01x01 - Episode 1

[bunniefuu]

That's all for today.
Same time tomorrow?

Why not? See you at
six. MADELINE CHUCKLES

And that's us off air.
Thank you, studio.

Thanks very much.

Er, Jenny will see you off
set. Was I OK with George?

Sorry, what?
Pensions minister?

Hm? Well, did I get
the right figures?

Just a sec. What, are
you looking it up?

No, no. BOTH CHUCKLE

How was the wedding? Wedding?

Er, your cousin's, wasn't
it? Oh, yes, it was fine.

Was I OK with the
pensions minister?

Yeah, of course. I mean,
were my figures right?

Well, not yet, but
we'll do some research.

Thanks. Babes. Nice one today.

Er, cheers.

Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.

Big one, was it? Big what?

The wedding, was it big?

Well, yeah, I suppose. I
left my coat somewhere.

Make-up. I put it in
your dressing room.

Thanks. How many guests?

I don't know. 200, 300.

Oh, nice. So, er, just
the right size, then.

Yeah.

Closer to two or
three? I'm sorry?

Closer to 200 or 300,
what would you say?

More than 300? 350?
Is something wrong?

There's, er, been a
tweet. What tweet?

This one.

Basically, you were overheard.
Being a bit loud, were you?

Well, this is
nothing. OK. Good.

I mean, it's nothing,
isn't it? Is it?

Of course it's nothing. Well,
that's a relief. I'm so glad.

I was at a family
wedding, for God's sake.

Yeah, exactly, a family wedding.

Whose business is that?
Nobody's business.

It's not even worth talking about.
We don't have to talk about it.

Do you wanna talk
about it? No.

Good. Good, then. Let's not do
that, let's not talk about it.

Let's start with an
account of what happened.

An honest account.

No, an account. We can move
in the direction of honesty

once we've decided on the facts.
In the direction of honesty?

I'm not ruling out
honesty at this stage.

So, you were at the wedding,
it's the evening do, it's late.

Er, I was a little drunk.

Not in my opinion. I'm sorry?

I disagree about you being
drunk. You weren't there.

We're journalists,
we're never there.

Having opinions about
things we didn't witness

is the entire point
of our existence.

We are the brave few who
turn up after the event

and explain it to everyone
else who missed it.

How do you get through the
day being this cynical?

Unhurt. So, at some point,

surrounded by friends,
probably laughing friends,

you made some sort of a joke.

A harmless joke. Harmless?

Yes, harmless,
completely harmless.

"Overheard. Presenter
Douglas Bellowes

"making an extremely sexist joke
at a wedding party." I didn't...

"Disgusted." The tweeter doesn't
seem to think it was harmless.

Why's that, do you think?

Because the tweeter is
an idiot. Tell me more.

I don't know any more.

I didn't see her, I
didn't even notice her.

But you know about the idiocy.
I'm assuming the idiocy.

Because of a single tweet
accusing you of sexism.

Yes! Ironically enough.

Ironically? Because you're also
assuming the tweeter's a woman.

Oh, Christ!

Patrick Harland. Man,
I'd say, wouldn't you?

Yes, that does seem likely.
He/him. Sounds pretty sure.

What was the joke?
I don't know.

You don't know? I don't
remember what I said.

It was a wedding three days ago, I
was drinking, why would I remember?

OK, I see.

So, you don't remember the joke,
but you do remember it was harmless.

Yes. Just like you remember that
someone you never even noticed

is an idiot and a woman,

just because she, oops, he remembers
an event differently from you?

Yes! Even though you
don't remember it at all?

I'm just telling you the truth.
Isn't that what you want?

Well, the truth is useful, yes,

but I'd prefer something
a little more balanced.

We're in news, truth is
only one side of the story.

This isn't news. It's going
to be news - it's you.

Like it or not, Douglas,
and I don't much,

there are a rare
few in this world

who carry the burden
of power and influence.

And five evenings a week, you
walk into a television studio

and read out their
names from an autocue.

