Add-on Alan 1
[1]
[Radio Norwich.]
Alan: It’s 4:39am.
[As the Radio Norwich jingle plays, a female
assistant arrives in the studio next to Alan.]
Assistant: Would you like a drink?
Alan: Yes, can I have a coffee with two Sweetex.
Assistant: Pardon?
[The jingle has finished, and they are both
on air.]
Alan: [Irritated] You’re listening to ‘Up With The Partridge’.
[Alan plays the jingle again.]
Alan: [To the assistant] You said ‘pardon’ when I was on air! Two Sweetex please.
Assistant: Right.
Alan: You’re listening to, as I say, ‘Up With The Partridge’. [With an irritated glance after the assistant] That’s been said five times now.
[2]
[Radio Norwich.]
Alan: Alan’s ‘Fact Of The Day’: Tusks are congealed hair. Another one of those same time tomorrow. Just coming up to seven o’clock…
[3]
[Radio Norwich.]
Alan: That was Cyndi Lauper, who despite the spiky-haired punk-rock image has invested her money, very wisely, in property. It’s 6:30am, and I see that Doctor David Clifton, professor of pop at Rocksford University is with us, preparing for his seven a.m. show. He’s not really a professor, didn’t go to college. He left school when he was fifteen? I think…
[Alan catches Dave’s stern look from the
other studio.]
Alan: …because his mother was ill.
[Dave nods, with a forced smile.]
[4]
[The lobby of Linton Travel Tavern. Alan is
at the desk, talking to Susan.]
Alan: I’ve got my foot back in the door at the BBC!
Susan: Oh! Are we going to see you back on the television?
Alan: Well, in a word, probably yes.
[5]
[In the BBC restaurant. Alan is seated at
his table with Tony Hayers.]
Alan: Right, OK. A costume chat-show, hosted by me as Samuel Pepys. You could have an actor like John Thaw playing a king, you know, a Nordic king. And I… they could get information fed to them by experts. You know, you could have Stephen Hawkins, behind a screen, whispering clues through his computer.
[6]
[Outside the show-house, Alan and Lynn have just arrived in Alan’s graffitied car. Alan gets out of the car.]
Alan: Oh, that is Premier League. Oh, ten on ten, Lynn.
[7]
[Inside the show-house, Alan is surveying the
lounge.]
Alan: Is this ceiling high or low?
Estate Agent: I think it’s in the middle.
Alan: It is, isn’t it? Make a note of that, Lynn.
[8]
[In the upstairs landing of the show-house, Alan walks down the corridor, followed by the Estate Agent.]
Alan: [Pointing to the loft hatch in the ceiling] Loft access, that’s good. Actually, someone could use it to break in. Block it off.
[The two men enter the upstairs bedroom.]
Alan: Ooh, lovely. I love this very plush, deep carpet.
EA: Mmm.
Alan: Marvellous. I mean, you should take your shoes off, really, in here.
EA: Mmm, yes.
Alan: I know Paul Daniels insists on it. People have a go at him for it, but they don’t have to clean it, do they? Mind you, neither does he. Debbie does it.
[Downstairs again, Alan, the Estate Agent
and Lynn are in the lounge.]
Alan: Is there a bus service?
EA: There’s no public transport, actually. You do need a car to get here.
Alan: Excellent!
[9]
[Alan and
Tony Hayers sit at their table in the BBC restaurant. A waiter is at the table
and hands a small piece of paper to Alan.]
Waiter: There’s a message from a Nigel Gallagher, asking you to call him urgently.
Alan: Oh, right.
[Alan
speaks into his mobile phone.]
Alan: Hello, Nigel? It’s Alan. How’s the Oasis?
Tony: Alan…
Alan: Excuse me, Nigel…[puts his hand
over the receiver]
Tony: It’s Noel. Noel Gallagher, from Oasis.
Alan: Nigel, I’m being told that your name’s Noel. Is that correct? Well, do you want to check? It’s in the glove compartment. It is? Well no, we’ve fallen at the first hurdle, haven’t we? Yep. Well no, that’s not what I pay you for. [Weakly] Well, Noel, will you come on my show and play songs with the Oasis? Thank you.
[Alan
puts his mobile away. Tony looks at him sternly.]
Alan: It was my PA, Lynn.
Tony: Listen, Alan…
Alan: [Interrupting] Such a simple thing…
[10]
[Alan is
at the reception desk in the hotel. Susan and Sophie are behind the desk.]
Susan: Alan, [leaning over and offering Alan a leaflet] are you going to come to our romantic Valentine’s Day buffet this evening?
Alan: Is that a proposition? [Smiles at
Susan]
Susan: No, I’m promoting the Valentine buffet.
[Susan
leaves reception.]
Alan: [Reading the leaflet] Sounds superb, but I need an escort.
Sophie: Shall I ring an agency?
[Alan’s
smile fades.]
