Porridge

Please tell my husband Kevin,

tell him I love him and I can't wait

for the day when he comes home.

How long is he going to be away?

About two years.

Kevin, Harry Nilsson sings

"Without You", just for you.

Excuse me! Eh?

Can I cadge a lift? No, you see... Beal. I've

just been posted here. Oh! A brother officer!

Of course. It'll save me the cab fare.

Aye... well, I'd still claim for it!

Thank you.

What's laddo in for? Oh, it's...

er, it's better not to ask.

In my experience, if you know what a man's done, it

may prejudice you against him. Best to start clean.

Find out what he IS,

not what he was.

What you in for, son? Two years. I

didn't mean time. I meant offence!

None taken.

We know HIS sort! See if he's still

smiling at the end of next week!

It's bleak at this time of year, but in

the summer there are some lovely views.

Where's the nearest town?

There isn't one!

Huh!

Got something to say?

You're as much prisoners as we are!

# Well, I can't forget this evening

Or your face as you were leaving

# But I guess

that's just the way the story goes

# You always smile

But in your eyes your sorrow shows

# Yes, it shows.

# I can't live

# If living is without you

# I can't live

# I can't give any more... #

SONG CONTINUES ON RADIO

One diary; Sellotape; one return

ticket, Covent Garden to Ongar.

That's one journey you won't

be making for a while! Ring.

That's my wedding ring.

Married, at your age? Daft!

Ah, nice one, Harry.

Today's weather. A maximum high

of minus 2. Sleet and hail.

But that won't bring us down!

# In the deserts of Sudan,

# And the gardens of Japan

# From Milan to Yucatan

# Every woman's every man

# Hit me with your rhythm stick

# Hit me, hit me!

# Je t'adore, ich liebe dich

# Hit me, hit me, hit me

# Hit me with your rhythm stick

# Hit me slowly, hit me quick

# Hit me! #

RADIO MUSIC CONTINUES

Pick that up, Ives!

What's YOUR name?

Rudge.

Mr McKay. Mr McKay. There are only

two rules in this prison, Rudge.

you do not write on the walls.

you obey all the rules.

All right?

Carry on.

# It's nice to be a lunatic!

# Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!

# Hit me, hit me, HIT! #

# Do you see yon screw

With his looks so vain?

# With his brand new keys

On his brand new chain?

# With a face like a ferret

And a pea for a brain?

# And his hand on his whistle

In the morning #

Is that you, Fletcher?

Is that me what, sir?

Satirical singing. "John Peel"? Traditional, sir.

Second only to my favourite, "Scotland The Brave"!

# Come where the 'ands are clapping

Come where the toes are tapping

# Come where the Jocks

are strapping... # Fletcher! Sir.

If you want to sing, I suggest

you form a Slade Prison Glee Club!

Glee?!

Got any snout?

What if I have?

If you have, all right. If you

hadn't, I'd offer you some. Got me own!

Fair enough.

Lennie Godber.

Ooh, Fletch? I'm late.

Read me this letter from the wife.

How do you know who it's from?

It's got her scent.

Oh, dear! Does she work

in a tarpaulin factory?

Just read it.

I'll give you the highlights.

"Dearest Bunny, Blah, blah blah,

"blah blah, blah, blah...

"blah blah, blah...

Blah what? It's just trivia.

Her mother's catarrh, she's retiled the

lav, the canary's got haemorrhoids...

She's met a welder

and she might move in with him.

All right?

Must be off, can't hang about.

We haven't got a canary!

These men are gainfully employed in

the manufacture of prison uniforms.

I'm going to open a boutique

That'll do, Armstrong!

We also make metal dustbins.

Then there's the electrical shop,

maintenance, laundry and farm...

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