Now, it's a fact that
audiences, over time,

begin to associate television
presenters with real people.

It's deluded, but
it's inevitable.

In every crisis and natural
disaster for the last ten years,

they've seen you, out there on the
front line, introducing the footage.

For over a decade, your face has
been the clear popular choice

for wars, famines,
atrocities, and royals.

When a national treasure dies,
it comes out of your mouth.

As far as our viewers
are concerned,

your voice is what makes
famous people dead.

So please use that instrument
of death with care.

How many times do I have to tell
you? When you're out in public,

when civilians can hear you,

you must be balanced,
boring and bland.

You should be aspiring to
net zero cognitive content.

Not slobbering out witticisms

like you've cornered the weather
girl at the Christmas party.

Well, what about Madeline?

Madeline? She's all
over social media.

She might see this. So what?

Well, she's... You
know... What is she?

Well, she's...
Sometimes, she's...

I'm holding my breath in
terror at your next adjective,

and praying it will not refer
to the fact that she's female.

Well, Madeline is...
Madeline. Well done.

Net zero cognitive content?
Verging on Thought For The Day.

Madeline will be fine. She
adores you, you know that.

OK. Everyone knows that.

Sorry, what? He's
got 300 followers!

Who has? Patrick Harland.

The tweeter. 300,
well... That's nothing.

That's just friends and friends of
friends and a bot farm in Russia.

He's getting retweeted. The
retweets are getting retweeted.

It'll blow over.

Look, I've got a dinner
thing, I'll talk to you later.

I've got it on live update.
It's coming in waves now.

It's like being
Michael Caine in Zulu.

It's nothing, it'll burn
itself out. I'll see you.

Douglas. Seriously.
What was the joke?

I really don't remember.

I hate jokes. Why can't
people just say things?

Hey, Madeline.
Gotta run, sorry.

Good show, let's do
another one tomorrow.

Yeah, tomorrow.

I wasn't being r*cist,
by the way. I'm sorry?

I appreciate that Michael Caine
was basically the aggressor.

Oh, shut up!

Hey.

Straight home? Yeah, thanks.

Got himself into trouble,
hasn't he, your fella?

My fella? Yeah.

Douglas what's-his-name.

My co-presenter.
Your fella, yeah.

What's he done
now? Told a joke.

A sexist joke, it's
all over Twitter.

Hm. Sounds like him. Was it
funny? Didn't say if it was funny.

Just said that it was
sexist. Sounds like Twitter.

Or do we call it X
now? I can't keep up.

I don't think anyone can. Hey!
You got the figures right.

With the pensions
guy, you were good.

You were looking it
up! Course I was.

You were checking on me?

I mean, you were
factually wrong,

but I've figured out a way
you can be kind of right.

So you haven't screwed up.

What if I had?

Oh, I'd have thrown you
to the wolves, mate.

Right, OK. Wolves, that's fair.

I'll phone you later
about the thing tomorrow?

You know, the link-up thing?

Yeah, give me a couple of hours,
I've got dinner with my agent. OK.

No, phone me during
dinner, I hate my agent.

MADELINE LAUGHS You got it.

My wife thinks you've
got chemistry. Excuse me?

You and him, on telly. She
thinks you've got chemistry.

Well, isn't that nice.

How do you do that, then,
create chemistry on telly?

Just, er, sitting on a sofa?

Well, generally you make the
bloke about 20 years older.

DRIVER CHUCKLES

On Twitter, yeah?
The joke? Yep.

LIVELY CHATTER

Jason Wellings. Jason?

Cancer. Bad kind.

It's a big secret.
Not sure who knows.

Jason's dead. Dead?

He died three
weeks ago. Of what?

Cancer. That was sudden.

Well, no, it
wasn't. Was to me.

OK, about this
Twitter thing... Yeah.

What do you think? Do you
think there's a problem here?

I mean, should I be doing
anything? Talking to anyone?

