I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan

by Alan Partridge

You know that phrase, if you love someone set them free? I’ve always liked the sound of that – even if its logic is plainly horseshit. It’s the equivalent of saying, ‘If you like beefburgers, don’t eat them’ or ‘If you hate London, go and live there.’

It wouldn’t do to have spent the entire show speaking like a quacking duck (which admittedly would be very funny) if I then had to read out an urgent newsflash about a dirty bomb going off in Wisbech.

‘If you’re standing, sit down. If you’re driving, pull over. And if you’re in a wheelchair, for god’s sake keep away from the top of the stairs.’

Plus, they didn’t come cheap. It’s not like biscuits grow on trees (note to self: possible film idea). You might think that buying a bag of broken bourbons from Norwich market doesn’t cost much, and you’d be right, but when it goes on for week after week after week, the financial burden can become pretty crippling.

Of course this was cobblers/fucking bullshit.