And when you walking dog; "Click, here boy!" Call the children
over, pat his head; "No, he won't bite." But they all scream and
run, befreaked by crusty flaps of skin, dried semen, teeth and hair that
you've been dragging round since you unlocked the shed and found him eyeless,
stiff and putrid after seven months of careless oublier. Then welcome,
mmm, oo huxterpaz welcome, in Blue Jam, Blue Jam, Blue Jam, Blue Jam, Blue
Jam, Blue Jam, Blue Jam...
Josh Beltash: Yeah, my name's Josh Beltash. I've been in a wheelchair for just over three years. I get by. I make quite a lot of inventions for myself. I made a little pantograph lift that'll take me up and down for the right level for the sink, but I think that this has got to be the best. That wheelchair will do best part of seventy mile an hour. More into seventy-two, we clocked it on the bypass, Gabriel timed me and, er, I reckon we could do eighty on a good day. But I'm not really a speed king myself, you know, so I'm going to give it away to Stephen Hawking, 'cause he's coming to London on June the second to do a talk, and Gabriel and me have got backstage passes. So when Hawking comes out into the car park for a piss, like he normally does before he gives his speech, we're going to jump him. Gabriel is going to bundle him in the van; we're going to drive up to an old airfield in Bedford and we're going to give the little fucker the ride of his life!
I thought these would be appropriate wear for it. I've always
seen him as a bit of a Brandoesque kind of a figure, so Gabe's going to
thread him in the van. I reckon with a fair wind we could probably
get him to do a hundred. We're going to film it on video. I'm
not going to all that trouble just to see it once! And that will
also help us shut him up, 'cause we're going to film him with his cock
out, so if he ever does get any ideas about talking to anybody about it,
he knows what we're going to do with the pictures. Fucking jumped
up little spider!
American Man: We just saw this guy right here yesterday on the sidewalk,
and he was sitting in a rubber dinghy with er, like oxygen tanks on his
back and a frogsuit, and he had his feet in the boat and his back to a
puddle. And he just threw himself over backwards, went smack down
on the road, picked himself up, went back and sat in the boat and did the
same thing again, just came out smack into the puddle. I don't know,
I guess he must have just thought he could dive in. But we watched
him do it about five or six times, then we just had to go. I don't
know what happened to him.
Doctor: Come in.
[FX DOOR OPENS]
Mother: Come on!
Steffi: Is that the doctor?
Mother: That's right!
Doctor: Ah, yes do have a seat... [FX DOOR CLOSES] My God, what is that?
Mother: What?
Doctor: That funny little woman thing next to you!
Mother: This is Steffi.
Doctor: What do you mean, "This is Steffi"?
Mother: Ummm, we've come about her rash.
Doctor: It is real, is it?
Mother: What do you mean?
Doctor: Well, it's so small! What is it?
Mother: She's a child.
Doctor: It's a bit like a dwarf, but...
Steffi: Mummy, the man's staring at me!
Doctor: ...sort of weirder.
Mother: It's all right, darling.
Doctor: I'd have thought you'd be used to people staring, whatever you are!
Steffi: Mummy?
Mother: All right.
Doctor: Where'd you get it?
Mother: She is my daughter.
Doctor: No! I've seen daughters, they're bigger than that.
Mother: Sorry?
Doctor: Well, Mrs. Flint's daughter. She's twice the size of that thing!
Mother: She's a child!
Doctor: Looks like a dwarf to me, except with a smaller head. Sort of on the way to being a pinhead. Pinhead dwarf, that's what it is!
Mother: Doctor, could you look at her rash, please?
Doctor: I'd be more worried about her size. Feed her up a bit. Get her to do some exercise.
Mother: Doctor, she's got a rash! She's been sick every night for a week, she's a perfectly normal child, and I would like it if you would please just..!
Doctor: All right, all right! I'll have a look, but I'll tell you, whatever she's got, it's nothing compared to her size problem. Now, this isn't some sort of prank, is it?
Mother: No!
