Drop the Dead Donkey (1990–1998): Season 6, Episode 2 - Beasts, Badgers and Bombshells - full transcript

Theme music plays

telephone rings

what is Gus playing at?

Does he call that grovelling?

The man is supposed to be
pleading for our jobs.

He's doing his best. He
should be on his knees

in front of sir roysten's son,
offering him the full Lewinsky.

Hell's bells!

This is all so unfair.

I mean, some of us are too
old to get jobs elsewhere.

Well, like Sally, everyone knows she...



Well, female presenters
are over the hill at 40.

Yes, well, at least this is going
to be my first millennium.

Morning, dole fodder.

And how come you're so sure

you won't be in the
72% getting the boot?

Oh, please. When a herd is being culled

they do not shoot the
youngest, fittest male.

They might do, if that
youngest and fittest male

had just been discovered at a white
house reception dressed in drag,

in the hope that Clinton
would make a pass at him.

It might have worked!

He offered me a cigar.

Hey, look, Gus is stepping up a gear.
Look at that body language.

Just these cuts, Roy.



Immensely satisfying though
it can be to fire people,

the thinking is, I mean... he chuckles

72% is...

Gus, look, my f-f-f...

..Father's empire is
experiencing a few blips.

And this week, he lost a fortune
on that new kiddies theme park

he's built on the banks of the severn.

Papier mache land.

So, only the profitable
segments can survive.

And your audience ratings
have been f-f-f...

F-f-favourable?

F-f-f-f...

Far better than expected!

Falling.

George hums happily

how come you're so calm?

Oh, I suppose I'm used to anxiety.

I'm always imagining
I'm about to be fired,

or die from some disease.

Or that a ten-megaton cruise missile

on its way to greenham is
going to skid off the road

and crash through the
wall of my bathroom.

Erm, that did happen, George.

Oh, yes.

Still, they did a lovely
job of the redecorating.

Where are you going?

Erm, I'm just doing a bit of
prep for my trip to cornwall.

I'm gonna be the first journalist
to film the beast of bodmin.

Ach, that's a total waste of resources.

I mean, what are the chances
of you seeing a live panther?

Very, very high.

Ok, media matadors, topical toreadors

and those other chaps who
throw the darty things...

Now, you may think I'm
just the boss' man,

who'd cut your throats in a
second if sir roysten asked me.

Which, of course, I would.

But I'm also one of you.

When I take my clothes off,
I too am naked underneath.

Except, of course, my underpants.

Yes.

Gus and I have reached an agreement.

If he can boost your ratings
by a minimum of 10%

within the next week, then I
will review these job cuts.

Yes! We'll be issuing a press
statement to that effect.

Please, sir roysten
is the man to thank.

The father who looks over us has
sent his only son to save us.

I didn't know Gus was
brought up religious.

Yeah, church of the
latter day bollocks.

Friends, we are witnessing
the birth of new globelink.

A place for people who are
bright, forceful and dynamic.

George tuts oh, no.

I've got that rash
inside my nostril again.

Morning!

He whistles

oh, morning, Damien.

I thought you were off to bodmin.

Yeah.

Yeah, erm, I just had to...
pick up a few things.

That's a big van.

Yeah, it's Gerry.

He wanted, erm, big cameras.

I've got a baby badger in this box.
Really?

From the set behind my house.

You see, he's the runt of the litter

and he's been abandoned
by the other badgers.

You shouldn't try to interfere
with nature, George.

The strong survive and
the weak go under.

That's not fair, though, is it?

That's the way it is.
Well, it shouldn't be.

I'm fed up of all the shouting
and bullying and backstabbing

by these badgers.

So I'm going to look after... Barry.

Catch you later.

Roaring inside van

what was that?

It's just Gerry.

He's doing his primal scream therapy.

Oh.

Gerry in van: 'Damien,
it's woken up. Ow!'

yeah, that's right, Gerry.

Let it out, just let it all out.

Animal roars, Damien roars

both continue roaring

Damien roars

'Damien, I need you to come here!'

it's fun, it's friendly.

It's breaking down the barriers
between you and the viewers.

You'll be just like them.

Then maybe I should be pig ignorant

about the bloody news, like they are.

Well, I'm happy to cooperate, Gus.

See, now why can't you be like Sally?

I can't afford the lobotomy.

Henry?

Maybe you should give Gus' idea a go.

Oh, not you as well!

I mean, obviously it is crass,
is stupid, and it won't work,

but what else is there?
That's the spirit!

The morons have triumphed!

The barbarians are banging
on the gates of Rome

and the poets have opened
their veins in their baths!

