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Dum Tee Dum Episode 39 – Christmas Best of show

Some of the best bits

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Duration:: 1h 50m
Broadcast on:: 30 Dec 2014
Audio Format:: other

Hey, it's Mark Marin from WTF here to let you know that this podcast is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. And I'm sure the reason you're listening to this podcast right now is because you chose it. Well, choose Progressive's name, your price tool, and you could find insurance options that fit your budget so you can pick the best one for your situation. Who doesn't like choice? Try it at Progressive.com and now some legal info, Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates, price and coverage match, limited by state law, not available in all states. Ah, not quite. What's up? Ah, sell my car and carvana. It's just not quite the right time. Crazy coincidence. I just sold my car to carvana. What? I told you about it two days ago. When you know, you know. You know? I'm even dropping it off at one of those sweet car vending machines and getting paid today. That's a good deal. Oh, great deal. Come on. What's your heart saying? You're right. When you know? Whether you're looking to sell your car right now or just whenever feels right, go to carvana.com and sell your car the convenient way. Terms and conditions apply. This podcast is a Royfield Brown production. Find others on iTunes. Alright. Yeah. I know. This is the story of how one small island conquered the world. Jamaican potluck. It's a story of music, sport and style, how its rhythms, athletes and language went global. This is how Jamaica conquered the world. Now available on iTunes, how Jamaica conquered the world, the podcast for people who didn't know it had. Okay, now Fallon is taking on Linda Snell's mantle. Should Fallon not be out on the pool rather than messing about distressing trestle tables for the W.I.? Listen, anything that gets her away from that terrible PC carpet burns, I can't really agree with. Oh, such a let. A little bit of me wants to see her back with Ed. A little bit of you does not. I know. You all know which bit. Crusty and the Sausage King looked around their new home, or their pile of loose chippings as it is at the moment, and Crusty bought new undies from undie woods and of course showed them to a casual acquaintance in the middle of Felpisham House Street as you would. She also bought what she referred to as a going away outfit, a term I haven't heard for years. If I was her, I'd be buying a go away outfit to put the Sausage King off beneath to her own. This wedding just seems absolutely doomed to me. It's going to be Crusty and her undercrackers on her own, gloomily eating 400 sausage rolls in Caffeta Hall. Dan Dan the army man, took Saint Schuller out for lunch at the ball to apologise for joining the army and not sue grab it and run solicitors of borsenship, he ordered a pint of lager and this happened. So what do you think about mum then Schuller? I mean you have heard, haven't you? What's this? Oh, your grandson's moving into Brookfield. I had a pint of lager. Oh, she's already at Brookfield. Permanently. Oh. It's probably a good thing. You're on your way to a foreign land. Now's the time to do what you can you in the army now. What the hell was that? Is it mice in the pumps or has Kenton now got a hydraulic arm and no one's mentioned it? Schuller wants Dan to get a degree before he joins the army, travels the world, meets interesting people and kills them. Dan Dan the army man was treated as though he was a 4 year old wearing a Spider-Man t-shirt when he went to the ball. Oh, are they your new boots, don't you look smart? Yes, there's little Daniel, his mummy pulls his trousers up. Kenton and Jolene's weird old sub-dom relationship rumbles on, but Jolene can keep a stop on for weeks. She's like a tantric solker. Callum the new barman is still winding Kenton up but she seems to have forgiven him for not unblocking the drains and I'm really really hoping that's not a euphemism. Easter was all around us. An ass appeared in church and she bought a donkey with her. Hoko the donkey appeared as part of Schuller's bid to be seen as the Francis of Assisi of Ambridge which isn't entirely successful as there have been a fatality in tune near Mrs. So far, nice going shoe. And then the Jazz of the Jesus campaign died on its ass and instead we have, we have Quiz on the cross. Call me old fashioned but I find something a little icky about ogling Jesus and I'm fairly sure, though my scripture knowledge is shaky, that our lord and savior did not wear a leather hot pants and dusting of santra pay. Err shrill jill, back at ruckus again. Josh and Ben are delighted. Ohhh. Josh and Ben are delighted because they're fed up with being given frozen pizza and whatever Ruth can scrape out the silage clamp for dinner every day. Elizabeth's being snarky because she's just cotton donned that Ruth now has a cook/house keeper on hand 24/7 whereas she Elizabeth merely has a stately home, a chef, a gardener, chauffeur, an office full of staff and er, Lewis. She's helpless, abandoned and practically on the bread line. When's the last time we heard from Lewis? Well, he's another one of the disappeared, isn't he? He's probably off on Antique's Roadshow. Maybe that's what he's doing. They're touring at the moment, aren't they? Hmm. I don't know. Erm. Titchinob. Slowly morphing into Gollum. Sliming about with Helene as my precious. God knows what they're from. Can I just jump? Can I just jump? Yes. Yes. I don't like that. Oh good. No. No. And I really tried to go with him and yes, I understand that the whole point of Rob is to be an antagonist and the writers as we said last week had written him brilliantly in this very slow but deliberate descent from knight and shining armour into just sexist man. Yeah. But when he came out of his line last week about, oh, you know, they've got a woman to be the, you know, the chairman of the board, that was the last draw for me. But what I don't quite understand, Rob is a sexist caveman. Yeah. Yeah. But he's not homophobic. And you would actually think that those two things are generally, not always, generally kind of concurrent. Yeah. But you're missing out the public school factor, though, aren't you? Public school blokes are much, much more comfortable with other men. They just regard women as another species that's just nothing to do with them entirely unrelated, not part of the human race. So he'd actually feel more at home, I think, with Adam and Ian, than he would with a group of women. No, you see, that's the difference between you and I, because you're akin with this kind of public school world, you know, build it. Am I ill? No, I'm not. I went to a comp and I don't know these... I went to a comp. Yeah, but... I didn't go to a comp. I did. That's a picture. Primary. No. There isn't a bussage of primary. What I want to know is what the hell they've done with Horrible Henry. I think he's tied up in the cellar, or he's run away with Rory, the child he'll never be able to spell his own name. Do you know, there are kids in Sudanese orphanages who donate money through comic relief and children of Angridge, I'm sorry. Um, business news now, we need the bongy business news music. Oh, oh, Brian. Stin the head of Demara Capital, who sounded quite sexy and masterful until he said moving forward, thus rendering him a book for all eternity, said that Brian had failed to follow through. He won't have any problems following through when he has to tell Jennifer she isn't getting a kitchen. Um, and this was a great episode, I love this, cutting between the disposal of the squirrel and the trap by William Grundy with Chris. It was all Quentin Tarantino, wasn't it? It was, it was great. And Brian's disposal from the BL board. At one point now, William explained to Chris that squirrels take young birds, which I thought may be pushed the Brian metaphor a bit too far. And that's it, Brian's out, Chris is on the quass and Jill's back at Brookfield, what a week. Everybody, jump, jump. Now we're going to go over to your calls. Hello, Ambridge 3962, it's Missy Lyons here. I haven't phoned in for a long, long time for, well, it's none of your business. Why really? None of your damn business, but I feel moved, moved, I say, to phone in today. I have several things that I've wished to talk about. The first thing is Fallon, I mean, what's going on with Jolene? Why on earth is she pimping her daughter off to PC carpet burns? And frankly, that character would be more believable if he was, say, solving some crimes rather than lurking around every shadow to pounce on Fallon, and who's just become this giggly little school girl, I mean, honestly, so unbelievable. Well, after being shaken to our collective cause last week, things settled down a little. Brian Aldridge has hurt me. That didn't win. We did. I'm not sure I could go. You just needed sort of audio, honey and lemon really to just stare at a wall for a bit. Brian Aldridge has hurt his leg. Jenny Darling showed a huge lack of sympathy for Brian as he stumped around like Douglas Bader with his foot in a fondue set, moaning that he was in pain and hungry. "All you'll think about is your stomach, Brian," she said. Brian's attention used to be focused solely on an area about six inches below that which caused much greater problems, one of which is currently disporting himself at prep school where he's making great progress at learning how to spell his own name. Tom embarked on a new diet regime. Eat pizza, don't leave the house and don't wash up for a week, and everyone says you've lost weight. I've been doing that for bloody years and it's not worked. Anyway, after a brief suicide scare, Tom's gone off to God knows where to find himself, hopefully exchange email addresses and come back as someone interesting. He's sitting on a beach in Cosimoi building mini pig arcs in the sand and holding forth about Chippalartas. Of course, he might come back as a blonde, pre-op transexual called Elaine. Who knows? Charlie Barber's spreadsheet had a contra-toll outside the shop with Pat and Asta if she was coming or going. Pat never seems to know entirely whether she's coming or going but was very happy to be outraged. "He's a nasty bit of work that bloke, eh?" "He's not nice, he's really awesome." Charlie and Adam seem to have entirely dispensed with the niceties of boss and employee, which is odd, bearing in mind that they've only known each other for a fortnight, and they snarl and snap at each other like a couple of beaten sheepdogs every time they meet. "Roll on harvest," they have an argument about rain storage and end up wrestling naked in front of a fire. "And Adam's basically the diplomatic one as well, and he's just lost it within super fast time, but anyway, don't crack on Lucy, crack on." Then the great takedown. It wasn't the rumble in the jungle or the thriller in Manila, it was the stop in the shop. And Jenny Darling offered Susan her old units, which had a lot of life in them, which suggests woodworm. Shula took Danakin on one of her exciting days out, and he got to stand by an ironing board in Underwood's. "Ooh, it's like Cirque du Soleil," said Danakin, revealing himself to be the kind of cosmopolitan boulevardier that is surely officer material. Shula's disconcerting attempts to seduce her own son continued a pace when she took glamour shots of him in the changing room in a suit. Jenny Darling's anxiety clacks and went off straight away, so she leapt in the private jet and arrived at the change room just in time to remind Shula that she was a widow and that Danakin Skywalker could be killed at any minute. The Carter women were asked to come up with an idea for Clary love's party. Eddie was concerned that it might not beat last years, as last years involved three tons of sand being dumped in the front garden. Joanna Bikini and Keira dressed as a hermit crab, the bar wasn't set mad at the pie. So they've settled for a 70s theme with Peggy in a ginormous afro. And we just got talent round two. Wait a minute, I obviously missed that show, when did Peggy say she's going to wear a ginormous, an afro ginormous or not? This is what's in my head, it had the little resemblance to what's actually happened. Ambridges got talent round two, continued with Susan's rendition of Donny Osmond's puppy love. It was spirited and certainly slightly more relevant than Kenton's Rocket Man. Next week Tony gives us his songs from the Z felt follies. And we have a cause on our hands, they're bypassing the bypass. And the bypass bypass campaign will be taken up by Linter and Fallot who will bore us rigid for months making posters. Fallot might even distress another table if we're lucky. In an occasional series