(And that just can't be fakéd)
You'll get to see her naked!
It's Jane Shore (Hubba! Schwing!)
1st man with no helmet: I shall slash at your body, avoiding your unprotected head.
2nd MWNH: Me too, trying to avoid the trees in this oddly-placed forest.
MWNH: Have at you! Yeah me!
Jasper: Well done Henry Tudor (redirects to Henry VII)! For it is you, albeit played by a different actor.
Henry: Thank you Uncle Jasper Tudor, in case anyone wasn't paying attention. But answer me one thing?
Jasper: Of course, my nephew Henry Tudor, whom I am training to fight to recover his kingdom!
Henry: If this is Brittany, how come it looks suspiciously like Barnet?
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Margaret: Thank you your gracious, wonderful majesty. Thank you so much. Thank you so, SO much. Thank you...
Elizabeth: Hush, fool. What are you thanking me for anyway?
Margaret: For allowing my son Henry (Tudor, obviously), to return from exile.
Elizabeth: Well, now that Edward feels secure on his throne, with nobody seriously thinking about challenging Yorkist rule, with an heir and a spare poised to grow up into fine men, then.... Gosh that's a nasty cough you have there.
Margaret: <splutter, choke>
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Edward: FOOOOOOOD! More food. Fish. 'Shnishe, fish. <hic>
Random ginger ninja: Oh really father, you shouldn't eat so much.
Edward: Nonshenshe my daughter Elizhabeshch, shubshequently to become mother of Henry VIII and shit. Jusht in cashe any viewersh haven't been keeping up. <hic>
Elizabeth: What viewers? They're all watching The Hairy Bikers by now.
Edward: Ah. I *wondered* where barrel-dude had got to...
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Margaret (sings): "Henry's coming come, he's coming home, he's coming home! Three lions and some fleurs-de-lys on a shirt, golden crown still gleaming..."
Stanley: It could be worse, it could be Motown. Still, Henry's not coming back as contender for the throne. For that, someone would have to ask God for a miracle.
[Margaret pulls handle, drops through hatch and slides down James Bond-style bendy perspex tube into chapel, landing on her knees]
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Edward: <cough, splutter, retch>
Elizabeth: Are you *sure* you're all right?
Edward: Never better. [collapses]
Elizabeth: Help! The king has fallen over! See this chessboard!
Edward: I thought you meant me.
Elizabeth: That too.
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Edward: Send for Frodo.
Elizabeth: Nonsense. You'll get better soon.
Elizabeth: Thomas?
Thomas Grey: Yes mother, in case the audience aren't clear who I am?
Elizabeth: Go and get Frodo, the Privy Council, and Uncle Anthony.
Barrel Dude (sings): And Uncle Tom Cobbley and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllll.....
Elizabeth: I thought you were doing the Hairy Bikers show?
Barrel dude: Oops! [dodges quickly back to BBC2]
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Frodo: Get my 4-hoof drive sports utility horse ready!
Anne: Wassup?
Frodo: Edward's sick.
Anne: But his sons, you know, the princes. In the tower. They're just boys. Temporarily...
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Stanley: Mags? Did you order God to do this?
Margaret: Look, my husband Lord Stanley - why do we never get to find out your first name? - if the queen can't cure her with witchcraft, then it's her fault.
Stanley: Sounds reasonable. But I think Henry Tudor should stay in Brittany for now. You know, options open and all that.
Margaret: Righty-ho. Still; one down, eh? [crosses Edward off list]
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Duchess Cecily: Frodo! Anne! Nice to see you. Beware of the queen. Ah - Brackenbury! Buckingham! Another Extra! Pointy-Headed Guard! Barrel Dude!
Barrel Dude: Aaaarf-ernoooon!
[Awkward pause]
Barrel Dude: Sorry. [dodges quickly back to BBC2]
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Edward: You'll all make sure my son becomes a good king, won't you?
Frodo: Oh yes, absolutely.
Edward: Frodo, look after my boy.
Elizabeth: *Him?* You're avin' a laugh!
Edward: No, he's definitely Lord Protector. I googled it.
Elizabeth: Shite
------------------------------------------------------------------
Edward: Dying now. Love you. Bye.
