The Unbelievable Truth - 02x01 Bears, Beards, Queen Victoria, Tennis

Episode Date: October 8, 2021

02x01 5 May 2008[16] Phill Jupitus, Alan Davies, Simon Evans, Tony Hawks Bears, Beards, Queen Victoria, Tennis

We present the unbelievable truth, the panel game built on truth and lies. In the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. and lies. In the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. Hello and welcome to The Unbelievable Truth. The show mixes a succession of outright lies and exaggerations with a number of completely true facts. So if you can imagine a dinner conversation between Mohammed Al-Fayed and Heather Mills McCartney, you'll be halfway to understanding it. Please welcome our four guests, who are going to mix fact with fiction. They are Phil Jupitus, Tony Hawk, Simon Evans and Alan Davis. The game is a neat blend of pure simplicity and unnecessary complication.

Each of the panel will present a short talk on a given subject which should be largely fabricated. However, they've all been provided with a number of true pieces of information which they should try to smuggle past the other players. Points are scored by truths which go unnoticed, while the opponents can win points if they do manage to spot them. We'll begin with Phil.

Phil, your subject is bears, defined by my dictionary as mammals whose common characteristics include a large body with stocky legs, a long snout, shaggy hair, paws with five non-retractile claws and a short tail. Bears are not all known for their fearsome growls. Far from it. The spectacle bear of South America, in fact, emits a kind of low chuckle. The panda bear bleats like a little... Oh, hello. Tony. I think the spectacle bear of wherever it was does emit of low chuckle. The panda bear bleats like a little... Oh, hello. Tony. I think the spectacled bear of wherever it was does emit a low chuckle.

The spectacled bear of South America? Do they have bears in South America? Well, there is... Well, they have bears, they have spectacles. I mean, how long could it take for... Even if there is such a spectacled bear, or, as you say, Paddington, who's also South American, it doesn't, as far as we know, chuckle.

It may, you know, silently find us amusing. We shouldn't... I don't think we should use Paddington because that's his slave name imposed by his white owners. That always bothered me. I once toyed with the idea of holding what I would call a Peruvian dinner party and serving only marmalade sandwiches. Phil, carry on.

The panda bear bleats like a little goat and the Kodiak bear clicks at a speed of a thousandth of a second and has a warranty you can extend to three years. For many years it was compulsory for European royal families to keep bears as pets. Tsar Nikolai II in the 19th century,

had a Russian brown bear that he fed on cake and vodka. Tony? I think he did. If a Russian had a bear, he'd definitely give it vodka. Let's give it vodka, just to see what happens. He wouldn't say anything after he'd be ripped to shreds. I mean, I certainly, if I was an emperor of Russia, would want to see what pretty much any animal looked like pissed.

But apparently not this particular Tsar. So these are minus points I get if I get buzzing and wrong. Yes, unfortunately, both the chuckling of the spectacle bear and the absence of a drunk Russian bear is costing you dear. Yes. Bill. Louis XIV would arrive at Versailles Balls with a bear dressed in the manner of his least favourite courtier. And Henry II...

Oh, hello. There's no way you made that up. That's got to be true. You're just questioning Phil's level of creativity. Louis Quator's? If you were buzzing just about whether or not Louis Cator's existed, I mean, he did, but I didn't... The thing about Louis Cator's taking a bear in,

dressed as his least favourite courtier, I suggest is true. Well, it isn't. I'm sorry. Phil. And Henry III imposed a muzzle tax on Londoners for the polar bear he kept in the Tower of London, but only for fishing. Bears are well known in the world of automotive commerce. In 1980, American manufacturers Dodge cancelled the launch

of the Grizzly 4x4 after a trade review of the car during off-road trials said simply, shit in the woods. And Edinburgh Zoo... Oh, hello. Yeah, I bet they did. Yeah, definitely. Has Alan been with Tsar Nicholas II feeding him vodka and cake? No, yes.

No, that's not true. And Edinburgh Zoo got extra funding from German car giants when they named the country's only captive polar bear Mercedes. Simon. It was about time I buzzed, I felt, and that was the end of a sentence. So, statistically, it gives me as good a chance as anybody else has had so far.

