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Alan Partridge scripts

Started by Miguel Wilkins, Jan 10, 2025, 05:52 PM

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Jan 10, 2025, 05:52 PM
#1 Nov 20, 2025, 10:21 AM
Here are lots of IAP, Partrimilgrimage and KMKY (TV) scripts, but the website is terrible:

https://www.alanpartridgequotes.com
#2 Nov 21, 2025, 12:33 AM
That site only has two KMKYWAP tv episodes, so I've added my own ones above.
#3 Apr 27, 2026, 01:37 AM
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I'm Alan Partridge, this is TTT, Top Teen Tunes.

My first song is Ride a White Swan by T-Rex. It brings back possibly my happiest memory. I was 17 and it was a long hot summer. This song was playing in a branch of John Menzies where I'd gone to treat myself to a Mint Cracknel and a copy of Autotrader as a reward for having passed my driving test.

Interestingly, the song inspired me not to ride a white swan, that would just be cruel, but to ride a white Austin Maxi, which I just purchased for £60 from The Trader. I say white, it was actually... some lunatic had actually hand-painted it with matt white emulsion. He'd used a house brush and you can actually see the strokes. I don't mean the punk combo. I mean, you can see the white stripes. Again, I don't mean Jack and Meg.

I remember when I first bought it, I opened the boot and inside there was a Freeman, Hardy & Willis shoebox and inside there was just a lot of Access receipts and a photograph of a boy with a red setter and an unused nappy, which I used about a year later to wipe the flies off the headlamps just outside Bath.

But anyway, on with the song, which, and every time I hear it, I think of a matt white Austin Maxi in fair to good condition and conversely, whenever I see an Austin Maxi, it doesn't have to be white, as long as it's in reasonable condition, I think of Ride of White Swan by T-Rex. If it's not in reasonable condition, I just drive on and forget about it. I've turned the corner, it's out of my mind.

So, Ride a White Swan by T-Rex.

I'm Alan Partridge and this is Top Teen Tunes.

My next choice is Blockbuster, which reminds me of the day I met Brian Connolly of The Sweet at the London Boat Show. Fascinating man. I remember telling him that I loved the raw energy of Blockbuster, but that I felt Papa Joe was just lazy. But he was looking at inflatable rafts and just didn't want to be bothered. Although he did sign a bottle of Deck Wipe.

He wasn't so big after the 70s. I mean, career-wise. Physically, he was massive. In fact, a friend of mine went to see Sweet live in 1990 and he asked for his money back. In the end, the venue just gave him tickets for Richard Digence.

But a marvellous song, Blockbuster. I have thought you could use it in a campaign for Blockbuster video. Does anyone know the way? There's got to be a way to Blockbuster! Yeah, it's on Church Lane between Boots and Alliance and Leicester.

Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum. You know, it makes sense. Blockbuster by The Sweet.

I'm Alan Partridge. We're back with Top Teen Tunes.

This is one of the greats "When you're in love with a beautiful woman" by Dr Hook, who, as far as I know, is not a qualified GP.

I was 15 years old, and my father had taken us out for lunch at the Pig & Whistle in Shoeburyness. And whilst this song was playing in the background, I was waiting for my oxtail soup, Dad started talking about his ultimate dream. He had a vision of a card which one day people would carry in their wallet. And it would be like a credit card, but instead of running up debts, the money would be debited directly from your current account.

And people laughed at the time. Dismissed it as the crazy dreams of a 50-year-old. Or, you know, looked at him in an odd way and changed the subject. But, Dad, if you're watching up there, I don't know, perhaps they've got a TV in heaven. Although I very much doubt if they've got VH1. But, probably lots of religious channels.

But, Dad, if you're watching, they did it, Dad. They did it, and they called it Switch.

I'm Alan Partridge. Top Teen Tunes.

My next choice is Billy, Don't Be a Hero, by Paper Lace, which gave me my first taste of history and an interest in the American Civil War and actually led to me collecting die-cast metal figures of Confederate soldiers.