Oh, look, who gives a monkey's?

We'll all be fired sooner or later

and struggle to find other crap
jobs in other crap companies,

where we'll be patronised and
humiliated and touched up

until we become unemployable

and sink into poverty-stricken
incontinence,

senility and die.

Well, er...

..That's one point of view.

Have you really been touched up here?

Yeah! By that bloke,
briggsy, from publicity.

Briggsy?

The ginger bloke whose legs were
broken in that mystery hit-and-run?

That's the one.

Hello, there.

Ah, come in, come in!

Oh-ho-ho!

I'm sure you all recognise
Melissa cabriole.

Our new weather woman.

Welcome to new globelink.

Gus, there are limits.

We don't need some brain-dead bimbo.

No, we've already got one.

Are you a qualified meteorologist?

No, I'm a weathergirl.

I mean, are you properly
qualified in meteorology?

The study of... meteors?

Can I just say that I'm really
chuffed about working here?

Presenting the weather is
such a good career move.

Obviously my next step is to
be a people show presenter.

And then a post-modern cultural icon.

You do realise this dump
is going down the tubes

in a month's time? Oh,
that's all right,

by then I'll need some time off
to write my autobiography.

Jesus wept!

Morning, all.

Anyone want to have a
look at my badger?

Oh, that's right!

Just swan in here

and flaunt your bloody badger
in our faces, you bastard!

Ok, team, let's talk running orders.

Now, we'll lead with
our computer graphic.

A 3d closet.

The door opens, and out
pops Peter mandelson!

It's sad, but I never thought I'd
be put off sleeping with a woman

simply because she's stupid.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

It's the pretending to listen
that's so hard, isn't it?

Do you think those breasts are real?

Well, I've made rather a study
of this thing over the years.

And I say they're fakes. I dunno.

Look, that hint of horizontal
movement, I think they're natural.

No, no, you can tell,
she's got those, erm,

those water-filled pads.

What, those ones that make
that funny squelching noise

when you squeeze 'em? It's
very compulsive, isn't it?

I went out with this woman once,

couldn't resist squeezing her
breasts in time to the music.

She got a bit uppity,

and in the end she just walked
out of the memorial service.

Can you relax a little bit more, even?

Like this. Sally, relax...

I don't remember asking for that.

Now, joy, I need to speak
to you about your new role.

Should I slip some Prozac
in Sally's coffee?

No.

Globelink has to differentiate
itself from news at ten

and all that faceless technology.

I want lots of skating
backwards and forwards

with bits of paper, and
there's where you come in.

I want to you to keep dashing
in to Henry and Sally

with updates, live.

Why me? Well, because you're more
media-genic, viewer friendly

and you will appeal to
the male ab1s and 2s,

especially in these hot pants.

I would rather lick
Norman tebbit's scrotum.

Don't!

Don't drag scrotums into this.

You'll do as I say, missy, or...

Or what? Or I'll put you
on the secret blacklist.

I'll take out full page ads,

I'll post bulletins on the
Internet, all saying,

"do not employ this woman."

You'll be on zero income
for years and years.

Oof.

There you are, look.

Even with what looks to me like
a gossard underwired 36d...

There is still transverse wobble.

No, no, no, no.

Look at that lateral separation.

They're fakes.

I'll bet you.

You've given up betting. Oh, yeah.

George gave you 30 grand to
pay off your gambling debts.

Oh, my god!

You've been blowing it on
more bets, haven't you?

I'm on a lucky streak.

Oh, yes, of course,

you buy a lottery ticket, you give
it to George, he wins 60 grand.

How lucky can you get?

Yeah, but it was my luck that
chose the numbers, you see?

It would be stupid not to use some
of it for myself, I'm on a roll.

So, what will you bet on the breasts?

I'm not gambling on a pair of glands.

You're all talk.

Ok, 2,000 quid.

2,000 quid?

Yes, 2,000 quid.

All right, you're on.

Twat.

Then we've got live coverage

of the mr iron buns
competition from Amsterdam,

followed by nude curling from Finland.

Then we switched to a scathing
indictment of our society

by an investigation into illegal
dwarf throwing in billericay.

If that doesn't grab Percy
public by his private parts,

I'm a dancing bear.

Right. Sir roysten will love it.

Oh, yes, my loving f-f-f-f-father.

He is such f-fun.

Do you know, he's got this
charming little competition going

between me and my sister.
Ah, the lovely roystonia.

Whichever one of us can
demonstrate most ruthlessness

in their business dealings
gets to inherit the empire.

And the loser gets cut out of his
will and left totally penniless.

Gosh, I wish my father had
encouraged me like that.

