Season 3 Episode 4: The Race for Piffling

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AKA Charlie Sheen, only on Netflix, September 10th.

Georgie Crusoe works in a funeral home in the village of Piffling Vale.

It used to be the only one.

It isn't anymore.

The people of Piffling are a happy bunch, led by a much-loved mayor.

But politics can be a tricky game, as Georgie is about to find out.

Wooden Overcoats, created by David K.

Barnes.

Season 3, Episode 4, The Race for Piffling by Tom Crowley.

I was sat upon the Piffling Cliffs, observing the funeral of a true true local legend, Sir Barclay Chipping, a beloved eccentric on the political scene who had perished in a tragic boating accident.

And as Sir Barclay's new yacht slid off the trailer and crushed him to death, I'm sure he thought to himself, at least you did something for your community.

After all, he ran for mayor seven times in a row, and whilst he lost pitifully on every occasion, he won a place in our hearts.

And now for a tribute from his sparring partner over those many ignoble campaigns, Desmond Desmond.

We shall all miss Sir Barkley and his amusing political alias, Barmy Baron Undercrackers, especially how he cartwheel around the village in those enormous underpants, not only on Polling Day, but on every other day of the calendar, excluding bank holidays, of course.

And thank you all for wearing your largest pants today, as Sir Barkley specified in his will.

I especially like the pair patterned with Mayor Desmond's face.

I don't.

Anyway, with no heir to replace him, we must also mourn Sir Barkley's political movement, the mandatory Big Pants Barley.

Such a shame we won't see that familiar name next to mine on the ballot next week's election.

Can I ask a question?

I don't know.

Can she, Nigel?

Oh, yes.

It's the QAs that make these funerals work, really.

Then ask away.

Will there be anyone else on the ballot next week?

Oh, well, I suppose not.

It'll just be little old me, all of my own.

Maybe we shouldn't bother with an election.

I mean, I don't mind, either way.

Are you proposing to become some kind of dictator?

No, no,

only if you'd vote for it.

You can't just strip us of our democratic rights.

Oh, my.

Get it home.

Perhaps I should tackle this.

Yes, everybody, my secretary, Miss Cruzer, would like to make a statement that will hopefully get me out of trouble.

There, I've wound them up for you.

Okay, listen up, you lot.

What's your problem?

You've only ever voted for Desmond before.

We still have the choice to vote for someone else.

Some old nutter with an underpants fixation.

Oh, she's mocking a dead man before he's even laid to rest.

Thank you.

I'll take it from here, Georgie.

Everyone, please, there's no need to get upset.

Of course, the mayor cares deeply about about the democratic process, right, Des?

If it helps.

And should any challenges to the post emerge, I'm sure he'd welcome the chance to put his case for re-election forward to all of us.

Well said.

Eric knows what it's all about.

Maybe he should be mayor.

Oh, that's a point.

Oh, dear.

Now, wait a second.

You can't put Eric on the ballot.

Why not?

Because

he'd win.

Yay!

Jump up for mayor!

No!

Oh, God,

Okay, everyone, let's not get carried away.

It'll be a golden age.

You're happy now, Eric?

No!

I don't want to be mayor, honestly.

Desmond!

Don't talk to me, I'm frightened.

Look, put me on the ballot if you really want to, but you ought to know that.

Chapman!

Chapman!

Chapman!

Chapman!

Right.

Well,

you seem pretty keen.

Eric,

you can't do this.

Maybe a bit of healthy composition wouldn't hurt.

No, stop saying things.

But everyone, everyone, please listen to me.

I think we've listened to quite enough out of you this morning, Mr.

Judas.

Settle down, everybody.

Settle down.

This

is a memorial service for God's sake.

We should behave with dignity and respect.

So let's pull our big pants up and get the damn thing over with.

As per Sir Barclay's final request, his coffin was shunted off the Piffling cliffs and his body went out with the tide, his enormous pants spreading across the waves in tribute.

But I knew that Piffling's political landscape had felt a mighty tremor.

And half an hour later, that tremor had reached fun funerals.

Wow!

Chapman!

Ah, you're catching on!

But you need to really put your spleen into it like this.

Shut up, Roger.

Georgie, what's going on?

Think of the worst five-word sentence possible.

Mum and dad back.