I wasn't very good with the detail on the faces, and quite often I would end up painting the whole head and hat flesh-coloured. It looked like they had hat-shaped heads. Quite a good idea for a film. The men with the hat-shaped heads. They could be fighting...

Nah.

The first time I heard this song, I was actually in the garden on Whitson weekend, sitting on a varnished sector of tree trunk, which were very popular in those days, the stools.

And I listened to the whole song, but by the end I had tears in my eyes. And ironically, I was eating off a paper plate. I had some chip sticks and a beef paste sandwich. And my father came across from the other side of the garden where he'd been smoothing out some concrete with my Uncle Peter.

And he said, Alan, why are you crying? And I said, I think I may have just heard one of the greatest songs ever written, Dad.

This amazing story of Billy and Mary and how at the end Mary receives a letter from Billy on the very same day she finds out he's died. And I heard she threw the letter away. And my dad just burst out laughing. Uncle Peter had gone inside by then.

So, um...

Billy, don't be a hero by Paper Lace.

Thanks.

I heard she threw the letter away.

I'm Alan Portridge and you're listening to TTT Top Teen Tunes. My next song is Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changers by David Bowie, which is a very moving song because, like several singers, Bowie was clearly struggling with some sort of speech impediment.

And it's fascinating, I think, to note that Mr Bowie failed to overcome his speech impediment and yet people still like this song.

Whereas Gareth Gates did overcome his speech impediment, yet people don't like him or his music. It's weird how things turn out.

Anyway, it was a bit of fun. I was actually going to choose five songs featuring singers with speech impediments, such as My Generation, Oh Bloody Oh Blada. But then I was asked... I was actually asked not to mention this, but the director of programming has a lisp.

And I don't mean slight.

Put it this way. When I agreed to do this campaign, he was very kind. And he said, Thank you so much for doing this. It's very pronounced. But it's a testament to the man's good judgment that he's chosen to remain behind the scenes. I applaud him for that.

Anyway, this is Ch-Ch-Ch-Changers by David Bowie, whose real name, of course, is David Borchester. Later shortened that to Bowie. Borchester Bowie.

Changes.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
#4 Apr 27, 2026, 01:51 AM
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Knowing me, knowing you
There is nothing we can do
Knowing me, knowing you
There is nothing we can do
Knowing me, knowing you
Aha!
Knowing me, knowing you
Thank you

Thank you and welcome to this test pilot of a broadcast for knowing me, knowing you with Alan Partridge. You better believe it, there's a new chat in town. Yeah, this is a pilot, which means it's a test show. In a sense, I am the test pilot, and you are my passengers, and the show is a talking jumbo jet. Let's hope I can master the controls for a smooth flight and a safe landing, and let's pray that none of my guests hijack the plane and kill the passengers one by one until their demands are met. So fingers crossed, and prepare for chat take-off. Thanks.

Let's kick off by getting to know the resident house band, Glenn Ponder and Chalet.

Knowing me, Alan Partridge. Knowing you, Glenn Ponder. Aha! Aha! And knowing me, Alan Partridge, knowing you, Chalet. Aha! Aha! Thanks.

Great to have you aboard, Glenn.
It's great to be here. We're really looking forward to doing—sorry? Sorry?
It's alright, that's fine. Glenn Ponder and Chalet. Why?

Well, in Chatty Town, it's a happy town full of interesting people, and this is where they like to meet, here in Chat Corner. Let's meet my first guest right now, after I've done her introduction now.

In the olden days, we all knew what women were. They were either pretty little things with long flaxen hair who'd throw you a smile you'd hold in your heart, or they were ferocious bull dykes with fists like boulders who'd frighten your kids. Nowadays, it's not so simple. There are women who say, I want a career, but I also want children. I want men to show me respect, but I want to show them my cleavage. They call themselves post-feminist feminists. Don't ask me what that means. Let's hear it from the horse's mouth. Please welcome Patti Blake.

