John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme series 9 episode 1
This is John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme.
[intro music]
Narrator: 2020: online
Alex:
"Claus"-trophobia.
[all groan]
Toby:
Okay, Granny's turn!
Deborah:
Yeah, but um, how are me and Dad supposed to do this, exactly?
Jerry:
Oh well, your box is next to mine, Deborah, so if I hold my cracker half off like this...
Deborah:
You're not next to me on my screen, Dad, you're just poking Russ in the ear with a cracker.
Toby:
GG J, you can swap people's screens around.
Jerry:
Oh can I?
Russ:
I mean, you definitely can't.
Deborah:
Oh, but that works, Dad, what you're doing now.
Jerry:
Ah I shall hold fast then.
Deborah:
Okay, and if I hold mine here...
[all exclaim]
Alex:
Oh that actually looks really good!
Toby:
It's amazing! They're even the same colour!
Deborah:
Alright, we've got to do it the same time, Dad, so on three -- 1, 2, 3... Oh.
Russ:
What did you both think was gonna happen?
Alex:
Okay, look, put your crackers back up. Can you, like, can you kind of stretch round, okay, your arm off screen like Mr. Tickle?
Deborah:
Like Mr. Tickle?
Alex:
Oh, I'm sorry, do you guys not have Mr. Tickle?
Jerry:
Certainly we have him; we invented him! Doesn't mean we can stretch our arms round like him.
Deborah:
Oh, although, Dad, try though, because actually I can.
Jerry:
Oh! Oh good lord. So can I. [laughs]
Deborah:
Alllllright! One, two, [snapping sound] three...
Jerry:
Ahh! I won!
Deborah:
And I won, too!
Russ:
Again, I'm not sure what you're surprised about.
[high-pitched dog bark]
Alex:
Toby, let Oswald out.
Jerry:
Right, so, so. Ahh... [tearing sound] Gift. I have this small plastic bee on a sort of hinged affair, but I'm not quite sure what it's made of!
Toby:
It's a hair clip, GG J!
Jerry:
Ahh.
Toby:
[giggles] Sorry, I'm only laughing because you have--
Jerry:
Yes, yes, I fully understand why you're laughing.
Alex:
Jerry, you could always put it in your moustache.
Jerry:
So I could! And so I shall.
[all laugh]
Jerry:
And joke, such as it is. "Who hides in the bakery at Christmas? a mince spy."
Toby:
You're meant to wait so we can guess!
Jerry:
I know. But I simply couldn't bear to.
Deborah:
Okay, my turn so [ripping sound] hat! Gift? I've gotta... oo, I've got this nice little makeup compact.
Alex:
Oh that is nice.
Russ:
Someone has been buying herself extremely fancy crackers.
Deborah:
They're not, they're only Aldi! and the joke! "Tiger King." I don't get it.
Russ:
Does it definitely say "joke"?
Deborah:
uh "charaaaade". Oh.
Russ:
There we go.
Deborah:
Well, I've ruined it now.
Toby:
Do it anyway!
Deborah:
Shall I?
Russ:
Sure. Maybe we've forgotten.
[several speaking at once]
Okay. TV show. Whole thing.
Russ:
Oh, tricky. Umm... lion prince?
Jerry:
Hauty leopard.
Alex:
Just some kind of really stuck up... cat.
Russ:
No, don't think we're gonna get it, Mom.
Deborah:
Oh, you spaniels! Someone say it!
Toby:
Tiger King!
Russ:
Oh, well done, Toby!
Alex:
Yeah, I'd never have got that.
Russ:
Okay, pudding. Have we all got our Christmas puddings?
[several speaking] Yep.
Jerry:
Yes. Oh, what's that, Deb?
Deborah:
It's half a Scotch egg.
Jerry:
Genius.
Russ:
Okay, then!
Toby:
Dad, wait, wait -- Pa still hasn't done his hat.
Jerry:
Hasn't he?
Deborah:
Alex...
Russ:
Go on, Al.
Alex:
Ugh, you guys are so weird. [ripping sound]
[all] Yay!!
Narrator: 2018: Hastings
Russ:
Hi, Mr. Nock? Hi, yeah, it's a Russ Golding? We've been emailing.
