Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa Page #7

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- Nicholas in Weybourne.

- Nurses were better in the old days.

- Bull's-eye.

They used to be these Florence

Nightingale type figures.

These days it's just, you know,

short-haired women in trousers

washing their own hands at a sink.

Later on, I'll be asking which vegetable

has the greatest torsional strength -

ie, which can withstand the greatest

twisting load before rupture?

- Caroline in Sprowston.

- Beards were better in the olden days.

- Love it.

- Sebastian in Holt.

- UK manufacturing.

- Good. Good, but dull.

- Paul in East Runton.

- Kill 'em all, Pat.

Shoot the women first.

We'll also be asking, have you ever met

a genuinely clever bus driver?

I wonder what the listening

figures are for this.

Yeah. Can you stop drumming?

OK. Time for fact of the day.

Fact of the day.

Sponsored by Norfolk Dairies.

- Cows don't have hymens.

- Absolutely correct.

Cows do not have hymens,

just a partially opened cervix.

The time is 10:
22.

Right now, to your muster stations.

It's Bryan Ferry.

Let's Stick Together

Ah... that was... that was er...

- Very good.

- Yeah. Radio gravy.

Wow.

I suppose you forget about the

gun after a while, don't you?

- No, I don't.

- OK.

Good.

Lynn! Lynn Benfield, can we have a word?

Oh, Alan doesn't like me

speaking to the press.

- We're not press. We're television.

- Well, I'm... I'm not really...

We've got hair and make-up.

Oh!

Back now to Norwich

where DJ Alan Partridge

- continues to bring news of the radio...

- Ah, Angela?

- Someone wants a word with you.

- Who?

Him.

Tensions on the Korean

peninsula continue...

- Why?

- ...following Kim Jong-il...

Oh... sh*t.

- .. Vegas, I was doing kind of...

..for anyone's price range...

...mounting tensions in North...

...erectile dysfunction...

- Inside, Partridge seems unfazed...

- Ah, him.

- Me on TV. Good photo.

- He tried instead

to calm the gunman by

joining him in the studio.

Yes, just your basic disabled loo.

You've got your lowered seat pan, back pad,

high-vis grab bar, panic cord, lady bin.

Alan, calm down. You're

being all hectic.

This is because you're on TV, isn't it?

You're all puffed up like a robin.

It's like you can see in me.

Alan, you didn't bring me in here to talk

about disabled toilet facilities, did you?

Yeah, I did. No, I didn't.

Oh, wow. Lynn, you look fantastic.

Good gracious.

I'm sorry about the nasal whistle.

It's when I'm anxious.

You know... You know,

"Shape - the way you want it to be"?

- Yeah?

- Your shape's the way I want it to be.

I'm on about your body.

- What might this be?

- That... is my damned todger.

And it's all the fault of

a certain Miss Angela...

I'm sorry, I don't

know your second name.

He's very brave.

He was once feeding ducks in the park.

One took a peck at him and

instead of retreating,

- he hit it with the back of his hand.

- DJ Alan Partridge...

- Hi. You got time for a quick wah-wah?

- What?

- Quick wah-wah.

- Oh, you mean "wa-wa"?

- Yeah. Yeah.

- Sorry. You just did a different noise.

- Sorry.

Look... how are you feeling about this

whole media circus? How you feeling?

Between you and me, pretty puffed up.

- Like an owl.

- Let's hope you're a wise one.

Nice. I pitched it up,

you knocked it out of the park.

Synergy. Oh, no, that's lesbians.

Let me tell you something, Alan.

As far as the press is concerned,

you are the face of this siege.

- I am siege face.

- Exactly.

After this, you'll get more offers

than a whore at our Christmas party.

I like that. Yeah, I like that.

- Yeah.

- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

You'd know a thing or two about that,

wouldn't you?

That would be... "Mm-hm. Hmm," he says.

That's a moustache.

Seriously, did you give her one?

Well, I... I gave her a ruddy big kiss

she won't forget in a hurry.

Hand on the outside of the bra.

Er... you know, reconnaissance.

And then I just held her in my arms because she

told me she never knew her mother, and I said,

"Well, my mother raised me

and lived to a ripe old age.

But guess what?

I never really knew her."

Erm... and...

To get back on track, erm...

Yeah, I mean... Yeah, whoo!

- I like you.

- I like you.

He likes me, Lynn. Jason

Tresswell likes me.

- Alan? Are you OK?

- I've got to be quick.

Pat thinks I've borrowed his phone

to play Angry Birds.

- Of course. What is it?

- A computerised bird-throwing game.

- No, I meant...

- I'm joking, Lynn.

Enjoy me. Everyone else is.

Goredale Media think

I'm some sort of Christ 2.0.

Do you know, I'm within a brair's headth

of getting the breakfast show.

I'll call myself the Morning Rooster,

or the Talking Cock.

- You're not thinking clearly.

- Yes, I am.

Lynn, I'll say this once

and I'll say it again.

My career's getting a shot in the arm and

if I can stay in here to the bitter end,

I will be the biggest thing to come out

of Norwich since... Lord Nelson or Trisha.

Think about that and what that means.

Your priority is the

welfare of the hostages.

Good - put that out as a press release

and say I said it.

Alan, your ego's getting

the better of you.

I've just got to stay alert and focused.

I'm playing them like an oboe, Lynn.

How effed up is that?

- Alan? Alan?

- Oh...

Ohh! Christ's sake.

Not now. Oh, God.

I'm caught on the latch.

Oh, come on. Please.

Stop, armed police!

Get your hands above your head.

- I've just got...

- Get your hands above your head!

- I want to get those trousers.

- Do it! Hands above your head.

- They're my trousers.

- Get your hands above your head now!

What are you doing? It's weird.

There are paparazzi all over the place

and I do not want them

to get a photograph of my genitals.

- Oh, come on!

- That's it, look at me.

And how were the hostages when you left?

- Crouched.

- I mean, what's their state of mind?

Oh. Er... If I'm honest, a bit moany.

Yeah. Is someone writing this down?

- Yeah.

- Sorry. I thought you were some clothes.

Thanks for the forensic

trousers, by the way.

- Could you just um...?

- Crikey. Yeah, sorry.

I was actually going to fashion a

sort of make-shift modesty sporran

from the vacant arm flaps.

OK, I think we're done here.

Any chance of freshening up? I just need

to wipe my face with a big hot towel.

Presumably you wanna use me

as part of your media strat?

No.

- Do you agree?

- 100 per cent.

Gotcha.

The police said you could do media

interviews when the siege is over.

It will be too late then, Lynn. People

move on. Goredale Media will move on.

But you're still being talked about.

Only cos every time I look at the telly,

they're showing a picture of my arse.

It's all right for you. Every other time I

look, they show a picture of your face.

And then the next time -

surprise, surprise, my arse again.

I was only telling people about you.

You know, I was Goredale's golden goose,

and now I'm just Partridge pie, with peas.

But why do you want to work

for people like that?

- Goredale are bullies.

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