John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme, episode 3, season 1 transcript

Index: Sea lion in a hat (x) What you think I think you said … (x) Key cutter and trophies (x) Early in the morning (x) Snow Leopard sketch (x) National Debate (x) Jekyll and Hyde (x) Tale of Mystery (x)

Luke: Hey, how did you find it? JF: Well you know, not too bad. I answered all the questions anyway. How about you? Luke: Yeah, all right. I guessed the last one a bit, but basically all right. What did you put for

question 2? JF: Oh, the coefficient of friction one? Well, I tried resolving the forces vertically and I got

something like w equals naught point 2 t over x to the power of 10 (w=0.2t/x^10) but I think I should have substituted for t and solved for x. What did you put?

Luke: 6. JF: 6? Luke: Yeah. JF: 6 what? Luke: Just 6. Just the number 6. JF: Right… okay, um, what were you thinking there? Luke: Well… my thinking was, that the answer was… 6. I can’t exactly remember why now, but I

definitely thought that. Why, are you fairly sure about your thingy with the vertical thing? JF: What, I don’t know for sure, um, let’s ask Lizzy. Lizzy! Lizzy: Yeah? JF: What did you put for question 2? Lizzy: Question 2? Lemme think… yeah, I did a drawing of a sea lion. JF: Did you? Lizzy: Yeah. Sea lion in a little hat. Why, what did you put? JF: Well, we put different things, but not a sea lion in a little hat. Are you sure it wasn’t about the

coefficient of friction between a cone and a plane? Lizzy: Would the answer to that be a sea lion in a little hat? Luke: Probably not. Lizzy: Then I don’t think so. But let’s ask Steve. Steve! Steve: Yeah? Lizzy: Question 2, what did you put? Steve: Question 2? Uh… a sea lion in a hat. Lizzy: A little hat? Steve: Well, medium-sized. Lizzy: Yeah, but small for the sea lion? Steve: Oh yeah.

Lizzy: Oh! I thought so. JF: B-but… right. You see, I-I put quite a complicated value for w in terms of t and x and Luke

here put 6. Luke: Yeah, on the hat. JF: What? Luke: Well, somehow I took drawing a sea lion in a hat for granted. I thought you meant what

number did I put on the hat. Steve: Yeah 6 on the hat – that’s right. JF: B-but, then… then n-none of these make sense. Unless… oh! Luke: What? JF: Well, unless, this is all a dream and I’m not sitting the exams at all. In fact, I’m 43 now. And

I’m just worried because I got that presentation to do tomorrow and I haven’t really prepared. Steve: No, this is real. Luke: Yeah. Lizzy: Can’t believe you didn’t put a sea lion in hat!

-Okay, I want you to listen very carefully and tell me if I’ve got this right. You’re angry about what you think I said about what you said about what you thought I said but we now both agree I didn’t say about what you thought I thought you thought about what I did when you did what you did when I didn’t do what you thought I said I would do but I thought I said I would try to do. Is that right?

-Yes. -Yeah I thought so. Well, I didn’t say that. -Yes you did! You said you couldn’t believe I said what I said about what I thought about I

thought you said. But which we do agree you didn’t say because you thought I said I said what I said not because you didn’t do what you said you’d do but because you said you’d do it. And that makes me feel that you feel that I feel that you don’t feel what I feel.

-You know I feel that you feel I feel what you feel. -Yes, but I don’t feel you know that I know that. And that’s why I said what I said. -Why, what did you say? -That sometimes, I think you’re a little over-analytical. -Bollocks. This was quite a bitch to translate from speech to words, but it feels oddly satisfying to have done

it! :D

· Key cutter: Here we go sir. There’s one key in there. I can cut you a second for half the price. · Customer: No, one’s enough thanks. Oh, before I go… · KC: Yes sir? · Customer: Sorry, I’ve always wondered – why do you guys always sell trophies? · Key Cutter: Oh, these? · Customer: Yeah. I mean, you know. What is it about keys and trophies that go together? I mean,

it’s not like you use the same machine or anything. · Key Cutter: Nah! No, no… but take you for instance, sir. · Customer: Yeah? · Key cutter: Wel, I bet you’ve been meaning to get that key cut for a while, haven’t you?