entitled words you never want to hear, this week we had, Tom will be all right, he's got Roy keeping an eye on him. Half of that later, Tom had entirely disappeared. This was followed by the massively ill advised, can you talk to him Tony? Tony went straight for the jugular once again, a spool of righteous anger as only a man whose only had soup to eat for the last 15 years can be, spoke to Tom to cheer him up in the way that you cheer someone up with a mouthful so by stamping on their foot. Tony seems to be permanently on the point of cardiac arrest, he's breathing heavily, quivery voice, if he is, then his mission seems to be to make everyone in the village want to kill him before his own arteries finish him off. The rest of the village looms carried on as normal, psychotic Georgie attempted to carot happy with a maple, and golem Titchinov tried to persuade Helen that she was better off without crusty. I never leave you standing at the altar my precious, he kissed, knocked up in a fridge freezer, yes. Horrid Henry has started at nursery, a nursery that seems to have spontaneously popped up overnight as nurseries tend to do, they're like circuses. I sometimes feel I wouldn't be surprised at all if someone on the archer suddenly said, oh I must pop down to the hydroelectric power plot, anyway, he's done a week. In the borture academy for the criminally insane under threes, and he hasn't murdered anyone, burnt it down or given anyone ringworm, but I think he's biting his time. Falkhorn is installed, back at Ruckus, where she spent the week practising for the bake-off. Calling my children, Falkhorn. Have you not noticed the hooting? The continual hooting. Oh, I love a chill. The woman cocks in her sleep and considers any moment ill spent that doesn't involve forcing our Viennese worlds into peoples' faces, so God alone knows what she's practising. So that was the week in Ambridge, now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to Tom Archer's weight loss and exercise DVD, Jilt Them and Jog On. I need to practise the bit where you eat raw sausages and cry while repeat texting your fiancé as she sits in a bungalow in Costa Rica with a lady boy called Rachel in a purple wedding dress. The end. I like that, I did. This episode of Dum D-Dum is sponsored by easy fry oven chips for those days when cows are more important. Oh no, I left the oven on, hello, Ambridge 3962. Hi everyone, so this is Tanya Best, calling in from Brooklyn, New York. I'm going to miss Kirsty, her voice was incredibly throaty, this is true, and she was kind of weirdly just environmental whenever it was useful to the plot, which was weird, but she was great for keeping the titchinob skepticism alive, and I always felt like she was kind of the voice of reason, which I know isn't saying much when it comes to the Archer clan or at least this particular branch, but I really loved that she just did not acknowledge Tom's need to be heard even in letter form, and of course, I am completely relieved that there will be no chats with Warbly Pat at all. So I will miss Kirsty very much, but cleansing fires for everyone. But before we do that, I want my, I'm going to say, brother from another mother, but you're not my brother, sir. I don't think you should go down this route at all, to be honest. Give us your week in Ambridge then. What then? We opened the week with poor, Harris, Adam, Macy, he just wants some me time in the tractor cab all by himself, eating the lemongrass and coriander macaroons in his packed lunch, staring out the window, picking his nose and thinking about parval, and first he has David shouting, "I want to go, I want to go, my turn on the big tractor," and then Charlie Barber's spreadsheet saying, "What does this lever do, and I'm really good at cricket you know, but I'm not going to play for your silly team." Charlie Barber's spreadsheet then went on to commit the ultimate Ambridge sin of not being interested in the wingle-sicket, which is treated by Ambridge visitors, as like the cross between the Olympic opening ceremony and the Mardi Gras, so that's him off everybody's Christmas card list. And Krusty's back, who are a nation for enjoys this, but it isn't soppy. This is going to be the best day of my life, Krusty. This was kick-ass Krusty, who offered Helen the cold this shoulder since Rannell finds Pella in a nice hole, before Helleth denials not just a river in Egypt, and she has her own idiosyncratic way of dealing with problems, namely by putting her hands over her ears and shouting la, la, la, la. She was startled to discover that unbelievably Krusty, with her now cosmic mistrust of the entire Archer family and the whole of Ambridge, did not want to return to her job in the shop, making rapier leaks, and building stale models of felt chum cathedral out of organic couscous. You're my person, isn't you? I've never known anyone more lacking in empathy, unbelievable. You're my best friend, yelled Helen hysterically, best meaning only, and friend meaning person under 65 who talks to me. Marose the Butcher is back, making sausages for Tom. Marose appears to be played by Ringo Starr. He stepped, a butchery, breachery, and said he was happy to sacrifice an evening of deflade a mouse for de-packing alfden klackwurst. And then, Clarry loves birthday. Eddy tried to get Clarry love drunk at her dinner in an effort to lift the lead and gloom which seems to have encased her. She said she never expected to find herself up to her elbows in yogurt and pork scratchings, but who amongst us cannot say the same? She might have done that in your Pamene's accent. But she's not Pamé's though, is she? Everyone does her as a Pamé's accent. Do you want me to do it again in a Pamé's accent? Please go. OK. I'll do the whole thing. And then, Clarry loves birthday. Eddy tried to get Clarry love drunk at her dinner in an effort to lift the lead and gloom which seems to have encased her. She said I never expected to find myself up to my elbows in yogurt and pork scratchings, but who amongst us cannot say the same? But she perked up for her fancy dress festivities. A nation was started to hear one scene starting with the words, "Keep licking your belly while I do your nails." And for one horrible minute, I thought that was Clarry love's pre-party preparation, but it was actually Eddy grooming Adele the ferret, named after the sick. She kept making funny squeaking noises, and so did the ferret. Gravely, the grundies allowed Kira to hold Poppy in the Grundy family photo, a vet ferret which was indeed a risky move in a family that contains that much simmering hatred. At the party, Joe went as Clint Eastwood, Susan went as sharp, and Derek went as Operation U-Tree. After pausing only to admire Sabrina Fwaiting her suede hot pants, piled curry eggs and tuna salad with an eco-light dressing onto his plate in such a positive gluttonous frenzy by the end of the party it wasn't just Joe at a whiff of the Wild West about him. Jill found something nasty in the greenhouse. It was a baby hedgehog, Pat had squished its mother while careering through the village with a van, Pat to the gunnels with everything except finger carrots as Helen crossly pointed out. And mooring competence came from Raff and Ulrich, who have messed up in the mega-dairy. Raff and Ulrich. Are they not the pair on the posters for the European elections? When are we going back to sensible names like we used to have in the old days, like baggy and snatch and Sami Whipple and oh, yeah, that's it. More silly nomenclature with Roy's staffing announcement that Shelley Brazil is curating the food area at Locksfest. I have no idea what that sentence meant, but Roy sounded very chuffed as chuffed as only an eternally optimistic cretting with an appalling record and event management can. Shelley Brazil is clearly the stage name for a burlesque dancer rather than the chef. I had a minute. Wasn't she the woman who was in borchits alive, wasn't she? Yes. Okay, all right, okay. But the name Shelley Brazil, does that not suggest kind of an entirely different sort of pasty? And you know, just a thumb at twilight. And then we had a moment of such sheer audacious bravado that I nearly stood up and applauded. We spent a good three minutes listening to a couple, picking a shade of white on a paint chart on the radio. I don't know if they were picky, it was more just Jenny's kind of outpouring and Brian just was just there's collateral damage, she's going every now and again. We went through Farad's white, 70s calcified dog poo white, a predict dress white, until Brian completely lost it and smashed Jenny's head into the buttless sink, but I may have knotted off and made that bit up. Patton, Tony, the wandering embolism are gradually imploding as they realise the idiot boy has been buying non-organic pig feed made out of turkey twizzlers and rocket lollies. What a scandal. They drew themselves on the mercy of the organic inspector who threw it right back at them. And Gollum Titchinov did his usual look in the eyes, look in the eyes, not around the eyes with Helen and convinced her that actually it was all a good thing and Helen was not too worried. So that's all right then. Yeah well that total scandal about the organic status isn't it, I didn't see that one come in. Well it's almost as if, because I can remember a while ago Tom sort of having this fairly dubious conversation with Krusty about oh well I might, it wouldn't be such a bad thing if I gave up the organic status and she sort of said oh well yeah of course it would and he went mmm and it was all a bit non-committal and I think he kind of made that decision and just didn't tell anybody. But on that point you know I think you'd hit those phone lines. Okay. Hello Dumpty Dum, it's Jan from Cannes Calling. It was so awesome to hear that Roy Field is going to be in Toronto. I gather this coming weekend maybe for even longer and Roy Field you were right I am a third distance away so it might be a bit difficult for me to get to you. It's 4,300 kilometres from where I live in Vancouver on the west coast and Toronto is a slightly east of the centre of the country but you were right Roy Field, Alberta is one province away and I was born and raised there. Anyway I would love to meet you sometime and the only other way I can think that we might meet is if you wanted to fly from Toronto and have a stopover in Vancouver on your way to San Francisco. Well a person can fantasize anyway. I love the show today it was super good, super fun, awesome and I wish you a safe and happy journey and if I don't call in again before Christmas, Merry Christmas and the very best to both of you. First before we do all that my little box of Turkish delight Lucy tell us about the last week in Ambridge. Shula suddenly remembered she was a farmer's daughter and went to Brookfield and was useful with sheep. All I have to do is stand still and wave my arms. She said helpfully as she has made an entire career out of standing still and waving her arms. She was a natural at it. Idiot boy has officially legged it, packing his favourite pig in his hand luggage but why not talk it through with his family first asked piggy tearfully and why so far away. I think the fact that his entire family is completely crackers answers both those questions. Poor abandoned piggies, they are not organic anymore, no one wants them, they can join forces with lowly cow and run off and join the sass. Linda's astonishing birthday party idea was wait for it, Alice in Wonderland. Of course it was. How old is Linda, for God's sake? Six, she compounded the infantile theme by saying she had to bring the book to the shop because she couldn't bear to leave it behind. I often take my books out for a walk, that's seen all dementia isn't it. If I get to Linda's age and someone is giving me an Alice in Wonderland party rather than a lavish dinner with champagne and rufa-suell in the nip unbooking myself into dignitas. I didn't even know what her birthday was even coming up. No, it was one of those, I think they suddenly plunked it in as a bit of light relief but I thought it was one of the most cringy, twee, middle-class, badly written and it doesn't help that they only snell sounds like that woman off tic-a-billa. It's just like listening to CBB, it's just off and when she said 'shall we see if the door-mouse is here, let's ask Alice, I thought my god we're going through the round window', it was just awful. But if it was really twee in middle-class, that would be right at your street surely. I am not twee. Don't mind. Oh, I'm not. You are really. I'm so horrible to be. Can I carry on now? Yeah, go. Finish insulting me. Thank God. Oh, I'm less of an insult, more of an accurate portrayal of your character and your social position. Ooh, Titchinob continues his campaign to be the son Peggy actually does have but doesn't like. He fessed up to having God-idiot boy the job in Canada, but were Helen and Peggy Cross bitmiffed? Oh, Rob said Helen, that's so kind. There are no lengths Helen will not go to to put Rob in a good light. If he'd announced he chopped Tom's leg off, she'd have said 'Oh Rob, that's so thoughtful, I have so much more room on the plane'. The walking embolism reacted in a calm, reasonable way, we have come to respect from Money Tony. He made a massive fuss about family meeting, then marched around telling everyone they couldn't come to it, so he ended up being three people, all of whom work together. Elizabeth talked to him. To be fair, he told only one person, his mother. He told Helen, so Rob that Rob couldn't come to me, he only told one person. That's ridiculous. He's starting to remind me of the blow-coffer, Dad's army now. