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Essentially, Oz and Hugh getting f*cking slaughtered in the midst of this village fete.
It's like a christmas version of The Wicker Man.
The grouse simulation.
I want to have all these drinks on Christmas Day.
Oz Clarke is essentially a tramp, it's like he's never eaten and all he wants is booze, his clothes are too big like they're hand outs and well, he's brilliant!
Sausage in his wine! :D
the forced banter between a pair that clearly didn't know each other was incredibly painful.
"Yeah, can you try for the same faux relationship that you had with James May"
All the Victorian stuff anyway.