From Pier Pressure. The band, yeah.
So look, first off, just to say, we're very sorry for your loss.
No, I kind of picked up on that. But you know, we always say it.
Yeah, sure, I'd be happy to. Sorry you've been landed with all this admin.
Oh, right. So we got the setlist you sent. The bad news is, I'm afraid we don't do "Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead".
Yeah. Yeah, I knew you'd be disappointed, but... I'm sorry. We just don't do it anymore.
Yeah, we did it once. Because the guy'd sworn up and down that she'd chosen it herself and everyone'd find it hilarious. And then it turned out she hadn't. And they didn't. But good news! Most of the others are totally fine with. So, let's see... "Witchy Woman"? Fine. "Scarlet Witch"? Fine. "The Witch's Promise"? I mean, obviously your guests are going to pick up on the theme, but I'm guessing that's what you want.
Then, "Wicked Annabella". Probably fine, but we just wanted to check -- her name wasn't Annabella, right?
Okay, only... if when we get there, it does turn out her name was Annabella we'll drop it from the set, okay? Fair warning. And we will know, obviously, because the priest will say.
... Right. Or whoever it is you get to do the-- really?? Jesus.
Okay, so last one, and it's good news and bad news on this basically. Good news: we're totally on board with "Always look on the Bright Side of Life". But bad news: I'm afraid we are gonna have to stick to the original lyrics.
... Yeah, yeah, I knew you would be.
Yeah, and I can see you've taken a lot of time over them. But you know, look at it from our point of view. It's basically the same problem as "Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead". Only, you know, much, much worse.
Well, I mean, you could always sing it afterwards at the like, afterparty or whatever. No, sorry. I didn't mean afterparty. I meant... Oh, right. Well, at the afterparty then, once we've gone.
Okay, well, that sounds like a deal. Great. Only definitely once we've gone, yeah?
Great. Okay, I'll get off the line then. See you Sunday. And once again, very sorry for your... for your extra admin.
Narrator: 2010: Lanzarote
Alex:
Russ… What's that little mark on your shoulder?
Russ:
That? That's my tattoo.
Alex:
No, no it’s– Oh... it is.
Russ:
Yeah, I know it is.
Alex:
Oh. How long have you had that?
Russ:
Long as you've known me.
Alex:
I never noticed it before. What is it?
Russ:
What does it look like?
Alex:
Uhh... like a... saw?
Russ:
It's the lower jaw bone of a crocodile.
Alex:
Is it?
Russ:
Yep.
Alex:
Why?
Russ:
Because the crocodile, right? has incredibly strong jaw muscles for closing its jaws, but only very weak ones for opening it again. So, the crocodile's lower jaw bone is to remind me: strength depends on how you measure it.
Alex:
Oh, aren't you deep?
Russ:
People call me the Buddha of Hastings.
Alex:
Skinniest Buddha I've ever seen. [laughing]
Russ:
Shut up!
Narrator: 2006: Larmer Tree Festival
Band member #1:
Okay. This next one's from the diseased mind of the drummer.
Russ:
It's not!
Band member #1:
It is. Strap in!
Russ:
Two, three, four!
Band member #1:
[singing]
Woof woof woof, woofs the wolfhound.
Arf, arf, arf, barks the chow.
The bloodhound howls ow, ow, ow, ow.
The dogs of war sing sweetly now.
Truly wonders never cease.
The dogs of war sing songs of peace.
The nightingale informs us so from her tree.
Dogs may snarl and dogs may slather.
The nightingale prefers to have her
song set in a more melodious key.
So she sings Woof woof woof, woofs the wolfhound.
Arf, arf, arf, barks the chow.
The bloodhound howls ow, ow, ow, ow.
The nightingale takes a bow.
[crowd cheers]
Narrator: 2004: Hastings
Band member #1:
No. Okay, no one's leaving until we've had at least one idea for a new song.
Band member #2:
Should we do something about the war?
Band member #3:
Yeah if there's time. Should we do the song first though?
Band member #4:
I like when bands cover a really old song, but make it like really metal or something. We could do that.
Band member #1:
Like what?
Band member #4:
I don't know. Something like... "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square"?
Band member #1:
[singing] "a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square..." Yeah, that could be something.