Doctor: Hmmm. If you're recording this, I haven't fallen for it! I'm just looking at the little freak to keep the woman happy. Right. Look, I don't know what you really are, but this woman says that you've got a rash.
Steffi: It's itchy.
Doctor: Is this for real?
Mother: Yes!
Doctor: Right, so you have got a rash, have you?
Steffi: My rash is itchy.
Doctor: Look, I can't take you seriously unless you speak in a lower voice.
Mother: Doctor, please will you just..!
Doctor: It's like talking to an insect! Can you speak in a lower voice?
Steffi (in a lower voice): I think I can.
Doctor: Right. Do you have any allergies?
Steffi: Don't know.
Doctor: Have you been in contact with any irritants? Chemical irritants? Enzymes?
Steffi: What's an ittitant?
Doctor: Look, do you use biological washing power?
Mother: Doctor, I really don't think she knows..!
Doctor: I'm sorry, I can't get anything out of this one. It seems to have a damaged intelligence.
Mother: She's three years old!
Doctor: I'd have it checked. I don't want to alarm you, but it could actually be dangerous.
Mother: What?
Doctor: I keep seeing a funny look in its eye.
Mother: No, doctor, I'm really not happy about this. I'm sorry, I'd like to...
Doctor: Well, I'll get a second opinion if you want...
[FX TELEPHONE RECEIVER PICKED UP] [FX NUMBER DIALLED ON TOUCHPAD]
Mother: Right.
Doctor (to Alison): Ah, Alison. Could you pop through a second? I've got something very odd I'd like to show you. [FX RECEIVER IS REPLACED] (to Mother) Doctor Basingstoke's very good with mental midgets.
Mother: No! Doctor, I'm sorry! I'm really..!
[FX DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES]
Doctor: Ah, Alison! Just have a look at this little freakball!
Mother: Hi!
Alison (to Steffi): Hello, love!
Doctor: Right. What do you make of that? Some kind of pinhead dwarf.
Alison: Michael!
Steffi: Hello.
Doctor: Check the voice out, it sounds like a chicken!
Alison: Michael, it's a three year-old.
Doctor: Oh, not you as well!
Alison: I'm terribly sorry...
Doctor: This is definitely a wind-up!
Alison: ...if you just pop through to reception, we'll fix you up with another appointment.
Doctor: Shit! I should have spotted it straight away.
[FX DOOR OPENS]
Alison: Sorry.
Mother and Steffi EXIT
Doctor: I don't think it quite worked, actually. [FX DOOR CLOSES] It didn't work, Alison!
Alison: I'll talk to you later, Michael!
Doctor: They won't have very good footage!
Alison: Michael, later!
Alison EXITS
Doctor: Oh, I can never tell with you, Alison. You're too bloody good at secrets! [FX DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES] (to room) Where are you, then? Aren't you supposed to come out, now? You bastards!
[FX TELEPHONE RECEIVER IS PICKED UP] [FX NUMBER DIALLED ON TOUCHPAD]
Ah, Sarah. Is there anyone out there waiting to jump at me? No, it's nothing, no. Why are you laughing?
[FX HANDSET IS REPLACED]
(to room) Hello? Hello? Bloody idiots! I think
you're all bloody idiots!
Man: He came on to the first floor balcony, I could see him from here.
He climbed up onto the railing and held his arms out and, er, fell off.
Smacked down on to the terrace, picked himself up, crawled inside.
Minute later he came back out on the balcony again, held his arms out,
threw himself off. People didn't really want to interrupt him, seemed
a sort of private thing, and after about thirty jumps he was really badly
broken up. People had to help him inside. It took him longer
and longer to get back up to the balcony. I wasn't counting exactly,
but after about forty-five jumps he just didn't get up any more.
Somebody had actually asked him what he was doing, and he said rather than
jump off a fifty-storey building, he'd rather jump of one storey fifty
times, in case he wanted to change his mind, but he didn't.
Woman: Sod power! More sod power!
Man: Yeah! Could you inflate my balls slightly? Oh! Thanks! Now some muff yaps.
Woman: Mmmm?