Any ideas, any
suggestions? Hang on.

Hang on, hang on.

Oh, God, where is
it? Oh, there we go.

What's this? My neighbour's
son is a big fan.

He wanted a signed
photograph. That OK?

Erm... Well, sure.
Thanks. He'll be thrilled.

I need my neighbour
to owe me a favour.

My husband's pressuring
for a gazebo. Mm.

OK, about the Twitter thing?

Ah, Twitter! Twitter, Twitter!

What can you do? Well,
yes. What can I do?

Exactly. What can anyone do?

Well, are you worried about
it? The tweet about me?

Are you worried about it?

No, of course not. Really?
Good, that's a relief.

A relief? Yeah. Big
load off, thanks.

So you are worried? Not
now. You reassured me.

Quite honestly, I was bricking
it. You haven't touched your food.

But, er... Yeah. No, but...

in the unlikely
event that, you know,

there's any kind of a problem...

This is Madeline.

Yeah. Neighbour's son, big fan.
Can you get her to sign it?

Well, she doesn't like this
picture. She regretted it.

She'd prefer to look more serious.
It's his favourite photo, though.

He's got hundreds of
them in his bedroom,

but that's the one
under his pillow.

He's got underpants with that
photo on them. Underpants!

I don't think she'll be happy
signing this photo for a child.

He's 38.

WAITER: Is that
Madeline Crow? Yes.

TRAIN RUMBLES

You OK? Yeah.

Did you find that thing
about the joke? Yep.

Did you find out what
the joke was? No.

ELECTRONIC BEEP

So, what was the joke at the
wedding? The misogynist joke?

It wasn't misogynist,
it was sexist.

Are those different? Well,
of course they're different.

What, so there's misogyny
AND sexism now? Yes!

How am I supposed to
remember two things?

Look, about this joke...
Yeah. What was it?

I don't actually remember
it. Yeah, but seriously...

I'm being serious.

Well, it was probably just
one of your usual ones, yeah?

My usual ones? Your
usual misogynist ones.

It was sexist, not misogynist.
Look, my point is...

in the event that
anything happens,

if anyone says anything or
accuses me of anything...

what do we do?

Oh, simple. It's
a piece of piss.

There's a whole agency
playbook for that. OK.

Well, we release a
carefully worded statement.

Saying what? Well,
apologising, obviously,

expressing remorse,
obviously. Yes, obviously.

And then explaining
with great regret

this agency is now severing its
connection with Douglas Bellowes,

following his recent
unacceptable remarks.

How does that help me?

In the global sense.
The global sense?

Well, someone has to take
one for the team. What team?

Team you and me. And it's me.

Well, you're the misogynist.
No, I'm the sexist!

Look. It won't come to it,

but I'll draft
something this evening,

run it by you. You
can put a quote in.

Thanks [!]

Anyway, let's not dwell on
it. It's too depressing.

So... Jason
Wellings, dead. Yes.

Cancer?

Yes.

Was it the bad kind?

Yes.

PHONE VIBRATES

Do you mind? No, no, go ahead.

Toby? It's gone nuclear.

What has? The tweet.

What happened?

Are you in a restaurant? If so,
please step away from the table.

What happened? Madeline.

And Madeline and
Douglas join me now.

Such a success
Live At 6 has been.

You must be thrilled. We're
absolutely over the moon.

Absolutely, yeah. It's
been fantastic. Incredible.

So, how did you two first
meet? Was it on the show?

Er, well, it would have been
just before, I guess. Yeah, yeah.

Probably auditioning you.
No, he did not audition me.

Well, probably...
You did not, OK?

Probably auditioned her a
bit. Stop that right there!

So, did he offer you any advice?

Oh, he's never stopped. He's
at that age, though, isn't he?

You know, he just
goes on and on.

I think he keeps going
when I'm not in the room.

Yeah. Just an old granddad,
really, droning on. That's true.

So, what was the first
piece of advice he gave you?