Um, nice whiff of your perfume there. That smelt nice. Um, now—Patti. Um, I've been dying to say this. Patti, let's chatty—
Don't I get to say a-ha?
Knowing me, Alan Partridge. Knowing you, Patti Blake. A-ha! A-ha!
Been waiting to do that.
Well, you've done it now.

Um, now, Patti. Um, I love the outfit. The first thing I say, you look like a sort of naughty schoolgirl, something like St Trinian's or something like that.
Well, I promise I'll behave myself tonight, Alan.
Alright, well, uh, any misbehaving at Alan Partridge's School of Chats will be met with a very firm hand.
Oh, please, Mr. Partridge, don't give me the cane.
I will, I'll put you on my knee, I'll give you six of the best.

Right, where are we? Um, yes, now. Esquire Magazine described you as "The Babe with Balls." Is that true?
No, I've got breasts.
Yeah, well, you know, breasts and balls—yeah—not literally. That would be hideous. But, um, you know, I mean, although there are places in Bangkok where you can—
No, the reason I corrected you is that it just really annoys me. You know, this whole media thing, that whenever a woman is assertive, the media describes her as having male attributes. You know, and it's just so sexist. It never happens the other way round. You never get some assertive male like, um, I don't know, Michael Portillo being described as "the boy with breasts," you know.
Well, that's because he's not a boy and he doesn't have breasts.
No, but it's a comparable image.
No, no, it's not an image I particularly like. I mean, he could be the future prime minister. I don't want to vote for a boy with breasts.

No, I think you're being willfully literal here. You know, I mean, what I'm trying to do is just blow away a few cobwebs.
I'm sorry, no, I understand. No, you're trying to shock. That's fine. That's why we booked you.

If you do get too shocking, I mean, it's fine—shock away if you wish—but if you get too shocking, I'll just hold my hand up and say stop. And if I do that, if you can just pull back, that'd be great.
Fine.
Isn't freedom of speech a marvellous thing?
Marvellous. Thank you.

Now, before I talk about—do you want a jelly baby?
Um, no.
By the way, don't eat these pears. They're wax.

Now, before we talk about your photographic exhibition—you want to plug that later—before we talk about that, I believe you have three tattoos which are in rather unorthodox places.
I've got three. I love tattoos. I think they're very primitivistic and tribal, and I find them very spiritually invigorating.
They're trendy. Carry on.

So I've got one tattoo on my shoulder, which is of Malcolm X.
Yeah.
I've got one that you can just make out here probably, which is my lucky lizard, I call it.
Can we see this? Look at that. That's my favourite one.
I wouldn't mind swapping places with a lucky lizard.

Look at that. Where does the tail go?
Well, I mean, it carries on for about another inch and a half down there.
Well, where does it go?
Well, it just curls around my nipple.
Stop. Stop.

And then my—my third tattoo is a cherry on my—
Stop. Stop.

Now, in the early 80s, you were known as the pretty face of pop. Now, that's all changed as the years have progressed. Your face has receded, and you've developed these other interests—the journalistic career, the photographic stuff—you've developed this whole serious woman thing.
That is so insulting. That whole question is so insulting. I mean, what does this "serious woman thing" mean?
Well, that's a compliment. I mean, you know it is possible to be a serious woman and to have a pretty face.
I mean, granted I'm not sweet sixteen and never been kissed.
No, I know you're 34. And I imagine you've been kissed quite a bit.

Now, let's—tell me about the exhibition, because that's what you're here for.
Well, the exhibition is called Bare Face Cheek, and it's really a series of photographs of men's naked bums. That's the bottom line, if you'll excuse the pun. The reason behind it is that women find men's bums very sexy, don't they? Girls, I mean, come on—you know they're very sexy things.

So really what I've done is taken a whole lot of celebrity photographs—they're all my friends—and they're lovely, kind of glorious Technicolor close-up photos of naked men's bums. And underneath is a celebrity's name, but it's only the first name, which I think is a bit more exciting, because that way you know it's a famous person, but you don't quite know who.

