The John Dredge Nothing To Do With Anything Show

With the light fading, this long-awaited series comes to its long-awaited end. We hope it has brought some fun and frivolity to your otherwise dank existence but, if it hasn't, may we suggest you complain to the BBC, as they've much more time on their hands than we have right now. While you dip your nib in green ink, why not listen with your lugholes as amateur hotel critic Peter Pilbeam ventures further afield than ever before, Farmer Collins offers more musical silage, and Eric Halibut pawns his own mother to pay for a subscription to Disney+. On behalf of the group, thank you so much for listening, and please feel safe in the knowledge that everything that can be done has been done. Rest assured that a book of the series is not available from Faber or Faber, or anywhere else, for that matter, and everything else has been destroyed in a controlled explosion. We're outta here.

Put on your boogie shoes and listen to this week's collection of lunatic skits and whatnot, or vice versa. Trilby hats are well to the fore, along with a giant aubergine and a cucumber sandwich or two, but all is not as it seems - or is it? Or, indeed, isn't it? Become a hit at parties simply by tuning in, identify the cast members and what sordid secrets the producers are holding against them in leverage to secure their participation, and that all-important gas cooker could be yours. Swing it, daddio!

Believe it or not, someone who purports to be 80s pop star Nik Kershaw makes a guest appearance in this week's fun-filled show, in which a jingle is played backwards. But what does he - or anyone else, for that matter - know about crockery belonging to Nobel prize winners? And can The Actor Greg Haiste complete his own joke before it's too late? Listen in wonder, bemusement and more than a little exasperation, as we bring you another genuine edition of the programme, partly made from old mattresses. God bless.

Why not walk around your garden while listening to this week's episode, part of which comes to you from a cupboard on the back lot at Universal Studios? If you don't have a garden of your own, why not walk around someone else's garden, such as the President of the United States. His security detail will be very happy to see you. Whilst you're perambulating, listen to this week's show, which features the latest hopeless opus from agricultural singer-songwriter Farmer Collins, a mention of Basil Rathbone of Rhyl, and some terrible guitar playing. We could tell you more, but we'd have to kill you.

In this week's jam-packed episode, which was constructed with the aid of a complex arrangement of ropes and pulleys, we take a sideways look at the week's biscuits. A Jammie Dodger from Tinseltown tells some tall tales and, due to circumstances beyond our Fig Roll, more of your letters and emails are given an airing in Dear Dredge, although sometimes we wonder why we bother. So don't be a Ginger Nut - clear the surrounding area and stand by with at least four cups of tea. It's going to be one Hell of a show!

Well, if it isn't the long-awaited return of our long-awaited show. If it isn't, we don't know what it is. If you happen to know, write to the usual address and you could win a clock radio. That's right, we've somehow managed to re-engage our cast of several to bring you a fresh set of Smurftastic sketches and sounds from the very epicentre of something, including a highly unentertaining quiz for schools, the puzzling reappearance of film director and weird man David Lynch, and more information about Leighton Buzzard than you can shake a stick at.

It's the last episode of this hugely inflatable series, which can only mean one thing: yes, it's the last episode of the series. Or is it? Yes, it is. And we end it all in style with a whole host of famous guests flown in from all over Melton Mowbray. But where are Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Grumpy, Grover and Muriel? Who is the mysterious 'Frank Muir?' And why is Planet Skaro closed for repair? Find out in this, the Year of the Mahogany Sideboard. And whatever the conclusion, we hope you've enjoyed whatever this has been. Thank you for your time and effort. And do remember to keep 'em peeled. They taste awful with the skin left on.

Well done for making it to Episode Five, where we count our chickens both before and after the return of agricultural icon Farmer Collins, just for good measure. Ralph Ploojagig doesn't make an appearance this week - or any other week, for that matter - but perhaps Sunday Brunch will take him under their wing and give him some hot broth or both. Also, part of this week's programme will be in color... but which one? And can you find the missing U in 'color'? Write it in the margin of your Radio Times before you start listening and you too could win a signed super deluxe edition of Larry the Lamb Lies Down on Broadway in this, the Year of the Aardvark.

This week John looks at the rising problem of cellophane. He also meets a man in the street who takes a dim view of electricity, along with a porcupine called Ronald who emits squeaking noises (the two may be related). Plus catch up with the show's free-falling producer Richard Cray as he spends a welcome break in hospital. Why not send him hard-boiled eggs or nuts, or some such? (The two may be related.) Yes, it's all here - but why? And should it really be somewhere else? Find out, if you can, in this, the Year of the Plinth.

Today's low, low budget episode is brought to you by Kludge, which now comes in a handy three-ounce tin. On the 'show', for want of a more apposite description, you'll hear details of how to join our fan club, which proudly boasts over three members, many of them still alive. We welcome David Lynch as himself, sadly, and there is entertainment of an unusual nature when Harold the Mad Pianist emerges from a vat of soup to play for both King and country in this, the Year of the Mungbean.