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I love fishing, don't you?
I love it when I get a big one on too.
And that's quite enough about me.
In this video, we'll be looking at some of the dodges that some people use to cheat at fishing.
It's not just folks like you or me who get a biggie on, you know.
My word is an absolute stonker.
And as for those of you who think it's just a man's sport, it isn't.
I've seen girls doing it.
I wonder how child is doing.
For some people, it's not just about catching fish, it's about being out there in the fresh air, being at one with nature.
Come on, Andy, we're almost there.
You know what, Wincey, I can't wait to get to the bank.
Now pretend I didn't hear that, Andy.
For others, it's more a question of...
...fishing.
There's lots of ways of improving your look.
Shorten the odds a bit, you know.
Okay, call it cheating.
But can you imagine a shop that's specialized in camouflage for the big fish, Andy?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Is there anybody there?
Good morning, sir. Hello and welcome to Cunning Camouflages, the company for the man who doesn't want to be seen.
Where are you?
I'm here, over here, disguised as a coat. It's very good, isn't it?
And only 52 pounds.
That includes the hanger.
A word of warning, though. One shouldn't approach it at a run.
These tin metal hangers.
Well, you can imagine, I'm sure.
You can mess around as much as you like.
I want something to hide me when I go fishing.
What have you got?
Here I am as a counter.
Find any good, don't you think?
Yours for just 90 pounds. The glass is extra, of course.
Now let me see. Something for the man who fishes.
Well, we've got this on special offer.
All the things one would need to become a tree.
And for just 10 pounds extra, you can have the electronic dot card attachment.
Does it hurt?
The battery's in round the wrong way.
It's the competition anglers I feel sorry for.
They spend ages getting the bait just right.
And they might travel miles to a water they've never fished before.
When it comes to the draw, they come up with a naff peg.
How are you doing, pal?
I've got a hard peg. A very, very hard peg.
Beware of yourself. You've been eating your bait again, haven't you?
You'll put the fish off. Come to think of it,
there's another way to beat the other angler and give you the edge.
See that blonde girl over there?
She's got a lovely tan.
That's my cousin Angelina. Hello, Angelina. Come and meet Raymond.
Angelina's just got back from the holidays with a friend.
You know the one?
She's got the chit thing.
A crossroad for Mrs Dingleys, Farriton and Crumpley and Carver.
Are they all listeners?
Could I have a look?
See, that's what they mean by local knowledge.
Everybody around here knows she's not my cousin.
But he doesn't know she's not my cousin.
Hello.
Hello.
Hello.
I thought I'd just wind him up with you. Pretend you're not cousin.
I think she's forgotten she's my fiance.
Hey, Angelina! Angelina!
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It's the executive's choice.
Here, Harry, you mind if I come round and clean your loft out tomorrow?
Badbury's. Because you can't beat executive relief.
I thought I'd try out this tree with these guys today.
Because it's a really big trout and it's holed up under the bankside undergrowth.
I've tried to get a fly out to him in the past, but he's always disappeared.
I think I stand a lot better chance with this disguise on.
I'll try again. I've nearly got it to him.
Oh, oh, a dog.
Good job I've got the electronic dog guy that comes with this tree disguise.
Now what was it, the man at the shop, say?
And for just £10 extra, you can have the electronic dog card attachment.
Does it hurt?
Only if you get the batteries in round the corner.
What a prep.
In the water with him, lads.
Since the 1920s, women have maintained an ambival record of catching the biggest salmon.
After all, more men than women go fishing.
The answer, claims science, is in one word.
Pheromones.
The personal scent of a woman, it's claimed, can attract her grown male son.
Is this fascinating claim true today?
Pheromones.
Don't you wish you could get hold of hers?
And action.
Welcome to the Coronets and Coroners annual fishing match.
Celebrities from the wacky world of shows are invited here to prove that not only do they have audiences eating out of their hands,
good fish too.
And even as I speak, we can see them arriving at the count.
Oh, it was Phil.
Sorry, my mistake.
Colonels.
I am indeed highly honored to meet you.
Hi Charles.
She learning actress.
There is someone else trying to bust in on the ticket.
Busting on her ticket?
Oh really?
First of all it was that Australian Prime Minister, what's his name?
Paul Keating.
Talking about busting up the commonwealth.
Now you want to bust Michelle's ticket.
Bloody Australians.
You are the same if you ask me.