We've got a few to have a look at.
Let's have a look at some of the pictures.

Right, that's one. This is Peter. So you look at it—it's very sexy—you know he's a celebrity, and you say, well, who is it? Is it Peter Purvis? Or Peter Sissons?
Exactly. Could be either.

Right, let's see another. That's Jeremy.
Jeremy Irons or Jeremy Paxman?
That's right. It's actually Paxman.
Really? That's surprising.

Next one. I love that one—Melvin. It's quite obvious who that is. Unless of course it's Melvin Hayes.
No, you were right first time.

Let's see another. Oh, I love that. Now look at that little touch of camouflage—that's just so militaristic. You know, it has to be Michael Heseltine or Portillo.
Exactly.

Right, let's see one more. Bernard. Again, is it Cribbins? Is it Levin? Who knows? It's for you to guess.
It's a difficult one.
But that's the fun of the exhibition. It's kind of a party game in a way. And really what I'm saying—there is a serious point—I guess. What I'm saying is, hey guys, get hip to your bums, because they're sexy things.

When was the last time you saw your bum?
Well, I don't make an appointment with it.
Well, you should. You should give it a name, write a letter, get to know it.

When was the last time you saw it?
I don't know. In a hotel near Clifton Suspension Bridge. I came out of the bathroom, I was picking up a sock, and the bathroom door swung open—it had a mirror on it—and basically I came face to face with my own backside. I thought it was someone else's. It was quite frightening.

Now that's interesting, you see, that you say it's frightening, because so many men are frightened by their own sexuality. And in a way, that's the point of my exhibition. It's all about sexual politics.
Well, you, Patti Blake, say it's about sexual politics. I, Alan Partridge, say it's about arses.

Your bums are porn, are they not?
Absolutely.
Well, what's the difference between me buying a pornographic magazine, hiding it in a cistern, putting it in a polythene bag, and then returning to it later, and your exhibition?
There is no difference. It's all the same thing. And it's fine—I think it's great. Go with it.

You've seen a lot of men's bottoms. Who's your favourite?
Oh, my boyfriend Sean, of course.
Right, now it's interesting you being that, because your boyfriend is 18 years old. You're 34. You're twice his age.
So what's the big deal? It's not weird at all. He's an adult.

Why is it a problem? I don't understand why the media is so fascinated by this. If I was a man and I had a girlfriend half my age, it just wouldn't be a big deal.

Well, that's different. Look, I've got a son, Fernando. He's at Cambridge. He has a girlfriend the same age—it makes sense.
Look, I'm happy for him, but I bet he fantasizes about older women. And if he wants to come home one day with a 33-year-old woman—or a 63-year-old—
63?
Oh, come on, 63-year-old women are very sexy.

If he came home with a 63-year-old woman arm in arm, she'd feel the sharp end of my hand.
You're saying you'd hit her?
No, I would push her firmly.

So this is interesting. It's okay to push women, but not okay for a woman to go out with someone half her age. This sums up all the hypocrisies in the media.

So, I mean, things like this—this is something that is in almost every home in Britain. When do you see one on television? You never see—
Oh my God, it's a dildo. Put it away.
Put it away, don't break it. Alan, don't break it.
My name is Alan Partridge, it is not Alan Summers.

Don't tell me you haven't got one at home.
No, she doesn't.
Put it away.

You've lost me about two million viewers.
I don't think so.
Yes, there are remote controls pinging all over England because of that.

Do you want to see my third tattoo?
No, I don't. Patti Blake, thank you very much.
Thank you very much.
#5 Apr 27, 2026, 02:11 AM
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The Day Today Pilot

Hello, I'm Alan Partridge, and this is Sports Desk.

Football. And Nottingham Forest may soon be Nottingham Deforest, if coach Liam O'Kane has anything to do with it. He's ordered the entire team to shave their groins in an attempt to enable greater laminar airflow and reduce buckling and weaving of the tendons. The newly depilated men will be shown off to Nottingham fans this evening.

