With the light fading, this long-awaited series comes to its long-awaited end. We hope it has brought some fun and frivolity to your otherwise dank existence but, if it hasn't, may we suggest you complain to the BBC, as they've much more time on their hands than we have right now. While you dip your nib in green ink, why not listen with your lugholes as amateur hotel critic Peter Pilbeam ventures further afield than ever before, Farmer Collins offers more musical silage, and Eric Halibut pawns his own mother to pay for a subscription to Disney+. On behalf of the group, thank you so much for listening, and please feel safe in the knowledge that everything that can be done has been done. Rest assured that a book of the series is not available from Faber or Faber, or anywhere else, for that matter, and everything else has been destroyed in a controlled explosion. We're outta here.
Put on your boogie shoes and listen to this week's collection of lunatic skits and whatnot, or vice versa. Trilby hats are well to the fore, along with a giant aubergine and a cucumber sandwich or two, but all is not as it seems - or is it? Or, indeed, isn't it? Become a hit at parties simply by tuning in, identify the cast members and what sordid secrets the producers are holding against them in leverage to secure their participation, and that all-important gas cooker could be yours. Swing it, daddio!
Believe it or not, someone who purports to be 80s pop star Nik Kershaw makes a guest appearance in this week's fun-filled show, in which a jingle is played backwards. But what does he - or anyone else, for that matter - know about crockery belonging to Nobel prize winners? And can The Actor Greg Haiste complete his own joke before it's too late? Listen in wonder, bemusement and more than a little exasperation, as we bring you another genuine edition of the programme, partly made from old mattresses. God bless.
Why not walk around your garden while listening to this week's episode, part of which comes to you from a cupboard on the back lot at Universal Studios? If you don't have a garden of your own, why not walk around someone else's garden, such as the President of the United States. His security detail will be very happy to see you. Whilst you're perambulating, listen to this week's show, which features the latest hopeless opus from agricultural singer-songwriter Farmer Collins, a mention of Basil Rathbone of Rhyl, and some terrible guitar playing. We could tell you more, but we'd have to kill you.
In this week's jam-packed episode, which was constructed with the aid of a complex arrangement of ropes and pulleys, we take a sideways look at the week's biscuits. A Jammie Dodger from Tinseltown tells some tall tales and, due to circumstances beyond our Fig Roll, more of your letters and emails are given an airing in Dear Dredge, although sometimes we wonder why we bother. So don't be a Ginger Nut - clear the surrounding area and stand by with at least four cups of tea. It's going to be one Hell of a show!
Well, if it isn't the long-awaited return of our long-awaited show. If it isn't, we don't know what it is. If you happen to know, write to the usual address and you could win a clock radio. That's right, we've somehow managed to re-engage our cast of several to bring you a fresh set of Smurftastic sketches and sounds from the very epicentre of something, including a highly unentertaining quiz for schools, the puzzling reappearance of film director and weird man David Lynch, and more information about Leighton Buzzard than you can shake a stick at.
It's the last episode of this hugely inflatable series, which can only mean one thing: yes, it's the last episode of the series. Or is it? Yes, it is. And we end it all in style with a whole host of famous guests flown in from all over Melton Mowbray. But where are Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Grumpy, Grover and Muriel? Who is the mysterious 'Frank Muir?' And why is Planet Skaro closed for repair? Find out in this, the Year of the Mahogany Sideboard. And whatever the conclusion, we hope you've enjoyed whatever this has been. Thank you for your time and effort. And do remember to keep 'em peeled. They taste awful with the skin left on.
Well done for making it to Episode Five, where we count our chickens both before and after the return of agricultural icon Farmer Collins, just for good measure. Ralph Ploojagig doesn't make an appearance this week - or any other week, for that matter - but perhaps Sunday Brunch will take him under their wing and give him some hot broth or both. Also, part of this week's programme will be in color... but which one? And can you find the missing U in 'color'? Write it in the margin of your Radio Times before you start listening and you too could win a signed super deluxe edition of Larry the Lamb Lies Down on Broadway in this, the Year of the Aardvark.
This week John looks at the rising problem of cellophane. He also meets a man in the street who takes a dim view of electricity, along with a porcupine called Ronald who emits squeaking noises (the two may be related). Plus catch up with the show's free-falling producer Richard Cray as he spends a welcome break in hospital. Why not send him hard-boiled eggs or nuts, or some such? (The two may be related.) Yes, it's all here - but why? And should it really be somewhere else? Find out, if you can, in this, the Year of the Plinth.