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't just rush it around. Just completely overreacting about everything. And saying don't panic and making things ever so much worse all the time. Elizabeth talked to Roy about her fear of camping. 'I'm worried about creepy things in my sleeping bag,' she said, one of which may be Roy if she's really unlucky. I've thought ever since Roy started working at Lower Locks, that... Bit of a current. Yeah, exactly. Exactly. And I just thought, 'Oh, this is so predictable, but hey, they're gone'. Where's Ifti gone? Ifti, you know, Ifti was chaining the cricket club, he was at Lower Locksty all the time. You know, he was coaching. You know what's happened to Ifti? Well, same thing that happened to Darryl's Missy's. You keep got in in both, it's your, didn't they? And they've had the immigrants out. It's what's happened to them, Bae, Ellie and her Ifti. Only. And Ushah. Where's Ushah? I'm just choked on her toes now. I'll tell you where Ushah is, Ushah is on every single Radio 4 afternoon play, that's where Ushah is. Really? Honestly. Yeah. She's got a very nice sideline going in Radio 4 afternoon play. It all got a bit tribal. It is an Asian. It is an Asian. Yes. From Wolverhampton. Yes. No, as normally the mother of a girl who's about to have an arranged marriage because that's apparently all that happens to Indian families on Radio 4 is that the girls have arranged marriages. Yes. What? I didn't say anything. No, okay. It's all going to be tribal. It's all monologue. I wouldn't interrupt your monologue, would I? You've interrupted it continually all the way, bloody through. It all got a bit tribal, like the meeting about the bypass, bypass. The Ambridge crew were very jolly when they thought the road was heading straight through Penny Hasett, but things got a bit shouty when it emerged the road was going straight through Ruth and David's bedroom. They're up in arms. They're up in arms. They're up in arms. Said Shuler excitedly. The villagers are always up in bloody arms, whether the village shops run out of hobnobs or someone's been black-balled from the cider club. And the press is here, said Ruth excitedly. That gawk from the echo. It's hardly that the audience say press pack is it? Even Brian with the nuts was vaguely concerned and he normally reserves his compassion for his own sciatica and his lack of sandwiches. Jenny Darling shot off to Brookfield anxiety clacks and ringing to go and help by updating the website. That website gets updated more often than Adobe Photoshop. More trouble at Bruckers as the sheep have got nicks which they caught from the wet coz world that had to be wrung out and dried on the Brookfield radiator. Charlie Barber's bread sheeting grated himself with William, who like all language employees, flatly refused to do what he was asked despite the fact that Charlie is his boss. Employees in Ambridge have a certain militant tendency, Adam chucks his toys if he's asked to mow all of the field rather than some of it, but that's probably because he spends most of his time peeing in a hedge because of the 40 cups of coffee he's drunk. Back at the kitchen, but there's this undercurrent of the fact that the farmers in Ambridge aren't just farming, they're also custodians and actually conserving the land. So you've got William saying I've only got a certain amount, I'm not going to do the accident, I've only got a certain amount of cartridges in my pear trees and I can't shoot all of them, you know, because then I'll have to grow some more, you know, and that's what I got from that. So, you know, there's me being a city boy talking about growing cartridges in pear trees, but you get my point that there is William, who's, you know, he's he's conserving, you know, he's a proper gamekeeper, it's not about shooting the bloody pheasants all the time, is it? You need some little pheasants. You go on about rural unemployment and all of them just moan continually when they're asked to do their jobs, it's unbelievable. You know, we're just a terrible capitalist and I believe that, you know, we need to be custodians of the planet, so we've actually got something to give to our children. That's the reason why you and I can't really actually get on, Lucy, we're diametrically opposed. Well, we are diametrically opposed to bearing in mind that to coin a Hancock line, you think that the countryside is just a big load of space with no towns in it? If you think the partridges grow, you planted partridges in number one. That's his partridge subsidy gone from, er, back in the kitchen, yes, well, back in the kitchen, the two steves put the rug sink in, a washer failed and the kitchen flooded, how can a washer fail? It's a little metal ring, not a thruster on a rocket launcher. Anyway, buddy did the noble thing and threw himself off the roof. Like that and a whisk our back. In the noble Ambries tradition. So yeah, if in doubt, shut yourself up a roof. Tiger and Pusscat are back in fine form, serving for catcher with a tagine, chucking the gin about, describing the bypass bypass as a mini gold rush, it's a dual carriage way, not for clondike. And then battle of the grands, Linda wove a blanket for baby Snellamy out of llama's eyelashes gathered in the moonlight. Lillian, hurriedly, claimed to have made something for the baby too, probably a jug of sangria and a roll-up. And finally, the most ungracious announcement of an engagement ever. You know that blokey hate, Dad? Well, I'm going to be married to him, so no, no, no, no. She announced it in the manner of someone informing their family that as she had predicted the cesspit has overflowed. She's not very intelligent that hell, is she? Idiot. I don't think she should be allowed without responsible adults. She certainly shouldn't be in charge of a child. She won't be in charge of a child for much longer because Wubble will get his mix on him. With that poignant thought, poignant, pregnant thought, let's say pregnant. I don't think I can cope with her being pregnant as well. It's metaphorically pregnant, not literally and actually pregnant. I'm just trying to be poetic with the English language. Oh, sorry. Unlike you monologue, with your brutalist monologues. I think you're on to something when you mentioned about coded messages in the archers used by MI6 to inform overseas agents when it's time to get the poison unreaders out. Over the years I've noticed such a message used every few weeks and with good timing this week it was trotted out once again. This time, Fallon delivered the line while taking PC harassment burns his order for pizza at the bull. The script writers have slipped up though as the code is easy to break as it is so obviously never used in everyday speech apart from in ambrage. Instead of yes, fine, okay, will do or similar, the positive agreeor chimes out with right you are. Now I admit I don't come from Borsischer but I have been known to stray north of the M25 but never have I heard her right you are apart from coming from the mouths of the free citizens of ambrage. I made the beginners mistake of mentioning to my wife the lovely Jane a few weeks ago that I find right you are so clunky and grating every time it's rolled out with the obvious outcome that now if on the rare occasion I say something that she agrees with I get a right you are in reply. I initially thought it was more phrase used by those who get their fingernails dirty toiling on the land such as Eddie but it seems to have crossed over to the moneyed classes and I've heard Matt and even Brian say the phrase it must surely be a little game by the script writers to see who can lever it in that week but it has the effect of leaving me a gibbering wreck with some sort of Pavlovian response every time I hear it I think it's time for my lie down now loving the podcast and please keep up the good work. Jenny Darling decided the best thing that could be done to cheer her mother up after the death of her husband and her cat was to bring her back to home farm to stare at some granite. Peggy got the wrong end of the stick thought that Jenny Darling was showing her her prototype headstone and went to an even greater decline. Peggy did manage to complete the Francken knitting for the Snellamy baby and handed it to Lillian saying will it fit the bill? No no bills the cat do you remember the cat yes not the dead one the other one. Lillian who if we recall lied to Matt for an entire year about shagging his brother seems to be completely unable to lie convincingly about this flipping baby duffel coat or whatever it is. She is doing a frankly appalling job of talking about this knitting and completely bodied an answer about how she done the pockets. Pockets? What does a baby need pockets for? Oyster card and a lighter? Roy was hoping that Elizabeth the merry widow might let him back under her love canvas but no this time the flax remained firmly if you had locked in an effort to change the subject Elizabeth talked about Freddie instead saying he's on his computer all the time and I don't know what he's doing. Anyway I must go now as I need to go and bash Freddie's boxes with a rolling pin to get them in the machine. Roy was despondent at this rejection but rallied enough to go home and enjoy Hayley's fish pie which had been left simmering on the back burner just in case so to speak. The mission to palm Fallon off on any male under 50 with a pulse increased with a two pronged attack from adenoids and jululeen both going on at her. Adenoidal Alice the astrophysicist wedding planner has moved into dating advice she was at her most infuriating jollying Fallon along who was perfectly happy flopping about in her onesie. Alice is the sort of irritating kid. Yeah just jump in because everybody knows I have a somewhat of a close interest when it comes to Fallon I didn't like any of that at all this week. Number one what she doing in a onesie the type of woman that I picture her and you know I need her to be she does not sit around in a onesie number one. Number two it didn't even sound believable the way that whole thing was written. No I know I know and to me she's supposed to be this you know slightly sapsie a little bit kind of cool character and she just sounded totally socially inept like a mother had to tell her what dating was all about. Yeah I know it was lewd and it's cringy and Fallon is kind of I think we've already got Helen surely representing the sort of the completely inadequate Burkeish damaged approach to sort of dating and sex and everything and Fallon's supposed to be the sort of the feminist and the strong woman and all this she's just behaving like an absolute Burke. And as I say the vision of her in a onesie is almost completely put her off me but her off me up her sorry her off me. Oh god I don't know it's that. Oh no you know what I meant it's not what I said but everybody knows what I meant but I was just like no. I know I know it was it was really depressing because she's such a lovely character and they've you know I think we'd ask Alice who I wouldn't I wouldn't trust Alice to get me to the bottom of the stairs you know it's just god hopeless. Anyway sorry for interrupting something I never normally do but I just felt like I just have to just like chiming at that point. Alice is the sort of irritating Burke who tells you not to be a party pooper when you won't dance the conga in the snow at 3 a.m. As a result P.C. Harrison Burns and Fallon had their first date which was not awkward at all. I hope Jaleen and Adonoids both feel happy when Fallon's shat up with a gun toting a fisher sexist you slowly morphing into Peter Kay. Once again we had a classic archers line. I told you burning that effigy was a bad idea it's not often that burning an effigy is a good idea really. This was David's fault who's gone a bit wicker man. In fact the whole village turned into Royston Vasey for the evening making a guy of Justin Elliot with a mop head and a tweed