Oh, dear.

No, Eric is running for mayor.

He's what?

Eric Chapman, Mayor of Pifley.

It's repulsive.

Just think of him up there on his drone, clutching his gavel.

We'd never let it down.

Gavel.

Exactly.

We can't let a man like that govern this whole entire island.

He's got to be stopped.

And he will be stopped.

Are you with me?

I said, are you with me?

What?

Playing devil's advocate for a moment.

No man has ever said that and then said anything sensible.

It's just, well,

if Chapman were elected mayor, then surely he couldn't run his funeral.

Oh, his booknook.

What?

I mean, nobody can have that much time.

And there must be laws against it.

There are.

But, guys, we've never underestimated his talent for evil, so let's not start doing it now.

We'd have the monopoly on funerals again, just like before.

We don't have to defeat Chapman if he defeats himself all the way to the top.

I'm surprised he won't give up the business.

He was put on the spot by an angry mob.

Ah, democracy in action.

Right, I think we're all agreed.

We've got to help Chapman win.

What?

We'll throw ourselves behind him.

Do everything we can.

A few thousand flyers should be a good start.

That's our capital.

You were saving up to buy back the kettle.

When victory is ours, I can buy as many kettles as I want.

One, you only need one.

And besides, do you really think people are going to believe you when you tell them you support Eric Chapman?

I've disguised my contempt for him so far.

I can keep it up for a little while longer.

Right, I'm off to get the flyers.

If anyone calls, say vote, Chapman.

Bye now.

Ah, for flip sake!

We don't allow language like that in here.

This is completely bloody typical.

I've had your back every time you've tried some stupid venture to knock Eric down a peg or two in the past, and now I need your help to do exactly the same thing.

And you go and join the other side!

It's kill-o-be-kills, Georgie.

No, it's not.

It's booting out a male we've always liked for a sod we've always hated.

Making us the only funeral home.

And then everything will be just like before, except worse.

Rajad, wouldn't it be better for us to spend all this money and energy on some actual work?

What work?

We haven't got any clients.

Then go and find us some.

Antigone, trust me.

Once Chapman's elected, they'll all be our clients.

I don't know why I even bother.

Welcome to my world.

This extra spanner in the ointment annoyed Georgie intensely.

She was already familiar with the challenge of asking the public to choose someone else over Eric Chapman.

This was going to be difficult.

Mr.

Mayor?

Mr.

Mayor, why are you under the desk?

They'll never find me here.

Look, my lad, I know you've had it easy for a while now.

Easy?

Let me tell you.

I've usually been kept very busy, I know that.

So, you're just gonna throw it all away.

You're a brilliant mayor.

Piffling needs you.

Does it?

Of course it does.

You're gonna win that election, and with my help, it'll be a landslide.

Look at these.

Oh, God.

Diagrams.

These charts represent the demographics of the island.

Now, what would you say is the number one thing people know about you?

Well, that

I'm the mayor.

You've got it!

Good old Mayor Desmond.

Like a cosy, beloved old shoe.

I'm not an old shoe!

For this campaign, yes, you are.

You're reliable, and you're known, and that's what people like.

Oh.

Can we put that on a t-shirt?

I've already done it.

Oh, my.

Hello, Mr.

Mayor.

Georgie.

What the hell do you want, Eric?

I just wanted to check in before this rodeo gets started.

Rodeo is right, Eric, because you're going to get booked.

Can we have that on a t-shirt?

See, this is exactly what I'm talking about.

That was a really ugly scene this morning.

Well, if you can't stand the heat, get off the volcano.

T-shirt?

No, we can't carry on like this, Desmond.

I don't want this election to get in the way of our friendship.

Oh, you're right, Eric.

This is all getting out of hand, isn't it?

Exactly.

Well, in that case, I think the best thing I can do is drop out of the race.

Sure!

I'm nothing more than a comfy old shoe.

Maybe you could succeed when I failed and turn our village into a town.

Come on, me lads, you're not thinking straight.

You can't concede.

That's what I came here to do.

Really?

I was thinking it over and I'm going with my instinct.

I'm out.

You win again, Mr.

Mayor.

The village is yours.

Oh.

Oh,

I see.

What?

Everything works out perfectly for Eric Chapman.

Again.

It works out perfectly for all of us.