Today's low, low budget episode is brought to you by Kludge, which now comes in a handy three-ounce tin. On the 'show', for want of a more apposite description, you'll hear details of how to join our fan club, which proudly boasts over three members, many of them still alive. We welcome David Lynch as himself, sadly, and there is entertainment of an unusual nature when Harold the Mad Pianist emerges from a vat of soup to play for both King and country in this, the Year of the Mungbean.
In this week's slightly concave episode, John stumbles on the secret of life but loses it again during a particularly dramatic game of Buckaroo, and a man who lives on top of your TV set becomes embroiled in string. In the words of Twig Harper, never ever ever ever EVER forget that, whatever this programme contains, standards will be upheld in this, the Year of the Cube.
John Dredge returns with a new series that really lets the flavour flood out. False claims aside, car parks will be all the rage in this, the first episode since the last one, so spare a thought for things both hither and yon. Non-special guests include avant-garde composer Arnold Schoenberg, who will be communicating in his own inimitable style. Classical actor Greg Haiste returns to the fray for free, not that there was any money left in the piggy bank after we bought all those biscuits, and silage will definitely be to the fore in this, the Year of the Cagoule. So sit back, relax, pull your chair up to the ceiling, and let John and his cast of 48,000 do the rest. It's a gas!
In the last but also final programme of the series there are gannets for all the family, but it's the raspberries you need to watch out for. Tyne and also Wear are on the agenda, along with Leighton Buzzard, You and Yours, and the front door. Original beat combo The Garglers make an unwelcome reappearance, as does Terry, and, indeed, June. But will the theme tune explode? Where have all the rostrum cameras gone? And is Don Durbridge as slightly odd as he seems? Goodbye H'Eric!
In this week's barnstorming brouhaha of balderdash, agricultural singer/songwriter Farmer Collins goes more beserker than ever before. There's an exclusive wait as part of our detective serial which I've forgotten the title of, and Kojak tries to get out of Birmingham in his own inimitable style. Despite this, Leighton Buzzard shines forth once again, but do bring a puncture-repair kit just in case.
This week's barmy bonanza of bits and pieces brings you the BBC Mallard Orchestra direct from the lake, like, and there's a rather unusual visitor for both Terry and, indeed, June. We present an extremely dangerous space adventure complete with ice lollies, but who is Barry Morse? And can you think of a link? (Please note: Eeeee is pronounced eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Thank you.)
Nah den, in this week's 'programme' there's an exclusive Spot the Spatula competition (weather permitting), and we take a detailed look at the sporting world of sport, although it is rather difficult in this light. There are sessions from The Thwarted Postmen and Nancarrow's Not Normal, and children's favourite Basil the Cylinder nearly has another exciting adventure. But who's Binky when he's at home? Find out tonight, before the xylophones get you.
This week's show is held together with a special adhesive - but which one? Tune in and find out! There's an unusual vocal performance from Farmer Collins, who makes a special guest appearance by arrangement with silt, and when it comes to plans for chart domination there's no one quite like Numan. Tired and emotional? So is Trip Advisor expert Peter Pilbeam who gives us another hotel review for some reason, but who is Monty Modlyn? And is David Lynch really Keith Chegwin? Bunkers!
Let the fuzz ducks be unfurled once more as we present a seriously weird show, filled full of a galaxy of stars from all over Catford. David Lynch returns to read the weather forecast despite a landmark court ruling, and there's radiophonic stomachs a-plenty from both far and wide, and in that order. To be fair though, the gasman appears to be present and correct, but all is not as it seems. Or is it? Biscuits!
It'll take a lorry load of dynamite to stop us - and that's exactly what this week's episode provides. We also have several less than special guests, each bringing something to the table in their own inimitable style. But where are the chairs? Is it standing room only? Will the fuzz duck win through? And, if so, win through what? Tune in and find out in tonight's concluding audiotronic showdown... before it's too late!
An exciting detective serial doesn't kick off this week's programme. In fact, the serial comes slightly later into the show than you might think, although just how far in you think it is I have no idea. Never mind, though, as artichokes are very much to the fore tonight, along with classic U-boats and sundry assorted burgon dispensers. Ka-pow!