Russ:
Right but if we're doing that one, shouldn't we do the famous bit?
Band member #1:
That is the famous bit.
Russ:
No, but the chorus though! [singing] "Woof woof woof goes the wolfhound."
Band member #3:
Oh, look, Russ has gone mad. That's a shame. I liked Russ.
Russ:
What do you mean? That's the lyrics!
Band member #3:
[laughing] The lyrics of... the lyrics of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" are... "woof woof woof went the woof hound"?
[all but Russ laughing]
Russ:
Wolfhound, yeah.
Russ:
[singing] "arf arf arf went the chow"
Band member #3:
Oh, there's more??
Band member #2:
[through laughter] Why... why is it so high?
Russ:
‘Cause that’s the joke. 'Cause a nightingale can't do dog voices.
Band member:
[all laughing] Hang on, hang on. This is the nightingale singing this?
Russ:
Yeah! Why are you all pretending you've never heard this? It's really famous.
Band member #3:
[through laughter] No one has... no one's heard this, Russ.
Russ:
Fine. Nevermind then. We'll do something else.
Band member #1:
No! No, no, no. We're definitely doing that. Whatever the hell it is, we are doing it. Okay. Well, the rest of you can go. Russ, you and me are writing a song, Jawbone.
Narrator: 2003: Hastings
Russ:
Uh, hi. What's like the smallest animal you do?
Tattoo artist:
Smallest animal?
Russ:
Yeah.
Tattoo artist:
Oh, I dunno... a rat? No, a bee! The ones I would normally do. But I could do anything. I could do... an amoeba?
Russ:
Oh, right. No, sorry. I didn't mean which is the smallest in real life. I mean, which could you do the smallest as a tattoo?
Tattoo artist:
Ah, see the thing is, I can do any animal any size.
Russ:
Right. But which could you do smallest?
Tattoo artist:
I could just do a dot and say it's an elephant a long way off.
Russ:
Could ya?
Tattoo artist:
If that's what you want.
Russ:
Nah, they wouldn't go for that. So look, I'm in a band, right?
Tattoo artist:
Are... are you asking me?
Russ:
No, I am.
Tattoo artist:
Okay.
Russ:
Okay. So we're all supposed to get animals on our shoulders. And I reckon he means, you know, so people can see it when we're on stage.
Tattoo artist:
Oookay. So what you want – am I right? – is most amount of recognizability for smallest amount of ink. That it?
Russ:
Yeah!
Tattoo artist:
Okay, so distinctive, but thin.
Russ:
Uhh... giraffe?
Tattoo artist:
Ah, big in the body giraffes, you'd be surprised. No. Uhh... I know! Spider.
Russ:
Spider...
Tattoo artist:
No, wait, better -- stick insect.
Russ:
Right, but... I don't know. I think it's got to be an animal like you get in a zoo.
Tattoo artist:
You get insects in zoos.
Russ:
Yeah, but I'm just thinking, if the others all go for like wolf and panther and bear. And then it's "and on drums: Stick Insect!"
Tattoo artist:
Yeah, no, I see your point. Oh, got it! Crocodile.
Russ:
Crocodile... Yeah, I like crocodile!
Tattoo artist:
Thin, easily recognized, definitely in zoos, tougher than a stick insect. I think we got a winner.
Russ:
Yep, let's do it.
Tattoo artist:
Okay, one croc coming up. Oh, hang on. I've got to ask you some questions.
Russ:
Okay.
Tattoo artist:
How old are you?
Russ:
19.
Tattoo artist:
Good. Are you sure you want this tattoo?
Russ:
What?
Tattoo artist:
Are you sure you want this tattoo?
Russ:
No! Haven't you been listening? I don't want it at all. But the band says I gotta.
Tattoo artist:
Oh, didn't hear that.
Russ:
Yeah, I said--
Tattoo artist:
No, I was asking -- you sure you want this tattoo? You're not just getting it because of peer pressure?
Russ:
Yeah, exactly! Pier Pressure! That's literally the name of the band. Only we spell it "pier" like Hastings Pier because--
Tattoo artist:
'Cause this is Hastings. No, I get it. What I'm saying is if you don't want this tattoo, I can't give it to ya.