The people are screaming for Chapman to take high office because he's such a great guy, but because he's an even greater guy, he concedes before the race even starts, because he assumes he'd win if he didn't.

I don't think that would fit on a t-shirt.

Georgie, listen to me.

I don't want to be mayor, so I'm not running for mayor.

Whatever, Chapman.

You don't get off that easily.

Alright, give me those charts.

Earth to Georgie, I just want the mayor to be the mayor.

Over.

And he will be after he beats the living jam out of you on polling day.

Double or burn.

Georgie, you're really beginning to tick me off.

Well, that's funny, because you've been ticking me off since the beginning of time.

Coming number number 39.

Your boat is on fire!

Okay.

You know what, Georgie?

You've helped me to change my mind.

Eric Chapman is back in the ring.

Suits us just fine.

We're gonna tear you to pieces.

What's happening?

I'll tell you what's happening.

I'm going for the top job, and I'm in it to win it.

So are we, and it's gonna get bloodier.

Enjoy yourself.

No, you enjoy yourself.

Oh, I will.

So will I.

So, is he still going to let me win?

Your worship, it's time to get our game on.

After lunch!

No!

Oh!

The race for Piffling had begun.

Eric Chapman versus Desmond Desmond, a battle of the giants.

Over the ensuing days, I tagged along with Georgie on the campaign trail to take notes for my first political thriller.

Hey, Tanya, you got a minute?

Why, yes, I have.

What's it all about, Georgie?

I'm just doing some canvassing for next week's election, and I was wondering if my Desmond can count on your vote.

Ah, no, no, no.

I don't like discussing politics, and I never have.

It's all propaganda, isn't it?

When you think about it, not when you think about it, no.

Come polling day, I shall survey my options and vote in what I believe to be the best interests of the village.

So, could I tell you what Desmond's planning to do?

No, no, you couldn't.

It's just some information.

I can't hear you.

Darling, what's happening out there?

My democratic rights are being stifled by an establishment stooge.

Come away, Tanya.

Ah, come on.

Well, look who it is.

Knocking on a few doors, are we?

So what if I am?

I might give it a go myself if you don't mind to.

Knock yourself out.

La la la la la la la.

I can't hear you.

Oh!

Hello, Eric.

Tanya.

Sorry to just show up like this, but I wanted a word.

About the election.

We don't have to talk about politics politics if you'd rather not.

No, I'd be glad to.

Come in.

Bill, Eric's Pop Brown.

Oh, lovely.

Come on.

I'll put the kettle on.

All right, Mr.

Wise Guy.

I think it's time we kicked things up a notch.

As Georgie darted away to do just that, her candidate was carrying out some canvassing of his own.

And so...

For tried and tested, dependable leadership, I hope you'll vote for me next week.

After all, as I like to say, why settle for anything new?

Vote Desmond.

Well done, Desi.

Very compelling.

Now, how about trying it on someone who isn't your boyfriend?

Yes,

well, um,

maybe

after another biscuit.

Oh, my communion wafers.

Oh, whoops.

And whilst the mayor fished out the wafer from his chamomile tea, I watched Eric knocking on doors.

Yes?

Afternoon, Miss Scruple.

Hello, Mr.

Chapman.

Eh, I'm not dead yet, you know.

No, I'm just here to ask if you'd consider voting for me in the mayoral election.

Oh, is it that time already?

Right then.

I want tax cuts, winter fuel, and a free bus pass.

We haven't got a bus, but consider it done.

Hmm.

Bit of a pushover, aren't you?

Okay, get your own bus pass.

Oh, that's more like it.

You've got my vote.

The sensible choice, Miss Hoople.

Ha!

A vote for Chapman is a vote for prosperity.

Roodyard, you see, only Eric Chapman can guarantee a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage.

But I haven't got a garage.

Just a potting shed.

Then we'll put a car in there.

Birch Chapman.

What are you doing?

Helping.

For the love of God, don't hear Miss Scruple.

Take a flyer.

Take a badge.

Oh, I don't know.

How about an air horn?

What the hell are you doing?

Winning the election.

Is he with you, Mr.

Chapman?

No.

Then you can stuff your election up your trousers.

Damn.

You were so close, too.

Bloody hell, Rudyard.

What's your game?