[11]
[Alan
and Lynn are sat in the lobby of the hotel.]
Alan: Look, if I was to sack everyone at Peartree Productions, and you, would I be able to trade up to a Rover 600?
Lynn: No, you wouldn’t make the savings. You only pay me seven thousand pounds a year.
Alan: Right. Well, you’re cheap, I’ll give you that. Er, OK. If I sacked you – stay with this, Lynn – would I be able to specify air conditioning as an option on the Rover 200?
Lynn: Yes, you could.
Alan: Right. [Sits back and sighs thoughtfully] You see, it really is a Godsend in those summer months.
Lynn: Well, in hot days I could hold a hand fan to your face.
Alan: [Nodding] Well, congratulations, Lynn, you’ve just successfully re-negotiated your contract. Put it there.
[Alan
and Lynn shake hands.]
[12]
[Alan
and Gill stand in a field at the Owl Sanctuary. Alan leers shiftily at Gill.]
Alan: So, er… What’s your, er… situation?
Gill: D’you mean, do I have a partner?
Alan: Yes, do you have a partner in crime? I mean, I’m not saying what you do’s criminal.
Gill: How do you know!
[Alan
and Gill giggle. Alan groans.]
Alan: Yeah, I mean, I don’t like
criminality. I’ll be honest, I mean, I will not break the law. I’ll say that
now. [He is now very serious.]
[13]
[Alan and
Gill are driving in his car. ‘Gaudete’ by Steeleye Span is playing on the car
stereo.]
Alan: Do you want a Minstrel?
Gill: Ooh, yeah! Celebrate!
[They
both giggle.]
Gill: They ought to make them with white chocolate. Then they could call them Black and White Minstrels.
Alan: Ha ha ha! That’s a good one! Yeah, that’s a very good one. Black and White Minstrels. [Turning to her] You’ve a marvellous sense of humour.
[Alan turns
back to the road just in time to swerve to avoid oncoming traffic.]
Alan: Oh, God! Sorry…
[14]
[At the
Valentine’s buffet, Alan and Gill are sat at their table. Michael arrives.]
Michael: Have you all done? Maybe like to order a dessert?
Alan: I’ll deal with this. [To Gill] “Are we all done, would we like to order a dessert”.
Michael: They’ve also said, would I remind you that we have, tonight, because it’s Valentine’s, a selection of Cocktails for lovers.
Alan: “Cocktails for lovers”. Reasonably clear.
Gill: It’s funny, isn’t it? It’s very different from English.
Michael: Wai-aye, man, you know, nowadays, when I go back home to Newcastle you know, most folks’ll say to us, right, your accent’s gone all soft.
Alan: [Eyes closed, concentrating] “Usually when I go back home to Newcastle, people say my accent’s gone soft”. I’d question that, but, er… [turns to Gill] carry on.
Gill: [Reading from her menu] ‘Singapore Sling’…. ‘Slow Comfortable Screw’!
[They
both laugh.]
Gill: ‘Slow Comfortable Screw Against A Wall’!
[They
laugh again, louder.]
Alan: It’s so funny, isn’t it?
Gill: I’ll have a ‘Singapore Sling’.
Michael: And for you, Mr. Partridge?
Alan: I’ll have a pint of bitter, please.
[15]
[Later
on that night, Alan and Gill are leaning close together over the table.]
Alan: Do you remember Nutty bars, nuts on the outside? Good idea, but in the end quite painful to eat. They could bring on a gumboil. I’ve actually got one now. Right there…
[Alan
opens his mouth with his finger and shows Gill.]
[16]
Michael: I’ll tell you what I do every morning – a bit of shadow boxing. That’s good, you know. Bit of – [shadow boxes, with sound effects.] That’s good. Gets you going.
Alan: [Joining in, hopping up and down] I’m gonna get you!
Michael: That’s it, aye! Come on, here look, I’ll show you a wee trick, right. It’s called a faint. I’ll faint with my left, watch. Ready?
[Michael
throws a shadow punch at Alan. Alan yelps and jumps back.]
Alan: Whoa!
Michael: Faint with the left, get them with the right.
[Alan
throws a real punch at Michaels belly, making contact.]
Michael: You twat!
[Michael
advances menacingly on Alan.]
Alan: Alright, hang on! I’m a guest! I’m a guest!
[17]
[Alan is
at reception, talking to Susan.]
Alan: I suppose you could apply the Ladyboy principle to the hotel. From the outside it looks like a two-star hotel, but you walk inside and voilà, it’s a three-star hotel.
Susan: Well, I do like to think that the service is five-star, Alan.
[Alan
looks unconvinced.]
Alan: I think Egon Ronay’d have a few words to say about that. He’d probably say, “no it’s not, it’s a three-star”, wouldn’t he?
Susan: How are you today, Alan?