Gerry: This thing hates me, Damien,

I can tell from its expression.
Look, it hates me.

Come on, Gerry, we've
gotta shoot this item

and then get him back to the
zoo before we get rumbled.

I'm not happy, Damien.

Will you shut up? It's a
dangerous animal, Damien.

Quickly, all right?

We start with a mid-shot, ok?

I do the beast of bodmin,
blah, blah, blah.

Then you pull focus way up the lane,

where you'll have tethered the panther.

Why have I got to tether the panther?

Because I'm allergic to cat fur!

Well, I'm allergic to panther teeth.

Come on, he won't bite,
he's done adverts.

Well, so has gazza, he bit me.

Panther growls listen to that!

Are you sure he's secure in that thing?

Yes, it's nice and sturdy,
I built it myself.

You built it your...

Oh, shit!

Panther roars, clattering

oh, no! What's that?

He's out, I know he's out!

He is not out. Don't encourage him.
What are you doing?

I'm getting out of here!
He's just a bit frisky.

He's not frisky, he's out.
I'm not coming out!

Give me the bloody camera!

Come on, I'll show you.

It's a killer, the way
it's looking at me.

I just know it's gonna have me.

It's page bloody one, Gerry.

The camera never li...

Oh, bloody hell, where's he gone?

This is definitely humiliating.

Ok, going for rehearsal in
five, and cue the background.

Cue Sally.

The prime minister today...

Cue joy.

Dynamic, dynamic, dynamic.
The three ds.

And we've just received this news.

His holiness, the pope,
died earlier today

when he overdosed on Viagra

during a bondage session
with ginger spice.

My god, I didn't know this!

Joy, I'll speak to you later.

Then into the headlines,
lots of smiles.

Then we go live to our hidden
cameras on the bandstand

on clapham common, and finally,
cue the "and finally".

And finally, a pet
duck called gypsy Lee

returned home today after
being lost for eight years.

Perhaps they should
rename her slow Lee.

Yes, Henry, she obviously
isn't a quick mover.

It's "quack mover".

Yes, that's what it
said on the autocue,

but it was obviously a mistake,

so I showed a great deal of quick
thinking and corrected it.

Quack mover.

That's the joke.

And the old guy didn't
sell his one at all.

Who, pray, is this?

Maybe you could say she
was pretty "a-grebe-d".

This is Brian beeching,

the comedy writer who I've hired
to gag up the "and finally" items.

He's written for the krankies,

Noel edmonds, tinky-winky.
All the greats.

A-grebe-d, do you see?

Like aggrieved, only with grebe in it.

It's a type of duck.

This isn't BBC two, George.

Ok, and cue the weather beam.

And as you can see,

it's raining in central
London right now.

Legs, we need to see her legs!

Well, if you do that
you'll lose the orkneys.

And the outlook is for a
wet and windy Wednesday.

So go out in your boats,
but not your coats.

No, it's go out in your
coats, not your boats.

Blimey, look at her, totally plastic.

It's like that time I worked with her.
What are you saying?

You think those breasts aren't real?

No, I was just saying that...
Well, then, just shut up.

Oh, Gus, look at her tits hanging out,

I mean, this is turning us
into a soft porn channel.

Loosen up, it's only
a semi-naked woman.

You and your people should enjoy it.

Gerry: Can't we just go home? Relax!

When the panther comes, I'll
tranquilize him with this.

It's not very fair on the
goat, though, is it?

Life isn't fair, Gerry!

Is it fair that I'm 33, and
that I'm a star reporter

chained to the rotten
corpse of globelink news?

Is it fair?

Gerry?

Just keep very, very still.

It's behind me, isn't it?

No sudden...

Gerry screams

just hang on to the camera,
Gerry, don't worry!

Who's going to be a big, strong badger?

Yes, you are.

I have just received a
letter from some perv,

addressed to the "raven-haired
beauty in the spangly hot pants".

That's the price of fame, joy.

I once had some
degenerate offer me £500

for a used pair of my knickers.
Oh, that's just sick.

And what's more, his cheque bounced.

Well done, weather babe. Your
picture's on page seven.

Wearing only a small cloud.

But it's a career path you
can't neglect, Helen.

The teenage masturbaters of today

are the television
executives of tomorrow.

So, er, what's the weather wizard
got in store for us today?

Ooh, a bit of a Gale.

How about doing your
report from the roof?

It'll be nice and windy
and visual up there.

Oh, I know, I'll wear a
dress that'll blow up

just like Marilyn Monroe.

In fact, I could do
it as Marilyn Monroe.

