14 MP3 Audio clips from The Armstrong & Miller Show (II) (2007)

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World War II. These two RAF pilots are typically "plummy" but speak like modern-day teenagers. So, it's all "innit" and "harsh".

Airman #1

You still upset about that letter from home and sh*t?

Airman #2

Yeah, it's made me all depressed, like with issues around self-esteem issues, you know.

Airman #1

Go on, read it to me, blud.

Airman #2

Here goes. "All right, Biffy, wh'appen?"

Airman #1

- Classic opening.

Airman #2

Yes. "Listen, I met this geezer, yeah, and he's from America, or something, yeah? He's a GI or some sh*t like that. And he, like, buys me stuff and gives me chewing gum and all this. And this is him to me - 'I love you.' And then this is me to him - 'I love you, too.' Then I let him touch me up behind the Tooting Granada. Really sorry."

Airman #1

Oh, that's sh*t, man. That's a bad letter to get.

Airman #2

Yeah.

Airman #1

Especially from your dad.

Airman #2

You know what I'm saying. Mum is so gonna kill him.

Brabbins and Fyffe are loosely based on Flanders and Swann. They're classy English entertainers but their songs frequently descend into some pretty dark and disturbing territories.

Brabbins & Fyffe

♪
When it comes to affairs of the heart,
there's no accounting for taste.
Blonde or ging-er,
looker or minger,
they'll none of them go to waste.

Some men like the mysterious type,
others prefer them chatty,
and one man's glorious Rubenesque is another man's wanton fatty.

Life's a chocolate box selection,
but don't delve in search of love.
'Cos there's an overlooked confection,
in the abandoned layer above.

I like women over thirty,
a bit thicker round the middle and fuller in the bust.
They are much more likely to be dirty,
and pretty much do anything when overcome with lust.

There's something to be said for the gamier kind of bird,
they love a bit of stuffing and a spit roast's not unheard of.
So forget the young untutored and the frankly immature,
and why not give their mum a call?

I like women over sixty - Fyffe!,
I really shouldn't say it but it's true.
I often cop a feel when I'm out with meals on wheels and afterwards I...

[The programme is cut by the BBC censors and the test card appears]

Veal is Mr. Stafford's loyal servant. And the sh*t he has to put up with is frankly beyond belief. Forget household chores and silver spoon service, he has to go way above and beyond.

Veal

You rang, Mr Stafford?

Mr. Stafford

Ah, the very fellow. Once again, I find myself in need of your assistance, Veal. I fear I've got into a frightful chutney with a girl called Mary Gardner.

Veal

She's a scullery maid of Lord Dartmouth's, is she not, sir?

Mr. Stafford

Quite so, Veal.

Veal

Then I believe I can guess the nature of your difficulty.

Mr. Stafford

Good heavens! Can you?

Veal

Your Aunt Hilda instructed you to poach Miss Gardner for her own household staff, and in the process you've incurred the wrath of Lady Dartmouth and thus jeopardised the impending nuptials of Lord and Lady Dartmouth's daughter to your cousin, Horace.

Mr. Stafford

No, I shagged her senseless in the pantry a few weeks ago. Now the stupid b**ch is pregnant. And what's worse, the scaggy whore refuses to have an abortion. The damned cheek of it, Veal.

Veal

Right.

Mr. Stafford

Well, I feel a proper potato-neck, I don't mind telling you. So have her killed, there's a good chap.

Veal

Perhaps if sir were to disguise himself as an Abyssinian.

Mr. Stafford

No. Just have her killed.

Veal

Certainly, sir.

Mr. Stafford

Oh, and while you're out, a spot of heroin wouldn't go amiss.

Veal

Very good, sir.

If you've ever watched Time Team, you'll know that this sketch is based on Tony Robinson and Mick Aston. But you never hear Mick saying this on a dig.

Presenter

After two days of, frankly, not very much happening, Dr. Richard has discovered something in the north trench. I'm just off to speak to him now. Dr. Richard, I've just been told you've made a startling discovery.

Dr. Richard

Yes. Archaeology's [BLEEP] boring.

Howard. What the fu*k is wrong with Howard? Where does one even start with that? You'll see throughout the series that he's one very strange and sick individual.

Dan's Girlfriend

Honestly, you wouldn't believe some of the dodgy things that Dan's into. He's totally twisted.

Dan

Yeah, all right, okay, all right, I admit it... I'm a monster. Yeah, no, actually, having said that, I have got a thing about your gym socks. I don't know what it is.

Dan's Girlfriend

He has.

Woman

My ex was like that. What is it with you guys? He used to make me keep them on if I'd been running.

Dan

Yeah, well, it's a bloke thing. You know, we're all closet perverts.

Woman

Yeah, you big weirdos.

Howard

I'm a bit weird.

Woman

Oh, yeah. Really?

Howard

I like bunnies.