jacket at the top of the bonfire. This happened on the same evening that Tony became convinced that the new pigs were possessed just to add to his paranoid fantasies. He asked Jazza if he'd work a few more hours but Jazza refused to concern that it was impinged on his social life. I thought the pigs were Jazza's social life but apparently not. Ruth too seems to be going over to the dark side. Charlie Barber's spreadsheet had mentioned the compensation and this had struck a chord with Ruth who realised it with some hard cash she might be able to feed her children something other than turkey feet and chips. Next week we fully expect her to have flogged off Lakey Hill and be negotiating building a paddy power on it. And it's getting weirder at the stables with the horses getting the strangles. This is a contagious disease caught by going out for lunch with Charles Sachi. Charlie Barber's spreadsheet got his pants on Jill's honeypot. Which was an unlikely development to say the least. Is that where we're going next week? An unlikely affair between Jill and the man of tweed. We've been in the tent of Love. Nothing would surprise us now. Oh I like that. That was quite, that was quite sweet. Do you like to see happen to Kate and Lucas? Obviously probably move back to Ambridge so that you'd have a lot more work but you'd try to restore your lines to things. I would love um um um Kate and Lucas to be back in, back in Ambridge but um I think there's a lot, there's a lot about Kate and Lucas that hasn't been explored. I mean you know. Well for a start off you know how the hell can you put up with that? That has not been explored. Or are we going on to one of our listener tweets there Lucy? Many of our listeners' tweets involve the phrase how the hell do you put up with her but anyway. Yeah it's um. I think you need to answer this as Lucas. Ah. Lucas is too nice. That's no good because Lucas is just like oh she's lovely. She's like no she's not. Yeah the thing is that Kate is uh she's challenging. There's no, there's no denying that but uh you know deep down deep deep deep down. Very deep. Inside somewhere. It's no she's she's a nice person really at heart I think and it just needs, she just needs to have the years of marriage. You think she's a nice person deep down deep deep down. I'm still the one who can change it. But first before all that you who will never be in the diplomatic courts, Freeman, please do tell us about the last week in Ambridge. We started the week with a death. Poor old Ben Piggy's ancient cat shuffled off his mortal coil. I was genuinely sad and I can't make jokes about it. I am English, I can listen to a father of two fall off a roof without a quam or a safety net but a 13 year old cat gets put down and I'm in bits. You could hear? No no no I know. We've got an email from somebody saying. Roy Phil can you please stop interviewing Lucy's lustrous monologues. Is that me? However, however was that you? No because it wasn't me you've been out on that. But how mean were you last week about four piggy talking to the cats and I said this one is 92 she has nobody to communicate with etc etc and then look what happens this week. No the cat said I killed the cat basically that's what you're saying isn't it? You got absolutely no empathy and then this week you turn round and say oh I'm English I can relate. You couldn't relate last week could you? You couldn't relate to a 92 year old woman who was lonely, who was fumbling in the checkout aisle, only had a cat to talk to who feels like a family is falling apart but all of a sudden because a monkey is dead you can show some kind of compassion. Go on with your monologue. Look can I just say that last week I should have just wrapped myself up, lock the door and not spoke to any body because I only am open mouse being made monologue. Anyway you could hear Bill purring his selfish head off delighted that he'd got the woolly lap and millions to himself as well as more airtime that cat's got a hell of an agent I'm telling you. Adam said he had Charlie sitting on his shoulder and Brian had his home farm hat on. What kind of a lunatic emperor enterprise are they running? No wonder Charlie's worried about the fact that his farm is being remote controlled from Hungary. Demara Capital's latest wheeze is two more anaerobic digestors for the village. At this rate and bridge is just going to be a massive pile of poo with a road going through it. And talking of a massive pile of poo we celebrated two birthdays Ruth and Fallon. Only Ruth could greet her family, a cooked breakfast, a lion and presence with the words "I was just thinking about me cancer diagnosis" and Fallon got given a jewelry by P.C. Harris McCarpett Burns. He said he'd noticed she liked chunky brace slips. He didn't mention the fact that there were two of them, they were linked together by a small chain and he had the key. Once again the archers seemed to be having a slight crisis about which decade or even century it was set in. One of the producers that clearly found a sound of the 90's CD behind a filing cabinet and we had Pulp on the way to the festival, Blur playing on the way to the boardchester show, and then Charlie Barb was spreadsheets, apparently wearing well cut tweeds. Who is he? Gussie Fink Nothle? Buddy the Builder? Gussie Fink Nothle from P.G. Woodhouse? Oh, I'm not one of you. You guys treat one of your literary notes there that is lost on the rest of us. Sorry. It's lost on you. Buddy the Builder, who is fast becoming one of my favourite characters, took plumbers with painkillers, which I presume is street slang, and spangled with the hanging of shelves in the home farm kitchen. Brian still cannot remember the way to the ball despite spending most of his life in there before the kitchen started being rebuilt, and became so hungry he was reduced to licking melted chocolate from the bottom of Matt's golf bag. Shula went up to Santa's to never want to miss an opportunity to ogle her son in his uniform, Naughty introduced her to big ears and showed her pictures of himself being shot at. Tae only put on a funny voice to pretend to be the steward at the Shearing Show when Jazza beat Ed. The bet for the winner was buying a burger dinner. Jazza said he was looking forward to tasting the bun of success, but I think Roy may have beaten him to it there. Which leads us on with the grim inevitability of Greek tragedy as Jeeves would say to the festival. Elizabeth said she wanted to pack for every eventuality, but she kept quiet about the fruit pastel condoms and the ky. Going on to say that she wasn't good if she didn't get a good seven hours. This is Roy we're talking about. Roy took Kayleigh's injunction to make sure Elizabeth had a good time, slightly too far. Slipped her one of Buddy's plumbers painkillers and she opened her tent flaps with a hat. She then woke up and started vomiting, which is exactly as one would expect after a night out with Roy of the racists. He trotted out all the usual codswallop about it feeling like the right thing to do and then she said it's not you. It's me and let's just forget about it and by the way I'm your boss and everything will go back to normal. Which means we're all going to have to stand by for stock-covered shenanigans and oral in the orangery. Oh my god. Are you done? I've finished. Bloody Laura had this as x-rated this week. Well, so was the show. Goodness sake. All that heavy breathing. Well, no. That left a certain amount to our imagination, but you had it on the knuckle there woman. Well, that kind of wound. What can I say? Wowza. Right then. On that kind of filthy end to a rather tight one I love this week, as Lucy's been doing a pelvic floor muscles exercises, let's go through to your calls. Hi, my name's Sharon and I've been shooting to the arches for about 30 years. I first started listening about 13, trying to find a radio station that will pay something else and stand out by late. I came across this talk radio, which we didn't really have in our house. It struck me that it was like TV without pictures. And it was good enough that I made a note of where it was and went back for a week. And although the TV didn't have anything in common with my day to day life, they sit in action in West London. I have to say I was probably the only kid that knew it was lambing season. Well, I've still been listening. I've been listening for 30 years and it's as good as it ever was, despite all the rumours and suspicions of its demise and coming down and still is good. Thanks. This, I love this. This is such a bit Sharon Evans saying I was the only kid in action that knew it was lambing season. Because she listened to the arches. I thought that is such a long lovely description of what the arches means to a lot of people. It's a way of keeping in touch with, with, with our heritage, really. That sounds very portentous and ridiculous, but there we go. Tony is a manager. No, he's not. Neil is a manager. Susan is beside herself with excitement. The fact that he's managing a field of possessed pigs doesn't seem to bother her. She's getting him some new management overalls, two-piece, with a pocket for biros and double cuffs and some really, really pointy, shiny, wellies. Jenny donnings back from her holes with Phagash. I really needed that, said Jenny. And she so does, to be fair. She's been really busy, with, she's been really, really busy doing the, she's been, well, she's been updating the website. Yes. And anyway, she is back in the helm of the home farm kitchen and Brian's first home cook in the house. She did write that letter to the Book of Churico. That would have taken a lot of energy. She's updated the website twice and she's written a letter. Yes. Anyway, she is back in the helm of the home farm kitchen. And Brian's first home cook dinner involved a warm three-beam salad. That should get his pikes back in working order. But I suppose he can always play in the anaerobic digester. Jenny Darling, not content with holding various open kitchens and inviting everyone to, from David Cameron to Stephen Hawking to inspect her cornices, has even taken to crashing wakes in order to get more people in. It's all right. I slept with the corpse once. So of course they weren't badly getting involved. She said winning thing. Ian was looking forward to a night in and a Chinese takeaway with Adam. Ian did the ordering. You know what I like. Adam said. So that could bring in Ian's prawn balls until Adam was hijacked by Charlie Barber's spreadsheet and ended up showing him the new ringtones he'd put on the combine. This meant Adam spent the rest of the evening boggling about in the hot tub like a little bean sprout, whinging about Charlie, while Ian resisted the impulse to kick him right in the dim sum. Ruth got very excited about the robot milkers. "Humans are going to be redundant," said David anxiously as Ruth commented enthusiastically on how quickly and easily the robot milker found the teats. "Ball worshiping, Tony's new pastime, continues a pace. The ball is now called Otto and he is bracing himself for a summer of rogering everything that doesn't move fast enough." Watch out Peggy. As he has become the symbol of Tony's waning virility. "An AI gun in a sperm straw just isn't the same," said Tony comfortably. "We know that, love. That's how you ended up with Henry." And talking of sperm straws, Roy persuaded Elizabeth to be interviewed for Radio Borsettshire about Locksfest. "We're a team," said Roy. "There's no 'I' in team, Roy, but there are two in you massive dickhead. He was at his... He was at his punchable best, telling the interviewer, "My sister was a DJ, a Radio Borsettshire. I do know how it works." The interviewer had obviously taken one look at him and decided he was exactly the type who tried to speak into the radio rather than use a mic. An incredibly cringy interview followed, in which Roy and Elizabeth sounded like Richard and Judy's less competent doubles. And if that doesn't drive people away from Locksfest, I don't know what will. Roy then followed up this bowel-shatteringly rubbish interview with another attempt to get into Lizzie's Undercrackers, which he half-heartedly declined. She then offered to host John Trigorren's Wake. It would be a bigger fair for Elizabeth Griskely, at which point Roy kicked the coffee machine. If you passed on the kind of like the Roy and Lizzie thing, already, because I've got a lot to bloody interrupt you about there. That's why I've missed it out. Okay, I know it won't matter. I was so angry, I nearly punched my digital radio, cleaned through the other side of the room. One bloody fumble, and he's talking about leaving his wife and two daughters. One fumble. Lizzie should have told him not only to shut the bloody hell up, she should have needed him in the goonies and told him