And each day you could
present the weather

as one of the world's sexiest women.

Mm! Marilyn Monroe, Sharon stone.
Teresa gorman.

Melissa, hi. There's a
question I need to ask you.

Oh, I'm sorry, Dave,

but I only go out with
chefs and footballers.

No, actually, what I wanted to ask was

appertaining to your,
erm, your look. Mm.

I'm sorry, I'm just
gonna have to ask this.

Are your breasts all your own?

Of course not.

In fact, I'm having them
resculpted next month.

I think that aggressive pointy
look's a bit early '90s, don't you?

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Gosh, you really are a
big natural breast man.

Sorry.

Gus, you haven't seen
my badger, have you?

Barry?

Only I seem to have lost him.

Oh, I get to you.

So we use that as a heart-warming
"and finally" item.

When Barry the badger bolted today,

journalists organised
round-the-Brock search parties.

No, actually, I... perhaps we could
have it run across the news desk

during the broadcast. Clever
publicity stunt, George.

Glad to see you're finally
getting on the bus.

All I want to know is, has
anyone seen my badger?

Yes, there it is.

It's turned orange, and it's
on top of Henry's head.

Hold the front page and
get that bafta ready.

For I, Damien day, have recap...
Have captured the beast of bodmin.

He's chained up in the van downstairs.

Brilliant! So the old Jurassic
park ruse worked, then?

He was attracted by the
smell of the goat.

No, actually, he was attracted
by the smell of Gerry.

But it's ok, I mean, Gerry
wouldn't have felt a thing.

Not after I accidentally shot
him with a tranquilizer dart.

Well, darts.

Oh, for god's... quiet,
everyone, please.

It's weather babe's hourly update.

Wind whistles

and the winds will be
gusting at 50 or 60mph

particularly on high, exposed areas.

And it should be reaching
its height well, about now.

Now there's quality!

Gus, ratings.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Up 10.22%.

Roy, Roy, have you seen these?

We've done it, together, up 10.22%.

Well, isn't that just wonderful?
It's very good, Gus.

And I've come to tell
you that we've decided

not to implement the staff
cuts as we discussed...

..Because we're closing
down the whole company.

This place has been sold off.

The final broadcast will
be five weeks today.

After that, globelink
news will cease to exist.

And the entire facility

will be taken over by a
home shopping channel.

Any questions?

Will we get a discount on
the home shopping channel?

Screaming

I've got a question. Why
are you videoing all this?

Just to show you how tough I can be.

So, erm... when did you know you
were going to close us down?

Well, it was your rescue plan
that made my mind up actually.

It meant that globelink's share
prices rallied for a moment,

so I realised that was our
only opportunity to sell.

I bet roystonia has never
been more ruthless.

Just wait till I show this to my,

f-f-f...

Fucking dad!

I, er...

I...

So, that's it, then?

Finished.

Yeah, what a knock-back, eh?

Er, you're still gonna use my
panther story, though, aren't you?

What's the point?

There may not be any point for you,
but with globelink closing down,

that story's a great
calling card for me.

Tough.

Oh, I'll get you for this, hedges.

You just get in the queue.

I have been made to wear humiliating
'70s clothing on wheels,

I've had letters from deviants...

Gus wails

what you've suffered is nothing!

Where's my life gone?

What am I going to do now?

Gus' life is like a broken
pencil, completely pointless.

Oof!

Thank you, Henry.

Oh, she seems to be
making the most of it.

She's an exclusive for nearly
all the first editions.

Ah, wearing a bikini in an oxygen tent.

He laughs

close globelink down!

It's a joke, see?

Good old eccentric sir roysten.

Terrific sense of humour.

I remember when he had me hogtied,

covered in bolognese sauce and
dipped in his piranha tank,

just to cheer up some
Japanese businessmen.

He'll return my call in
a minute, you'll see.

Found him!

He was nesting in Henry's truss.

Would you two like to wait
for roysten's call with me?

Oh, no, thank you, Gus.

I'm gonna go home, run
myself a relaxing bath,

climb in, sit back and slash my wrists.

Night!

Would you like to stroke my badger?

Thank you, but, no, I have
to ring sir roysten again.

His answerphone's on,

but I ring him every 30
seconds just in case.

I'm taking Barry to the
sanctuary at the weekend.

You have to learn to let go, don't you?

Mm.

Would you like to help me
chop up these lugworms?

I know!

I can send him a fax!

Gus chuckles problem solved.

Gus chuckles

I brought in my moulinex.

Oh, there's another here from joy.

"Dear Gus, further to our
conversation this afternoon,

"there is a live panther
in your office."

Growling