I'll say that was true. Actually, statistically, you know, you've really hit the jackpot, because yes, it was. Yeah. Britain's only polar bear is a female bear, kept at Edinburgh Zoo and called Mercedes. In gay subculture, the plump, giggly men are known as bears, but unlike real bears, they hunt in packs.

And like the grizzly bear, Christopher Biggins can't climb trees. Alan. The grizzly bear can't climb trees. Absolutely right. Yes! Yeah! But what's not so clear is whether or not Christopher Biggins can climb trees. But grizzly bears certainly can't.

In the world of law, bears have made their appearances. American hanging judge Roy Bean was known as the grizzly judge because of his savage sentencing. Hello. Tony. I'm sorry. I know I'm going to be unpopular until I get one right. But I think that the grizzly sentencing thing is a truth.

It's just not. No! Scora's running out of paper today. And a Canadian man was acquitted of murder when he explained to the jury he mistook his lumbering wife for a bear. Thank you, Phil. Thank you, Phil. Thank you Phil So Phil at the end of that round

you've managed to smuggle three truths past the rest of the panel They are that the panda bear does indeed bleat You were so close Tony with the chuckling of the spectacled bear but no the panda bear apparently does bleat I think I know why Tony made that mistake because there really is a spectacled bear, but no, the panda bear apparently does bleat. In a kind of...

I think I know why Tony made that mistake, because there really is a spectacled bear of South America, and there was a documentary made about them by Stephen Fry, so you may associate the bear with... LAUGHTER The second truth, Henry III did impose a muzzle tax on Londoners... I knew it! ..for the upkeep of a polar bear he was keeping in the Tower of London.

And the third one was that a Canadian man was acquitted of murder when he explained to the jury that he mistook his lumbering wife for a bear. At the end of that round, Phil, you've scored three points. There's that silly myth

that polar bears don't eat penguins because they can't get the wrappers off. Well, we tested this at Edinburgh Zoo and it's not true. The polar bear gobbled it down in one go, wrapping an awl. Something else we learnt was that it's much easier to gift wrap an emperor penguin if you sellotape its wings down first. However, I'd like to assure listeners

that no penguin suffered in the making of this programme. It didn't feel a thing. OK, we now turn to Alan Davis. Your subject, Alan, is beards, the hair that typically grows on the chin, cheeks and neck of post-pubescent human males. Fingers on buzzers, everyone else. Off you go, Alan.

Beards. Simon. That clearly is true. I think you need a verb for anything to have actually been stated. He seemed to pause as if to suggest. I think, to be fair, I won't deduct your point for that. Hillary Clinton will be forced to wear a beard at a Democratic Party fundraiser

should she become the first female president of the United States. Traditionally, an incoming Democratic president poses as an untrustworthy Republican by wearing a false beard before removing it to chance of trust, trust, trust from the assembled Democrats. This is because, due to their misguided notion of virility being associated with facial hair, only Republican presidents have ever had beards. Tony.

I know I haven't got anything right all evening, but I think that this is in fact true. Yes, it is absolutely true. I think that this is in fact true. Yes, it is absolutely true. Only every US president with a beard has been a Republican. The notion of machismo being connected to facial hair led the Confederate Army in the American Civil War to reject those unable to grow a beard. The US Army prefers macho, hairy food, particularly beef, to feed its troops, and forbade the use of chickens until as recently as 1990. This is where the phrases to beef up and to chicken out originate. The Thanksgiving turkey... Deviation.

Surely he's supposed to be talking about beards. He is, but it was tangentially related to the beard, wasn't it? But actually, as deviation is allowed, that's an interesting point you make. Thank you. But not a point you score. OK. But the Thanksgiving turkey was an exception.

Poultry farmers tried to breed chickens with beards to sell to the army, as it became widely believed that they accepted turkeys because only turkeys have beards. Women have worn beards to try and join the army. Phil? I think that's true. Well, not as far as we know. Well, my mother will be crushed. She's currently serving in Afghanistan.

With the Mujahideen. I swear I was going with that. Alan. For years, many women wore false beards in an effort to become geography teachers. Cleopatra, who suffered from anorexia nervosa, wore a false beard to prevent her maids from force-feeding

her. It has been widely believed that beards reflected cowardice. Alexander the Great believed bearded men to be afraid to shave. I think that's right. Phil, I think Alexander the Great shunned the beard in men. That's absolutely right. He did. But although...