Elizabeth: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
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Elizabeth: Why aren't you bowing to me?
Duchess: We're equal now. Both mothers to a king. Or in my case, two kings.
Elizabeth: What a giveaway...
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Duchess: Get the boy. Don't trust the witch.
Anne: Right. She had George executed, poisoned my sister, dropped a slug in my mulled wine and caused a major anticyclone to blow in from the west.
Frodo: But surely -
Anne: FROH-DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!
Frodo: Right. This is me going to be Lord Protector. See me running?
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Anne: Sir Robert? Throw Jane Shore out. We don't want her sort here.
Barrel Dude, wearing Posh Doublet and hoping nobody notices: Roighty-ho. What soort is thaaart ennyhoo?
Anne: She's an actress, wearing an authentic costume.
Jane Shore: 'Tis an fair cop. Shall we both pop over to BBC2 then?
Barrel Dude: Praaper jaaarb!
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Jasper: Change of plan. Stayin' ere like.
Henry: Is it God's will?
Jasper: It's from higher up than that. It's your mother's orders.
Henry: Merde.
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Barrel Dude: Oi'm tekkin' the boy ter Lunnon.
Edward V: I don't think so, fatso. You could never put up with my ill-tempered petulance long enough! [puts frog down Barrel Dude's hose, spill ink on royal warrant]
Barrel Dude: Why are you such a nasty little tick?
Edward V: So the viewers start thinking that murder is too good for me.
Grey: What viewers?
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Man in darkened doorway, might be Anthony, but by this point nobody really cares: Jane? What are you doing here?
Jane Shore: <sob> I am banished from court, and I can't find Hastings anywhere in the script.... I could have been in EastEnders you know, but I thought this would be a serious costume drama <breaks down sobbing>
Whoever he is: Fancy a shag?
Jane Shore: Oh what the hell.... Go on then. Just explain the political situation first.
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Frodo: You're safe here.
Edward V: Says you. I think you're all horrible. You're the Duke and Duchess of Poop. And you live in a castle made of poop.
Anne: I'll just go and make sure there are enough pillows on your bed...
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Elizabeth: Bum. Right, everyone into sanctuary, while I blame everyone else.
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Stanley: She's taken the whole treasury off into sanctuary.
Margaret: That's bad.
Stanley: No, that's good - it means she doesn't trust Frodo and vice versa.
Margaret: But then it would be terrible - they'd fight each other, the throne would be vacant and - ah. You know, I was right to marry you, you devious bastard.
Stanley: One does one's best.
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Barrel Dude: All in th'abbey.
Frodo: Bugger. Go and arrest some people. Lots of people.
Barrel Dude: Righty-ho.
Frodo: What could she do from sanctuary though?
Anne: Well, last time she summoned up a magical fog to conceal the fact that you were doing the Battle of Barnet with only 15 men.
Frodo: Would it help if I keep saying how loyal I am to King Rotten Tick Snot-Features?
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Princess Ginger: Mother! We're surrounded by seven pointy-headed guards! All is lost!
Elizabeth: Hush, fool. Do you think your father was intimidated to face a Lancastrian army four times the size of his own?
Princess: You mean there were twelve of them? Gosh, that *is* quite a lot, yes...
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Margaret: In witchy what's-her-face's absence, might I make myself subvers- er, I mean *useful* to you?
Anne: Whatever.
Frodo: Erm, we're going to crown thingy. Yes. Definitely.
Anne: Not bothered. See me not getting a new frock? That's me not being bothered.
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Hooded figure: Let me in. [removes hood]
Elizabeth: Jane Shore! I thought you were with Hastings!
Jane: He's not even in the script. Look, Anthony has a plan. Coronation, pointy-headed guards go away, everything is whoopy-doo.
Elizabeth: Hmmm.
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Stanley: A COMPROMISE? EVERYONE STAYING ALIVE? THIS IS A DISASTER! GET STUCK IN!
Margaret: Righty-ho.
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Margaret: You know, old rumours, Edward was a bastard, that sort of thing. I won't stand for it!
Elizabeth: Who said so?
Margaret: The entire army. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, there's only seven of them.
Elizabeth: Why are you telling me?