Now from the publishers of some of your favorite fishing titles comes this season's selection.
Books from the pen of fishermen for fishermen.
Amongst them you'll find Walter Sternberger's latest novel.
It tells the story of a young man born into lowly circumstances,
the son of a stout handler for Medmintool,
who spurned the security and financial benefits of becoming a shoe salesman at Saxon,
and in defiance of convention, answered an advertisement for a part-time gigolo and gardener's mitt.
As the years rolled by he became a chronic alcoholic.
For a time he sold cheap wine and solvents at an alternative off-license and after-dark gardening center in Clefolds.
Eventually after years of lost days and forgotten nights,
but his young body was used by wanton women and those who didn't really want to but as it was a party, why not?
He's now found some peace, sanctuary and consolation in his beloved fly fishing.
His book Burgundy and Beaver tells his own tragic story and is published by Scrotums.
I'm still trying to give those other blokes a slip.
I didn't fancy being part of their forest.
It's more exciting than jogging, but so is having a headache.
By the way, did you see those great fishing programs?
Fashion for dangling.
If you missed them first time around, here's an excerpt from the first program.
It features two of the country's finest all-round fishermen,
Winsor and Dortage and Andy Prannett.
He's the current holder of the UK Stone Launch Record.
I'm going fishing this morning with my great friend,
the man who taught me to fish, Winsor and Dortage.
Winsor is an old man now and lives in this cottage far away from anything
beside his beloved River Salage Brook,
alone except for his constant companion, Nurse Braithwaite.
Oh! Oh, Andy, we were hoping you'd be ten minutes late.
I'd ask you in, but I've got all my tackle out at the moment.
Just give us a minute, will you?
Right, sir. I'll wait in the car any time you're ready, Winsor.
Right, you are, Andy.
I'll be right there.
I'll be right there.
I'll be right there.
I'll be right there. I'll wait in the car any time you're ready, Winsor.
Right, you are, Andy.
I'll just finish up with this old dog nubbler and I'll be right with you.
No, no, no.
Ow!
Once again, the two friends are doing what they love to do best of all.
Well, one of them has, and now they're going fishing.
This morning, they're going to fish Silage Brook.
The brook was first mentioned in 1728 in Thomas Thomas's book, Trout, the Tastier Kipper,
when he wrote, Oh, honeyed trout, you little tease, why not give my fly a squeeze?
Your tiny mouth slurps and your pink-spotted sides flash
in the timeless boil of this hand-spoiled brook.
Turn again, Trout, turn again, if only to give me another look.
Well, we're here, Winsor.
Eh? No, far too early for a beer, Andy, far too early.
No, no, I said we're here, arriving at the brook.
Well, you should have said so at the time if you'd wanted to have a look.
Just briefly, it wouldn't have minded.
It's all part of my treatment, you know.
I don't like to do it personally.
I'd rather get someone in, as it were, but, er, well, there you are.
You can't argue with doctors, can you?
I have to do it for my health, they say.
Yeah, this private health care's very different to my day, I can tell you.
Yeah, yeah, stop here, Andy, this is the place.
This is where I got the three-pounder.
Did I ever tell you about that, Andy?
As it happens, you did.
Every day for the last 25 years.
Well, there we were, older Johnny Peters and...
We'll see, that's enough.
No, it's not, I tell you.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Through this beautiful, unspoiled part and setting,
our celebrities continue to pull in.
There's Frank Carson pulling another one,
and there's an idea of some kind with her, Billy Connolly.
And our honoured guests are making their way
to the Bankside Champagne reception
prior to getting all their tackle on.
Morning, sir. Morning.
Fascinating, isn't it? Yeah.
State of the art electronics here, you know.
Yeah? State of the art.
You see these bite alarms? Hmm.
Very sensitive.
You can set it all up, the tone, everything.
Love it. It's incredible, isn't it?
Oh, good. Yes.
And these rods, the power in these rods,
this butt has got the fighting power of two Sherman tanks.
Wow. Long time since you felt that in your hand, hasn't it?
It is, yeah.
And these reels just cast your eye there.
You'll notice you can change left to right and right in a second.
Which is very handy if you fish on the continent.
Now, over here, this is rather special.
Yeah, I wonder what that was.
You know Eric in the bank room? Oh, yeah.
With the gifted hands? Yeah.
Well, he did this. Hmm.
A few bits fell off the Russian space programme.
The good news is they fell our way.