Woman

Here we go. Blokes and bunny girls.

Man

Strippers for ever.

Howard

No, I mean, like, actually bunnies. You know, real rabbits. I've got about thirty in a hutch in my garden. There's nothing like the brush of a rabbit's fur on your skin, you know, the soft tickle of its whiskers, and the way its coarse tongue gives you goose bumps every time it licks your nipples. I like to have two or three rabbits in the bed with me at night, pressed up against my naked back. And then I'll hold one of them really tightly at arm's length above me, you know, and squeeze it really hard until it sh*ts on me.

[There's stunned silence]

That a bit too weird?

Here we go again with another Brabbins and Fyffe number, this time about falling from a ladder and tearing a hole in your perineum. A strange topic for a song if ever I heard one.

Brabbins & Fyffe

♪
I thought the pinnacle of frustration,
in ceiling decoration,
was getting those flecks of white paint in your hair.
But the very devil stalks the land when you're up a ladder, brush in hand,
as now we know but then were not aware.

If the story we're about to tell might save another, then, very well,
I won't hold back on details - please take note.
You see, when painting up on high I got something in my eye, and I owe this disposition to that mote.

As Brabbins stepped down from the raise,
there was a parting of the ways,
and I did the most acrobatic splits you'll see.

But a music stand beneath got my best bits in its teeth,
as I graced it like the fairy on top of a tree.

You know that bit between your testicles and your anus?,
the bit that's sometimes covered in downy hair?
Well, there along the seam, the skin that's in between, had opened like the door to a beggar's lair.

The feeling left me reeling,
you'll never paint another ceiling,
I'll only ever perform at semi-lob.

Me bottom end's a wreck,
I've lost me lower deck,
and you've left me with a half-arsed job.

You know that bit between your testicles and your anus?
Indisputably the unloveliest body part.
Well, to summarise,
there's a hole between my thighs,
and I can achieve a fine vibrato when I fart.

It's Howard again. This time he's taking part in a group training session. You know where this is going, don't you? Yes. We all do.

Facilitator

Welcome, everyone. Now, before we get started, I like to play a little getting-to-know-you game. So, going round the group, I want you each to make two statements about yourself, preferably both of them quite surprising, one of which is true, okay, and one is a lie. So, go on, really throw me a curve ball. Kerry, do you mind starting?

Kerry

Oh, okay. Um... well, I've... I've been out with Brad Pitt. And... I've... swum with dolphins.

Facilitator

Oh, thank you, Kerry. Well, I don't think you'd have kept Brad to yourself for this long so I'm guessing that's the lie. Okay, Lee, one weird truth and one funny lie, please.

Lee

I once slept with Angelina Jolie and I have a pet rat.

Facilitator

Very good. Very good, Lee. I think we know which one's the lie there, don't we? Howard?

Howard

Oh, okay, um... I once slept with a Thai lady-boy... and I once slept with a Vietnamese lady-boy.

[There's an awkward silence]

Howard

Bit too weird?

Paul's father likes to think he's a "cool dad" but the fact is, he's seriously bad at parenting. I mean, who tells his thirteen-year-old son about tea-bagging and golden showers?

[It's the middle of the night and PAUL has knocked on his father's bedroom door]

Paul's Dad

Oh, what's up, fella?

Paul

I can't sleep.

Paul's Dad

Oh, come on, champ. Room for one more on top deck. Is something up? It's just sometimes when I can't sleep, it's because I've got something on my mind.

Paul

Well, Mark Wollason says that if you kiss a girl, you can get an STD.

Paul's Dad

Wow, did he now? Well, Mark Wollason, whoever he might be, is talking complete rubbish. You can't catch an STD from kissing. Kissing is the simplest, purest, most enjoyable pleasure a guy and a girl can share. Tea-bagging, that'll give you an STD. Yeah, as will bare-backing, gang-banging, gunk-holing, threes-ups and BJs, they'll definitely give you an STD. Spatchc*cking, pole-vaulting, Russell-Branding, spit-spooning... yeah, piggy-hunting, flanging, spam-junking and dog-collaring. Oddly enough, though, golden showers... absolutely fine. Urine, you see? Nature's antiseptic, and therefore completely safe to drink. Come on. We've got a big weekend ahead of us. You've got rugby practice in the morning. Night-night. Sleep well.

[He switches the light off without even waiting for PAUL to leave the room]

I've flown internationally and I've never been offered a blow-job by a stewardess. And I think it's the same for 99.9% of airline passengers. Alexander Armstrong is the 0.1%.

Stewardess

Chicken or blow job, sir?

Alexander

Sorry?

Stewardess

Would you like the chicken or the blow job?

Alexander

Er, blow job, please.

Stewardess

And for you, sir?

Ben

Chicken for me, please.

Stewardess

There you go.

Ben

Thanks.

Alexander

Actually, that... that does look rather good. Can I have the chicken as well?