· Customer: Uh… yeah. Yeah actually, how did you know? · Key Cutter: Ah! Well, it’s the same for everyone, sir. It’s never an urgent job. It just nags away

at you. Only you keep forgetting or you didn’t have time. · Customer: That’s right, yeah. · Key Cutter: That little job, sat at the back of your mind, barely noticed it, but here it was another

way in which you’re inefficient and disorganised. Not a proper grown up. · Customer: Yeah, exactly yeah! · Key cutter: But today, sir, you’ve done it. You’ve done that job. Well done, sir. Very well done. · Customer: Oh. Thank you. · Key cutter: Well done. Maybe you should get yourself a trophy? · Customer: Sorry, what? · Key cutter: Just a little one. “I got around to it”. · Customer: *stammers* Yeah, I don’t think so. · Key cutter: Are you sure, sir? You have done really well today. Don’t you think you owe

yourself a little trophy? · Customer: Yeah, not really. I mean, you know. It’s not the same if you buy it yourself, is it? · Key cutter: Oh that’s a funny thing, sir. It is. It’s exactly the same. You earned it, now you’ve

got it. Who cares who gave it to you, the important thing is you did really really well and you got a trophy.

· Customer: Alright, I’ll take it! · Key cutter: Good for you, sir! That would be 12 quid. And now, let me present you with your

trophy. Well done, sir. Very well done. · Customer: That was nice. I like that. · Key cutter: I thought you would, sir. Do you know what? I bet there’s a few more of these you

qualify for. “I finally learned my Internet banking ID and now I don’t have to keep looking it up!”, “I was going to buy a packet of crisps, then I didn’t.”, “I’m… of a above average height.”

· Customer: Go on then, I’ll take them all! · Key cutter: Good choice, sir. Well done.

*I put early as “earlay” because it was pronounced as such - earl-aye* -My Lords and Ladies of the Admiralty, Able Simon Johnson is therefore charged with being

intoxicated whilst on duty conduct under coming of a Member of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces and the use of a foghorn for purposes not sanctioned in standing orders.

-How do you plead? -Guilty, ma’am. -Very well. Gentlemen, your view. -Ah, give then that it is a first offence, I inclined towards clemency. I recommend we merely

suspend him from act of duty without pay for 3 months. -Very well. And you? -Well I take rather different view. I think we should put him in a long boat ‘till he’s sober. -I’m  sorry? -Put him in a long boat ‘till he’s sober. -No, no, I-I still… -Put  him in a long boat, ‘till he’s sober, ‘earlay’ in the morning. -What is a long boat? -Well you know, like one of our normal boats but, uh, longer. - Do we even have such a boat? - Well, there’s the HMS Ocean, 667 feet long – that’s quite long. -My Lord, the HMS Ocean is not a boat.

-Really? It’s definitely boat-shaped. Anyway, any long boat will do. My central point is simply that we should put  him one, until he’s sober … ‘earlay’ in the morning.

-Why? -I don’t really know, it’s a gut instinct. I just think there’s something with the length of the boat

and the ‘earlay’ness of the morning that’ll, you know, really make him think about what he’s done. And of course by the end of it he’ll be sober!

-With respect sir, the prisoner has been in charge for 3 weeks. He’s pretty sober already. -Oh is he? Oh, why didn’t you say so? Well in that case, I think our course is clear. -Do you? -Absolutely. It is my firm and considered opinion it is our duty as the admirals of the Royal Navy

to shave his belly with a rusty razor. -What on earth? -Let me finish! Shave his belly with a rusty razor … shave his belly, with a rust razor … ‘earlay’

in the morning. -And what in the world do you that that’ll achieve? -Well number one, a smoother belly. -Can I just say, can I just say, sir, I would prefer the long boat. -Ah! You see! He thinks the long boat is a good idea. -Alright! I’ve heard enough. Abel Simon Johnson, you’ll be suspended from act of service for a

duration of not less than 3 months. During which time you’ll be required to attend regular sessions in managing your relationship with alcohol.

-Spoil spot. -Yes, well you were being silly. -I suppose. -But, uh… these sessions? What time will they be? -I-I don’t know. What does it matter? -‘Earlay’ in the morning? -Oh, very well. Regular sessions in alcohol management, ‘earlay’ in the morning. That concludes

this session. The court will now rise. -Hurray! -And up he rises! ‘Earlay’ in the morning! These are not definite, just my own hearing. Probably heard some of them wrongly, but I think it’s

about 80% correct.