Man: Muff yaps. Yes, make your muff yap... [FX MUFF YAPS] Mmmm, Chihuahua! Hello, little fellow! Now do the gruff retriever. [FX MUFF YAPS] Mmmm, yes! Good boy! Mmmm, good boy! Mmmm, you barking twat! Now, launch me on a geyser of piss!
Woman: Get your chest in the snatch plane!
Man: Come on! Levitate me! [FX VIOLENT URINATION] Arrrrgggghhh! [FX MAN SMASHES AGAINST FAR BEDROOM WALL] Oh, God! That was powerful!
Woman: Madhur Jaffrey!
Man: Oh yes...
Woman: Madhur Jaffrey!
Man: Oh my goodness yes! Oh yes, oh excellent! Oh, slippy, slippy, very slippy! Oh my goodness, that is so good in the cock...
[FX KNOCKING ON DOOR]
Woman: Come in! It's my dad, he's got to go to work.
[FX DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES]
Dad: Morning!
Man: ...morning...
Dad: You can shove your balls right in, she's got a very wide one.
Man: Sorry?
Dad: Carry on!
Dad EXITS
[FX DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES]
Woman: Carry on!
Man: I can't now, I've lost it!
Woman: Fuck! Dad!
Dad (from next room): Yes?
Woman: You've put him off, he's gone all soft!
Dad (from next room): Sorry!
Woman: Fucking hell!
[FX DOOR OPENS]
Dad: Do you want me to firm him up again for you?
Woman: No thanks!
Dad: Ok, see you this evening!
Dad EXITS
[FX DOOR CLOSES]
Woman: Awww....
Performance Artist: Thank you. Thank you very much. Now, clearly what I'm about to do can only be done once. It is being recorded as you can see on video and multiple sound sources, but the substance of this piece will be whatever I can manage to say after the single piano note has sounded and the guillotine has severed my head. Thank you.
[FX LARGE AUDIENCE APPLAUDS]
Performance Artist: OK?
[FX PIANO PLAYS HIGH 'C']
[FX GUILLOTINE FALLS]
[FX LARGE AUDIENCE GASPS IN HORROR AND AMAZEMENT]
Performance Artist: Oh, well! That wasn't too bad, actually! I thought that it was going to be much worse than that...(voice gurgles and chokes off).
Audience Member: Oh, yeah!
[FX LARGE AUDIENCE OFFERS RAPTUROUS APPLAUSE]
Jennifer: I love to eat fresh turbot. I think great! Somebody else can, you know, do the boning and the filleting and all the rest of it.
David Bowie: Ha ha ha! Of course, you know these are wild turbot, they're not the farmed ones...
Richard: Is that right?
David Bowie: Yeah. They're fed on proper Benthic kelp. You can actually taste it in the fins.
Richard: Yeah, there was something in the fins. It was quite distinct.
David Bowie: Absolutely first rate wine as well.
Richard: Yes, it makes a change from the Chablis.
David Bowie (voice over): Well, it's something that I like to do when I'm not recording, or my schedule is a bit light. I basically host romantic dinners for couples.
David Bowie: I've never been a fan of Rosé, but this is delicious.
Jennifer: Oh, it's gorgeous!
David Bowie: It's such a teeny bit Petion.
David Bowie (voice over): Maybe one's taking the other one out for their birthday or an anniversary, and my job is to make sure that they have a wonderful evening.
David Bowie: Now, I want to take you back to that fabulous holiday in Kenya in 1993.
Jennifer: Oh!
David Bowie: Yeah? You were both knocked out by the wildlife...
Jennifer: Yeah.
David Bowie: ...and really enjoying each other's company!
Richard: Yep!
David Bowie: Right?
Jennifer: Yeah!
David Bowie: Does it ever get any better than that?
Jennifer: I don't think it does...
Richard: Yes, I think perhaps it doesn't.
David Bowie (voice over): I do quite a lot of research. You can't just rely on your own people power, however good it is.
David Bowie: Sounds great! So what did you get up to?
Jennifer: Oh, we, er...