Russ:
Oh right. No, no, I want it.
Tattoo artist:
Good. Hop on up then. And look, if you hate it, yell out anytime and I'll stop.
Narrator: 2001: Hastings
Russ:
Okay, Mom, I'm off out. Back by midnight.
Deborah:
Back by 10, thank you very much.
Russ:
Back by 11.
Deborah:
Back by 10! And if you made me say 10 again, I'll say nine.
Russ:
Back by ten. Oh and Mum? Been meaning to say, not a big deal or anything, but as it goes, I'm gay. Okay, bye! See you at 10!
Deborah:
Oh, Russ! Wait! Wait, wait, love! Come back.
Russ:
Nah, it's okay. It's not a big deal.
Deborah:
It is a big deal!
Russ:
[sighs] Doesn't have to be.
Deborah:
No, but it's wonderful.
Russ:
Wonderful?
Deborah:
Well, no, not wonderful. Just you know, fine. It's really fine.
Russ:
Great. Okay. See you at 11.
Deborah:
I'm just so surprised though.
Russ:
Yeah?
Deborah:
So surprised. I had no idea. But I'm delighted. I mean, you know, supportive-delighted, but just so... so surprised! Goodness me.
Russ:
Are you being sarcastic?
Deborah:
Oh, of course not. I'm just--
Russ:
You are! You're taking the mickey.
Deborah:
I'm not!
Russ:
Mum, you're fanning yourself. When have you ever fanned yourself?
Deborah:
It's the surprise.
Russ:
You've been on the web. Is that it?
Deborah:
What do you mean?
Russ:
You have. Or you've asked Alan. Someone said "whatever you do, don't say you already knew," is that it?
Deborah:
No. What? I don't know what you mean. I'm just surprised.
Russ:
Oh. So you really didn't know?
Deborah:
I had no idea.
Russ:
That's weird, innit? 'cause, you know, you're usually so good about people, aren't you?
Deborah:
Well--
Russ:
I mean, that's your thing, isn't it? Reading people. But this? This properly blindsided you, did it?
Deborah:
It did.
Russ:
No idea at all. A bolt from the blue. Imagine that. Your own son, who you've known all his life, and still you had no idea.
Deborah:
Yes, I knew! Of course I knew! I knew before you knew!
Russ:
There we go.
Deborah:
Oh, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I promised Alan.
Russ:
It's okay. I already knew you already knew.
Deborah:
You did not!
Russ:
See you at 11!
Deborah:
10.
Russ:
Oh, come on. Still?
Deborah:
Yes, still! You don't get an extra hour just for being gay. Especially when I already knew.
[Door shuts]
Narrator: 1994: Dover
Craig:
Oi! Wussy Russy. What's this?
Russ:
Oh, knock it off, Craig.
Craig:
How 'bout your head? You want me to knock off your head?
Russ:
Ah, nice one. I like that. That's clever.
Craig:
Oh, you like it? You like this, do you? [grunt]
Russ:
Oi! Half a glass!
Craig:
What did you say?
Russ:
[softly] Nothing.
Craig:
You said "half a glass" -- what's that? Such a weirdo. What's a weirdo like you doing with a guitar?
Russ:
Oh, I dunno. Just nothing really.
Craig:
Great! Can I borrow it then?
Russ:
Uh, not really.
Craig:
Thanks, mate!
Russ:
Nah, Craig, come on, give it back.
Craig:
I'll give it you Monday, okay?
Russ:
No, no Craig, I can't--
Craig:
See you, weirdo!
Russ:
[scuffling sounds] No, Craig, come on, give it back. Craig. Craig, give it back please. [running sounds] Give it us.
Craig:
Piss off! [running, panting]
Russ:
Craig, give it us.
Craig:
[out of breath] Oi. You want it? Okay, come and get it, then.
Russ:
Oh, give it us, though, Craig, please.
Craig:
I told you -- come and take it.
Russ:
No.
Craig:
Why not?
Russ:
You'd batter me.
Craig:
Yeah, I would. Get lost! [panting and running]
Russ:
Craig.
Craig:
[startled] Ah!
Russ:
Give it back like, please.
Craig:
Look. You have to either fight me for it or piss off.