Here’s the compiled snow leopard sketch from John Finnemore’s Souvenir Programme. [ - ] means I couldn’t understand the words/sentences ( ) denotes words I heard but probably are wrong. :S -So hello! Here we are. Welcome to the Tajikistan Hilton – snow leopard central. (We hope) 1

cave, 2 men, 2 sleeping bags, 1 camera – well, 2 counting this one – all we need now is a big white pussy cat. And here we have the good doctor, Doctor Jonathan (Colliford) of Oxford University, no less!

-Haha, hello, hello. -Who I first had the pleasure to meet, well, uh, 5 hours ago. -About that, yes. Still, plenty of time now to get to know each other. -Aye. 6 months of it! We’ll know each other better than our own wives [ - ] -Yes, actually I’m not married.

-Oh well there we are. That’s the sort of thing we’ll find out. So for now, (we’re on) leopard villas. Goodbye!

-*sigh* So… -So… -Well, it’s rather nice in a way, isn’t it? No radio, no TV, nothing. Nothing to do all day  but

watch those mountains and, uh, talk to one another. -True, true enough. -Uh, s-so, for instance – how did you first become fascinated with the snow leopard? -Oh well, me? Oh, the beasties leave me cold, I’m afraid. But you know, for a camera man, a big

wild life doc was about the best gig you can get. Why, you a big leopard guy, are you? -Ah well yes I suppose, I suppose so. I spent more, more or less my whole life studying them. So

yes, yes! -Right, well I admire that. -Oh! And I admire you, too. -Oh, right! Our little mutual appreciation society we got. -Yes… yes, haha. -Uh, so, what’s your club? -Oh! Well, the Explorers’ Club actually. Not that I consider myself an explorer, you understand,

but – -Uh, no, your club – which club do you follow? -Oh God, yes! I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t really follow football. -Alright. -But cricket though! Big cricket fan. I don’t suppose you…? -Not so much, no… Do you like cooking? -Not really… Sailing? -No. Poker? -‘fraid not. -… Right. Okay, then. 6 months here… -Hmm.. hmm.. -Look! A snow leopard! -No, where?! -Not really. -Ah. … -Seen any yet? -Any what? -Uh, any snow leopards? -No. I would definitely tell you if I saw one. -Aye, I know. Just my little joke. -Yes… haha. -Oh! I know! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. Wine! I bet you know all about wine. You

see, I know a wee bit myself. Pal of mine owns a vineyard in Australia. He’s told me all about the [ - ] … no?

-Sorry. -Don’t like it, or just don’t know about it? ‘Cause I can teach you maybe. -Teetotal… -Oh right. -Sorry… chess? -No… fishing? -No… art? -No. -Ah! Got it! What do you drive? -You’re not gonna like this.

-Oh right, Prius or something, is it? Big old Volvo? -It’s worse. I actually don’t have a car, just a bike. -Ah! A bike! I love bikes! What’ve you got? -Oh terrific! Well look, I’ve got 2 actually. I’ve got a fairly ordinary (trek) for road cycling but I

also ride a (Syvello) frame on full chrome wheel… and you were probably talking about motorbikes, yes?

-Aye. -Yeah, and you don’t have a pedal bike? -Uh, my daughter’s got one. -Oh, yes, and d’you know what sort? -I think it’s called a ‘Glitterbug’… uh, sorry she’s 8. -Right… -Any kids yourself? -No, no. Gay, actually. -Oh, right. My sister’s gay. -Oh yes? … How she finding it? -Fine. -Good. … -There’s no leopard … like snow leopards. There’s no leopard… -Please. -What? -Just, sorry. But please don’t sing that anymore. -Right, fine. So if we ever see any, you’ll be doing the voice overs for this, will you? -Oh no, oh gosh, no. No, David Attenborough will. -Oh yeah, aye. Of course. I suppose you’re a big fan of his, are you? -Yes. Yes of course. Why, are you not? -Oh no, I am! Course I am. Everyone loves Attenborough don’t they. -Oh yes they do. Yes. He’s achieved so much. -Aye. -Although… -Aye? -Well, personally speaking, I’ve never quite understood why he still voices shows now that he’s