Alan: Well. Well, mm. My ointment is fine, but as with all ointments I’m afraid there’s a fly in it. The ointment, by the way, is a corporate video, and the fly is my wife Carol, who, ironically, I want to be in the ointment stroke corporate video. Cow!
Susan: Erm, I’m afraid I’m not –
Alan: [Interrupting] Basically I’m saying there’s a cow in my ointment.
[18]
[Alan
sits in a Norwich beer garden, drinking with some men from Hamilton’s.]
Alan: [Noticing someone walk by] Ooh, superb backside at quarter to two.
[The
other men turn their heads in different directions, unsure of Alan’s
directions.]
[19]
[Alan
laughs with a group of people by the side of the canal, before the filming of
the Hamilton’s video.]
Man: Alan, your wife’s here.
Alan: Where? Where?
Man: [Nodding to another group of people] There.
[Alan
approaches the group cautiously.]
Alan: [Resting his hands on the shoulders of two women] Er… who’s my wife?
[Both
women look at him for a second, then one raises her arm.]
Wife: Oh, I think I’m your wife.
Alan: There you are! Yes, hello darling.
[Alan
leans over and eventually manages a very awkward kiss.]
Alan: Yeah. My wife. I didn’t recognise you with your…clothes on.
[The
rest of the group look a little uncomfortable. Alan opens his arms wide.]
Alan: Well, we’re married! There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? Nothing wrong at all.
Wife: Nothing wrong at all, lover. Talk about morning glory, he’s like a broom handle first thing.
[Alan
looks uncomfortable. He takes his ‘wife’s arm and leads her away.]
Alan: Come here. Come here.
[20]
[During the
Hamilton’s video, a shot of Alan and ‘wife’ leaving the barge. Alan leaps off
awkwardly, then offers his arm to the wife. They both walk towards camera down
the jetty for a few yards, then Alan stops and pretends to notice something in
the distance, pulling his wife back with him. They then continue to walk along
the jetty, Alan giving surreptitious directions. During this scene, a
voice-over is provided by Alan.]
Alan (V/O): It might look a bit poky from the outside, but a Hamilton’s boat is deceptively large. My wife and I found it actually offers the kind of luxury and comfort you’d normally associate with a good quality static caravan. Plus, if you don’t like the neighbours, you can either up anchor, head upstream, or, if you can garner enough support, confront them and persuade them to leave the area.
[A wider
angle shot now shows Alan and wife strolling down the jetty. The wife removes her
sailor’s hat and playfully tries to put it on Alan’s head. He beats her off,
irritated.]
Alan (V/O): This is my wife and I going off to the local marketplace, where we can buy anything from plimsolls to posters of famous Hollywood stars.
[21]
[Alan is
doing a piece to camera for the water breaks video. The back of a dummy wife is
in shot. Alan raises a glass of white wine to the dummy and smiles.]
Alan: One of the benefits of global warming and international terrorism is that more and more people are holidaying –
[The
dummy’s head has fallen off.]
Alan: [Irritated] Can we secure this, please?
[The
camera pulls back, and an assistant removes the headless dummy.]
[22]
[Alan is
dressed in a Popeye sailor suit, with a dummy wife at the wheel of the barge.
He is speaking to someone off-camera.]
Alan: Completely tax-free. And perfectly legal. It’s moored in Miami.
Steve: [Off-camera] Action!
[Alan
turns to camera.]
Alan: I’m Popeye Partridge! And while I risk life and limb by letting my wife, Olive Oyl, take the helm there, I’m going to build up my muscles with a can of spinach.
[An arm
reaches in shot and hands Alan a can of spinach. Alan makes a macho growl to
camera then attempts to empty the contents into his mouth. Most of the spinach
just piles up in his mouth, nearly choking him. Alan makes another, rather
nauseous, growl then spits the spinach out onto the floor.]
Alan: Sorry. In the cartoons it goes right down.
[23]
[Alan is
speaking to camera in the beer garden of a riverside pub, holding up a map of
East Anglia. Several menacing farmers lurk in the background.]
Alan: I suppose from outer space, East Anglia looks a little bit misshapen; grotesque, like the back of the Elephant Man’s head. But from down here, believe you me, it’s far more attractive. Alright, love?
[Alan takes
away the map to reveal an attractive blonde woman seated at a table behind.
Just then, one of the farmers breaks from his group and rugby-tackles Alan onto
the ground, with a cry of “You!”. Some of the crew wrestle the man off. As Alan
gets up, a concealed life-jacket hisses as it inflates around his neck.]
Steve: Jesus!
Alan: It’s
alright, it’s just my life-jacket being deployed. They’re just farmers,
there’ll be no problem with them anymore.
[24]
[Alan lies on his back on the barge, having been felled by a cow. He stares up at Lynn, who is seated overlooking him.]
Alan: Lynn, pull your skirt
down. I can see right up.
[There now follows four out-takes of Steve Coogan and Simon Greenall corpsing the scene with the chocolate mousse.]