of February this year, about half the residents received a letter from the Director of Operations of the Poppy Factory, whose name, and we swear this is genuinely her real name,

is Debbie Bortflower. Debbie Bought Flower from the Poppy Factory. It's incredible. That's the greatest bit of nominative determinism since Usain Bolt or, please not him again, turn the telly off before I put my foot through it, Maidly. What did this letter that they received say?

Well, it said that due to the new laws coming into force, the poppy factory would be raising rents to keep them in line with market value, even though many of the tenants had signed new leases with previously agreed rent rises just last year. Now they've been given just 14 days to choose, either sign a new higher rate contract or get booted out. Two genuinely terrible options. It's a real Sophie's Tory leadership contest.

But Kat, there's nothing technically. wrong with what the Poppy Factory did, is there? Nothing legally wrong whatsoever, Andy, although we could perhaps argue over just how charitable it was, particularly if you dig into the details. For example, a property's rental market value should be determined by multiple independent valuations, but the Poppy Factory refused to tell its tenants

who had carried out these valuations or what the figures actually were. So the tenants just had to take their word for it? Pretty much. But they were all told that their flats had previously been valued at, quote, below the average market rent, which now needed to be corrected. And they had to take their word for that too. Yeah.

Well, if you can't trust a landlord, who can you trust? Good question, given that the poppy factory also refused to meet residents as a group, insisting on one-to-one meetings only. The Naked Week heard from one tenant who was informed of the rent increase just days after completing treatment for breast cancer. She asked the poppy factory for a meeting alongside representation from the tenants' union ACORN and was told no. The next communication she received from the poppy factory was,

you guessed it, a Section 21 no-fault eviction notice. Yeah, that escalated fast. And that eviction notice is one of at least ten that the poppy factory has dished out to tenants unhappy with these massive rent increases, which incidentally actually raised their rent above that for similar properties in the area.

How many is it? The poppy factory has distilled out? Ten. Ten. Yes, but exactly how massive an increase are we talking here? Are we talking meta-payout over ten? child safety massive or Donald Trump's new BBC lawsuit after programme surreptitiously gives out his phone number massive? In some cases, as much as 35%, the smallest monthly increase seen by the naked week is £5.25. A month?

A month. And the largest is a pretty staggering £800. And remember, this isn't a gradual increase. This is immediately. One resident, a single mother who has lived with her child in a poppy factory flat for 14 years, told the naked week that she was shaking and in a state of shock, thinking I'm going to be homeless. There's no way I can afford this, and they want it pretty much overnight. All right. So this is a non-profit that appears to be seeking to extract as much profit from its, in some cases, vulnerable tenants by drastically increasing rents at a rate way above inflation, and if the tenants refuse, the charity is kicking them out by slapping them with no-fault eviction notices. All things they won't be able to do a few weeks from now,

thanks to labour bucking the trend and honouring a manifesto pledge. All nice and legal, and I'm sure you'll agree, deeply moral. Now, the poppy factory told us... The affected homes are let on the open market and rents have often been well below local levels. We have a legal duty as a charity to collect reasonable market rent to protect our work helping the most vulnerable veterans and their families. We extended our consultation with tenants

and no one is being asked to pay more than others already pay for similar properties or above market rent for the property condition. However, Andy, we wanted to go the extra mile this week. We wanted to do something special to commemorate the extraordinary compassion of the Poppy Factory and to mark the sad passing of the Section 21 No Fault Eviction Notice. I'm concerned by the word special. Well, traditionally at a remembrance ceremony, you'd have a solo trumpeter performing the last post. Yes, but obviously that would be very disrespectful and totally inappropriate for a topical comedy show.

Correct, Andy. The Daily Mail would label you a vile BBC Funny Man. And that's already what it says on my coat of arms. So, of course, we haven't booked a trumpeter to perform a solemn rendition of the last post. Good. But what we have got is a trumpeter to perform a solemn rendition of something more appropriate to this week's investigation. Which is? No. It's nothing to do with witches. It's the theme from BBC One's Holmes, Holmes Under the Hammer.