Boggle, but I can't see how that's relevant.

Do you know what I mean?

What are you up to?

This is the first time you've ever tried to help me with something.

And it won't be the last.

That's what I'm talking about.

Why did you say it like that?

Now look here, Chapman.

No, Rudyard, you look here.

I'm not sure that works.

I don't know what you're up to, but I won't be using wild claims and empty promises.

I'm fighting this thing fairly, and I'm sure Desmond will too.

Oh, then you haven't heard?

Heard what?

On the radio.

This is Jennifer Delacroix, Piffling FM, with another message from today's sponsor.

I want to tell you about a monster called Eric Chapman.

What the?

Eric Chapman is guilty of animal cruelty.

There's more than one way to skin a cat.

But Eric Chapman is an alcoholic.

I think I'll have a light ale.

I can't believe this.

Eric Chapman enjoys global warming.

I love hurting the environment.

Eric Chapman could become mayor

unless you stop him first.

Vote Desmond.

Right.

So that's the way the wind's blowing, is it?

Excuse me, Rudyard, and keep listening.

You forgot your air horn!

Oh, strong words from the Vote Desmond campaign, and I'm sure we'll all be taking them at face value.

But will Eric Chapman himself eventually rebut these claims?

when he comes into the studio only a few moments ago.

Hello, Mr.

Chapman.

Hi, Jennifer.

I'd just like to tell the people of Piffling that I'm disappointed to see my opponent resorting to obvious lies and underhand tricks.

When you all go to the polling stations next week, I just want you to think about us both carefully and then vote with your hearts.

That's all I ask.

Think, care, vote.

Oh, that was cracking.

I'm definitely voting for you.

My opinions may not reflect those of Piffling FM or any of its subsidiaries.

Sterling work, Chapman.

Time to get winning.

After all, it's what you're best at.

And tune in this weekend to hear the two candidates going head to head in our mayoral debate.

All the important hot-button issues will be covered, and I'm looking forward to finding out exactly what they are.

Fine.

It's fine.

The people love Desmond.

He's honest, dependable, and usually kept very busy.

Is that enough?

Aren't you getting a little carried away with all this?

No!

You know what, Antigone?

I could be doing a hell of a lot more.

Eric's gonna win this over my dead body.

He wins everything else.

Why try to hold back the tide?

I'm great at holding back the tide.

You're gonna vote for us, aren't you?

I don't see the point.

Nothing ever changes.

We're just whiling away the days until the heat death of the universe.

It's closer than you think.

But wouldn't you rather do that with Desmond as Matt?

I'm not entirely sure it makes a difference.

But

why not?

Georgie, if I can give you two words of advice, it's this.

Give up.

Relinquish all hope of anything changing for the better.

Resign yourself to defeat.

And blow out the spark of hope in your heart before it turns you to dust.

Thanks, mate.

Hang on.

No, no.

That's rubbish.

I'd let it sink in a bit.

Nothing gets better.

Nothing ever changes.

I'm having that inscribed on my headstone.

Then, how about when you made yourself an equal partner in fun funerals, eh?

Eh?

Wasn't that a big change?

Well, I'd.

How come you're always throwing yourself at projects like deadly chocolates and naughty books?

And how come this place is still standing despite everything we've been through?

Because we are the masters of our own destinies, and you, Antigone, are the living proof.

No, no, I can't be.

I'm going to fight this thing with everything I've got because it's worth worth doing.

And I'll see you on polling day.

Me?

Yes.

As a conscientious resident of Piffling Vale, you are gonna have your say.

But I don't know who to vote for.

Then work it out.

Well, on the one hand, if Chapman wasn't running his funeral parlour, we'd be doing better, so I should probably vote for him.

Though, on the other hand, the mayor is the mayor, so I ought to vote for him.

But on the other hand, Chapman can do anything, so maybe.

But on the other hand, you'll be hurt if I don't vote for the mayor.

But on the other hand, Roger will annoy me if I don't vote for Chapman.

For God's sake, look, I'm up to five hands.

How can someone make an informed decision when they've got all this information?

I'm gonna think about this and then you'll be sorry.

I hate choices

as tensions flared and polling day drew nearer, the two candidates fought tooth and nail to win the approval of Pifflings public.

Hello?

What?

Could I talk to you?