to bugger off home and give him his P-45. I couldn't bloody believe it. And you know what? I gotta say, 10 out of 10 script writers, because they've managed to make Roy Tocker interesting as a character. Not interesting as a human being, I can't stand the man, right? But for the first time in this millennium, Roy Tocker is interesting as a character, which is no small task, but I really don't like it one job. I think, I mean, when he was a little self care can go a long way, especially amidst the hustle and bustle of the holidays. That's where Vegamor comes in. Trusted by millions, Vegamor is all about giving your hair the love and care it deserves. With their vegan and cruelty free formulas, you can nourish and revitalize your strands while indulging in some much needed pampering. Because let's face it, who couldn't use a bit more me time this time of year? Go to vegamor.com/acast, code ACAST. That's V-E-G-A-M-O-U-R.com/acast, code ACAST. Ryan Reynolds here from Mint Mobile. With the price of just about everything going up during inflation, we thought we'd bring our prices down. So to help us, we brought in a reverse auctioneer, which is apparently a thing. Mint Mobile unlimited. Premium wireless. Have it to get 30-30, get 30, get 30, get 20, 20, 20, get 20, get 20, get 20, get 15, 15, 15, just 15 bucks a month. So, give it a try at mintmobile.com/switch. $45 up from payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three month plan only. Taxes and fees extra. Speeds lower above 40 gigabyte CD tail. My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big row as man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend. My friends still laughing at me to this day. Not everyone gets B2B. But with LinkedIn, you'll be able to reach people who do. Get $100 credit on your next ad campaign. Go to LinkedIn.com/results to claim your credit. That's LinkedIn.com/results. Terms and conditions apply. LinkedIn, the place to be, to be. Um, racist Roy. That was sort of an interesting character development and quite well done. But this, he's just behaving like a huge spoil. Right, isn't he? He's just really, really sulking. And, you know, he is. And I'm just wrapping around and looking around. But it's written so well. It's written so well. And, um, Lizzie's reactions because she does actually have some affection for him. Um, professional, personal, and obviously there is some kind of sexual connection. But she knows she has to. That it's not going anywhere. And he's just making this more kind of untenable. They're kind of working relationship and it's slowly cranking up. And it's absolutely brilliant. But I've got no time for this character as a married man. One bloody fumble. And he's talking about leaving his wife and his two daughters. And that, to me, I'm going to sound somewhat kind of contradictory now. That, to me, does a ring true in terms of boring old Roy. But he's having some kind of mid-life crisis. Yeah, absolutely. A little bit early. But you know, he's having a mid-life crisis. And I think it all depends what age you were when you got married, when you have your mid-life crisis. I think, you know, he's been with it because he was, do you remember he was talking at the stag do? He was talking about who, in between talking about Hailey's hair on his face. It was a bit weird. But, you know, when he was saying, "Oh, you won't have sex anymore," and it is all just comfortable and, you know, pair of old slippers type thing. And at the time, I thought, "Hello, that doesn't sound very jolly." Yeah. But the thing that I think has been really brilliant is Elizabeth's panic, the panic that comes into her voice when he starts going, when he starts getting shirtier than he should ever do with his boss. You can hear the panic in her voice as she's trying to control. Just, sort of, you know, if she could nail him down, she would just kind of shut up. Just don't do this. I thought he nailed her down. I thought he nailed her down. Oh, God. With his Roy Tucker gun. BOW. I think that was probably a tent pegging. That was why she's been wandering around looking all flushed. And he's thinking of, "God, my secret may be out." Right, shall I carry on? Please do. Have we got that? Crack on, Lucy, crack on, trot on. And now, Helen's dinner party. I've had relationships that have been shorter than the time it took for Helen to prepare for this sodding party. Her first act was clearly to smother her son, as we've not heard from him for months. Good. Titching Ob claim that his horrible, scary parents were horrible and scary and weren't coming. But that is because he had not invited them. So Tony and Pat ate crisps, which Tony thought was a form of crackly soup, as that's all he's ever eaten, and muttered together while Titching Ob and Helen had a clenched teeth row in the kitchen. Even Titching Ob getting his nuts out didn't help. So Pat and Tony get home. Helen threw the lamb in the bin and started ironing her hair, and we all waited for the thing that is going to happen to happen. "It must be awful to have such a dysfunctional family," said Jenny Darling, as she shepherded the son of her husband's dead mistress into church. PC Harrisman carpet burns, who's now remembered he's a singer, Dookie Pup, did an audition with Jolene. I think, curious, is the term I would use to describe his singing style? It's rather like all the air rushing out of a bagpipe that someone's just poked with a fork. If you've got it, you'll never lose it. Crowed Jolene joyfully. Harrisment, you never had it. Harrisment and Fallon sang Islands in the stream together, and it sounded more like cat turds in the u-bend. But love is blind of Jolene's death, and Harrisment is now a member of the Midnight Walking Frames, blurring their average age to 184, and making them slightly more sprightly than the Rolling Stones. Rock on Ambridge. That wasn't bad this week. That wasn't bad. No, no, no. What I really like was the fact that you really do take my pointed criticisms on board, and generally they get funny with each passing week. No, I think that's sarcastic. I can't tell now. When you're nice and they're nasty and they're nice again, I can't work out your Rob Titchener. This isn't just a normal asania. This is sheets of Italian pasta and succulent English mince beef, picked up with love at the cash and carry, and lovingly placed in the microwave. There, this is a free-to-fry at the bulless, Anya. The bull sponsors Don't Eat Them. Right. Okay. Let's go. Okay. Come on, you're going to put some up into your voice because you sound all sleepy. Oh, do I? Yeah. That's better. First, drum roll, before all that, baited breath, slow down your diction for dramatic pausing, and also bring down your voice and octave. It's my partner in podcasting crime. Please do tell us about the last week in Ambridge. The Save Ambridge video has been finished. Rather than emailing it to each other, the anti-root bee nutters all trouped round to each other's houses to watch it on their computers because they can make a film, but they can't send an email. David was impressed with the helmet cans. I'm really not sure that's what they were supposed to have been filming, but it'll certainly appeal to a niche audience, I suppose. Hoorah! For Linda Snell, she has found the thing that is going to stop the bypass bypass. It is a rare butterfly called the brown poo-stripe. The brown poo-stripe fluttered across the screen and now Penny has it's got tarmac written all over it. Things are getting frostier at lower Locksley, with racist Roy continuing to tantrum like a toddler who's had the remote control confiscated. Elizabeth said that it wasn't like him as he was usually keen to be hands-on, certainly was. Roy lost his temper with Hailey for talking to Elizabeth, so Elizabeth has window-lean in as assistant manager. Hopefully, Elizabeth will manage to keep out of her pants and I'm definitely not ready to hear Elizabeth exploring that side of her sexuality. There's diarrhea and vomiting. I don't know. I don't know. That'd be too soon there Lucy. Post watershed edition of the arches just for you. There's diarrhea and vomiting among the fruit pickers. That'll serve Adam Rife for paying them in Bridge Farm yogurt. Nice. A traditional English treat, strawberry's cream and a bit of botulism. That could explain the boost drive anyway. "Nice position," said Harrison Burns, and then turned out to be talking about Fallon's stall at Locksfest. "What is it about this programme and people under canvas, are they aroused by the smell of porter news and mildewed sleeping bags?" Jolene and Harrison did a, frankly, appalling rehearsal. It was the absolute worst. I don't know. I don't know how we're supposed to think this is good. No, because you kind of cut people a bit off slack. But then when she said, "Well, yeah, well, at the end, you kind of think, but that was genuinely appalling." And if an audience heard that like us, they'll be bottled off the stage. But no. Anyway, "We'll be a real hit on stage," Jolene said. "I think she meant we will really be hit on stage," Jolene, which is different. Jolene said she could feel a butt coming, which may be explained as strangulated whaling noise. Ed Grumdie found himself in the unusual position of having 20p, which he spent on a go on an old McDonald's toddler combine ride outside the middle in Felpisham. When the money ran out, old McDonald's said, "Good job, farmer!" which Ed sadly took as an NVQ. With his customary professional dyslexia, he then managed to stuff up Adam's combine, sadly, not with Emma's head. This led to Adam having to combine the field on Keira's trike with a fly mode tied to the back. There was also a thing in Ed's pocket, which Emma made a big deal out of throwing in the bin, which presumably means "it was vital." Was it the plans for Root B, Georgie's DNA results, or possibly the Page on Combine from the Lady Bird Book of Farming? No, it was the invitation to Jenny Darling's "Look at my knobs" party, which is still going to be the soap for the decade. Neil does not fancy, understandably, an evening of admiring Jenny Darling's fittings, and Susan Catagorri does not want her knackered old units, which are now presumably covered in fruit picker vomit. Jenny Darling's still trying to palm her sticky-old draws off on the residents of Anbridge, who are by now running away screaming for the damn things. Jenny Darling gets inspiration from Perbet's yeast for her parties. I get inspiration from the young ones for mine. She's making quails and bleely, which all sounds too margo-led better for words. Checkbook, Jenny! Alice used the word "zite geisty," which means I do now have to hunt her down and kill her. In between knocking up a quick aeroplane, doing a bit of fracking and organising the odd wedding, very old in Krusty's case, she's also learnt web design. She fitted in a good session with Fallon, apparently, and once they'd finished that, they built a website full of pictures of Fallon robbing things and stripping. I don't think there's anything like that on the internet, so I'm sure it will be jolly popular. And rich. Yes. Who apparently now sounds like Barry White's butch older brother and only whales can hear him. Has in the grand tradition of all Ambridge young men changed his name. The deed poll agency must bloody hate Ambridge and Christmas cards are a nightmare. So the man who will return to strue inheritance chaos at Bridge Farm is no longer rich or Richard, he's armed with an axe and here's Johnny. Oh, that's a clever end. Sorry? That's a clever end. Thank you. Well, he just sort of stopped really. You should have been a little bit more American and better. Here's Johnny. Oh, can't do American accents, I just make myself cringe. Fair enough. We are British. Instead. What's all blessed with your vocal talents? What if it? Well, the fact that I can't say butch is your rights. Butch is tough. You still can't. No, I can't say it. You have conquered the transatlantic audience, haven't you? Right? Yeah. Well, you're very popular in Japan. No, you're very popular in the States, aren't you? I thought you were popular. Well, you're damning with Frank Fraser, aren't you? When somebody isn't, like, big in their own country, but oh, yeah, you know, he's very popular in Tuvalu. Oh, something. What are you talking about? I thought that your podcast about a map. Oh, that's popular. Oh, what a neat set. You're a professional. Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. I have been on the airwaves across public radio stations across the United States and I was talking to President Thomas Jefferson and I had two weeks and I've had loads of great feedback. It's been absolutely wonderful and I've had lots of, oh, I just loved it. I just loved it, loved it. And it made a change being somebody dead and was actually more lively than you. Now, that was not. You see, I just, I picked you up and then, and then, and then you, you cut me down. Then, hello, Ambridge 3962. Hi, dumpty-dum, it's goddess Diva here. Been trying to spend all day calming down so that I wouldn't swear because though it says, foul-mounted general on my Twitter bio, I know not everybody likes that. So I'm trying to be calm with a special, oh, my days for at nozilla. That's just the only one you're going to get. Right, so this week, what did I like? Well, the award for the most passive, aggressive washing up ever goes to Haley Tucker. You go girl, you nailed it. Now wear the locket and watch his face because you know you want to. We certainly will want you to. The best putdown of the week has to go to Lillian. Are you at five, James, was just so wonderful and also Lillian gets the award for the best putdown without anybody even noticing was like, much like an air hostess. I love Lillian. I want to be her if I grow up. Otherwise, I just want to sit in a pub with her or in our people's home, whatever. You decide and drink lots and lots of gin and smoke loads and loads of fags. Now, the award for the biggest f*cking scum sucking. F*cking bastard. F*cking gaslighting. F*cking asshole. F*cking abusive bastard. All right. Goes to Rob Techena. [Music] [Music] Susan got very cross with Ed for not being a time bridge view and then got cross with Ed for being a time bridge view. Emma then got cross with Ed for not having enough work and then cross with him for having too much work. Susan only cheered up when she heard Elizabeth making a spectacular box of the interview with Radio Bausica. Then she got cross because she couldn't work out what Janine with the double J's had done to her hair to make it stand up on end but she went off to Tommy's which sounds appalling and unhygienic. Oh, I just need to pull you back. Somebody said on Twitter and it really, really, really, really, really made me laugh. They said that interview was akin to Frost vs Nixon. She was taking to pieces. Wow. You could almost see the lip trembling. I can't stop this and I can't leave when I just have to carry on. I know. You feel sorry for Elizabeth but there we go. Wayne suggested Harrison and Jolene sang in the bath together. Wayne, some of us still can't get in the shower after being mentally scarred by Jolene and Sid getting it on over the Raydocks. Wayne told Jolene that she used to make him cry when she sang. Don't worry, Wayne. She still makes many of us weep, weep, sob and drive knitting needles into our eardrums. Danakin Skywalker's taken up boxing in the army. He had a choice between polo cricket, modern pentathlon or lumbans. She was horrified as she was hoping he'd go for pole dancing. He was a naughty boy and had his privileges restricted, which serves him right for doing his fatigues up too tight. The army has changed him. He has now turned into the most over-prepared pious twank that ever wore a head torch. If anyone- Can I copyright the word twank? Yes, register it. Yeah, I'm going to register it. Yeah. Okay. So then you need to then mention me then, then don't you? Yes, a pious twank copyright-profile brown that ever wore a head torch. If anyone deserves to have his drink spiked and a cow pat put in his bedroll, it's Daniel. Meanwhile, back at Brookfield, even who Tijill wants robot milkers now, Ruth, Pip and Jill are on a secret mission to turn brookers into a dairy staffed by robots so they can diversify the rest of it and turn it into a liggle. Ben got an A in PE for his GCSEs. Bless him. I can see a career in the cabinet Beckins. Fallon was baking like that for her tea tent. She's not sure what the crowd are going to expect, she said. So she had freed a standing bar with a load of traybakes. Presumably in case the traybakes needed to go out on the main stage to replace the midnight stalkers. Roy did another "only on the archers" quote. I can't attribute banned the midnight stalkers for the midnight walkers. It could be, couldn't they? Yeah. That would be a bit meta though, wouldn't it? Having a tribute ban to what is essentially a tribute ban, in that they're awful and people only listen to them because they kind of think they might be funny. Roy did another "only on the archers" quote. I can't hang around getting blamed for everything that Tibetan monks are here and I need to go and welcome them. He then blocked... I did make me laugh. I once saw this buddy's priest, he was this black gentleman, he was at my local temple and he could speak Tibetan and kind of Mandarin and Cantonese and all sorts and it was quite, quite disconcerting because he had his family in the corner, who were black and from Peckham and he was there going, "Oh I don't know why." And it was just quite amazing. His mum's eyes were just filled up with pride and she was just kind of crying. It was very lovely and he'd gone off to lassar and yeah it was really quite moving and they hadn't seen him in like seven years. How? And it was some fire festivals a couple of years ago and I got all by a buddhist like. So don't knock the Tibetan monks please. I'm not. Good. All right. I'd be hanging out with them too. Actually I was hanging out with them too actually because we picked locks for someone. I saw the mullet, I've been up for hours by the way. I've been rubbing Sabrina's weight together to make a fire and she apparently the Tibetan monks have been up since four doing their meditating and ting in their little simply things and dialing in bets for the mountain's livable match later. Would they do in a little bit with their lock in their littles? Yes. Okay. All that, the binging. Cool. Where am I? Where am I? Yes. Um, Roy the barely in a tent. Roy then got all of us very overexcited by going up onto the roof of Lower Loxley for barely discernible reasons. Sadly he failed to slip off and smashes stupid head in and nation mourns. He did however slip on to something sharp, not his wits clearly. It just seems somewhat forced that, you know. I'm just going, who? In front right but on the roof. Roy you went on the roof. Oh would you like to wear Nigel's shirt? Yes sir. Hell. Come on. You don't want to be the father to Freddy. While you're up there. It's on. What a bet Mr Darcy Elizabeth tended his booms and dressed in one of Nigel's old outfits. He looked odd in the Gorilla costume, but he was a professional. Ed managed to deliver a calf without bundling it up, which was a first for him. The actual noise of the delivery sounded like a moped driving through a puddle and we all went and then we all fervently hoped that we weren't going to be in the delivery room of the Snellaby baby. And then the big announcement. The Petra boys are coming to Nox Fest. This is the third celebrity appearance on the archers in a year. Next week's archers will feature Beyonce as Ursula Tichena. And then Karita Carnewa will be chairing Paris Council meeting. I don't know what to say about this because in a number one, there's too many celebs in this now. No, I know it's all kind of quite clever and everybody's like a bit of a... Four years. Not one celebrity did I ever see, ever, ever, ever. Well, actually Bob Marley came round to our house. Now you are joking. No, I'm not. It's a really real. So it's 1972 and it's one of my first ever memories and we had this guy living with us called Tony Curtis and he was the regé DJ of BBC Radio Birmingham and he had this little triumph sports car and he said to my dad, one bank holiday, Glenn, why don't you take your young son, I was, what, three, four at the time. He said it's one of my first ever memories. Take him to the seaside and drive my sports car. My dad was like, what? And he said, take my sports car, take this son to the seaside with your wife. Goodbye. Right. So my dad said, okay. And I remember my dad bought me a Tonka toy and this yellow JCB Tonka toy digger and we went off to South End on sea. Then we came back two days later and the neighbour said, oh, this is a big party in your house. My dad says, what are you talking about? And he says, yeah. And they had funny hair. Ben, mine, this is 1972. And they're all Jamaican. And then he was on the telly. And he said, yeah. And then my dad says to Tony Curtis, who the hell was in our house? And yeah. And he says, oh, yeah, this group from Jamaica called Bob Marley and the Whalers. And like they couldn't have anywhere, they didn't have anywhere to stop. So I said, they could stop at yours. And my dad said, oh, okay, then. And then, yeah. So there you go, Bob Marley and the Whalers stayed in our house. What do you, could be in South End on sea with a Tonka toy? Well, Bob Marley or house? And yeah. And then, but the thing was about this story. I only discovered this story about 15 years ago, because I remember South End and see and I remember the Tonka toy. And, and, and I was sick Megastar. All you remember is the Tonka toy. Well, the thing was it was 1972 and he wasn't the global Megastar then. That was when he started on his kind of career. It just been signed to Ireland records, et cetera, then, and they were doing the first UK tour. So, and, but he went on the on the old grey whistle test that, you know, that month. But I was chatting to my mom about going to South End on sea and remembering the Tonka toy. And there was his old garden. And she said, oh, that was Wayne Bob Marley. Yes. And I went, what do you mean Bob Marley was in our house? You know, you know, the story. I mean, mom, I'm 30. And you're just telling me that Bob Marley, I could have dined out on this. I'll be waiting. But, you know, yeah. Yes. So anyway, so yeah, celebrities are always like mucking around in our house. That's the moral of that story. Apologies for not sending in a cooler inner peace last week. But I feared I was getting as overexposed as Carol Trigorran. Also, I came down with a jolly seasonal bug and spent the weekend moaning and groaning with the snuffles. Another reason for my decline was my world being turned upside down. Unbelievably, when talking with three people on separate occasions last week, who know not of my love of the archers, they used the phrase right you are. In my delirium, it felt as if real life was now the archers and somehow every day life had merged with that in ambridge with some strange disruption of the spacetime continuum. I thought, boyfield, that you sounded a bit down in the dumps last week and in need of cheering up. I was dismayed to hear you say I wouldn't care if you stayed in Canada. Of course I would. I would be distraught if the Atlantic separated us and would sense it in the podcasts. I'm sorry I couldn't make your birthday drinks in London as it's hard to get up to the metropolis on a school day. Your birthday has led me to an amazing discovery though that we had twin brothers. You were less than four weeks older than me and obviously what happened is it was a twin birth. You popped out first, then there was a bit of a delay before I arrived, then the inevitable mix up on the maternity ward and I was taken off by a random couple. I can't wait for the next dumb-to-dumb meetup for a fond family reunion. Back to the archers, I've enjoyed the ongoing debate amongst listeners about all the new actors sounding the same and it being confusing. I must say it really hasn't bothered me. I used to love listening to ambridge extra and there were whole swathes of programs with various Russians and friends of Jamie Perks in different storylines who I struggle to identify. I just lay back and let it all wash over me without worrying about who was who. I must admit I found the whole experience rather pleasant. Happy Christmas to one and all. Mike's heart is not in the bottling plant. It's so awful when your heart goes out to the bottling plant isn't it? It's devastated to some kind of families. Anyway, looks like he's lost interest in the whole stressful thrilling at the bottles with milk thing as a career and something vitals blown up so that's that and now someone's set fire to his van, probably jazza and presumably harassment burns is on the case, which means it won't get sold. That'd be really been a teenage delinquent. Oh, it could be. Oh yeah, I thought of that. Oh, yes. Like you, you need it linked. Yeah, maybe I will leave that bit in the podcast then. Anyway, presumably harassment burns is on the case, which means it won't get solved as nothing does unless it involves an up-cycle teapot. So that means it can take over the milk ground. Quickly please, we don't want another elastic storyline. Chop chop. Ruth bombed up to Prada to help Heather, who'd fallen over her teeth again. The prospect of Ruth's speciality turkey feet and chips will get her up about in no time. Heather now needs rehabilitation, whether it's rehabilitation from living in Prada, having Ruth or having a wonky