Margaret: Because I'm stirring things - er, I mean I'm genuinely concerned. You know me. Oh, and Anne is refusing to get a new frock for your son's coronation. I wouldn't worry about it. I mean, trust Frodo by all means.
Elizabeth: Shite.
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Stanley: ....and Jane Shore's been passing messages for her. Wouldn't worry about it if I were you...
Frodo: Why are you worried?
Stanley: I care only for you, your stumpy tousle-haired magnificence.
Frodo: Ah. Right.
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Jane: How's the poem coming on?
Anthony: "There was a young lady name Shore, Who was known as a bit of a -"
Jane: Yes?
Anthony: Can't think of a rhyme...
Jane: My what a big sword you have...
Anthony: Why thank you.
Jane: I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to that man who's just burst in.
Anthony: Shite.
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Frodo: I am sworn to protect them all.
Anne: Yes, but the best way to avoid violence is with more violence.
Frodo: Fair enough.
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Jane: I'm being forced to walk naked through London. Why is everyone looking at me?
Omnes: Er, no idea love... <cough, splutter, make tempera-on-panel paintings>
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Elizabeth: Right family, gather round - everything's a bit shite.
Chorus of Woodvilles: You think we hadn't noticed?
Elizabeth: We need a double...
Random Woodvilles: But the bar isn't open yet.
Elizabeth: No, I mean dressing up Harry Potter as the prince.
Harry Potter: EXPECTO CONFUSIORUM!
Elizabeth: I CURSE FRODO OF GLOUCESTER WITH EVERYTHING YOU'VE ALL GOOGLED! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
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Anne: She has cursed you! I recognise the signs of overacting.
Frodo: ARGH! MY ARM! [morphs into Laurence Olivier in Richard III]
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Barrel Dude: Come to search the house, y'ladyship...
Margaret: B-b-b-b-but we're on your side. I think. How many sides are there now?
Barrel Dude: Let's have a look in here...
Margaret: THAT'S MY BIBLE! IT'S SIGNED BY THE AUTHOR!
Barrel Dude: Fair enough. You're good to go.
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Elizabeth: Let's do something so complicated nobody will be able to follow it.
Princess Ginger: Is anyone still trying?
Elizabeth: That's why it's so fiendishly clever.
Princess Ginger: Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight...
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Frodo: Look Snotty Tick-Features, I've brought your brother to see you! [Brandishes ventriloquist's dummy with bag over it's head]
Edward V: Hello Titch.
Frodo [through gritted teeth, while waving dummy]: Greetings, your greatly gracious grace.
Edward: No need to be so formal, Richard. Why don't you call me Bouncy Bubble-Bonce like you used to, and offer me a bottle of beer?
Frodo: Shite...
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Anne: He'll only grow up to be even more annoying, you know.
Frodo: Well what do you suggest, daughter of a family with an established record of getting rid of kings on a regular basis with no regard for succession?
Anne: Make yourself king.
Frodo: I couldn't possible. It would be stealing.
Duchess: No it wouldn't.
Frodo: I can't say yes it would or it would look like *I'm* doing the bad panto thing.
Stanley: Well there you go.
Duchess: Edward was married before.
Frodo: Only a few times.
Anne: Well there you are.
Frodo: OK, summon the MPs and get the free beer ready...
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Margaret: Dissolve the princes in an acid bath, marry the Ginger Ninja to Henry and bob's yer uncle! What could possibly go wrong?
Stanley: That's the spirit!
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Margaret's doctor: Forgive the plague mask, but I have plague.
Ginger: Eauw.
Doctor: Parliament have been bribed with free beer to declare your marriage invalid and your children illegitimate. Frodo is now King.
Ginger: He can't!
Doctor: He has!
Elizabeth: Shite.
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Anthony: Did you read my e-mail?
Frodo: Makes no difference. I'm the King.
Anthony: Oh no you're not!
Frodo: Oh yes I am!
Anthony: Hah! Got you!
Frodo: KILL HIM.
Anthony: Shite.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ginger: Mother! You will be the death of us all. Except me, obviously. I'm going to be queen.
Elizabeth: You've had a vision haven't you?
Ginger: Yes. Well, that and google.
Elizabeth: And do we get a second series?
Ginger: Dream on.