Richard: There was all the safaris, of course...
Jennifer: That's right. And, er, did some painting...
David Bowie: I guess yours would be...watercolours?
Jennifer: Yes! You know, nothing special. I just tried to paint what I see, you know...
David Bowie: You cannot beat a simple representational watercolour.
Jennifer: Well, yes, I think you're right!
Richard: Not unless you have a camera.
Jennifer: Richard!
David Bowie: Miaow, Richard, eh?
David Bowie (voice over): It involves the art of friendly conversation, always in a relaxed style.
David Bowie: Better watch out you don't cut yourself with that tongue! Any plans for next year?
David Bowie (voice over): Sometimes I even get the opportunity to iron out one or two of the creases between the two of them.
Richard: The main thing, I think, is going to be selling the house in Oxford.
Jennifer: Well...
David Bowie: Yes. Bit of a tricky one this, isn't it?
Jennifer: Yeah.
Richard: Well. I mean, Jennifer doesn't want to sell it and I do.
David Bowie: Do you mind if I just weigh in on a couple of points on this one?
Richard: Sure, but I think that it's really pretty simple. Now the kids have left home it's really not required.
David Bowie: What about grandchildren?
Jennifer: That's what I think.
Richard: Well, now that's Jennifer's argument.
David Bowie: You know, five year's time, I can see them tearing helter-skelter around the fields, frolicking by the weir in the summer. Imagine that?
Richard: Well, it's a lovely thought...
David Bowie: There is also quite a strong commercial incentive. Smart word is that property in that area is set to quadruple in value over the next five years.
Richard: Really?
Jennifer: Really?
David Bowie: Put that in to the picture, and I think that it becomes a pretty countervailing argument.
Richard: What, I should just cave in to Jennifer?
David Bowie: Oh no, no, no! Heaven forbid! I'm not saying that, I'm just suggesting that you hold off for, say, five years, yeah?
Richard: Well, I can't see much wrong with that, if you're right, David?
David Bowie: Believe me (sings) I'm right!
Richard: Well then, why not?
Jennifer: Oh, Richard, yes!
David Bowie: Nice one. Wonderful agreement, super stuff! There you go! Richard, ciao!
Richard: Ciao!
Jennifer: Bye!
Richard: Thanks, David!
Jennifer: Thanks.
David Bowie: Oh! Keep the love! No, seriously, keep the love.
Jennifer: OK!
Richard: Isn't that marvellous?
Richard and Jennifer EXIT
David Bowie (voice over): I do it because I'm good at it, and I'm genuinely
interested in people. Just in the day-to-day workings of their interactions.
No two are ever the same. Interpersonal dynamics are the world's
greatest renewable resource. It's like a self-generating art form.
Negotiator: I'm sorry, can you repeat?
Mr. Korvac: Why are you surrounding us with tanks and helicopters and gas?
Negotiator: We have documented proof that you are harbouring idiots.
Mr. Korvac: Well I don't know where you got that!
Negotiator: We have aeriel surveillance pictures that show a man running across your compound, and he's clearly an idiot!
Mr. Korvac: There are no idiots on this compound.
Negotiator: Will you save your breath, Mr. Korvac!
Mr. Korvac: We are not harbouring any idiots!
Negotiator: These are affirmative idiot recognition data!
Mr. Korvac: We are not armed. You have been trying to plant idiots on us all week!
Negotiator: That is not true!
Mr. Korvac: We saw you release a guy who was definitely an idiot out of a horsebox, and he ran into the compound, straight through it and out the other side!
Negotiator: Don't play games now, Mr. Korvac! There are lives at stake here, and you know...
Mr. Korvac: I know! I know there are fucking lives at stake here, man! Jesus Christ, that's what I've been trying to tell you!
Negotiator: Mr. Korvac...
Mr. Korvac: You've been shooting the fuck out of us because we've been harbouring idiots, and you won't listen when I say we're not!
Negotiator: Mr. Korvac, please! This is being broadcast on television!