Wonderful. Now, if all of you would please, bow your heads for a moment of silence in memory of the Section 21 no-fault eviction notice as a solo trumpeter will perform the theme from Holmes under the hammer. Very moving.

And if you think that's in questionable taste, wait till you see what Channel 5 has done with Hugh Edwards. Thank you, Catley, and Becky Pillington. Now, you can tell the seasons are changing. The daffodils are out, the clocks go forward this weekend, and we've just had the first new... BBC Director General of Spring. I swear it gets earlier every year.

After months of HMS BBC, drifting rudderless in the media ocean, navigating only by the moonlight shining off Ryland's teeth. Finally, in the last couple of weeks, keen observers have spotted that famous sign, the white smoke billowing from the top of that noncy statue on the front of broadcasting house, and indicating that the BBC board have found themselves a fresh patsy. Yes, after an exhaustive search, the BBC board has selected the right man for the job of being thrown under the bus by them in about six-month time. As announced this week, the new DG is former Google executive Matt Britton, whose name alone should build bridges with GB News viewers.

And it's spelt wrong, which should appeal to Guardian readers. Now, he will be officially inducted next month in a ceremony that involves lowering a one-shundering a one-shunding. presenter into a flaming volcano, before ripping out their still beating heart and holding it up before a baying mob of Telegraph opinion columnists. Having been at Google for 18 years, that's 1818, 1818. He was a champion of AI helping to launch Gemini, Google's very own chatbot. So naturally, we've asked it what it makes of Matt's new job. You've spent the week hunched over the naked week laptop.

What has Gemini got to say about the BBC's new DG? Yes, Andy, you'd expect it not to have anything bad to say about its old boss. And you'd be right. Here is the first return I got. Matt Britton has been announced as Director General of the BBC. Okay, so far so Google? So, right. I asked, give me more biographical detail about Matt Britton.

It said, Benjamin Britain was a 20th century English composer. best known for his war requiem and the young person's guide to the orchestra. Okay, so far, so AI. Quite. So I said, not that Britain, the BBC one. And it said, I think you're asking me about Little Britain, a comedy show widely regarded as unacceptable.

Join the club. I have to say, I have zero and zero and one more zero confidence in Matt's Google chatbot. So I said, no, tell you. Tell me about Matt Britain. And did you finally get somewhere? It replied, Matt Britain is a paint. It is also available on two other finishes.

Gloss Britain and Eggshell Britain. Interesting. How many other finishes with that, sorry? Two. Two. Matt Britain there. Google's loss is about $6 million after this week's court case against them for causing social media harm to children. And finally, I'm just going to type this one in live.

Gemini. What does the future hold for the BBC? That's Robert Peston. He's still chained to that radiator. That's it from The Naked Week this week. Goodbye! The Naked Week was hosted by me, Andrew Hunter Murray, with guest correspondent Carrie Ed Lloyd and trumpeter Simon Monday. It was written by John Holmes, Katie Sayer, Gareth Carrick, Jason Haysley and James Cattle,

with investigations team Kat Neiden, Becky Pittington and Emily Chanon. Additional material by Carl Minz, Sophie Dixon, Kevin Smith, Darren Phillips, Joe Topping and David Riff. The Naked Week is produced and directed by John Holmes, and it's an unusual production for BBC Radio 4. Hello, Mr President, this is Andrew Hunter Murray, calling from Radio Falls The Naked Week. We were hoping to speak to you about the war in Iran,

but since you haven't picked up, we won't be able to use this bit in the show. Shame, really. Well, thanks for the witches shout-out, love to Melania, and her body. Dive into the bonkers world of David Mitchell and Robert Webb and listen to their BBC comedy show. From nonsensical maths quiz number wang to finding out what James Bond is really like as a party guest, there's something for everyone.

Hello, MOTT, AAT. Yes, that's right. This is the Ministry of Things that are apparently true. Yes, we do exist. The rumours are true, ironically. Start listening to that Mitchell and Webb sound, the complete series 1 to 5, wherever you get your audiobooks.