APPLAUSE I'll give you the point for that, although the reason is slightly different. He hated beards and banned them in his army under the pretext that they were easy for the enemy to grab hold of. LAUGHTER If a man left his beard growth unchecked for the whole of his lifetime, it would never reach the floor.

Simon. That, I think, is true, because it's more sort of curly and outward. It's pubic-y, isn't it? Its own gravity wouldn't take it down. It would tend to curl upwards, I think, and become matted. Pubic-y? Puboid, whatever the... It's sort of, you'd think it would kind of curl up in front of the face.

Yeah, some afro style. In a huge afro... Unless you applied a heavy set of straightening tongs of some sort, which you probably get from Argos for it, but I think naturally it would just tend to go skyward. Unfortunately, as far as we know, and I suppose, you know, it is... You don't know. The fairly thin research that's been done here

is denying me a potential point. No, I don't know why I'm weakening it as far as we know. The beard will grow down to the ground. It will not curl up in a weird matted afro in front of the face. It goes straight down to the floor because gravity acts in the same way on hair as on everything else. So I'm sorry, that's not

true. Alan. With a possible maximum beard length of 30 feet in a lifetime, many of the most fanatical beard growers on the... Simon. Sorry, I think that will be true then. 30 feet in whatever direction which will lead to the side. Yes, 30 feet downwards with gravity.

So I suppose, strictly speaking, if you are a 30-and-a-half-foot man, then your previous guess was correct. That matter is now in the hands of my lawyers. Yes, that is true. We can potentially grow only 30 feet, apparently, of beard hair in our lifetime. That's sad, sad thought. Anyway, Alan. Many of the most fanatical beard growers on the subcontinent attempt to coax

their beards into towers of hair known as hair towers. Thank you, Alan. So, Alan, at the end of that round, you managed to smuggle two truths past the panel, and they are that turkeys have beards.

The male turkey grows a cluster of long, hair-like feathers from the centre of its chest. This cluster is known as the turkey's beard. Shut up. I can't shut up. I'm contractually obliged to carry on. And Cleopatra wore a false beard. So, at the end of that round, Alan, you've scored two points. Bravo! According to the British Board of Beard Classification,

there are four basic types of beard. The full, the goatee, the chin strap, and the Countess of Wessex. Right, it's now the turn of Simon Evans. Your subject, Simon, is Queen Victoria, Britain's longest-serving monarch from 1837 until her death in 1901. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. Off you go, Simon. Victoria was born two months premature in 1818 in a whorehouse in Vienna, which her parents were visiting as part of a social outreach programme conceived to rebuild continental links after the Napoleonic Wars.

At the time of her birth, she was only fifth in line to the throne, but a series of unfortunate accidents in which various members of her immediate family were killed, either by falling church masonry or decapitated by sheet glass, often watched by large black dogs. Member?

Alan. She was born two months premature. Which you then neatly balanced by buzzing two months late. Yes, unfortunately, I don't know whether I'd have allowed it anyway, because it was so late. It's like you've listened to the first nine things and

picked the most plausible. I just lost interest after a while. But no, she wasn't. Oh. Simon. While contrary to popular myth, Victoria did in fact regularly complain, we are not amused,

especially during impromptu shows featuring Prince Albert and his pork marionette. It is almost certain that she never uttered the oft-attributed words, are you having a laugh? She was described by Prime Minister Benjamin Israeli as an immensely regal personality. Indeed, when she first encountered the expression born with a silver spoon in her mouth, used of a courtesan,

she understood it to mean that the woman was of a relatively lowly station in life, since she herself only ate her boiled eggs with a golden spoon out of a golden egg cup. Phil? Yeah, they're royal. They've got all sorts of gear. They don't shop in Woolworths. They've got gold stuff coming out of the wazoo. Yep, she ate boiled eggs with a golden spoon out of a golden egg cup. That's quite right. boiled eggs with a golden spoon out of a golden egg cup. That's quite right.