On to tennis now. And the sensational young Bulgarian protégé, Mila Milandrovic, was wowing everybody in Southampton this afternoon as she prepares for the finals of the Ordnance Survey Maps Cup. I was lucky enough to catch up with her this morning as she was practising the subnets.

You are from Bulgari.
Bulgaria. Bulgaria.
I can imagine when you were small, you were probably taken away from your parents and put in a sports camp.
No, we had a tennis court at my house, and my father was my coach.
You weren't put in a sports camp and trained into a tennis machine.
No, I went to school. It's normal. I would work a lot.
You must be devastated for your countrymen who are subsisting on a diet of bread, potatoes, water, and, I don't know, beer. Do you feel guilty?
No. People eat.
Most of your countrywomen tend to have affected a kind of, well, a moustache. And you, I have to say, have got a very, very... sort of top lip. And it's quite nice, it's very nice. It's sort of very fine and, er...
Well, I've never suffered from facial hair, but they have electrolysis in my country.
Electrolysis for dissidents.
------
Time now for Sports Desk with Alan Partridge.
Alan, you're a bit of a word man, aren't you? You'd like to feel a word.
Um, I don't mind... I certainly... words, well, what we'd be without them. Wouldn't be able to communicate and, er, certainly always handy when you're having a conversation.
Yes, words. What do they feel like when they come out of your mouth?
What?
What does a word feel like when it comes out?
It's, well, sort of—what?
Yeah, but does a long word feel different to a short one?
Yeah, certainly, a long one's—
What about significant words? How do they feel?
Alan.
What?
Well, how do significant words feel when they come out?
A long... it'll be a long one.
Are they different in texture to—
Yeah.
Hello, and welcome to Sports Desk with me—
"Buttress" is a significant word?
Yeah.
Alan Partridge.

And it's a special desk of sport now as we look back on some of the sporting highlights of the past sports season. So lie down, relax, and let these sports commence.

When it's cycling championships you're after, you can't say fairer than the Tour de France. Dye Brandauer there in the lead, swaying from side to side in his own inimitable bike riding way. Klaus bin there on the inside, pumping away with those gristle-like muscly legs inside those tight Lycra shorts, which have become his trademark. I don't know what this man is playing at—there's no way. Surely the judges must come down like a tonne of bricks on that. Carrying bikes on top of a car is not a sportsman-like way to run this race.

You join me in the helicopter now as we look down on these cyclists that look somehow like cattle in a mad way, but cattle on bikes. And there's Sven Gunsson, closely followed by his great friend and teammate, Klaus bin. And the man with the bikes on his car is—yes, he's disqualified, as I said. And Klaus bin there wins, riding non-handed. No need for that.

And it was upsets all the way in the dive championships. Greg Lugani. Down. Double-back twister. Bangs his head and in. Textbook. Lovely. Let's see it again. He points down, up in the air, double-back twister, comes down, bangs his head on the board and in. Lovely. The judges surely will give him high marks for that.

And how's this for a tumble? There she goes. Bounce, flip, over and over and over and then down and then back and over and over and over and over and back and over and over and up and down. And that bit with the hands there—not so good. I mean, I can do that.

But for my money, the best punches were being pulled this season in the boxing ring. There, round four, in the middle of it here with the plucky Liverpudlian and the ginger boxer, as he's affectionately known to me. Thank goodness, actually, they're wearing gloves, because I've witnessed bare-knuckle boxing in a barn in Somerset about three years ago, and it was a sorry sight to see men goading them on in such a barbaric fashion. And I'm rather ashamed to say I was party to that goading. And two men fighting, as I saw in the barn that night, naked as the day they were born and fighting the way God intended. Wrestling at points. I don't know if you've seen Women in Love, the marvellous scene by the fire—it kind of resembled that.