Stewardess

Of course.

In this, the final instalment from Brabbins and Fyffe, they discuss dyslexia. I knew an atheist dyslexic once. He didn't believe in Dog. I thank you.

Brabbins & Fyffe

♪
A man of my acquaintance,
had much suffering related,
to an irritating problem with his speech.

Whereas most of us can say,
if we're not intoxicated,
that communication's well within our reach.

Now, this poor blighted soul,
fell so often in a hole,
it really was a most annoying trait.

He tried hard to get it fixed up,
but his letters got so mixed up,
and this is what we often heard him state.

"I'm a rpick, a cuffing rpick..."

[The BBC censor strikes again, cutting the broadcast just as it was getting interesting]

When your teenage son is struggling to deal with his first crush, there are ways of dealing with it. Sensitive ways. To suggest that he's ugly and possibly gay is not the best way to tackle the issue.

Paul's Father

Oh, what?! Offside! Yeah, thanks, ref! Did you see that, Paul? Something up? Come on. Something's bothering you. I can tell.

Paul

It's just...

Paul's Father

Come on, champ. I'm not just your dad, I'm your best mate, remember?

Paul

Well, there's... there's this girl at school.

Paul's Father

Oh, I was wondering when this was gonna happen. Go on.

Paul

Well, she was... she was smiling at me in class, so I sent her a text message. She hasn't sent one back.

Paul's Father

Oh, dear. What's her name?

Paul

Tilly Green.

Paul's Father

Tilly Green.

[Glancing at PAUL'S mobile phone]

Is that her?

Paul

Yeah.

Paul's Father

Let's have a look. Well, you see what your problem is there, Paul. She's way out of your league. I mean, let's face it, Tilly's no oil painting but she's clearly a six going on a seven, whereas you're more... what, a three, maybe four, at a push? You know? I mean, we could get your ears pinned back, hose you down with DermaKlenz every morning, but you're still gonna be fighting the basics. To be honest with you, Paul, mate, I'm not 100% convinced you're straight, anyhow. So before sticking your head in the oven, try pulling a couple round the other side of the wicket. Think about it. I mean, Elton John married a complete munter then he switched sides, pulled David Furnish! Worth thinking about.

Before the advent of DJs, the English nobility relied upon the services of a pianist to get their parties jumping. But this particular pianist is WAY ahead of his time. A hundred or so years ahead!

Guest

...caught it in a Turkish bordello. Of course, he's quite insane now.

Pianist

♪
I'm horny,
Horny, horny, horny.
I'm horny,
Horny, horny, horny.
I'm horny,
Horny, horny, horny.

[He glances around at the disapproving faces of the party guests]

Okay.

[He begins a new melody]

♪
Ride on time,
Da-da-na,
Do-do-do,
do-do-do,
Ride on time!
Do-do-do,
do-do-do,
You're such a hot temptation!
Do-do-do.

The party pianist strikes again. This time, he tries out the Electric Six classic "Gay Bar" but people of the early 1900s weren't ready for this kind of tune.

Male Guest

...yes, he drank twelve shots of absinthe then tried to swim the Channel.

Female Guest

...hypnotised into believing he was a steam locomotive. A very rum affair.

Male Guest

...all that was left was his top hat and his silk scarf. The rest was just dust.

Pianist

[Concludes his rendition of Greensleeves and starts playing a familiar pop melody]

♪
You, sir!
I want to take you to a gay bar.
I want to take you to a gay bar.
I want to take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!
You...

[He glances around but his audience are not amused]

No?

[Unperturbed, he continues]

♪
I got something to put in you!
Ahhh, in you!
I got something to put in you!

All right, one more ditty from Brabbins and Fyffe because we love our visitors so much. This one is about being gay. Or, rather, what Brabbins and Fyffe think it would be like to be gay.

Brabbins & Fyffe

♪
What must it be like to be gay?
In truth, I can't honestly say.
To me there's something silly,
about another man's willy,
that would really only get in the way.

What must it be like to be gay?
What do you do? How do you do it? What do you say?
In the bedroom do you toss a coin?
Or can you just assume,
that each of you will know exactly who does what to whom?

Better to give than to receive, they say.
I wonder if that's true when you're gay, when you're gay, when you're gay?!

It's not all about the bedroom when you're gay,
there's Liza Minnelli, old soaps on the telly and Ronnie Kray.

You get a lovely camp perspective,
on all sorts of things in life.
Interior design becomes a joy and not a strife.
And cottaging no longer means wet weekends with the wife,
when you're gay, when you're gay, when you're gay.

But let's be serious for a minute if we may.
It can't all be fun and laughter being gay.
Certain folks' intolerance puts a spanner in the works,
one suspects it's double bluffing, perhaps they're jealous of the perks.

'Cos you can drench yourself in sequins,
and party till it hurts,
when you're gay, when you're gay, when you're gay.