Russ:
No I don't.
Craig:
You do.
Russ:
Give it back. Please.
Craig:
Or what?
Russ:
Or I'll just keep asking, I suppose.
Craig:
Fine. Take it, it stinks anyway.
Russ:
Thanks, Craig.
Craig:
Now piss off and leave me alone! [panting, walking]
Russ:
Craig?
Craig:
What're you doing! You got it back, get lost.
Russ:
Yeah, I will, but. Can I have 20p?
Craig:
What?
Russ:
Only I'm gonna be really late home. I'm gonna be in real trouble if I don't phone.
Craig:
I don't care!
Russ:
I know, but... I am though! So can I have 20p?
Craig:
No! Why are you asking me for it?
Russ:
I don't think anyone else will give it to me.
Craig:
I'm not gonna give it to you!
Russ:
Oh go on, Craig, please.
Craig:
Stop following me! You're gonna be even later.
Russ:
I know, but. I really need 20p. Go on, give it--
Craig:
NO!
Russ:
Please, Craig. Go on. Give it us.
Craig:
Why d'you need 20p, anyway? Phone call's 10p.
Russ:
Yeah. But if Mum's out, I'll have to ring Dad.
Craig:
If she's out, the box'll give you the 10p back. You can use the same one.
Russ:
Yeah, that's true. Can you give us 10p?
Craig:
[sound of coins jingling] [sigh] Don't you dare tell anyone about this. Ever.
Russ:
Thanks, Craig. See you Monday!
Narrator: 1990: Long Buckby
Deborah:
Uncle Newt!
Newt:
Ah! Hello, Deborah!
Deborah:
Hello, darling. Look, I want to have a long chat with you, but right now can you just watch Russ for me? Just for five minutes.
Newt:
Ah, of course.
Deborah:
Thank you. I wouldn't ask, but I got to head Dad off. I swear, he'll do a poem.
Newt:
[laughs] That's quite all right. Take your time.
Deborah:
Thank you. He's very good. Russ – be good. Level five good.
Russ:
Hello.
Newt:
Hello.
Russ:
I'm Russ. I'm five. I'm going to be six. Who are you?
Newt:
I'm Newt.
Russ:
That's not a name, that's a fish.
Newt:
An amphibian, in fact.
Russ:
What's that?
Newt:
An amphibian is a creature capable of living with equal ease either on land or in water.
Russ:
Cool!
Newt:
It is cool.
Russ:
Which one do you like best, though?
Newt:
I like the land best.
Russ:
Me too. Amph...
Newt:
Amphibian.
Russ:
And... and-phibian.
Newt:
AM-phibian.
Russ:
Am-phibian. That lives--
Newt:
Yes!
Russ:
-- on land and water. Like turtles.
Newt:
Uh... well, like turtles, but not turtles, in fact. Turtles, you see, are reptiles.
Russ:
But turtles live in and out the water.
Newt:
Yes, yes, they do.
Russ:
Then why aren't they... amphibians?
Newt:
Do you really want to know?
Russ:
Yeah.
Newt:
Because they lay amniotic eggs, and their skulls have upper and lower fenestra. Shall I tell you what that means?
Russ:
…No, thank you.
Newt:
All right, then.
Russ:
You know the lady whose party this is? That's my great-granny.
Newt:
Ah, is that so?
Russ:
Yes. But she's dead.
Newt:
Yes.
Russ:
Did you know we're all going to be dead one day?
Newt:
I've heard a rumour, yes.
Russ:
Yeah, we are. Why are you here?
Newt:
Well, I'm her uncle.
Russ:
Whose uncle?
Newt:
That lady whose funeral it is.
Russ:
You can't be.
Newt:
Why not?
Russ:
Well, she was an old lady and she's only just died. If you were her uncle, you should be dead already.
Newt:
Well. You're perfectly right of course.
Russ:
Perhaps there's been a mix up.
Newt:
Possibly.
Russ:
Do you know any stories?
Newt:
Stories?
Russ:
Yeah, I've got a tape, but I had to leave it in the car.
Newt:
What would you like a story about?
Russ:
Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles!
Newt:
Turtles?
Russ:
Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles.