Erm... he told me it was
worth it. Er, this job.

He told me whatever you
have to wade through,

this job is, er... is worth it.

Why are you watching this?

Oh. Hi!

Er... Sorry, it was in
your saved programmes.

You were outside in the car.

I thought maybe you were working
or on the phone or some sh*t.

Didn't know you'd still be
here. Oh, just passing the time.

Oh, well, I'm kind
of busy tonight.

Well, I could cook for
you. I'll get a takeaway.

Oh, you don't need to. I know
I don't. But I'm going to.

Oh, OK.

Ah, it's just, you
know, busy, busy.

Yeah. Well, I'll just, er,
you know... I'll see you.

Right, well. I'll
call you. OK.

Or text you? Yeah, text.

Right, well, listen. Hey,
thanks for, you know...

It's fine. Yeah.

Yeah.

Did I say that? I don't
remember saying that.

Yep, you said it.
"Wade"? Did I say "wade"?

Yeah, you said "wade".

Was he right? Was
it worth the "wade"?

Madeline?

I'll let you know.

OK, I'm off home for
the rest of the evening.

Are we OK with page
two? No, but yes.

Tell Trevor something
positive. Anything specific?

God, no, he might believe you.
There's a budget Zoom in ten.

Call me if there's
anything urgent or funny.

Do you wanna stay for the
Zoom? Preferably funny.

You missed the last two.

Sheila? Helen. You
loitering for me?

Erm...

You know that Twitter thing that
I was going to tell you about?

Which you were going
to tell me about?

Erm... the thing about your husband
and the joke at the wedding?

That you were going to tell me
about and apparently didn't?

At the last minute I,
erm... internalised it.

What in the name of God's holy
arse was the point of that?

Somnia said I should internalise
when I'm feeling frightened of you.

Somnia? Who the arsing
tit-wank is Somnia? HR.

Are you OK? Everything's
fine, is it?

Erm, she used to
be called Anita,

but she's sort of
re-imagined herself.

Anita Varma? It's not
Varma any more. OK.

She's, erm, moved on
from her patronymic.

Right. Good!

So, about my husband on
Twitter? What's he done now?

Are you internalising again?

Are you allowed to say out
loud if you are internalising?

Right. Now, listen.

It's OK for you to say
anything you like to me.

You are my PA,

and it would be really, really
helpful if you could speak.

I promise to break
eye contact on request

and will never sustain it
for more than 30 seconds.

Can you just tell me,

with my assurance of your
complete personal safety...

..about my husband on Twitter.

Erm... Yeah. So, he
was at a wedding,

and someone heard him
make a sexist joke.

Which one? Probably just
one of his usual ones.

Which wedding? Oh, erm,
it was three days ago.

Donald's? Oh, God,
he was so pissed.

But I only left him
alone for 20 minutes.

If he's got himself
in trouble again,

that's his look-out.

Let me know if anyone here
wants to write about it.

It's got worse,
though. Worse? How?

Madeline.

f*ck's sake. Why would
she do that? I mean, why?

Well, technically,
she was defending you.

She retweeted it. She
retweeted the bloody tweet.

Yeah, because she
was commenting on it.

"Don't believe this.
Not my co-presenter."

In the process, obviously,
yes, she retweeted it.

She's got about half
a million followers.

No, she's got 2 million.

OK, so that's 2 million
people who've now seen it,

who would never have noticed it
if she'd just left it alone. Yes.

Two million? I've
got one and a half.

It is not, at this precise
moment, a competition.

PHONE VIBRATES, DOUGLAS SIGHS

My wife's calling. 'Talk
to her.' Yeah, in a bit.

If she's seen it, she'll
still be shouting.

Look. Right now, Douglas, I'm
not worried about her shouting,

I'm worried about her newspaper.

PHONE VIBRATES

VIBRATING STOPS

I've gotta run. No problem.

Is that my food?

Didn't think you wanted it.

DOUGLAS: 'Sorry I can't
get to the phone right now.