With this device, you can link up to the American spy satellite
24 hours a day.
It'll give you half the world.
I mean, fundamentally, if a fish farts, you'll know about it.
Incredible, isn't it?
And best of all, it's totally silent.
I'll take two. Would you like to see the show, Karl?
Or would...?
Another quiet day.
You could tell the truth back in the pub,
tell them you blanked again,
or you could tell them you banked up.
But would you pass the olfactory test?
No, not them.
The olfactory glands are your sense of smell.
If you tell a lie at the pub, they'll not believe you
because you don't smell a fish.
They will believe you with Dr Bogus's fish and fin.
The fragrance of the fishy lyre.
Just one quick burst from the bogus pack
and you'll smell like a shoal for hours.
Remember, Dr Bogus's fish and fin and your smell of success.
Bogus's fish and fin.
Don't go fishing without it.
They came, they consumed, and now they've gone fishing.
Just along the bank from me here at this typically English setting.
It's great, and I can imagine that for you.
Sadly, the last celebrity peg has fallen vacant
due to an acute attack of champagne buffets.
His Grace, a most charming man, has invited me to take the vacant peg.
Looking up the bank, I can see that His Royal Highness has chosen to go.
Double rubber, very wide.
His Royal Highness, as always, is taking the lead in style.
Next to him, it's the Australian person, Ralph Harris.
He's trying a different approach.
He's using a deejay dude.
Next to him, Billy Cullen.
He's trying the swim-theater method with a heavy ground-hiking plan.
Just look at that.
He's really filling it in.
On your bike, wicker.
Say, what's with the camera crew?
Can you no make do with a wee instamatic like the rest of us?
Good enough for my friend Fergie, I tell you.
Keep your glasses on, Frank,
and try and catch something other than the barman's eye.
To the bar!
The tension mounts, and I can't help but think
that a simple float rig just might win it.
And so, I've got my waggler out, and I'm hoping for the best.
On such a beautiful day, who can say that fishing is just about catching fish?
It's great.
What's the matter, Frank?
Looking for the channel chain here, are you?
This is reality, pal. This is really happening, you know.
I say, Rolfo-chan, I've got a big one on.
If I'm not careful, this one's going to take me with it.
Hang on, mate. I'll come around and grab on to you.
I was right earlier, wasn't I?
You and that Australian on Keating, you're both at it, aren't you?
Anything to get your hands on the Royal Family.
Only, last time my mother was in Australia, he had his arm around her.
He was all over the papers.
Quite frankly, Rolfo, you can go and piss on a deer.
And there he goes, His Royal Highness taking to the water to land his fish.
There she is.
But we've got to ask, do the rules allow this, Frank?
Would you look at that? A water skier. Just look at him go.
Excuse me, Your Majesty, but what bait are you using?
No, Your Majesty.
He breathes his own mag, if you know.
I wonder if that was a high-grade special or a killer.
You have to ask me. He's showing off. Obviously jealous of my friend Diana.
Go on, Charlie. Give it some welly. Give it some steak, man.
On this beautiful day, His Royal Highness has hooked into a truly monstrous fish.
The heir to the throne, the heir of two, yes, two, Ashton Martins.
Has just disappeared from sight, proof to a fish.
Well, there you have it. We'll be back after these messages.
Looks like any other quagmire, doesn't it?
But thanks to this angler making the right decision, it'll remain a safe night.
Here you, Terry.
Yes, here I am, mate.
Here we are. I've got you a nice straffelager.
No smashing.
And I've been to the checkaway. I've got you a nice curry.
Look here, prawn vindaloo.
Oh, that's right. This lovely.
Have a good night.
And you, mate. Take care.
Fashioned from the finest Swedish stainless steel, Big Kevin's sleeping bag clips have been field-tested throughout the past winter in the extreme weather conditions of the Cashmere Pass, featuring the Madras and Fahl test.
Big Kevin's sleeping bag clips, an absolute must for those windy nights.
Big Kevin's will keep you pegged down, but never out.
Good morning. Going fishing, eh?
Not much water around here, mate.
Thanks, I realise that. I'm beach fishing today.
That's miles away. Peven's is in the woods, isn't it?
Yeah, that's right. I'm not fishing there.
Where are you fishing?
Calais.
It's on mornings like this you'll find anglers making their way across dew-soaked grass to a favourite swim, their bags laden with tackle, bait and lunch.
Today, Wincy and Andy are going fishing for roach.