hip, we're not sure. Jill seems to be attempting to prove herself as David's favourite wife in Ruth's absence, which is a teensy bit hickey. She's getting up in the middle of the night to bring in coffee, deliver calves and serve him cake 14 times a day. But it's not all bad news. Adam's fully stretched, apparently. So there's always good news for someone. Hayley got stood up by Roy the rat, and it was all a bit gut-wrenching, especially as we were all shouting, "Yes, yes, yes, but that was Jess in the changing room, Jess off the salmon, Jess." And she was up the door for breakers. Get out of the way. Hayley, we want to see Jess, which did not make us feel very good about ourselves. Freddie had a proper Kevin the Teenager moment, and managed to take the whole of lower locksly down in one fell swoop. He wished Lizbuth was dead, and said Roy and Elizabeth were disgusting, which she said was a bit harsh. I wish that Dad was here and you weren't. Yeah, probably because Dad was slightly less likely to be shagging Roy, I'd imagine. Jess then pitched up, but you wouldn't necessarily put that, you know, even that's conceivable, because it's a little public schoolboy, wouldn't you, Nigel? They don't get up to all of you, no? That's not such a big leap for those types of gentlemen. All public schoolboys are gay. Is that what you're saying? No, I'm just saying they have kind of tendencies that way, and they just call it, you know, just a rather intimate handshake. Jossing, banter. And all that, yes. Mmm. Just messing around with a friend. Doesn't mean anything. He's really just fell into my hand. Which is hand. Yeah, well, I think that's unlikely. Anyway, poor old, poor old Freddie. Wait a minute. No, none of those descriptions is right. Freddie is neither old or poor. No, he's an idiot. That's what he is. But it's not nice though, is it? I mean, it's bad enough. When you're that age, it's bad enough contemplating your parents having sex at all. But the idea of your mum having sex with the man who's been following you around, telling you off every time you, you know, fail to put your chewing gum in the bin correctly, and is 15 years younger than her, and it is an idiot. You know, that's horrible, isn't it? Well, I think you need telling us if you burnt down Mike's milk float. We don't know that. Yeah, it was Fred Pudge. No, get Ari some burns on it. I've sold the case. You don't need to get him on it. No, you're off at the West Midlands. Can't you? You've kind of... You're serious crime squad. Lock him up quick. Guilty until proved innocent. Jess then pitched up, Vivek the Rob Bump, or the Rob Bump at Helen's quitted. Jess over-inunciated in a vaguely psychotic sounding manner, and Helen adjusted her blinkers. Jess went on and on about Rob's irresistibility, to such an extent that we may need to rethink the Titchinob Monica. It no longer seems appropriate for a man who can act like Norman Bates and then have women queuing up to sleep with him, albeit total nut jobs. Rob Titanic knob looks good from the outside. It's huge, but when you get on board as a bit chilly, and then before you know it, you're going down. Anyway, a wild sketch. He said to Helen, "Oh, as long as you're not brooding about it." About what, darling? Ex-factor, "Oh, about your wife turning up here, pregnant." No, never gave that another thought. Um, Ed's back on the track to work, Charlie's letting him play, with the tractor again, as long as he promises not to change the radio station, adjust the seat, or hoo-hoo-tah. Leonie has got his birth thing down pat. She's using the old fat and sugar, is good for breastfeeding, excuse to shovel cake. Personally, my youngest child is nine, and I'm still eating like a hobbed carrier. They're going to have a naming ceremony for young baguera, Montgomery, Singing Bellamy Snell at Andridge Hall. His numerology chart suggests he'll keep making the same mistake over and over again. Introducing people to his mother, probably. So, that was the week that was in Andridge. Tune in next week when Heather gets a new hip, Hayley gets even, and Roy gets stuffed. Oh, you said something really funny in the middle of that. Can you remember what it was going to talk about that bit? You can't remember either, can you? No! The bit that made him is the rude bit that made you laugh. He's always the rude bit, isn't it? No! Oh, passive-aggressive Jess. I don't know, vaguely psychotic. Yeah. Yes. She's not right, you know. Well, Bob is not right, but she ain't right here. I was thinking about it this morning. I think what's happening is, because they're doing it well, and they're doing the gaslighting thing very, very well. And to make sure that we are going to even contemplate the fact that Rob might be playing with a straight bat, they have to make Jess sound as ambiguously, potentially bonkers as him. It wasn't ambiguously bonkers. She was completely in utterly, as you would say, passive-aggressive. She's furious! She's absolutely furious. But, wait a minute, this didn't sound like a woman on the edge of a nervous breakdown, because she's been left with her husband's child. She sounded entirely off. Exactly. Yeah. Exactly. She went in there, and whatever, like she was, though it was still her house, she was Lady Mark, and all that stuff about, you know, how Rob is so irresistible, that is done. I'm telling you, these script writers are playing an absolute blinder with this, and this woman is as barking as Rob. She absolutely is. Yeah. This isn't a woman that's been damaged by Rob. She's gone into that relationship being a screw loose, having a screw loose. Absolutely. And again. But she, do you remember when she, when we were first introduced to them, and there was all that rubbish about the flipping salmon and all that stuff, she didn't sound like that then. She said to be fair, when Rob first came, he sounded like a, as the Americans would say, a stand-up guy, you know? Yeah, he did. Yeah, yeah, yeah. He was just so stand-up and straight to the point of being vanilla and boring. Yeah, he's just gacing out. Absolutely. Absolutely not. And the subtle tears that they're thrown into this are absolutely great, because you find yourself not rooting for the scorned, wronged, pregnant woman. That's genius writing. That's genius. Yeah. But you're going, oh, I don't like her, though. Quickly, whiz over to the poetry tent, because the lower lock's glorious there. Oh. Every festival needs a poetry tent. Yes. And did, did was Bert Fry's warm-up man. He's not, he's taken over the Bert Fry mantle. He has, hasn't he? Yes. He is our Bert Fry. Hello all. The locks feel moderate here, speaking to you from the most talked about music festival of the summer. Locksfest provides the installation to two new limericks. A radio DJ is dashing the dirt. Lizzy blamed Roy. Now he's feeling hurt. He's getting the blues trying to fill Nigel's shoes, so he's having a go at his shirt. A troublesome childhood in a gang of punks. Now Roy Tucker is one of the hunks. But if Haley discovers he and Lizzy are lovers, he should have gone with the Tibetan monks. Oh, first, before all that, Lizzy V, Freeman. Oh, who are you? I can't think. What do you mean, who am I? Oh, let's not get existential. It's first thing on a Monday morning. Just, you, you, you, you, please tell us about the last week, that will do. Oh, go on then. What, you want me to start? Yeah. God, nothing like a big build-up, is it? The Poof Factory looks to be going ahead. Who rah? This week in Ambridge made the world at war look light and flippant. It seemed to be raining solidly on every episode, and everything was accompanied by the gloomy thrumming of rain on roofs. It added a bit of brectian despondency to what was already a laugh a minute. Bryan's unaffected. They were apparently hugely amused at Roy and Elizabeth's affair. Yes, it is always hilarious when people have affairs and wrote to their children, and isn't it, Bryan? How is Roori, by the way? Uh, can't you? It's playing hard to get. He's disappeared, and Adam's been trailing around the village on his BMX, stopping people and saying, "Um, obviously Charlie, it doesn't matter if you haven't, because I'm like so not bothered, but, you know, have you at all?" No. He got so despondent, he transferred his affections to the sheep, and crushed them instead. I think that's the sheepy equivalent of a back-sackened crack. The poor sheep must dread Adam looming on the horizon. "Run! It's Adam again! Charlie's the plants of these galls, and he's got a pair of nutcrackers in his hand. Helen is doing all those little jobs around the house that need doing, polishing the knives and forks, sewing on buttons, cutting the lawn with nail scissors, hoovering out the holes on the cheese grater and polishing the gravel." Oh, I had to hook and I put on my jacket on on Saturday. I bought this jacket from Religion on Port Obello, and I love it. It's an asymmetrical thing. The thing is, it was bought from a sample shop, and then the problem is the button didn't quite work, so I had a hook and I put on by a lovely oriental lady. It cost me £2.50. Good. It's just when you said, you know, sewing on buttons, it just reminded me. You need a Helen. Thank you. You need a Helen. You need somebody to sit at home and polish your gravel, and... No, because I don't like some... No, no, no. Well, not beat them. Oh, so is there a middle ground? There's only two types. We're in the beach without the face and neck, and all that's that's it. Clearly, I'm joking. Before I get the rules, you know, I'm joking. Oh, anyway, where were we? Helen, polishing, polishing, forks and knives. Oh, right. Rob has graciously permitted Helen to visit Emma and even talk to Bert on the green. We don't want you getting lonely, so Rob to Helen, no, not lonely, just dependent and scared. David did Ruth, called a family meeting to discuss their ludicrous plan, to stick the farm on Gumtree and take all the cows to live in a bed and breakfast in Northumbria. All Kenton thought about was the cash. Elizabeth got stroppy. She was bewildered. Same old, same old. Well, we got them all on board, said Ruth mentally after the whole family had started shouting and then left. Fallon's starting to sound as if she is losing the plot ever so slightly. She screamed with delight about an open-air film night at Arkwright Hall, soaked because Emma couldn't then go with her, snapped at Kenton and pretended that she couldn't even remember who Harrison was. Oh, just give it up. I know what'll happen. Linda will end up doing a live one-woman reconstruction of the Battle of Bosworth. There'll be a horrible incident with the cannonball and Harrison will counter to the rescued Fallonville faint. This sort of nonsense always happens at Christmas and secretly, I love it. Shula and Elizabeth sat in the folly, appropriately enough, and discussed Elizabeth's inability to manage balls. She fessed up about tent flaps to Shula, who was relatively supportive, bearing in mind her own history of flagrant tent flappage in her younger days. You know those plaques in National Trust homes that say Elizabeth I was believed to have slept here? There's one plaque in Ambridge that says Shula Racha did not have sexual intercourse here at that next week. Just an Elliot is coming to the huntball. Ooh, we finally get to see him. Or hear him, whatever. I'm fully expecting him to appear dressed as Darth Vader with lots of sinister speeches. I hope Susan never gets to meet him. She's got a thing about evil capitalist. She gets a bit breathy with Charlie, but the village shop will be a wash if Justin ever makes it through the door. Linda auditioned for flops and was offered the challenging role of prompter. Her sniff now deserves a separate listing all on its own. I think it's up for a bAFTA. The only thing that outperformed it this week was Phoebe Tucker, played once again by Princess Margaret. She took her dad down like a 20s flapper armed with an AK-47 and the airwaves rang with the sound of listeners cheering. She called Elizabeth at heart and after a night with Roy at heart with a soggy bottom. He can't say stuff like that. It's a family podcast. It's a soggy bottom because they were in a tent. Oh yes. What did you think? Well, I can't say what I thought, but I actually think you were hedging your bets with that. I think you're thinking well, hmm, right? Generally, if people do that type of thing, the type of thing that they've done allegedly, like the female person can end up with a soggy bottom, but you're hedging your bets by saying that because then also they were in a tent and they couldn't be some dampness. Thank you, right, Bill. I just deconstruct- Anyway, on that deconstructive note, deconstruction, yes. Yes, I think we should hit the phone lines because we've got a barrel load of listeners calls this