'Please leave a message
after the beep.'

Douglas, can you just call me
back? This is my fourth message.

I've stopped shouting, I just
want to know what's going on.

Also, for the love of God,
please delete these messages.

I work with people
who hack your phone.

f*ck's sake.

SHE SIGHS

Claudia?

Claudia? Hey, Mum.

Hey. Er, listen, darling,

you've left the front
door open again.

Yeah, doesn't matter.

I'm just telling you
you've left it open.

Yes, I know. Don't worry about
it. The subject is closed.

It will be closed, Claudia,
when the front door is closed.

Why? Because you
keep leaving it open,

and I'm not happy
about that. Why?

SHEILA SPLUTTERS
Because it's important.

Why? Because people might
come into the house.

Oh, what people? I don't know.

Exactly. Jesus, calm down.

Darling, please. This is for
your own personal safety.

Oh, my safety? Yes!

Oh, is it dangerous out there?

Does this mean I won't
be allowed outside now?

Of course you're
allowed outside.

Well, if it's safe
for me to be outside,

why isn't it safe to
leave the door open?

Claudia, there's a lot of
valuable stuff in this house,

and surprisingly enough,
we don't want it stolen.

Oh, so it's all about
your possessions,

and who cares if I get r*ped?

Please, can you stop finding
a reason to argue with me

every single time we speak?

Stop criticising me!

Oh, Claudia, please can
it not be like this?

Not every single time we talk.

Oh, now you're gonna cry!

You always start crying,
Mum. Stop doing that to me.

I'm not doing anything
to you! Stop shouting!

Hey. Dad, somebody left
the front door open,

and Mum just assumes it was me.

Because it was you.
Let it go, Mum.

Drink? Oh, please, God, yes.
Give me wine or give me death.

She never stops. She
goes at me all the time.

Like just looking at me
sends her into a rage.

The minute we make eye
contact, her shoulders flex.

They just sort of pop up, like...
like an emergency life jacket.

She's 19. Sometimes, she
follows me to the loo,

stands outside the door
and just keeps going.

I am critiqued
sitting on the loo.

Yeah, she's kind of
intense at the moment.

I flushed while she was talking.

She called it a
micro-aggression. Mm.

You're not reading
your emails again.

Someone from Hay wants to talk
to you. Does that make sense?

Mm, the Hay Festival. I told
you, I'm doing an interview.

What about? Well,
me, hopefully.

I don't really know
about anything else.

No, but seriously,
what's it about?

It's not about anything. Well,
keep it that way. No opinions.

People might be listening.

Might be? Opinions are
blood in the water.

Dare to be bland.

Well, what's wrong with my opinions?
You don't have opinions, darling,

you're just cross at
whatever's available.

OK, bland. I'll be bland.
Bland is good, bland survives.

Anyway... Madeline. What
the hell is Madeline up to?

Look, in fairness, she
was just being supportive.

Oh, no, come on. You're
not going to defend her?

She commented on the
tweet in my defence. Look.

And by commenting on the tweet,

she retweeted the tweet
to 2 million people,

most of whom would never
have seen it any other way,

some of whom are press.

Can you believe she's got


OK, then. The papers.
What do you think?

Would your lot bother with this?
Don't know. Don't think so.

Well, you're the editor.
I can't play favourites.

I could see it on page
five if it's a slow day.

HE GROANS Cheer up.

There might be an atrocity.
Well, there's a w*r,

there's flooding every
second Wednesday,

there's a climate crisis.
I mean a proper atrocity.

Someone off Blue Peter
having a wank on a webcam.

Oh, for Christ's sake.
A drive-by deadnaming.

A-A royal being slightly
off-hand to a minority...

There is still actual news
in the world, isn't there?

I mean, things are
still happening,

or did it all just stop
and I didn't notice?

Darling, there is all the
human misery and suffering

a journalist could wish for.

But we live in a world
where a newsreader's arse

can push a w*r off
the front page.