Only recently we've learnt of Victoria's wild aside, far removed from the austere matron we see from her many Mario Testino photo shoots. According to state papers released in 2005, the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Palmerston spent nine hours closeted with the Queen, eventually persuading her not to have a body piercing in response to Prince Albert. Furthermore, she took cocaine for attacks of melancholy

and regularly... I think Tony was first there. She definitely took cocaine for some ailment in her life. I remember this. I remember learning this. No, she didn't. No amount of, I remember learning this. That could be a very shabby technique. Oh, no, I remember this.

So don't mess me around. This is from the remembering part of my brain, not the guessing part of my brain. Sorry, no, I'm afraid that's not true. I think it is. Well, you keep your own score. Brilliant. It's going to be better than the score I'm getting, isn't it?

And regularly eased the discomfort of her menstrual cramps by having her doctor supply her with marijuana. Phil. Yeah, go on. Yeah, that's right. I'm surprised she wasn't a lot more amused then. Oh, on the rag, what a laugh. Victoria was a much misunderstood woman.

Despite being born in England until the age of three, she spoke only German, which caused a great deal of confusion, as everyone else in the court at that time spoke Welsh. Prince Albert was, of course, not only the great love of Queen Victoria's life, but also in the tradition... Tony. Well, Prince Albert was the great love of Victoria's life. That's absolutely true, and in fact, well, you're in the middle of a truth,

which Simon can now finish, so you will get a point. In the tradition of the crowned heads of Europe, one of her closest male relatives being her first cousin. Indeed, the seeds of their affair is thought to have begun during a sequence of sleepovers initially intended only to give each respective set of parents a decent night's sleep once in a while, rather than establish a pan-European dynasty

that would swiftly come to anchor the greatest empire the world has ever seen. Thank you, Simon. Alan, are you buzzing to say that I do thank Simon? I think she spoke German to the age of three. Am I too late? I think you are too late, but yes, that was one of the truths that Simon smuggled past.

And the other of the two truths that Simon smuggled past the panel is that at the time of her birth, she was only fifth in line to the throne. That means, Simon, at the end of that round, you've scored two points. Thank you. OK, it's now the turn of Tony Hawks. Tony shot to literary fame with his bestseller, A Round Island With A Fridge,

which he followed up with Round A&E With A Hernia. Your subject, Tony, is tennis, a game played between two players or between two teams of two players in which each player uses a strung racket to strike a hollow rubber ball covered with felt over a net into the opponent's court. Off you go, Tony.

I hate tennis, and despite never having played it in my life, I was runner-up three years running in the British Actors' Equity Tennis Tournament. Alan. Yeah, I bet you were runner-up three years running in the Equity Tennis Tournament. Alan. Yeah, I bet you were a runner-up for years. In the Equity Tennis Tournament. No, I think he won.

You're right, Phil, he won it. He won everything. You're too modest to say yourself. I thought it might come up and it would look better this way. I always thought when you won it, you ought to get a decent part or something like that in some TV show, but you never did. You just got a useless little mug.

I don't think that would be a good system of casting, where you play tennis for a role. You live in far too reasonable a manner. I think I do as well. Come on, he's won the tennis tournament. Give the chap a bloody role. He won't learn any lines. He won the tennis.

Just tell the audience how good at tennis he is and they won't mind his performance at all. Oh, look, it's the one who won the tennis tournament. Oh, good, I'm glad he's on. He's very, very good at tennis. To be or not to let. Right, moving on. Lawn tennis was first marketed as a game called Spheristicae

and patented by a bloke called Major Walton Clopton Wingfield in 1874. Simon. That's a real name. What, Major Walton Clopton Wingfield? Yeah, it's that one. Not very funny if it's a real name. What, Major Walton Clopton Wingfield? Yeah, it's that one. Not very funny if it's not real. Now a very underhanded technique. If that's not true, it's not funny enough.

Well, fortunately for everyone involved with the programme, that's true. He's a true bloke and... APPLAUSE I take that as a compliment. Yeah, and that was where lawn tennis began, apparently. First marketed, anyway. I think it was probably invented before then. Right.

The first recorded instance of a court official was in 1906, when Sir William Umpire perched beside the court at Wimbledon Tennis Club and officiated in the role to which he gave his name. Interestingly, he officiated whilst perched on the shoulders of Captain Percival Highchair. Obviously, those names are funny enough for some. In an attempt to get in the Guinness Book of Records, tennis was once played on quicksand by Ali Alhaq and Abdul Fenn Uhawab.