retired from field work. -Aye exactly! It should be you! -Not me. -Of course it should be you! You’re the one actually out here freezing tour nudges off waiting for

his precious snow leopard. Where is he? -Home in bed, I suppose. -Exactly! Well we can send any old thing and he never … tell you what we should do. We should

just get ourselves an ordinary leopard and Tipp-Ex him! -Yes, or… yes! Or we can find an albino [ ] and put potato prints on him! -Yeah, aye, aye. We should just not send him any footage and tell him he can talk over stuff he

filmed himself! -Yes, um, like “Here in Surrey, I can see out of the window the breath taking sight of, ooh,

probably a starling or something. Ooh, it’s gone now.” -“Meanwhile, we’ve captured rare footage of the awesome sight of my cat licking his arse.” -“It’s by evolving strategies like this that the humble domestic feline has, over the millennia,

managed to keep his ass so clean – “ -“and his breath so bad.” *raucous laughter* -LEOPARD! -Yeah, I’m sure.

-No, really, LEOPARD! -Oh God! Quick, get your – -Yeah, I’m – -Quick! Quick! Quick! -Okay, okay, okay. I’m here, I’m here. Uh, where is it? Oh, it’s gone? -Yeah… -Well… that’s a pity.

[ - ] means I couldn’t understand the words/sentences ( ) denotes words I heard but probably are wrong. :S -And our next question please. -How should we deal with that incredibly complex thing that everybody wants to solve but all the

possible solutions of which makes some people very angry? -Phillip Sutton, Shadow Minister for Shipping and Shopping. -Well, our start on this is very clear. We want to see a national debate on the subject. -A national debate? -Absolutely. This is a pressing question and the people should really buckle down to sorting it out.

Everyone should stop what they’re doing, turn to the person next to them and just argue the hell out of it until the answer becomes clear.

-But isn’t that what people elect politicians to do? -No! They elect us to tell them when the national debate begins. And it begins when I say go. Go! -Anne McAllister, third party spokesman for things that face west. -Well I’m sorry, but I think it’s high time we did something about this issue, specifically argued

about it. What we need is a national debate. -Yeah I said that already. -No, I mean a proper national debate. Everyone in Britain need to compare diaries, find a way we

can all do then meet up perhaps somewhere conveniently near the middle like Nottingham, get around one really big table – really big table – and thrash this thing out.

-But how can we thrash it out when [ - ] ? -I don’t want to interrupt the national debate. -Right. Well, let me turn now to Mr Mark Gillard, Minister of Sound. -Well, government is about leadership and frankly the time for a national debate on this issue has

passed. That is why I’m immediately gonna set up a citizen’s jury. -Right. Where evidence and arguments are presented to them by experts in the field. -Good Lord, no. No. The British public is rightly suspicious of so-called experts. -An by so-called experts you mean? -I mean experts. All experts are so-called by the people who call them so. No, I put my hand on

my heart and promise there’ll be no one on this jury who knows the first thing about what they’re talking about.

-Then why ask them? -Because they’re the people! -The public! -They’re taxpayers. Some of them are even parents. -They have reserves of wisdom and political insights we mere professional politicians cannot hope

to understand. -So you wouldn’t be allowed to serve in this jury? -Absolutely not! No politicians, journalists, economists, scientists – just people.

-Are the politicians ducking their responsibilities by appealing to the people of every opportunity rather than doing the job they’re elected to do?

-Well… -I’m not talking to you. Tell us what you think. We’d love to hear from you. Write to us on the

usual address or phone out letter line or e-mail us or post an entry to our blog or just stick your head out of the windows and shout. Whatever you think, or even if you don’t, let us know!

[ - ] means I couldn’t understand the words/sentences ( ) denotes words I heard but probably are wrong -[ - ] Square, 4th of October, 1885. Sir, although it is evident we are men of widely (differing)

tastes and habits, circumstances ordain that we must share these chambers. Let us at least do so in a civil fashion. Therefore, sir, I insist upon your cooperation in the following matters. You are most welcome to read my books but, pray, replace the volumes of the [ - ] rather than leaving them harum-scarum about the chamber. My scientific apparatus is both delicate and costly, and you must regard it as entirely without your bounds. And  food stuff, sir, are not to be consumed and certainly not to be smeared up the fixtures and fitting! (Sundry) other matters I wish to raise, but these are the most compelling. Yours sincerely, Doctor Henry Jekyll.

