Boat That Rocked, The Page #3

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- Yeah.

I can't walk out of there stark-bollock naked

and walk back in fully clothed, can I?

Fine, okay, fine.

- Think smart.

- Right.

- You sure it's dark enough out there?

- Yes, it's pitch black.

The pope could walk in and poke her,

she would never know.

- I just wish I was a bit bigger.

- Why?

'Cause you're beefy, you know?

Can I come in? I need to wee.

- Yeah, hang on, hang on!

One second.

In here! Down there. Hurry! Just... Hurry up!

Come in.

What are you doing in here?

- Private man things.

- I could hear voices.

Disc jockeys are always practising

our patter.

Gosh, you're quite chunky, aren't you?

Am I? I mean, yeah!

Yeah, I suppose I am.

The girls seem to like it.

That's what I like about you.

You're a nice clean bird.

That's what you think.

No!

No way. Don't... Don't do that.

Don't dry your hands, I...

I love a girl with...

Wet hands.

You are strange.

Do you want to get down to it, then?

Just give me a second, will you?

I dunno if you can see, but I've got a bit

of nougat lodged in a molar at the back.

- Well, hurry up, lover boy.

- I will, lover girl.

Casanova.

But what about the size thing?

She said you were chunky.

Relax. Just find the right position

and it will all be over before she realises.

- Just be quick.

- I think you can be pretty sure

I'm gonna be quick.

I could see a lot of myself in you.

Come here.

It's a very special time.

Trousers.

I can do this. I just don't know where...

Hey, look at me. Enjoy it. Enjoy it.

- I'm not a virgin.

- Okay.

- I'm having second thoughts.

- Carl.

This is your destiny.

Hello, big boy.

No, wrong room! Sorry.

Come in.

- Sir?

- Yes.

- Very impressive references here.

- Thank you, sir.

Very unusual name.

Twatt?

And that's with two T's?

Have you heard of pirate radio, Twatt?

- Like Radio Rock, sir?

- Indeed, exactly like Radio Rock.

- Ever listened to it?

- Not often.

I'm not really a pop person.

I prefer classical music.

- Well, who doesn't?

- The listeners of Radio Rock, sir?

Precisely.

The drug-takers and the law breakers

and the bottom-bashing fornicators

of our recently great country.

Well, here's your little task.

I want Rock off the air in 12 months,

and I want you to be my private assassin.

Someone's gone!

No, don't want it!

All right.

But she did this wonderful thing,

where she put a tiny bit of ketchup...

Hi.

Sorry, man, but who are you?

Bob.

Smooth Bob.

Bob Silver, the Dawn Treader.

I do the early, early, early morning show.

You're Bob.

- Yeah.

- Good old Bob.

How long have you been on the boat, Bob?

Seven months.

Every morning, 3:00 a. m. To 6:00 a. m.

Well, then how come we've never met you?

Well, you know, I keep myself to myself.

A lot of sleep.

Fair amount of drugs.

A total immersion in the vinyl, you know?

Gotta listen to the music if you're gonna

give the people what they need.

In their heart and their soul. Yeah?

Better be getting back to the sounds, 'cause

it's a bit hectic in here.

So that's Bob?

Good old Bob.

That's Bob.

- Wry Sir Bob.

What was his name again?

Really?

So, young man, how's it going?

Well, sir, I think I may have had

a little breakthrough.

The pirate stations only exist

because they sell advertising.

Yes, you can listen to our pop music,

but only if you also buy

Findus Frozen Fish Fingers.

Exactly. So what we can do immediately

is make advertising on the stations illegal

for British companies.

We would cut off the boats' cash

with one fell swoop.

Brilliant.

I like you, Twatt.

Stop blowing the whistle, man,

we were chatting.

I have a very important announcement.

As you may know

there has been a serious squeeze put on our

advertisers by Her Majesty's Government.

This chart, thank you, John,

displays what's been happening to our

advertising revenue in the last few weeks.

- Ouch.

- So, I've had to stir myself

from my traditional languor

and do something to make the station

more attractive to new commercial partners.

Two years ago,

something terrible happened,

and we lost the greatest DJ

pirate radio has ever known to America,

ambition, and alcoholic poisoning.

And then something wonderful happened

and we got, in return, from America,

a man who proved more than capable

of filling those enormous shoes.

- Love our Count.

- I do my humble best.

And now, my friends, I have good news.

- Bad news, sir.

- Very good news.

Have you ever heard of Gavin Kavanagh?

No, I have not.

He's possibly the most famous

popular music broadcaster ever.

- Indeed, a strange and mysterious legend.

- And what about him?

- Well, sir, he's decided...

- To return.

No!

- Stop it!

Oh, my...

Three weeks today, Gavin Kavanagh

returns to rock on Radio Rock.

So?

So, it is more important than ever

to actually close the stations down.

Otherwise the advertisers will simply

flock back and pay their bills from abroad.

Well, what are we going to do, then?

We go, sir, for the jugular.

And this next song is dedicated to

the coolest man in the whole of the world,

and he's about to step onto this boat.

It is gorgeous Gavin Kavanagh,

and this week he's definitely number one!

Quentin.

Like the beard.

And you must be the Count.

I am he.

I wonder what that makes me, the king?

- Or the clown?

- Nice to meet you, sweetheart.

- All right, and you are?

- Felicity.

- Rules changed?

- I'm a lesbian.

- Groovy! Always or mostly?

- Absolutely always.

- So you say.

- No! Stop that.

Now, take me to my microphone.

I need to broadcast.

Let's go!

Are you doing something dirty?

Are you doing something

your parents don't know about?

Are you breaking the law?

Are you breaking the rules?

Open your knees and feel the breeze,

because Gavin's back to stay.

Now it's just you and me,

and I'm looking right up your skirt.

That feels so good.

That feels wonderful!

Listen to this.

This will make you moist.

Watch and learn, kids, watch and learn.

Buddy Holly.

This is Gavin, tweaking the nation's nipples!

So, join me tomorrow,

when I'll be playing definitive rock 'n' roll

here on Radio Rock.

Think of me when you come.

And now it's over to Jolly John.

For some more murders,

rapes and abductions, it's the news.

The news at midday.

In London...

- Twatt, Miss C. How is the jugular going?

- Slowly, sir.

Yes, I hear the arrival of Mr Kavanagh

has been followed

by the finding of a rash of new stations,

for God's sake.

- Yes, sir.

- Sort it out in a fortnight.

Find me a loophole in the law

so that I can make them all illegal

or you are both fired.

And when I say fired, I do not only mean

that you will lose your jobs.

I mean that you will never work again.

You disastrous, pathetic

ugly nobodies.

Jugular, my arse!

How about a little bit more Seekers?

Harold, I've just put another one straight on.

Double Seekers! Two!

You wanted to see me?

Yes, Carl!

Your birthday is coming

and I haven't got you a present yet.

It's difficult.

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