I'm Alan Partridge, and that was my sporting season. Why don't you join me again for another one? Join me.

Thanks, Chris. And now some late-night soccer results. I'm Alan Partridge.

This is Division 2: Hull Paragraph 5, Portsmouth Bubblejet 1. Sheffield Hysterical 3, Chunky Norwich 1. Richmond Arithmetic versus Nottingham Marjorie, match postponed due to bent pitch.

Good night.
#6 Apr 27, 2026, 12:42 PM
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Christmas Ramble

Hi, I'm Alan Partridge. I'm a busy man. One day I can be recording a TV show, the next I can be shuttling up to Harrogate to host a Get Motivated weekend for the Bostik sales force. But when I go back to Norwich, I like to relax by rambling. I switch off my mobile phone, put my pager on mute, and enjoy the stillness of the Norfolk countryside.

I always like to go for a walk on Christmas morning for two to three hours alone. I do ask the others — my wife Carol, son Fernando (he's at Cambridge), and Denise — but they always make their excuses. It's as if they know that I, Alan Partridge, require solitude. So I hop in the car and pop along the A47 to Swaffham.

Swaffham was our stalking ground when we were young. We'd all pile into the back of a friend's mustard-coloured Triumph Dolomite, and we'd head over to Swaffham, have a picnic, and then drive home again. Great days. I'm not just saying Swaffham—I don't want Swaffham to get all the credit—it was the whole area. I'm talking about North Pickenham, Necton, Great Palgrave, Spall. We even went as far as East Walton. I mean, there was no stopping us. There's a caravan site there now—it's quite a good one. It's not gypsies, I mean it's proper toilets and proper amenities.

We're actually on the grounds of Mike Oldfield's country estate. We're not actually on his ground—this is common ground. That's Mr. Oldfield's over there—Hergest Ridge, name of one of his albums. We did ask Mr. Oldfield if we could film there, but he said, being Christmas, he'd wanted a bit of privacy. It's understandable. Would have been nice, you know. A bit small-minded, really. A bit nasty. Anyway, on with the ramble. Can't go over there—I'll go over there.

Oldfield hosts a celebrity clay pigeon shoot every Christmas. He invites around Paul Eddington, Adam Faith, Danny Baker, Moira Stewart, Edward Heath, and Mr. Motivator. And Francis Rossi of Status Quo.

That was my watch. I've just lost my bloomin' watch. Actually, keep that bit in—it's nice. I think it gives it a human touch. Nice. Keep it in.

I used to come here as a child on my own. I would skim stones. On one occasion, I hit a duck and it disappeared beneath the water. To this day, I don't know whether it was dead or just badly concussed.

I love birds, and I like to come here and make bird noises. I'm no Dr. Doolittle, but there are times when I think birds are the only ones I can really talk to. Maybe that's because I'm a partridge. Alan Partridge.

Someone should clean up these leaves.

In the same way I'm having a Christmas ramble, 2,000 years ago the Holy Family had a ramble from Nazareth to Bethlehem, in much the same way that I'm having a ramble from Norwich to Swaffham. Although I'm not comparing myself with Jesus—I don't want to get bogged down in that whole controversy again. Right? So I'm not Jesus. I want to make that absolutely clear. Right? I am not Jesus.

It's beautiful here. The nearest shop is over two miles away, which is a problem. Somebody suggested building a small snack bar, but there was a meeting at Swaffham Village Hall, and the planning people said it would spoil the beauty of the area. So I suggested a compromise, which was to be a series of vending machines placed in hedges. It could give out Kit Kats, Mars bars, chunky soup, slices of ham, Five Alive—but they voted it down, so you've just got to come prepared. I pack a finger of fudge, about the size of a slim panatella.

I used to come here when I was at East Anglia Polytechnic. It wasn't particularly happy days—I'd come down here on my own with a transistor and sing my favourite pop songs.

Thank you for joining me on a Christmas ramble with Alan Partridge. I'm going to go back to my wife now. Bye-bye.
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