And you, my dear,
like it or not,

are in possession of
a newsreader's arse.

Handle it with care.

Well, according to Toby, my
voice is an instrument of death.

Is it my arse now?
They're both good, honey.

Just remember which
one to talk out of.

Madeline was not defending you.

Of course she was. We're
friends. No, you're colleagues.

We're on the same
side. We're a team.

Look at what she actually said.

Yeah, look at it.

"Don't believe this.
Not my co-presenter."

So she's saying she doesn't believe
her co-presenter behaved like that

because she knows him so
well. Exactly. That's good.

Or she's describing your
behaviour as unbelievable

and saying she no longer
wants you as her co-presenter.

Do you think?

Headline, "Not my co-presenter,
says Madeline Crow."

Photo of you. One of the blurry
ones where you look a bit drunk.

We have seven. Next to
that, a photo of Madeline.

Shiny hair, blow job eyes.
We've got exactly 12 million.

Sub-header, "Douglas Bellowes
blasted for sexist joke."

You see? First impact,

it's sexy Madeline who's
blasting blurry Douglas.

Of course, when you
read the article,

we clarify the actual blasting
comes from some guy online

who no-one cares about,
but our work is done.

Because, my darling, here's
the big, big secret -

no-one reads the article.

They're all too busy
tweeting angry opinions

about whatever conclusion
they've just jumped to.

Outrage is exciting, nuance
is work. Douglas is cancelled.

Well, I mean it takes
more than one article.

Of course it doesn't.

Well, what happened to the
presumption of innocence?

It's too slow for the news
cycle. OK, but seriously...

would you run with
this? I don't think so.

I don't think anyone will.
There's not enough to it.

But fair play to Madeline,
she's given it her best shot.

She didn't do it on purpose.
She was just ambiguous.

That's not ambiguity, that's
plausible deniability.

Madeline's not like that.

Is she? Is she like that?

I don't know Madeline. I
only see her on the telly.

All I know about Madeline
is you talking about her

all the bloody time.

Well, of course you know
her. We never speak.

Every time I walk into a
room, she walks straight out.

Heads for the door like a
m*ssile. Whoosh, slam, gone.

I'd think the two of you
were having an affair

if it wasn't for the saggy
t*ts. She hasn't got saggy t*ts.

I was thinking of yours.
Apparently, you weren't.

I wasn't thinking
of Madeline's t*ts.

Actually, you
were. Not that way.

What way, then? Ironically?

No, I just... Have you noticed

that every conversation always
ends up being about Madeline?

Why is everything about her?

What does Madeline think?
What's Madeline done today?

Why you're cross about
Madeline this time!

No. Don't smile at
me, you were fighting.

No, we weren't. I
heard you shouting.

No, you didn't. We
barely raised our voices.

Oh? Are you keeping
something secret?

We're not fighting, darling.

You were, I can tell.
I can always tell.

And don't lie, I've
already got anxiety today.

MUTTERS: Oh, Christ.

OK, we were fighting
just a little bit

but on the same side against
someone else who isn't here,

so we're... taking it
out on each other. Mm.

It's called marriage. Hm.

Was it about Madeline?

Jesus. Madeline? Why
would it be Madeline?

Mum calls her
names. No, I don't.

What names? Thin.
Thin's not a name.

Thin's a description.
You always say it.

She's always thin. Are you
fighting about the tweet?

The tweet? Yeah, I saw it.

Which one? Which tweet?
About Dad's sexist joke.

The one he told.

At Uncle Rapey's
wedding. Uncle Donald.

Uncle Rapey. I've
told you. About what?

His inappropriate
language around women.

He's not being inappropriate,
he's just being funny.

It's not funny to make
women feel sexually menaced.

Sexually menaced by
Donald? Yes. Who's g*y?

Yes. Who three days ago got married
to another man who's also g*y

so they could be g*y
together in a g*y marriage

and continue to show no
sexual interest in women

for the rest of their g*y lives?