Newt:
Oh, I see. So wait-- teenaged... mutated?
Russ:
Mutant Hero Turtles. [sings] "Heroes in a half shell!"
Newt:
Well, since you asked me for a story about some teenaged mutated heroic turtles, well, I'll have a crack at it! Yes, it was in the cold winter of 1896 that I first met those remarkable young turtles, uh, Claude and Genevieve--
Russ:
That's not their names.
Newt:
I'm sorry?
Russ:
They're not called those things.
Newt:
Well what are they called then?
Russ:
Michelangelo, Raphael, Donatello, and Leonardo.
Newt:
Young man, you have surprised me. Very well. Well in that case it was in the hot winter of 1496 that I met those remarkable young turtles, Raphael and Michelangelo.
Russ:
Where were Donatello and Leonardo?
Newt:
On holiday. Now listen to the story.
Russ:
Okay.
[Since you asked me intro music]
Newt:
I was at that time a talent scout for Lorenzo de Medici, who was organising a competition to find an artist to paint the ceiling of his largest chapel onto the ceiling of his second largest chapel. He just wanted both his chapels to have the same ceiling. Well, I had heard rumours that some remarkable artwork was coming out of Florence's Reptilian Quarter. Accordingly, I made my way one night toward this reputable looking bottega called In Terrarium. I knocked at the door of the tiny garret above it. [knocking] And it was opened to reveal two surprisingly circular silhouettes.
Michelangelo:
"Good evening, signor."
Newt:
I gasped! "Turtles!"
Michelangelo:
"We have that honour,"
Newt:
replied the taller figure, inclining his head gravely, picking up a stray beetle with his beak, swallowing it, and, that done, inclining his head gravely back up again. Any lingering doubt I had that I was addressing turtles was extinguished. And to be frank with you, I hadn't had many lingering doubts. They looked like turtles and one of them had just said they were turtles. "I must apologise for my rudeness, signors. They have no idea that were turtles living and working in Renaissance Florence."
Raphael:
"Then what did you think the Reptilian Quarter was for?"
Newt:
asked the younger, his eyes flashing between the nictitating membrane of his third eyelids.
Michelangelo:
"Peace, Raphael,"
Newt:
cautioned the elder, laying a restraining flipper on his shell.
Michelangelo:
"Our visitor meant no harm. And besides, you must admit the Reptilian Quarter is 90% lizards these days."
Newt:
At this, Raphael threw back his head and laughed, the low lamplight glinting off the serrated ridges within his beak.
Raphael:
"True enough,"
Newt:
said he.
Raphael:
"Then enter, stranger, for if I mistake not, you wish to see our paintings."
Newt:
"Your paintings? Forgive me. I was not aware that turtles could paint."
Michelangelo:
"In truth, most cannot. But my comrade and I are the sufferers, or perhaps the beneficiaries, of a curious mutation, which allows us, unusually among turtles, to grasp the concept of pictorial representation, and also to hold a paintbrush."
Raphael:
"And talk."
Michelangelo:
"Oh, yes, that's true. We can talk."
Newt:
I gasped again. "Mutant turtles! This explains much which has been puzzling me, signors -- your size, for instance. Most fully grown turtles are in the region of 20 to 30 inches, whereas you of course are both--"
Michelangelo:
"Somewhat smaller, yes. But in fact, that is not part of the mutation. My comrade and I, you see, are not fully grown. I am only 17 years old and young Raphael here is but 14."
Newt:
I gasped once more. "Teenage mutant turtles!"
Raphael:
"Be that as it may,"
Newt:
said Raphael impatiently.
Raphael:
"Perhaps we should let the work speak for itself."
Newt:
And so saying, he reached up with careless flipper to the shrouded canvases and, using the opposable thumbs recently mutated onto the end of it, twitched the dust sheet to the floor. I gasped yet again. It has been a big day for gasping but in my defence, some turtles were showing me some oil paintings they'd done. "Signors, these! These are masterpieces!"
Raphael:
"Then you will help us? We know who you are, you see, and we wish to enter these paintings into Lord Medici's competition."
Newt:
I sighed. "I wish I could help you. But alas, what you ask is impossible. The rules of the competition are very strict. All exhibitors must be over 20 years of age, and no exhibitor may be entirely enclosed within a carapace of keratinous scales or 'scutes'."