Many years ago, the Thames roach fishers and their brothers in Angle on the River Lee used to hair from a horse's tail for their cast.
Today's roachmen are just as stealthy in their approach to these classically beautiful fish.
Come on, Andy, we're almost there.
You know what, Wincy, I can't wait to go to the bank.
I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Andy.
The friends are after a shoal of monster roach, the like of which dreams are made of and legends grow from.
For the past two weeks, they've kept a small but steady supply of bait going into this part of the river.
And now they're hoping to catch one of these elusive fish.
Wincy, are you fishing here?
I've told you before, Andy, it's far too early for a beer.
Are you going to use your old roach pole, Wincy?
Don't you worry yourself about my old hole, Andy. It's perfectly alright, thank you.
The fishing hole is just along the bank from Andy and Wincy.
The huge roach lay up there under the orders, resting from the pull of the main cove.
Often a pinch of flick, lightly ledgered, will attract these red fin beauties.
And the catch of a lifetime can occur.
Silence, a minimal moment, are absolute necessities if fish are to be caught.
You alright there, Andy?
Wincy, I think we should be quiet along this bank.
I don't understand you, Andy. You're like a man possessed.
You can't leave yourself alone for a moment.
Can you go blind, you know? You'll be fishing with the white sticks, old man.
Just when we thought we'd seen it all, the unthinkable has happened.
The heir to the throne has disappeared.
His Royal Highness was last seen being towed across the water by a huge fish.
Will we ever see him again? Does this mean that Diana will have to pay her own bill?
Will they take an oath on me to rest?
Excuse me, sir. Did you see what happened?
Yes, I did. And so did he.
Who, me? Well, suddenly Charleleit, you know himself, goes tearing across the water here.
Away and boil your heat.
Who's fishing here?
That's Frank Carson, look at me.
Is he funny? Funny, for us.
Mr. Carson, can you tell me what you saw?
Be careful!
I remember him. Didn't he used to be Eric Morgan?
All right, everyone, just keep calm and stay exactly where you are.
My men will be talking with all of you in turn. Please cooperate.
Do not leave the area. All roads have been sealed off.
And I give you your assistance.
No, Mr. Dimbleby, no questions, especially from you.
And if you don't mind me saying so, I don't think you should have asked all those other questions, let alone another one.
Sergeant Frost, I'm going to take these people up to the clubhouse.
I want you to go through their tackle very, very carefully.
Very good, sir. A full investigation. Nothing left unturned, of course, sir.
Just leave it to me. I'll just slip on the marigolds and I'll be with you.
No, Frost! That tackle!
Truly a day of great tragedy. The Prince of Wales is missing and the nation waits for more news.
And we, like some fish I've encountered, are about to be grilled.
There's yet still no response from the palace about a prize for the Astons.
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And as if by magic, the Scrudley's locator will implode your bankstick or brolly pole into the area of your choice.
Yes, even into solid rock. Shoot, Nigel, shoot. Get ready for the bang, everybody.
Come, come, Nigel, please, the song and dance, love, the song and dance routine, please.
Please, please don't forget the song and dance routine, the song and dance.
Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's, Scrudley's.
It's got to be Scrudley's to make it firm and secure. Scrudley's!
Don't just put it up. Make sure it stays up with Scrudley's.
And cut.
Dear, dear.
Really, Nigel, it really wasn't your best work, love. Never mind, never mind.
OK, everybody, chop, chop, set up the vaccine, please. Thank you. Somebody help Nigel. Thank you.
OK, everybody, thank you, love.
Terry, office.
And cue Nigel. Smile, love, smile. Be brave, Nigel, smile.
Want to get your boilies right out, 150 yards plus, with pinpoint accuracy every time?
You need Hurling Brothers bait gun.
Hurling Brothers bait gun is capable of firing an accurate load every 10 seconds.
Shoot, Nigel, shoot.
Whether it's boilies or particles, only Hurling Brothers can help you get them out.
Shoot it, love, shoot it.
Oh, dear, what a shame. I was hoping to use him in an aftershave ad.
You know the one, old lead for men and women who shave. Shame.
Sweep Nigel up somebody. Thanks, love.
Terry in my room again. Bell v. T., everybody. This will be a long one.
The Friends of Fishing for that quintessential fish of summer, the tench, traditionally referred to as the doctor fish,
because of legendary claims of sick fish being sighted rubbing up against them.