Alan. Do you think those names are funny? Do you think that's real? I think it's real. I think it's real, yeah. But slightly racist somehow. I can't really put my finger on it. It's not real.

No? And no. Why is there no quicksand on the telly anymore? Because there used to be a lot when I was growing up. Yeah. There was a lot of quicksand. Especially in Tarzan, there was quicksand almost every week. And nowadays, there's almost never any quicksand.

You know where I'd like quicksand? Albert Square for a kick-off. Channel 5 News are bringing it in next week. Kaplinsky's going to go under. Tarzan would come in and save her. I'd watch that. You'd all watch that. I'd settle for that sort of bog that sucks you under as well. I think that does just as good a job.

The ones in the airplanes, you mean? The Grimpen bog. You don't sit up when you flush. Is that an urban myth that someone had their insides sucked out by one of those? It's not urban, is it? Airborne myth. Airborne myth. There's absolutely no need for me carrying on my talk.

Tony, carry on. Oh, OK. Tim Henman has won Wimbledon nine times. Stuffing Pete Sampras on every occasion he played him. Tim Henman is an anagram of manly knit. Maria Sharapova is an anagram of grunting bitch. Greg Ruzetski of rugged kisser. Simon.

It's possibly phonetic, but I think the Tim Henman anagram stands up, doesn't it? No. The Greg Ruzetski one, I think you've got a chance. Work it out. How much time have they got? Does that count as a true fact if you do an anagram of a name? Does that count as a fact? Is that one of his facts?

Is that one? Alec. Greg Rosetzky is a thing there. Yes, Greg Rosetzky is an anagram of rugged kiffing. Yes! You're quite right there. I like to think I was the John the Baptist to your correct challenge there with my Tim Henman.

I set it up and gave you enough time to work it out, really, and I think I should be given 10% at that point. You were the John... John, are you suggesting... You're answering for a bit of my point. Are you very competitive? It's not a very John the Baptist-y attitude to take. I don't think he asked for 10% of being crucified.

The game of tennis has millions of unexpected health benefits. Sitting on a tennis ball for eight consecutive hours is said to be a cure for haemorrhoids. Sewing a tennis ball in the back of your pyjamas... Yes, snoring. Alan, if you could just let Tony say it.

Sewing a tennis ball in the back of your pyjamas is reckoned to be a cure for snoring. Alan. True. Yes. Because it makes you roll over. Yeah, presumably because it stops you lying on your back. Yeah. Because it makes you roll over. Yeah, presumably because it stops you lying on your back. Yeah. The Austrians have had a tradition of entering Wimbledon

despite war injuries. In 1922, Fritz Vogel played with shrapnel clearly visible in his head. An Austrian, Hans Riedel, played at Wimbledon for nine years in a row despite losing an arm in World War II. Phil. Yes, one-armed tennis player.

I'm sure there was a one-armed tennis player. How would he serve? Well, you're absolutely right. There was, and it was him, and he served by tossing the ball up in the air with his racket. Yes. Instead of going... That's basically cheating.

That's lost on people listening at home, I realise. But what I've done is basically mined what I explained. People listening on Freeview, press red button now. The old steel rackets were actually made of aluminium, not steel. And the cat gut used for strings is actually sheep's gut.

Simon. That's true. Yes, it is true. The gut. That's absolutely true. But that's the end of Tony's lecture. And so, Tony, at the end of that round, you've managed to smuggle no truths past the rest of the panel.

And yes, you've scored, therefore, naught! In 1985, Boris Becker became the first player to win Wimbledon when unseeded. In the year 2000, Becker was again unseeded, this time in a broom cupboard by a Russian model.

Which brings us to the final scores. In fourth place, with minus six points, it's Tony Hawks. In third place, with a very creditable nought, it's Alan Davis. But the joint winners in first equal place are Phil and Simon with four points each. That's about it for this week. All that remains is for me to thank our guests.

They were all truly unbelievable, and that's the Unbelievable Truth. Goodbye. The Unbelievable Truth. Goodbye.