week. Shall we crack on? Hello. Hello. Hello. This thing working. Hello. This is Sir Duckling Tuft. You were requesting archers, crushes, I believe. Well, my crush, of course. Hang on a second. Hang on. Yes. Come in, come in, come in. Oh yes, yes. Please come in. Come in. Yes. Come in. There's popular clothes on the stool over there. I'll be with you in a second. Let's have to cast this pod and I'll be with you. Yes. Now, my crush, my archer's crush, is, of course, the redoubtable Antia Jennings. She's managed to turn her arms upside around single-handedly, and anyone who can rule Matt and Lillian with a rod of Isle and have them meeting the rigor of fixed luncheon breaks is a sort of woman for me. She can come and grapple with my schedule any time she likes. She's a fine filly. No one wears a brogue quite like her, and I'd be very happy to wax her jacket. Now, there you have it, the redoubtable Antia Jennings. Now, where was I? Oh, do excuse me. I didn't, I think my hands are a little cold. Well, it's outrageous, says Adam, as Debbie's got the old heave ho. Well, it is ridiculous giving her the boot just because she lives in a different country to the farm she manages. Lots of people work remotely. I mean, I live in East London and I oversee a small wildlife park in Gudansk, and that works perfectly well. I mean, obviously, I'm not there to see any of the animals, but I look at them over Skype and they seem absolutely fine to me. Can I just quickly just jump in? You can. All right. My boy. Noah? Yeah, was in a meeting with us just last week, wasn't he? He was. Yeah, via Skype. All the way to Ronto, and it was come to work with your dad day, and he said, Dad, can I come on work with you? And so we didn't have this guy, and I wasn't horrible, but he had to do work, but he took notes from the meeting, and he emailed them back to us, and I was so proud of the boy. There you go. So you can work remotely via Skype. You can even do podcasts via Skype. You probably couldn't be something like a painter and decorator remotely, but most things you probably can. I'm still not sure about farming. It's just a matter of time before technology keeps, you know, captions up, and you actually will be able to do painting decorating remotely, because you can actually now feed your pet remotely and give it a treat via an internet app. Right. So there you go. Yeah, but not 750 cows. No. That actually meant something more of a problem. And I got, and I'm kind of on BL side with this, because how on top of things is she really? Exactly. Anyway, oh, for messing around with Stephen Mangum, might you given the chance I'd quite like to be messing around with Stephen Mangum rather than looking up 700 hours? You just want to be working over in LAD. I don't care where he is, I'll go to him. But Lucy? Yeah. Yeah, you've got a monologue to deliver. Sorry. Look, you need to just keep on track. Don't get sidetracked. Don't distract her. Big question this week. Does anyone still eat jelly? Jim demanded desperately. Well, do they? And a few discoveries. Nathan Booth will do anything for cheesy biscuits. So that's good to know. But when Kathy Perk gets really desperate. And the Aldrichs are going to buy brookers. Difficult to take a business decision of that magnitude when the proposition's being made by a man in Tigger pajamas. But there you go. Jenny Darling's got her eye on the farmhouse itself to turn it into one gigantic kitchen with hot and cold running rock for. And Brian is secretly planning to use as a sort of holding pen for any other offspring that might pop up in the future. Alan the disappearing vicar popped up to do the Remembrance Sunday Service, which was very moving until Peggy took a header into the font. Shuler offered to examine her, but as that would involve Peggy getting on all fours while she lifted up her feet one at a time and slapped her on the arse, Peggy wisely declined. Jenny Darling checked up on Peggy the next day and she didn't get out of her chair, Jenny Darling noticed anxiously. I think the truth needs to come out. Peggy is pissed. She's at the end of her tether with the philandering, winching bunch she stuck with as a family, so she sought refuge in the T.O. Pepe. She can't stand her because she sank a couple of bottles just to give her the strength to sit next to Shuler without braining her with a handbag. There was an interesting couple of minutes about the preparations for Peggy's party. Pat said she'd mostly be making quiches and tarts, quiche soup and tart soup. Jenny Darling was head-chogging about doing Peggy's album. It's a difficult second album you have to watch, Jennifer. It did give us a chance to appreciate the fact that Jenny Darling is the only person in the universe who still says super duper. Pat described Peggy as a bit starchy. She's starchy than a jacket potato sandwich. Brian noticed that reception must be an awful come-down for Roy. Oh yes, so much more lowering than being a claim for your ability to sort out the ginger nuts for a drawing pin convention and then standing, crying and hiccuping outside your boss's window with six McCallons washing around inside you. George Grundy, who is rapidly becoming my hero, has been drawing terrifying pictures at the end of days. He drew a psychotic turkey. George's religious fervor, boldiness and general ability to bring chaos wherever he goes is extremely inspiring and he will be taking over Joe's mantle of wandering disaster once he reaches adulthood. You don't understand why Henry Archer gets in the neck. When he's George Grundy, he's actually the devil spawn. He's not right easy, that's that character. He is, I am expecting very soon to people noticing crow's nail-to-ball. It won't be long, will it? But you can understand why George is like he is. He has a grandfather who molests spirits and tells the fortune through turkey cuts. His grandmother's changed voice twice a week. Sorry. His great grandmother's changed voice twice in the last two years. His dad's his uncle and his uncle's his dad or something. His mother's beggar thinks she's Karen Brady and his step-dad shot his dog. It's amazing he's just drawing pictures and he's not on Jeremy Kyle. The archers had a good laugh about Johnny's northern accent. Ha, ha, ha, aren't Northern people sweet? They're hilarious with their poverty and their funny accents. What's wrong with these people? They can understand Jazza, who seems to speak entirely without using vowels as far as I can hear. Root B, which even the village is now lost interest in, never mind the listeners, is being attacked again by Linda under the eegis of Robert's friend Con. Con. Does that sound like someone she should be taking advice from? He might as well be called Big Fat Liar. But then we had the big story at Bridge Farm. Tony started channeling Frank Spencer and Told St. Tony started channeling Frank Spencer and Told St. Tony started channeling Frank Spencer and Told St. Johnny that Henry had a little bit of a gold. So he was left to the 10 demonstrations of St. Johnny while Helen took Peggy into Borsett, Jeff, for a Brazilian. The backstory here is that Otto the Bull, who has shown zero interest in any of the cows he's supposed to be rogering, has a keen interest in musical theatre and factually involves in Peggy's festivities. He heard St. Johnny and Tony discussing the music for Peggy's party and Tony dismissing a mashup of tiny temper and Tommy Croker. So when Tony moved him out, Otto couldn't resist a little mashup of Tony's chest. I bet the people of him just could not be restrained so he demonstrated the old shuffle hop step, except he did it on Tony. And poor old Tony ended up in hospital with Pat being brave. In a way it was a good job it was Tony and not Brian. You can have soup for a feeding tube but venison pastas would be a nightmare. So on that sad note, we'll leave it to St. Johnny to sum up. Oh, Bull's burnt! He didn't say that, he didn't say that at all. He was cramped at! I, right now, I know it's not my place to really talk about my feelings about the archers. I just kind of just like to say hi, hello, and you just wind yourself up and you just go. However, I can't take any more excitement in the archers. I'm an archers fan. I don't want excitement. I just want, you know... We've had two calls this week that say exactly that. Oh, I just seriously, it's too much. If I want excitement, I'll watch Claude van Damme or Jason Statham or whatever. I want characters. We want a flarrant juice show. Exactly. I want and I want to be able to moan about the flarrant projects buddy show. The harvish festival and the bloody Christmas plays. That's what I want and I want to moan about though. I can't take this death destruction. People have been jilted. It's too much for me. Hello, 50s and sure here. How did Kirstie get to Costa Rica with a friend to party hard? Changed to the booking, bought friend's flight. Hope she charged Tom's credit card. Helen's weepy over Henry. Rob is there while she's a wreck. Holds her hand and holds the fort and holds the lead around her neck. Peggy's tax it builds enormous to Jenny, Tom and Pat, she flew. Mending fences, building bridges. She'd probably fit a kitchen too now that Jenny's build was bottled. And how's she gonna boil an egg? Plus the pain in Brian's backside started going down his leg. Adam's going all Mike Tyson. Could he lick your charlie boy? Give it time. It's bound to happen. Best man for that job's not Roy. Susan's fawning worm has turned and bitten Jenny on the hand, which offered cast-off sticky draws. Not something Ambridgeview could stand. Clara's near the big 6-0. Susan bursts into a song. Eddie plans a 70s party. What could possibly go wrong? Danny exclaims he's a rubbed up topper. Not something to shout about. When he joins his regiment, they'll stamp that kind of horse play out. Tom, in existential crisis, on Pat's shoulder sheds a tear. Tony kicks him when he's down. Nice going, father of the year. Tony, look into the mirror. What do you see within its frame? You or Tom? Look closer now. You'll find that you are much the same. You'll see a man who feels he's done the right thing. Never mind the cost. Whose parents on relationships have founded and they're all but lost. Hello, I'm Todam. It's Jon from Newcastle here. Just a really quick message this week. I'm not even going to talk about the archers that much except to say that I am really looking forward now to the Blithe Spirit episode on Boxing Day. Following Lucy's recommendation on last week's podcast, I looked up the Blithe Spirit film on iTunes, the one starring Margaret Rutherford and Rex Harrison and it was absolutely brilliant. I really enjoyed it. So I can't wait to see that. Hear that rather, should I say, on Boxing Day and hear the archers take on it, particularly Lynn to doing Madame Arcarty. I think it'll be great. No, the reason I really want to call in this week is just to say a big thank you and Merry Christmas to the two of you and to all the other listeners. It's been a genuine pleasure to listen to you this year and to hear everybody and speak to you all on Twitter of course. I've really, really enjoyed it and my weeks wouldn't be the same without it now. So a big thank you. I hope you both have a fantastic time over the Christmas period. I hope all the listeners have a fantastic time and I look forward to speaking to you and hearing from you again in the new year. Thanks very much and bye for now. Oh, also don't forget to check your PayPal stocking because I think Santa might have slipped something in there. Once again, a massive thank you. And I hope that goes some way towards keeping this fantastic podcast on the air. Thank you again and bye for now. Hey, it's Mark Marin from WTF here to let you know that this podcast is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. And I'm sure the reason you're listening to this podcast right now is because you chose it. Well, choose Progressive's name your price tool and you could find insurance options that fit your budget so you can pick the best one for your situation. Who doesn't like choice? Try it at Progressive.com. And now some legal info, Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and Affiliate's price and coverage match limited by state law not available in all states. My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big row as man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend. My friends still laughing me to this day. Not everyone gets B2B. But with LinkedIn, you'll be able to reach people who do. Get $100 credit on your next ad campaign. Go to LinkedIn.com/results to claim your credit. That's LinkedIn.com/results. Terms and conditions apply. LinkedIn. The place to be. To be.

Dum Tee Dum Episode 39 – Christmas Best of show

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