Raphael:
"But Michelangelo here is enclosed in just such a carapace."
Michelangelo:
"And so are you, my friend."
Raphael:
"No, I don't think I... oh, yes, you're quite right. So I am! Ugh, then it's hopeless."
Newt:
"Ah, perhaps not. I believe I have an idea. What if--" [knocking] But! at that very moment, we were interrupted by two genial young men from the bottega below.
[door opening]
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
[in heavy Italian accents] "Hello, it's a pizza delivery."
Pizza Delivery Guy #2:
"Si, si! You call-a for da pizza, we bring-a you da pizza."
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"That's right, we're just a couple of pizza delivery guys right here!"
Pizza Delivery Guy #2:
"Si, si! Two guys over the age of 20. Just a-lookin' to be paid to do a simple job."
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"That's a-right! In this case, delivering pizzas."
Pizza Delivery Guy #2:
"Si, si. I'm just a-saying, we probably do other jobs too."
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"But that’s a-right, of course we would! Anyway, here are your pizzas."
Michelangelo:
"Thank you. I'm sorry, signor, you were saying?"
Newt:
"Yes, I... Oh, I seem to have lost my train of thought."
Raphael:
"I believe you were saying that even though shell-wearers are forbidden, there might still be a way we could enter the competition."
Newt:
"Ah, yes, what--"
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"Okay, so us two normal looking human guys, we'll be off now, eh?"
Pizza Delivery Guy #2:
"Si, si. But a-by the way, what's the matter with your doorbell, eh?"
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"That's a-right. You no hear? We ring it for ages! We ring-a and we ring-a..."
Pizza Delivery Guy #2:
"Si, si. He ring-a, and I ring-a."
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"That's a-right, we both ring-a," [losing Italian accent] "we both acted as ringers."
Newt: "No, the idea is gone entirely now." But eventually I had another idea and we paid the two young men handsomely to pose as Michelangelo and Raphael for the competition. And when Medici came to award the prizes, my Colognian friends and I, heavily disguised, were lurking in the shadows at the gallery.
Art critic:
"Hi, hi, so, yeah, loads to enjoy here today, really super stuff, some seriously top notch arting going on from all you art guys. Oh, I loved this, big woman here with a, you know, and the flying babies -- just super. And this chap over here with a sort of barbecue affair, well he looks like a lot of fun, but hands down, Best in Show as it were, runaway winners, these two new chaps, Michelangelo and uh... Raffles. Am I saying that right? [applause] Bloody well done!"
Newt:
The gallery erupted in cheers and our ringers beamed with battled delight, as the crowd thronged round them in congratulation.
Raphael:
"Now!"
Newt:
said Raphael, from beneath his shell-covering cloak.
Raphael:
"Now we throw off our disguise and claim our rightful prize!"
Newt:
But once again his comrade laid a cautionary flipper on his carapace.
Michelangelo:
"Wait, Raphael. Look at those two simple Italian stereotypes. Look how happy they are."
Pizza Delivery Guy #2:
"Si, si! I'm over da moon!"
Pizza Delivery Guy #1:
"That's a-right, I'm a-walking on sunshine!"
Michelangelo:
"Have you the heart to take it away from them? After all, what need have we of fame and riches? We're turtles. We already have more than enough money to buy the algae, other aquatic vegetation, and small invertebrates we require. In fact, sometimes you can even get those things for free."
Newt:
Silently, his comrade nodded his assent, and with a swish of their cloaks, they turned and waddled off into Florentine night. I gasped for a fifth and final time. Teenage mutant hero turtles.
[outro music]
John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme was written and performed by John Finnemore, with Margaret Cabourn-Smith, Simon Kane, Lawry Lewin, and Carrie Quinlan. Original music was composed by Susannah Pearse and arranged by Susannah Pearse and Tim Sutton. The producer was Ed Morrish and it was a BBC Studios production.
Russ:
[singing] "Heroes in a half shell!"
Newt:
Heroes, as you so rightly say, in a half shell. And also in another half shell ventrally, making up the full shell.
Deborah:
Russ, over here!
Newt:
Goodbye.