Nadgers Tv

(The lights come up on Valerie (forty-ish, twin-set, with a huge grin) and Celia (younger, lime track suit, hair that could be generously described as 'tousled' and fast asleep) sitting in armchairs against a pastel blue backdrop.

Valerie's grin gets even wider and she addresses the camera.)

Valerie: Goo-

Celia: TO VICTORY! (She jerks awake, looking startled.)

Valerie: (As if nothing had happened) Good morning to one and all. Today Celia will tell us about her recent trip to Aberdeen, when she got to try some pot-throwing and haddock-smoking. Or vice versa perhaps, eh Celia?

(Celia still doesn't really know where she is. She looks across and grunts.)

Valerie: (Chuckles) Ha-ha. And I'll be showing you how to run up some curtains. It depends on who's chasing you, of course, ha-ha!

Celia: Good moring. Morning.

(Valerie stands and starts to walk over to the next item, only briefly pausing as Celia drowsily staggers to her feet to follow her.)

Valerie: But first, art. Take a look at these...

(She indicates a display of canvases painted with brightly-coloured splodges.)

These are the work of up-and-coming young Brit-artist Elektra Aleaphage, who's here to talk about these interesting creations which are causing such a stir.

(And standing next to a large white canvas across the floor are Elektra (dopey-looking, twenty-ish with too much hair) and Tarquin (Adonis-like nude man).)

Hello there.

Tarquin: Good day to you.

Elektra: Hi.

Valerie: So would you care to explain these captivating images?

Elektra: I don't like explaining my work. People should make up their own minds.

Valerie: But how are they produced? What's Tarquin here for?

Elektra: Tarquin gets the paint on the paper, basically.

Tarquin: Permit me to elaborate. Ms. Aleaphage has explained that she wanted to remove the technical aspect of the production process and facilitate a more direct contact between model and canvas.

Celia: Oh, like Thing? Yves Klein? (She starts to twitch a little.)

Tarquin: Quite. But in the case of a male model, there's a more fundamental way we can contribute to the act of creation.

(Elektra produces a hypodermic filled with bright blue fluid.)

Essentially, the very seed of the model is given to instigate the life of the picture.

Celia: Onward, onward, my footsoldiers! Never falter! Or it's the cat for you...

(And she's gone again, slumping against Valerie's shoulder. Valerie's smile falters only slightly with the effort of keeping her co-presenter upright.)

Elektra: I got the idea when people said my paintings were a load of toss.

Valerie: So- excuse me... (Adjusts Celia.) So, you inject the dye into the model, isn't that right?

Elektra: Yeah.

Tarquin: It's not as agonising as you might think, being injected with paint into your scrotum.

Valerie: (Faces camera.) Although we should point out that this is special paint and people shouldn't try this at home.

Elektra: I don't need the competition, for one thing.

Tarquin: And then it's simply a case of getting the pigment back out. Once inspiration strikes, it's difficult to call a halt, and it's always very exciting.

Valerie: Well, you've agreed to demonstrate how it works and I must say we're all very interested. So I should stand well back, I think.

Elektra: OK then.

(Elektra bends and injects the blue dye into Tarquin's scrotum. Tarquin winces a bit but he's a professional. Then Elektra stands back and, to the accompaniment of light jazz played on a vibraphone, he starts massaging his flaccid genitals over the canvas.)

Valerie: So how long does the process take?

Celia: I shall call it Celianopolis! (Dribbles a bit.)

Elektra: That's not how art works, innit? Things take as long as they take.

(Elektra gets out a comic and starts reading. Valerie blows her cheeks out a bit, being patient, and returns Tarquin's polite wave as he glances over, still working vigorously. Valerie starts humming along with the jazz, and, when she thinks no-one's looking, allows Celia to slip quietly to the floor.

This continues for about seven minutes. Tarquin is going quite pink and has tried every grip and rubbing technique he knows, to no avail. Then, with a shy smile, he stops.)

Tarquin: No, it's not happening. Sorry.

Valerie: Oh well. I can tell you we tried this in rehersal and it worked very well then. In fact, here's the one we prepared earlier. (Indicates one of the splodges.)

Anyway, after the break we'll be looking at musique concrete and amphibian taxidermy. Don't go away, now!

(Cut to film of a dead tortoise being disembowelled to the sound of two pieces of polysterene being rubbed together.)

Tarquin: (Voice-over) Oh yes! That's done the trick!