Mr. Korvac: I understand the use of profanity here, but for once will you just listen to what we're saying! We have no idiots, sir! We have no idiots here!
Negotiator: I can hear your idiots! Listen to them!
Mr. Korvac: Jesus Christ, we have no idiots!
Negotiator: Listen to your idiots all you fucking want! [FX PLAYS TAPE OF IDIOTS GIBBERING] Fucking bunch of fucking idiots! I can't believe what a bunch of idiots you are!
Mr. Korvac: Back off!
Negotiator: You idiot! Hahahahahahah! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!
[FX HELICOPTER OVERHEAD]
Mr. Bentham ENTERS
Receptionist: Good morning, sir!
Mr. Bentham: Good morning. Er, one car to be parked for a day, please.
Receptionist: Yes, sir. Mr. Keavey's free now, if you'd like to go through.
Mr. Bentham: Thank you.
[FX DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES]
Mr. Keavey: Ah, good morning, sir!
Mr. Bentham: Good morning.
Mr. Keavey: Have a seat.
Mr. Bentham: Thank you.
Mr. Keavey: Cup of coffee, sir?
Mr. Bentham: Erm, no thank you.
Mr. Keavey: Soft fruit?
Mr. Bentham: Thank you.
Mr. Keavey: Now then, sir. When would you like your car to be parked?
Mr. Bentham: Erm, as soon as possible, please.
Mr. Keavey: Reversed, or front in?
Mr. Bentham: Reversed, please.
Mr. Keavey: With a gloved driver?
Mr. Bentham: Yes, please.
Mr. Keavey: Do you have your own gloves, sir, or would you like us to provide?
Mr. Bentham: Could you provide, please?
Mr. Keavey: Certainly, sir. Er, chamois or cotton?
Mr. Bentham: Chamois.
Mr. Keavey: Chamois! There'll be a small surcharge for that, sir.
Mr. Bentham: Right.
Mr. Keavey: Lovely motor, by the way, sir.
Mr. Bentham: Thank you.
Mr. Keavey: No what about parking lights? Does she wear those, sir?
Mr. Bentham: Yes.
Mr. Keavey: Would you like them left on or off?
Mr. Bentham: Erm, on for the morning, please.
Mr. Keavey: Nice choice of regime, sir. And would you like her moved at all?
Mr. Bentham: Er, twice during the day, please.
Mr. Keavey: Any particular time?
Mr. Bentham: I'll leave that up to you.
Mr. Keavey: Thank you sir, very considerate.
Mr. Bentham: Thank you.
Mr. Keavey: And for the rest of the time, I take it you'd like us to do nothing with her. Would I be right, sir?
Mr. Bentham: Erm, yes.
Mr. Keavey: Right. [FX TAPS AT COMPUTER KEYBOARD] I'll just check if we've got someone on standby to do nothing with to a prestige saloon for today.
[FX TAPS AT COMPUTER KEYBOARD]
Ah, yes. Mr. Quokes. He's very good. Now, once she's parked, would you like us to pop a photograph of her round to your office later on this morning?
Mr. Bentham: Yes, please.
Mr. Keavey: Time?
Mr. Bentham: About half past eleven, please.
Mr. Keavey: Five and twenty past eleven, just to be safe, sir. And shall we deliver you the keys when it's time for you to come and pick the car up, sir?
Mr. Bentham: Yes, please.
Mr. Keavey: So that'll be at three-thirty, sir. Should allow you twenty minutes to walk here. Then there will be a little bit of admin, and a discussion of the day's parking, but you should be out and on the road by about half past five.
Mr. Bentham: Good.
Mr. Keavey: All right, sir. This is Mr. Szmesessessless, who'll be parking your car.
Mr. Bentham: Hello, Mr. Szmesessessless.
Mr. Szmesessessless: Hello, sir.
Mr. Keavey: Now, if you leave your keys with Mr. Prink in key reception, then he'll pop them through here, and I'll give them to Mr. Szmesessessless, and he'll have her parked in no time.
Mr. Bentham: Er, perhaps I could give Mr. Szmesessessless the key?