-Dear Doctor fat-ass, go [ - ] your head in a pig! I’ll do what I like and if you don’t like it then that is good because I do not like you. I have smashed up all your science stuff and if you by more science stuff, I will smash that too.  I hope you do because I like smashing – I am a smasher. Love and kisses, Edward Hyde.

- Sir, this is wanton vandalism! I bitterly regret that our circumstances make it impractical for me to present you a bill for the damage. And the sketches you have scrawled on the [ - ] of my encyclopaedia are not merely in the worst possible taste but anatomically extremely implausible. If you (are not to) respect our home, you will please at least respect our body. We both have to live in it, you realise, and as a long life member of the Temperance Society, I deeply resent getting your hangovers! H. Jekyll.

-Dear walrus-face, sod off! I will do what I like with our body. [ - ] my body anyway! I look amazing in it. You make it look stupid and fat. And don’t tell me what to do. If I want to have fun, I ought to have fun and I do want to have fun because fun is fun. Oh! I’ve had an idea and because I’ve had it, I will do it because that’s what I’m like. Ed.

-YOU’VE SHAVED OUR MOUSTACHE OFF! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’VE SHAVE OUR MOUSTACHE OFF! Also, you killed that costermonger. You go too far this time, sir! You believe I have no sanctions against you but I have locked myself in my room and I have before me a quart of [ - ] wine. Prepare, sir, to sample your own medicine! H. J.

-You call that a drink? Hehe. I drink drink like that before I start drinking! Give it up doctor stupid-head. There is nothing you can do to stop me so don’t even try. Now I’m gonna wee in your hat.

-Sir, I present the compliments of my learned colleague Dr Stamford Harrison. Doctor Harrison is a pioneer on new surgical advances in the procedures known as vasectomy. The word may be new to you. Allow me to explain it by means of the following emendations to one of your drawings. Don’t think I won’t do it. H.

-Dear Doctor Jekyll, I hope you like the new science stuff I have bought you. I think it is nicer than what I had did smashed. I am very sorry about the smashing. I hope you will regrow our lovely moustache. It suits us especially you. Yours respectfully, and very sorry like I said, Edward Hyde.

-That’s better. H. -But is it alright if I still kill costermongers? -Alright. But no more than 1 a month and you dispose of the body.

[ - ] means I couldn’t understand the words/sentences ( ) denotes words I heard but probably are wrong This is another favourite of mine. Just hilariously brilliant writing from John. It catches you and

then BAM, punchlines after punchlines. :D Well since you ask me for a tale of mystery, there is one queer incidence that may intrigue you. It

was a drear November night and I was at home in my room whittling. I am a dedicated whittler and it is my proud (prose) but given any wooden object I can turn it into something smaller and pointier. At present I was engaged from making a replica of The Queen Mary – the ship – from a larger replica of the Queen Mary of The Queen. I was just getting to the fiddly bit of converting the forehead into a forecastle when the telephone rang. I answered it and heard the unexpected voice of my old friend Henry Coupe.

“I say Finnemore,” said he. I told you he had an unexpected voice. “[ ] by way of being a connoisseur of the strange and the unexplained, aren’t you?”

“Indeed I am,” I acknowledge, stroking the 3-headed cat which lay on my knee – purring, yawning and doing a crossword.

“Well then, I wish you look in on us down at Coupe Manor. Something rather rummy has happened and I think there’s something fishy about it.”

That was enough for me. I love fishy rummy things! My dinner parties are famed for my turbot Bacardi. I leapt into my two-seater and in no time at all there I was in my two-seater. In some time at all, however, I arrived at Coupe Manor. I was met in the (stately) entrance hall by the butler – Gardener.

            “You will find the young master in the drawing room,” he intoned, therefore ruining a perfectly good game of hide and seek.

            “Ah! There you are Finnemore!” said Coupe as I helped him out of the grandfather clock. “I don’t believe you’ve met my sister Charlotte.”