Pency. The long, hot, lazy days of summer spread across the landscape,
gently lolling the senses with the sound of birds and the quiet, soporific hum of nature.
The whole of the land is cloaked in the sensual wands of the day.
I'm a naughty boy, getting my float caught up in the tree like that, aren't I?
Before you have to peel off your stockings to get it back for me. You're a very kind girl, aren't you?
Shame the bugger weren't caught a bit higher up.
If the water had been any deeper, you'd have to take your skirt off and all.
It's a great pity, that. I could have just done with that, seeing you up to your laundry, splashing about.
Still, I suppose I'll have to wait till bath time tonight, eh?
Now, where's that Andy got to?
He's down the bank.
Oh, no doubt about it. That's what he's doing, all right, dirty little beggar.
Hello there, everyone.
Oh, there you are. Guess what I've been doing.
You know, I can't think, Andy, but I'll tell you something, lad. You're looking a bit flushed.
Here. How many fingers am I holding up?
Three.
Amazing, isn't it? Doesn't seem to affect him. I can't understand it.
I'm going to get you a pair of nice, thick gloves, Andy. That'll slow you down.
Slow me down?
You heard me. I know you've been bashing your crown, but have you caught a taint, Andy?
I almost did, until this bloke and his girlfriend came along in the front and started feeding the duck.
Yeah, cover your ears, nurse Braithwaite.
Then get the sandwiches out. Might give him something else to do with his hands for ten minutes.
Woo!
Here, kybus, don't be the raw prawn and use up all the milk, will you?
You know what? The county's surrounded. The herd of the throne has disappeared.
We'll be investigating more thoroughly than a schoolboy's copy of Pantow's Pets.
The blues are baffled, the champagne's raffled, and the prince is snaffled.
But in a minute I'm going to go back inside and have a nice hot cup of cocoa with side and thrust.
But first I've just got to siphon the python.
One, two, three.
Hello? Is there anybody there? I can hear you in there. Come out or I'll call the police.
S.A.S. We've got the whole place surrounded. The company's hiding behind those bushes over there.
One false move and we'll roll out the Armored Division.
Where are they?
Behind those bushes over there.
Good job they're in flower.
Christ.
The S.A.S. are all around us. They've even got an Armored Division in the bushes.
Did they mention the Aston's?
Anything at all? Any sort of Makers and Offer type noises?
Woo!
I'm back at last. I thought I was never going to get here. I've been walking for miles.
Crikey, I'm glad I don't have to go through that again. I'd rather have my phone tapped.
Your Royal Highness. Welcome back. I'm Sergeant Thrust.
Of course you are.
What happened, sir? We thought you'd disappeared.
Mr. Connolly said you had a real biggie on.
Oh, did he? That was kind of him, I think.
Well, you see, I put on a bunch of high-growth special maggots on a ten pound line.
And I hooked into this bloody huge great fish, which towed me for miles and miles and miles.
I mean, I'd been walking for ages. I'd never walked that far since I was with Diana.
We went shopping.
You poor man. You must be totally shagged.
Must I? But I feel better then.
Well, perhaps you had better tell me the rest of the story.
Oh, Lamy. This is indeed a lot less fun than Polder. Where am I?
You're all right, sir. You've just been thrown onto the bank by a large fish.
Just a moment. Aren't you a tree?
In a manner of speaking, we all are.
But I don't understand this. Aren't I supposed to speak to you?
Well, don't worry about that now. Let's see about giving you a hand.
So, that's how it all happened. That's how I came to be here.
The trees brought me back, but of course no one would leave me.
Aunt Stiffy.
Is that so? Doesn't show. Splendid. How do you do? Ritonical question, of course.
Detective Inspector Stiffy. Oh, thank God you're safe, sir. We'd see out of the county looking for you. What happened?
One could say one was carried away, then carried back. The one's quite safe now, thanks, sir.
I suppose I've been extremely lucky.
I'd advise caution, sir. In earlier life she had pheromones.
Good show that I'm in danger of catching a salmon. Come on, thrust. This one's for England.
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Go for the cat.
Oh, welcome dear Socratic. This is my assistant Sergeant Thrust.
Have you got any news for us?
Well, I've got something, but it's not much, I'm afraid.
Don't be so hard on yourself, sir. I've heard it's a really cheeky one.
He hasn't a thrust back off, let the man speak.