No, I'm not in.

Aren't you?

No!

Oh, well, I'll come back when you are.

We should move on.

No, no, I don't mind waiting.

And then came the day of the big debate, live from Piffling FM.

A number of guests had squeezed themselves into what Jennifer Delacroix called her studio, aka her parents' kitchen, and I sat in the corner, notebook in paw, to watch it all unfold.

Everyone,

everyone!

Can I have your attention, please?

Not now, mum.

Your father wants a yoga.

Go to shops!

Right, listen up.

We're about to go on the air.

Remember, no swearing or brand names.

But I bloody love Pepsi.

You don't anymore, Bill, okay?

Three, two, one.

Piffling FM,

Mayor Election.

This is Jennifer Delacroix Pipling FM presenting an election special broadcast, the Great Debate.

On my left, I have the incumbent Mayor, His Worship Desmond Desmond, and his campaign manager, Georgie Crusoe.

A pleasure to be here.

Ditto.

And to my right, our challenger, Eric Chapman, with his campaign manager, Rudyard Funn.

Thank you.

Not my campaign manager.

I have to say, this event has drawn the most callers we've ever had.

And we're going to hear from all three of them in the next few minutes.

Caller number one.

Hello.

Hello, um, is Georgie there?

Nana, hey, what's your question?

Are you coming back for tea later?

I've got some films to watch with that Kevin Costner.

Do you even like him?

Oh,

yeah.

Sorry to interrupt you, Caller, but do you have a question for our candidates?

Yes, I do.

Is Georgie coming back for tea tonight?

Yes, Nana.

All good.

Bye then.

Well, a rigorous start to our debate.

But I'd like to ask ask our candidates, what would you say has been your greatest contribution to Piffline Vale?

Eric?

Oh, gosh.

Well, I found at our second funeral home.

What?

Sorry, it's automatic.

As a counsellor, I've always promoted community values.

Oh, and I restocked the aquarium with some actual fish.

It's just not the same anymore.

Rootyard, and yeah, I think I helped to open the community hospital.

It's difficult to choose any one thing.

Gosh, it's jolly impressive when you stack it all up like that, in it?

Mayor Desmond, your response?

Be careful.

Don't worry, Miss Crusoe.

I've got this one.

I gave Eric permission to do all those things.

God's sake.

Thanks again, Desmond.

Don't mention it, old boy.

You've done us all proud.

Stop saying nice things.

On to our second question.

Hello, caller number two.

Hello.

Yeah, Sig Marlowe here.

My question is, would the candidates be prepared to launch nuclear weapons in the first strike capacity?

Say yes.

Why do you need to know that?

That sounds like a condescending liberal-elite attitude to me.

No offense, Eric Boyd.

Mayor Desmond, would you hit the big red button?

Well, I've never thought of it, really.

What a horrible idea.

I'd hate to have that sort of power in my hands.

Again.

Can I get back to you on that one, Mr.

Marlowe?

No problem.

When would so ya?

After the election, I think.

Got it in the diary.

Cheers.

Bye.

Thank you, Sid.

Well, I think things are hot enough, so let's take a brief recess and check in with the polls.

Bill, Tanya, where do you stand?

I think I'd vote for Desmond.

Probably Eric, I think.

Well, there we are.

It's neck and neck in the polls, so there's still everything to play for.

Neck and neck?

Chapman, what are you playing at?

I'm not in the mood for this, Rudyard.

But you should be wiping the floor with this old fool.

You can't call him that.

You should wipe floors with mocks, not people.

Jennifer, I'm sorry, but this man is not and never has been my campaign manager.

He's an agent provocateur.

I am not!

Mr.

Fun, you may be a lingerie model, but you've no place in this debate.

I'm gonna have to ask you to leave this studio before we can proceed.

On your bike, Rudyard.

All right.

All right.

I've been thrown out of better kitchens than this.

You haven't heard the last of me.

It's all getting a little heated, Miss Crusoe.

Eric's from the ropes.

You've got to go in for the kill.

Eyes on the prize.

Eyes on the prize.

Resuming the questions.

Who's our third caller?

It's Reverend Wavering here.

Nigel?

My question is for Desmond.

I was just wondering, um,

if he weren't mare anymore, would he have more time to spend with a certain

special vicar?

