MEDICAL OFFICER: Suffer from any illnesses?
FLETCHER: Bad feet.
MEDICAL OFFICER: Paid a recent visit to a doctor or hospital?
FLETCHER: Only for my bad feet.
MEDICAL OFFICER: Are you now or have you been at any time a practising homosexual?
FLETCHER: With these feet? Who’d want me?
FLETCHER: Miss Lonelyloins here, lovelorn Lennie, he wants to know whether the BBC plays prisoners’ requests?
MACKAY: No. The answer to that is no, on the grounds that is caused embarrassment.
MACKAY: To the prisoners’ families. The family might have excused his absence by telling the neighbours that the felon in question was abroad, or working on a North Sea oil rig.
LENNIE: Oh I see.
MACKAY: No doubt your wife, Fletcher, has told your friends that you’re on a five-year safari.
FLETCHER: (Reading paper) No, no. She tells them I’m doing missionary work in Scotland.
FLETCHER: …and he’s only commandeered our ping-pong table for your bleeding mess.
BARROWCLOUGH: Only until our billiard table’s been recovered.
FLETCHER: Oh yes, well…
BARROWCLOUGH: Some prisoner certainly tampered with it.
FLETCHER: Can you prove that?
BARROWCLOUGH: We can at least surmise it. When Nosher Garrett went over the wall he was picked up in Blackpool wearing a green baize suit.
FLETCHER: I had a friend once – haven’t told you this before, have I? He was a light-heavy. Good strong boy. Won a few fights. Suddenly thought he was the bee’s knees. Fast cars, easy women. Classic story of too much, too soon. He just blew up. He got into debt and ended up in one of those travelling booths. Four fights a night, seven nights a week. Well the body can’t take that punishment. His brain went soft, his reflexes went. You know – punchy. Just became like a vegetable – an incoherent non-thinking zombie.
MACKAY: What became of him?
FLETCHER: He joined the prison service as a Warder. Doing very well.
MACKAY: Brawling in the yard.
LENNIE: Weren’t brawling, sir.
JARVIS: Just fooling around. Playful high spirits, sir.
LENNIE: We were just re-enacting a big moment from last Sunday’s football on the telly. The bit where Peter Shilton dived at Charlie George’s feet.
MACKAY: I don’t recall Charlie George smashing a dustbin lid over Peter Shilton’s skull. Not even in the action replay.
VENABLES: Now to the business in hand. I have always found Christmas to be a very difficult time.
MACKAY: Yes, sir. So open to abuse. Contraband, bartering, smuggling. There isn’t a Christmas cake comes inside that isn’t laced with marijuana.
VENABLES: What are we doing about that?
MACKAY: I’ve taken precautions, sir. I’ve put Mr.Barrowclough on to sampling all food parcels.
VENABLES: Has he anything to report?
MACKAY: He’s still too stoned to tell me, sir.