Well, we managed to get the heat-tracking satellite pictures from the Americans this morning. Let's go somewhere quiet.
Ah, there you are, officer.
I've just seen Jonathan Deerbohr, and he wants to ask Prince Charles a question.
I realize that he has his job to do, as have I.
Now, how can I put this so he'll understand?
Tell him to piss off!
As autumn sets in, and we arrive at the season of mists and mellow footfulness,
the two friends have decided to fish for pike and perch.
Together with Nurse Braithwaite, they make their way across the mist-soaked mellows to their favorite swim.
Come on, Andy, try and keep up, we're almost there.
What, this mist clears up soon, don't you?
I do, Winsor. I can hardly see me hand in front of me face.
We won't get any place here, Andy. You catch them in the sea, you stupid, soft wazook.
I didn't say place, Winsor, I said, oh, never mind.
I wish you'd get a new battery in that ear in aid.
I haven't, Andy. Anyway, what would you want with a blade?
You aren't thinking of cutting it off, are you?
If you are, I tell you, you'll have a lot more time on your hands.
Where's Nurse Braithwaite?
Oh, she's not far away. Cooey, Nursey! Cooey!
Hello, I'm over here.
Oh, go and get her, will you, Andy, while I start tackling up the daft tarts.
Gonna lost herself.
Right, Winsy, I'll just leave my gear here.
I tell you, Andy, you'll be an alcoholic if you carry on like this.
It's still too early for a beer.
Nurse Braithwaite, where are you?
Hello, is anybody there?
There you are, Nurse Braithwaite. Are you shaken up or anything?
Oh, you've found me.
Is there anything I could get you, like an aspirin or a cold compress or excited?
Oh, you want the kiss alive?
Yes, please.
Oh, lovely.
No, Andy, not there. Here.
Andy, Andy, come quick, I've got my big one on.
So have I.
You can't beat going private, can you?
You mean you can get it on prescription?
Hurry up, I'm getting it right, I'm mucking foot on here.
Hang on, I'm almost there.
Come on, Andy, get the net under this.
Hang on, I'm coming, I'm coming.
Oh, it's cold.
Winsy, you got yourself a burst.
I wasn't alert. I tell you, Andy, I've only had the one this morning.
Any road up, if I was alert, it's because of this.
Is this a zander?
If I wanted you to have a gander, I would have said so, wouldn't I?
I want you to net it, not look at it.
Oh, look at that, Winsy, you've got the double.
Nurse, breathe, wait.
When conventional tactics aren't enough, then it's time to use Bejean Genie Wish Powder.
Please, God, feed us with your grace.
Grant us this day our daily bread.
Praise the Lord. Hallelujah.
Bejean Genie Wish Powder works every time.
A word of warning for all first-time users.
Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
The police are off in conference.
The toast is burning and the prince is having a shave.
Well, it sounds like it.
Wait a minute, is this who I think it is arriving?
Quick, hide the silver, this may be a charity visit.
Good morning, is my son here?
Oh, hello, Mr. Lever.
Good of you to drop in. Where's Charles?
Good morning, Your Royal Highness.
I'll go and see if I can find him.
One moment, Your...
Wicker, please stop brown-nosing and get to it now.
Your Royal Highness, good morning. I'm Rolf Harris.
You're Australian, aren't you? Do you know Paul Keating?
No, ma'am.
Well, that's all right then, you can stay. Now, where's Charles got to?
Quick, Thrusty, get out there and store her.
I've got to be presentable. Where's my flypad?
Oh, Your Royal Highness, how wonderful.
The prince has been found. He's under our protection now.
One of my officers is covering him.
Now, what happened to Charlie? You lost him, didn't you?
Well, it might appear that way, ma'am.
The reality is that the National River Authority
were carrying out water sampling and fishing bait analysis tests in the area.
One of their two manned submarines got caught up in the prince's fishing line.
He was towed down the river and ended up in a wood.
He claims the trees carried him part of the way back.
So he banged his head?
Oh, the police surgeons run his eye over him
and give him a cursory check for broken bones and sprains.
He appears to be all right.
Touched my Charlie, did he?
Yes, ma'am, in a purely professional capacity, of course.
He's not Australian, is he?
No, this is Sergeant Thrust, ma'am. He's been covering your son.
Really? How is he? All he recovered?
Yes, ma'am. He had a light breakfast and an early limber-up,
followed by a good sponge down and a hosing off. I saw to it personally.
He's just looking for his flypatch.