Mr. Keavey: Oh no, sir.
Mr. Bentham: Right.
Mr. Keavey: All right, sir?
Mr. Bentham: Yes, thank you.
Mr. Keavey: Thank you, sir.
Mr. Bentham: Goodbye.
Mr. Keavey: Help yourself to one of our parking club woggles.
Mr. Bentham: Oh, thank you.
Mr. Keavey: And a chinball, if you like, sir.
Mr. Bentham: Right.
Mr. Keavey: Wear it that way round, then people can see the logo.
Mr. Bentham: Yes.
Mr. Keavey: Should stay stuck on all day, sir. It grips the microscopic hairs on the face.
Mr. Bentham: Right.
Mr. Keavey: Goodbye then, sir.
Mr. Bentham: Goodbye.
American Man: I looked up and I saw this man just falling, he had no
parachute on or anything, he was just plummeting like a stone, about two
hundred feet up. He reached in to his belt and got out these two
pistols and he started firing them straight at the ground, like bang!
Bang! Bang! He had a real determined look on his face.
I guess he must have thought he could keep himself up in the air, you know?
'Cause he was firing those guns all the way until he hit the deck.
Mrs. Balcs: Hello?
Superintendent Stang: Erm, Mrs. Balcs?
Mrs. Balcs: Yes?
Superintendent Stang: Superintendent Stang. Sorry to bother you, madam. Would you be Paul Balcs' mother?
Mrs. Balcs: Yes.
Superintendent Stang: Could I come in, please?
Mrs. Balcs: Oh, God. Yes.
Superintendent Stang: Thanks. [FX FRONT DOOR CLOSES] I'm afraid he was knocked down this afternoon, just outside the Treacle Shopping Centre.
Mrs. Balcs: Oh, God.
Superintendent Stang: He died on the way to Hospital.
Mrs. Balcs: Oh!
Superintendent Stang: I'm sorry, Mrs. Balcs. I didn't hit him very hard. Must have been an unlucky bounce.
Mrs. Balcs: Oh!
Superintendent Stang: Don't remember it too clearly. I was pretty smashed. I just saw him on the pavement and thought; "There's that lad with the big mouth who looks like a baddy off the telly!" Next thing I knew, I'd smacked him against the wall.
Mrs. Balcs: Oh, Paul!
Superintendent Stang: I'm sorry, Mrs. Balcs. Of course, if we can be of any help... In the mean time, try and get some rest. Pretty knackered myself, actually. You haven't got somewhere I could grab a kip?
Mrs. Balcs: Erm, no!
Superintendent Stang: What about the lad's room?
Mrs. Balcs: Erm, well, I suppose...
Superintendent Stang: Well, where is it, then?
Mrs. Balcs: Upstairs, first on the left...
Superintendent Stang: Thanks. Why not make yourself a cup of tea? Could you wake me up when the pub opens? I'm going to need a few sessions to sort this one out.
[FX CLIMBS STAIRS]
[FX HARMONIUM PLAYS]
There, hear that?
[FX BUCKETS BANGING ON TROUGH]
Now that is four horses.
[FX NEIGHING AND WHINNYING]
Three of the horses are banging buckets on a trough, and the main one
in the middle is playing an old harmonium that we left in the shed.
He plays it with the back of his head.
And when you walking dog; "Click, here boy!" Call the children
over, pat his head; "No, he won't bite." But they all scream and
run, befreaked by crusty flaps of skin, dried semen, teeth and hair that
you've been dragging round since you unlocked the shed and found him eyeless,
stiff and putrid after seven months of careless oublier. Then welcome,
mmm, oo huxterpaz welcome, in Blue Jam, Blue Jam, Blue Jam, Blue Jam, Blue
Jam, Blue Jam, Blue Jam...
Cast: Chris Morris, David Cann, Amelia Bullmore, Julia Davis, Mark Heap, Kevin Eldon & Michael St. John
Produced by Chris Morris
Blue Jam © BBC 1999
Transcribed by Stephen Lafferty
Mandelsoned by Matt Honeyball