You felt sexually menaced by a man
who's never had a sexual impulse

towards a woman in
his entire g*y life?

OK, boomer. Sorry, just trying
to point out how g*y works.

Oh, it's so good
to be mansplained.

I'm mansplaining a man.
That's got to be legitimate.

Mum, can I talk to Dad?

Oh, go ahead!

In private. Oh,
this is private.

No, it isn't.

Claudia, anything you
want to say to me,

you can say to your mother.

Forget it. Help yourself. I
could do with some time off.

Oh, that's right.
Just walk out on me.

You asked me to
go away! Exactly.

Good luck, darling. Mm.

SHE SIGHS

Dad. What was the
joke at the wedding?

I don't know. The
misogynist joke?

It wasn't misogynist, it was sexist.
Same thing. No, it's really not.

What was the joke, Dad? Sexism
can be prejudicial behaviour

against either sex,
whereas misogyny is only...

Dad. The joke. What was it?

I don't remember.

Is that true? Or are you just
saying that cos you're embarrassed,

and you don't want me
to know what you said?

No, I'm not just saying that.
I really don't remember.

OK.

What's wrong? People at
uni are asking about it.

Well, how do they
even know about it?

Some of them follow
Madeline. Oh!

Also, I'm part of a student
think-tank monitoring the impact

of media celebrities on
minorities - especially women.

Well, women aren't a minority.
Of course they're a minority.

They're the main one. Well,
there are more women than men.

That's a majority. Dad,
take this seriously.

Sorry, did you say
think-tank? Yes, think-tank.

Is there an actual tank, or
do you just meet in a bar?

We meet in a seminar room, on
a weekly basis, which we book.

OK. Not in a bar, Dad.

OK, sorry. None of
us drink, actually.

OK, good for you. Have
you considered starting?

Look, you could get cancelled.
Do you understand that?

I don't want that to happen, Dad, I
really don't. It would destroy me.

And me.

Yeah, and you.

Listen. I don't
remember what I said.

But whatever it was, it
really wasn't that bad.

Promise? Promise. Not lying?

I'm not lying. What...

I don't lie to you.
When do I lie to you?

You're my daughter.
And an activist.

Yeah, my daughter first.
Yeah, yeah. Of course.

And an activist.

And I'm your father
before anything.

Please remember that.
Oh, trust me, Dad,

nobody's forgetting
about the patriarchy.

Oh, Jesus, Claudia. No, I'm
just trying to look out for you.

I'm trying to protect
you. Claudia, believe me.

I'm all over this. I really am.

As it happens, between you
and me, father to daughter,

your daft old dad really, really
doesn't wanna get himself cancelled.

And, Dad... I really,
really don't want

to have to cancel you.

That's... nice.

That's nice to hear.

Sorry to pull you in so late.
It's a little bit urgent.

No, that's OK. Take a seat.

Have you been briefed? Er, no.

No? Don't worry.
I will brief you.

So, er... Douglas. You know
Douglas. Douglas Bellowes?

Yeah. Yeah. You
worked with him?

Well, yeah. Yeah.

Douglas needs an emergency joke.

A w-what? He needs a very
specific emergency joke,

and I need you to provide it.

A joke? Yeah, listen.

At a recent wedding
- one, I must stress,

in no way affiliated
to Live At 6 -

Douglas Bellowes was
overheard telling a joke

which may have been
accidentally sexist.

OK, but why...?
Listen. Just listen.

Douglas can't remember the joke,
and so far, no-one has quoted it.

So this is what we call
in the news business

an opportunity to get
ahead of the facts

and decide what the
joke might've been.

Oh, you mean, like,
make something up?

No, no. Not make something
up. No, not exactly.

It's just that sometimes, when
the facts are a little... hazy,

we need to provide our audience
with clear, directed information

that, as far as possible,

reflects the truth
without actually being it.

OK.

So what I need from you

is a joke sexist enough to
cause comment on Twitter

but not so sexist that it
will end Douglas's career.