I see. And you've been helping him, eh?
Are you armed?
I can use a nightstick, ma'am.
I'm sure you can, but that wasn't the question, was it?
Oh, hello, mumsy. I didn't realise you were coming fishing, too.
I didn't intend to, Taz, my darling, but one heard that you were lost,
and so I came as soon as I could dodge the angling times.
Are you quite well? How's the head?
I was rescued by trees. Isn't that amazing?
They gave me the secret of success in life.
What's that, darling?
Never drop one's back cast, and always keep one's maggot in the fridge.
Have you told anyone that yet, darling Tazzy Wazzy?
Only the people here, mumsy.
Bring me the necessary, will you, Carl, and then get ready for a fast drive back.
I've plans for you, and they don't include long words.
Move it, beefy!
Your money! Shh!
I told you before, no German to be spoken in public.
I've had trouble enough with Diana and that bloody Mercedes.
Now she's got a bloody Audi.
My God, it's not easy, is it?
Now get me the necessary, or I'll cut off your retreat!
Get down with her!
But, Your Majesty, what have I done to offend the Crown?
I simply asked if you'd take an offer on the card.
Shut up, for once, Mousy, and get down on one.
No, you smooth-talking credit card salesman, not that, down on one knee.
Arise, Sir Alan Wicker, Prince of the Oathshore Islands.
Now, one word of this, and it's off with the Bonts, understood, Wickers?
Thank you, ma'am, for once in my life I am spiritual.
Thank God for that.
Wonky, get over here.
One must say this is terribly, terribly tempting, one less and all that.
Bloody keating, I'll show him.
Arise, Sir Ralph Harris, guardian of the crayon and dodgy skitchpad.
Now for the whinging haggis basher.
Get over here, Connolly.
Arise, Sir Billy Connolly, patron of the cheerful and non-complaining.
Now, don't forget, you lot, one word of this and next time we read,
this sword will be travelling sideways for certain.
Is that understood?
Oh, shit.
Now, Inspector, tell me about that submarine.
Why did they come to Tarly while he's fishing there?
There'd been reports, ma'am, of an angler using a secret bait formula
which was giving him an unfair advantage over the others.
And what's more, it was affecting the fish.
How extraordinary. In what way, one asks.
It was giving them terrible wind, ma'am,
and some parts of the country's rivers were beginning to look
like the top of a pint of Guinness.
Was Ruth Gohauer involved in this?
Oh, definitely not, ma'am.
Oh, dear, what a bloody shame. Carry on.
We found the offending bait, ma'am.
The angler was using a bed of flavour-boosted pork scratchings
overlay with crumbled pork pie
and fishing neutrally-balanced Guinness-flavoured boilies over the top.
What bastard! Do you know who it was?
Yes, ma'am, he's being taken away now.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Hunt, hunt, hunt!
Please, please, let me ride through this.
One must be off.
Do you want to stay with your new friend, Charlie?
She could be transferred to your personal protection squad.
Oh, one would like that immensely.
May we catch a lift back with you to Schloss Windsor?
I've told you before.
Nicht doch sprechen in front of other people, darling.
Anyway, I'm busy tonight with beefy sausage here.
I can tell you quite confidently, Sergeant Thrust,
that you're not the only one with a new nightstick.
One must go.
Get the dogs, beefy, and let's bugger off.
Quickly now, or one'll pinch one's bottom.
My God, dimble, dear. What is it now?
I tell you, they're really bloody mean.
I even got you on tele immediately after Rackham's been bashed up.
That wasn't enough. I even got them to delay in use of tele.
Even Diana didn't manage that.
I've admitted that I buried the ferret early,
but I've been buggered until I'm in the area.
Now, bug off, dimble, dear, or the knighthood is out of the question.
I love fishing, and I adore the fish I catch.
Every fishing match can't wait for a hatch
Of mayfly on the lake. Let there be no mistake,
I love fishing, plenty fishing.
I love fishing, then fishes, then you.
Oh, just to register a nibble on my quiver tip,
Or simply watch my float sliding away,
Or the bend in my rod when I'm into a cut,
A skate or an old John Doe, ray me fossil, ah, tee doe.
I'm going fishing, cause I just can't do without
A salmon or a trout, you might hear me shout.
When I've fallen in, head first for a swim,
Where the fishes, lovely fishes,
I love fishing, then fishes, then you.
Oh, bingo, bing.