Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa Page #8

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- Yeah. And what do you do with a bully?

You make friends with the bully

so they bully someone else.

- "What doth it profit a man..."

- Doth?

"..If he gains the whole world yet loses

his soul?" Matthew, chapter eight...

Yeah, I know who wrote it.

I'm not going to sell my soul, Lynn.

I want to, if you like,

lend my soul to Goredale Media

on a long-term basis for cash.

It's a very different thing.

I don't know how

you can look yourself in the eye.

I can't, Lynn. My nose is in the way.

You can talk,

prattling away on every news bulletin.

I mean, who the heck

do you think you are?

- I'm Lynn Benfield.

- You don't look like Lynn Benfield.

I mean, what has happened to you,

with your attitude and your hair?

You've literally become a big head.

- I like it.

- I take no pleasure in saying this, Lynn,

but a lot of people think it looks

like a photograph of an explosion.

I don't know if I want to

work for a man like you.

I don't know that I want to employ

someone who looks like a madam.

And I don't mean a Parisian one -

I mean, one who lives in a terraced

house behind a train station.

- Doors opening!

- Armed police! Armed police!

Oh, shut up, will you?

Stop shouting.

- Easy, Pat. Mind the steps.

- I'm able to walk down steps, all right?

He means because the gun's

against my head.

- Everybody has an opinion, huh?

- Hear, hear. Well said.

- On.

- Hi, Pat.

Hey, Alan. What happened?

We were in the middle of a show,

and then your arse is all

over the internet.

Looked like you had a turkey's head

between your legs.

No, it didn't. No, it didn't.

It doesn't have a beak.

And, yeah, I took an executive decision

to stow my cock and balls up

against my backside.

I can't believe you left

me with this nutcase.

Hang on a minute, you're

the one with the gun.

- See? He's hilarious.

- He's solid. He's solid.

- Pizzas coming through now, Pat.

- Hey. Hey, hey. Hold on. Helmet off.

Oh, hello.

Actually, I want Alan to bring them in.

That might not be possible, Pat.

Alan's not prepared to do that.

No... I am prepared to do that.

- It's not that simple.

- Do you want me to release some people?

Sure. Let's talk about that.

Alan, what do you reckon

if I let the women go?

Yeah, let a couple of the women go.

Maybe keep Angela.

- But her kids will be worried sick.

- She's got kids?

Yeah. Two boys, 14 and 15.

I believe they're a real handful.

Yeah, what was I thinking?

Let all the women go.

Pat, give me five minutes

with head office.

He's bringing them in now.

Alan, come on.

- Top one.

- Top one.

- Yeah, yeah, cheers, guys. Top one.

- OK, come on, son.

Oh, sh*t.

Why did you say hello

to that delivery guy?

Oh, him? No, he just reminded me

of a man I know called Mike Cable,

who did my accounts from '97 to '98.

Actually, no. '99.

Till he stopped

because his daughter was very ill.

Yeah, it was touch and go, actually.

He and Sandra were in bits,

they had to cancel their holiday.

- It was a y-drive to Tuscany.

- Hm.

I must tell him, actually, that there's

a policeman that looks just like him.

What's that?

Must tell Mike that there's a pizza man

who looks just like him.

I'm famished.

- Ladies, you're free to go.

- What?

- Yep.

- God bless you, Pat.

See you. Bye.

I'll make you a home-made pizza

when you get out.

Yeah, these pizzas are pretty good.

- Cinderella.

- Yeah, well...

No, hers was... that was

a glass one, wasn't it?

Here comes the Tin Man.

- Just trying to find your pizza.

- Well, just give me that one.

- Hm?

- That one.

- Which one?

- The top one.

Oh...

- I'll take the pizzas.

- Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Woo-ho, stuffed crust!

- Thanks for coming back, Alan.

- What are you doing?

- I'm just seeing how you'll look

on the billboard for when you start

on The Breakfast Show.

- The Breakfast Show?

- Alan, can I have a word?

Yeah, sure.

Just bringing the pizza cutter.

Right, how many do you want.

Six or eight?

Oh, my God, that's a taser!

This is no use, it's a pizza cutter.

And that is not a pizza.

Thing is, how did it get there?

Erm...

Unless the pizza company are running

a competition in which you win a taser.

That doesn't make sense, does it?

Do you realise, it's the police?

The ruddy po... Do you know... They've got

some brass neck for a bunch of coppers.

I'm actually really angry about that.

You should keep that as an extra weapon.

What kind of fool do you take me for, eh?

I'm one step ahead of all of you.

And I'm just a step behind you, mate.

- Ooh.

- Never take your eye off the ball, Pat.

First rule of business.

Second rule of business,

always be prepared for an opportunity

when it arises, like I was just then.

Yeah.

Course I wouldn't expect you to

understand that. It's Darwinian.

- You're a runt.

- Is that what you think, Alan?

I wouldn't quite, you

know, use those words.

Well, I think... I think...

The sort of the gist

of what, you know...

I just don't like bullies.

- Um... can I take this off, please?

- Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure.

- No, I'm talking to him.

- Oh, for f***'s sake.

- Yeah, go ahead.

- Thank you.

Are you all right?

Well, I was worried about the old head

but I think I've got a handle on it.

- Very witty.

- Alan's a smart cookie, Pat.

He's treated this whole crisis

like a business opportunity.

He's taken a look around him and he's

thought, "How can I make this work for me?"

- Well done, Alan.

- Cheers.

- Yeah, well done, Alan.

- Thank you.

You know, you and me,

we've got something going here.

Pat might be a dinosaur, filling his show

with chit-chat and phone-ins like it's 1983,

but you're one of us.

You know radio's just business.

You'll do well out of this.

And er... I'll get you a glamorous

assistant with big tits

to take over from that frumpy old cow

you've got at the moment.

You know, Mrs f***ing Doubtfire.

Danny, er...

Jason gave me your breakfast show.

- Yeah.

- Is that true?

- Well...

- Twat.

Oh, my God.

Go! Go! Go!

Armed police!

Armed police! Everybody stay down!

- Stay down! Don't move! Don't move!

- Have you got any scissors?

Have you got any scissors?

Armed police! Armed police!

Studio's empty. Where's Farrell?

Where's Partridge?

Roll out the barrel...

Get into position,

get in front of that bus!

We got three on a bus. Three on a bus.

I want a green light on a sniper now.

This cannot be happening.

Jeez, Alan. Look at this.

Quite alarming, isn't it?

Er... I think... I think we'll be fine.

Thanks for doing this, Alan. I wanted

to stick it to Goredale one more time.

I don't mind in the slightest, Pat.

Goredale are tits.

Right, coppers, I've got nae tax, nae

insurance and I'm not wearing a seatbelt.

What are you going to do about

it this time?

- Start the car! Start the car!

- Let's go!

Right, let's give them some stick.

You're listening to Pat and Alan

with a message for the Goredale Medias

of this world.

If you think you can take real DJs

and turn them into radio robots,

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