Oh,

who crumbs?

Don't let it draw you, come on.

It's um,

well,

I suppose if my schedule were to open up a little, um

you can do this.

I uh

I uh

I would yes no I can't lie about it.

I'd have much more time, but I love this job

and I love you too, Nigel.

Oh, Desmond,

I don't know what to do, Desmond.

You've got to fight on you you really think so?

Yes, you've got to win!

Beat the living daylights out of that little blonde squirt.

I never liked him anyway.

Thanks, Nigel.

Oh, Cork, is he still there?

Yes.

Oh, uh.

Well, that brings us to the end of our.

Oh, no, wait.

We have a fourth caller.

Unprecedented.

New caller, what's your name, and what's your question?

Now, look here.

I mean,

hello.

My name is

Fonyard Rudd Frost.

And I'd just like to say this.

Toler, are you still there?

Yes.

I'm Intiganifan, and I'm an undecided voter.

Finally!

I spent hours on that.

I've been listening to this whole ridiculous debate, trying to make up my mind.

And let me tell you, I'm still undecided.

Not one of you has addressed the most important question of all.

And what what question is that?

What on earth are you going to do to improve life on this island anyway?

Come on, Mayor, you must have thought of this.

I mean, I quite like what the mayor's been doing already.

Really?

Yeah.

I'd probably carry on doing that.

I think I'd do the same, actually.

That sounds great.

Excellent.

A stimulating exchange of ideas there.

But you haven't answered the question.

You haven't answered the question.

And that concludes this debate.

Let's go to the polls.

I've totally changed my mind.

We need Eric.

See, I think Desmond now.

What an upset.

And yet, still, neck and neck.

This should be an election day to remember.

This is Jennifer Delacroix, Pifflin FM, saying, see you at the polls.

Mayoral Election!

Well done, everybody.

Oh, that was bloodthirsty stuff.

Anyone fancy a cuppa?

Oh, actually, if you're offering, that'd be hard to be a man.

You know, Eric, this election isn't making much sense to me at the moment.

I know what you mean.

Still, can't back up now, eh, I suppose?

Your worship, stop fraternizing with the enemy.

We've got to regain some ground.

Work to do, and lots of it.

Oh, certainly, Miss Crusoe.

See you at the polls, Eric.

May the best man win and all that.

Definitely.

May the best man win.

Georgie, can I have a word?

I'm busy winning the election.

Look, you want to fight for the mayor, and so you want me to lose.

I get that.

But I can't shake the feeling that you

actually resent me on a personal level.

You really can't handle it, can you?

Even if one person doesn't like you, Mr.

Perfect needs to have it all.

Well, says you.

I'm great at getting presents.

I'm great at speaking Catalan.

I'm great at playing the electric guitar while riding a unicycle.

What are you even talking about?

You can do anything.

Anytime, anywhere.

And everyone knows it.

So why waste your time being jealous of me when you've got nothing to be jealous of?

Don't flatter yourself, Eric.

I'll see you at the polls.

No, wait.

Georgie.

Do you think you can hand me a yogurt, though?

Yes, Mrs.

Delacroix.

Time was running out.

The campaigning never stopped.

And then it arrived.

Polling day.

I took a trip to the village hall to find out the result first hand.

Not long now.

Oh dear.

Oh dear me.

It's fire, isn't it?

Yeah.

How long do we have on the clock, Bill?

Tanya?

Nearly there, everyone.

Just 15 seconds left.

That's the way.

I'll need a vote.

That's right.

Go for it on TNI.

Woo!

Quick!

Someone, ballot paid a pen!

There!

The polls are now blow!

I did it!

I did it just in time.

Here, have a chair.

Mind by my vote, are we?

No, you've already voted.

In that case, thank you, thank you.

Jennifer Delacroix, Piffling, F.M.

How are the two candidates feeling as they await the outcome?

Very happy for this all to be coming to an end.

Same here, with bells on.

Desmond, I finished breaking the election day punch.

It's very algorithm.

Oh, I'll say it is.

Not now, nana.

Oh, blimey, that sounds the ticket.

Shall we, Eric?

Way ahead of you, Desmond.

Right, I finished.

I put a vote chapman leaflet through every front door on the island.

I've done my bet for democracy.

democracy.