Erm... It has to be right
on that borderline between

"offensive to women"
and "charming and sexy".

We really need to dial in on
the precise level of misogyny

that will shock, but
mostly titillate,

Douglas's demographic
of reasonably educated,

marginally self-loathing
housewives.

And he's gonna need some support
on air through an earpiece

for tomorrow night's show in
case he's asked about this.

You know, he might need a
few spontaneous one-liners,

and I'm confident you
are the man for the job.

Why?

Well, because I've been assured
you're our top comedy guy.

Have you signed the NDA? No.

No? Why not?

Well, because I'm your driver.

They asked me to bring HIM in.

I-I've been your
driver for eight years.

Yeah. Well, yeah, yeah,
I know that. Erm...

It's just you're usually...
facing the other way.

How's the missus? Dead.

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Sorry.

Do beg your pardon. Er, bit
of a mix-up. Nobody's fault.

I thought you were
the driver. Oh. OK.

I wasn't being r*cist.

Moira, I think I'm
gonna need an NDA.

It's all over Twitter.

Thanks to bloody Madeline,
it's every bloody place.

Do you think Claudia's a
bit strange these days?

I wouldn't say strange.
No? I'd say frightening.

No, I'm serious. So am I.

It's like we've
lost her to a cult.

We've lost her to a
university. It's similar,

but you still have
to do their laundry.

I'm gonna tell Madeline
to take down the tweet.

Oh, it's too late for that.

Deleting it will only
draw more attention.

Well, then she can
delete the lot.

She can close down her account.
She seems to spend all day online.

It's time she rejoined
the human race.

First thing tomorrow,
I'm telling her.

Deleting her account will
not make a useful difference.

Well, maybe not. But
it'll make a point.

It'll draw a line.

No-one is turning my
daughter against me.

OK.

What do you mean, "OK"?

I said "OK". It means "OK".

You paused. Sorry?

Before "OK", there was a pause.
I know what that pause means.

What does it mean? Nothing.
Doesn't mean anything.

It means you've been angry
with Madeline before.

You've been shouting about
Madeline all over this house.

You threw a juice carton
out of the window once.

It was stuck in the
tree for over a year.

Well, I'm angry again. And
off you go to see Madeline,

and you're really gonna
sort her out this time.

And something... happens.
Well, what happens?

I don't know. But
you come back home,

and you're all calm
again, and you explain

that you and Madeline
have had a chat,

and everything's all fine.
Nothing to worry about.

All smiles... until
the next time.

OK. Well, the... How
does she do that?

I can spend all night trying
to calm you down. Never works.

How does Madeline do
it? What exactly happens

when the two of you have
one of your little chats?

We just talk, OK?
For God's sake.

I completely believe you.
You talk. OK. Fair enough.

Talk about what?

How does Madeline always
get you back on side?

How does she do it?
I mean, is she magic?

She's not getting me
back on side this time.

OK.

Morgan, I need
you to concentrate

on jokes about Twitter for
Douglas, OK? All over that.

He needs to sound relaxed,
witty, good sport.

LAPTOP KEYS CLICK

Give me an example.

Is that it? Has the joke happened?
Because I don't think I laughed.

It's not your fault.
Comedy's hard.

Oh, Douglas! Sorry, I
need to speak to Madeline.

Douglas!

KNOCKS

Just a moment. Madeline?

Just a moment. I
need to talk to you.

Nearly finished, nearly
finished, nearly...

HE EXHALES Nearly,
nearly, nearly...

Madeline? Nearly,
nearly, nearly...

One second. One second.

SHE STUTTERS

All yours.

Madeline... Oh,
look at your face.

You must be wondering
what the hell's going on.

Oh, I'm fairly clear on
one thing that's going on,

and that's the fact
that you... Shut it.

I'm sorry? The door. Shut it.

Idea for a new
sitcom in six parts.

HE SIGHS

Four parts.