I looked at her. She had sharp intelligent eyes, set in a sharp, intelligent face. “Hello Mr Stwange man!” All in front of a blunt, stupid brain. “Charmed to meet you.” said I, making a small bow and

pocketing it to add to the Queen Mary later. “Now then Coupe, what’s this rum business of yours?”

            “Daddy gone a-bye-bye!”             “My sister is quite correct,” said Coupe. “Father has gone a-bye-bye. Few days ago he

went into the little cottage he built himself to practice the accordion in and no one has seen him since.”

Suddenly, a (gasp-y) noise rent the air. It was my cat who wanted, reading from left to right, feeding, stroking and a nine-letter word for unachievable.  Coupe rang the bell for the maid who was too short to reach it. I took the opportunity to question her. “So Alice, no one’s been in the cottage since Sir Samuel disappeared?”

            “Oh no, sir. Only Sir Samuel has the key which he keeps at all times in a lead-lined safe to which only he has the key, which he swallows every morning.”

            “And every evening?”             “I try not to speculate, sir.” There was nothing for it but to break into the cottage. Inside was one bare room. The door had

been locked from the inside. The windows were barred, locked from the inside, didn’t open and were made of brick. All the books were chained to the shelf save one. Open on the table at a page entitled ‘How to secure a room from the inside’. All the boxes have been ticked. And even the pen used to make the ticks was one of those ones on a little chain you get in banks. Oh, and Sir Samuel was there – strangled with his own accordion. Questions whirl through my mind. Who had killed

him? How had they killed him? Why had they killed him? Had they killed him? And if not, who had killed him?

To be continued … immediately.             “One thing at least is clear,” I told the household when they assembled that evening in the

denouement parlour. “Sir Samuel was murdered.”             “Impossible!” cried the maid.             “What is impossible, Alice?”             “A nine-letter word for unachievable – it just came to me.” I heard of my cat purred her thanks. Coupe burrowed his brow. “I hate to say it, old man, but

perhaps you should be talking to the butler. He’s never held a job for longer than 3 months before he came in here.”

            “Is this true, Gardener?” I asked.             “Regrettably so.”             “And why was that?”             “I couldn’t say sir”             “Come, come, this is no time to play the innocent.”             “No, that was the reason – I couldn’t say ‘sir’. I had a lisp.”             “I see. And how did you get rid of it?”             “Sir Samuel’s sister Susan, sir, [ - ] seeking to assist sent me to see Mr Simon [ - ] to

celebrate a speech therapist. Thorry, therapist.”             “I see.” Who then was the murderer? The victim’s son, my old friend; his daughter, the

half-wit; his butler with the painful sthecret; or his maid – the maid? Or was there someone else? Someone I hadn’t dreamt of suspecting up to now but who had been staring at me in the face the whole time? I checked and there wasn’t. So I went with the maid.

            “Curse you, Finnemore!” cried the maid, her face a mask of fury. “Yes, I did it and you found me out with your devilish detective trick of asking if it was me.”

Charlotte looked puzzled. “But how naughty bad maid go kill Daddy with cottage all locked up [ - ]?”

            “What?”             “How did she get into the cottage?”             “Aha! She didn’t! You told me, Coupe, that your father built the cottage himself. What I

foolishly forgot to ask you was – when?”             “Oh, I don’t know. Just before he went in to it, I suppose. It certainly wasn’t here last

week.”             “Precisely! The fact is, Sir Samuel didn’t build that cottage. The maid strangled him and

built a locked cottage around the body. It’s the second oldest trick in the book, just after ‘Got Your Nose’.”

Later that evening, Coupe and I sat on the terrace smoking our cigars and watching as the butler hanged the maid.

            “Oh-hohoho, jolly good work Finnemore! But I still don’t understand how you knew it was her?”

            “Well, it has been well said that every master criminal, however brilliant, makes one crucial mistake. She was no exception to the rules.”

            “What was her mistake?”             “Impossible is not a nine-letter word. Goodnight!”   John Finnemore’s Souvenir Programme was written by and starred John Finnemore! With Simon

Kaye, Carrie Quinlan and Lawry Lewin. The producer was Ed Morrish. If you’d been affected by any of the issues in tonight’s show, I’d be astonished.