Now,

hand me that ballot paper.

You can't, mate.

We just closed the polls.

You're too late.

What?

Now, look here.

Sorry, Mr.

Funn, rules are rules.

Oh, can't I just slip in one little vote?

Are you trying to pervert the course of our democratic system?

Yes, and you're not helping at all.

Oh, stop moaning, Rogada.

It's gonna win, and we both know it.

Yes.

You know, doing all this campaigning for him, I've realised he's not such a bad fellow in a way.

We've been really quite unfair on him in the past.

We should have him home for dinner again.

Perhaps the occasional brunch.

Thank you, Georgie.

The man's a monster.

Yeah.

Citizens of Pifling, we have a result.

That was quite.

Could you all gather round, please?

Drop rolls.

The winner of the Pifling Vale mayoral election is

Desmond Desmond.

What?

I won.

We won.

I won!

Oh, thank you.

Yeah,

in your face, Chapman.

Congratulations, Desmond.

I'm so happy!

Congratulations, your worship.

No hard feelings.

None at all, Eric Lamb.

Eric, I'm so glad things are back to normal.

Trying not to like you was such a strain.

No, no, no, stop everything!

I demand a recount!

All right, I'll do it now.

Mayor Desmond wins!

Yay!

Hang on.

How many votes were there?

Three.

Three!

Yeah, having a proper election's been so exhausting.

I think everyone just stayed at home.

I miss Baron Undercrackers.

He made politics fun.

But didn't you vote?

No, I think all politicians are liars.

And I'm an anarchist.

Reverend.

Ah, I was busy making the punch.

Sorry, Desmond.

This is great punch.

Article, how about you?

Who did you vote for?

Nobody.

Ha!

Yes, you did.

We saw you.

I spoiled my ballot.

All those leaflets and debates, and none of it made any sense.

And I was right all along.

Nothing's changed.

What's the point?

Nothing's changed.

I knew I was right.

If life gives you lemons, throw them away.

Wait, what was the vote, Share?

Two for Desmond, one for Eric.

Well, I voted, and so did Desmond, so, ha, Chapman.

All that, ooh, I'm Eric Chapman.

I don't even want to be mayor, and you still voted for yourself.

No, I didn't.

I voted for Desmond.

What?

That's funny.

I voted for you.

Oh, cheers, Desmond.

Unbelievable.

So there you have it.

The next mayor of Pifflingvale will be the mayor.

How do you feel about the result, Mr.

Chapman?

Delighted.

Desmond is the best mayor this island could ever hope for, and I'm glad to be going back to Chapman's, where I'll be putting the fun in funerals like usual.

Kind and dignified, even in defeat, and so charming.

Eric Chapman, everybody.

Cheers.

Applause.

Maybe Antonio was right after all.

He shouldn't wish for the impossible.

Miss Crusoe.

Oh, hey, Mayor.

I just wanted to say thank you for everything.

Don't mention it.

No, really.

This whole election had me more than a little worried.

I didn't think I was up to the task, even at the end there.

But you believed in me so much that...

Well, I've already been the best mayor I've ever been.

Really?

Yeah, in a position like this, a lot of people can take you for granted.

But I think life's all about finding those people who'd never do that.

Like my Nigel

and you.

Thanks, Mayor.

Glad to help.

What would you say to dinner for the whole campaign team at the Yacht Club?

Table for two, then.

Exactly.

As the mayor and Georgie departed for a richly deserved slap-up feed, I remained behind with the exhausted funds.

I wondered why the people of Piffling could only express themselves politically when they were part of an angry mob.

Perhaps, in the long run, politicians get the voters they deserve.

Discuss.

The Race for Piffling was written by Tom Crowley and edited by David K.

Barnes and was performed by Felix Trench as Ruddyard, Beth Eyre as Antigone, Tom Crowley as Eric, Kiera Baxendale as Georgie, Sean Baker as Mare Desmond Desmond, Andy Seacombe as Reverend Wavering, Alana Ross as Jennifer Delacroix, Ellie Dickens as Ms.

Scruple and Belinda Lang as Madeline, with additional voices by Holly Campbell and Pip Gladwin.

Original music composed by James Whittle.

The program was recorded at the Art Space Studios and was produced and directed by Andy Goddard and John Wakefield.

The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish.

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