Guy Makes Your Home Better (Pilot One)

Bonus Guy needs a new podcasting gig. 

Transcript

Because Guy Snapdragon, who is I, is no longer an undercover intern, he is pivoting to something more lucrative creatively and financially. Over the next few months, you will have the opportunity to listen to some of his innovative pilot podcast episodes, at least one of which is going to be picked up and be globally successful with a mixed demographic audience willing to pay high subscription fees for quality podcast content. Today, we begin with a pilot home improvement show. [Pause] Just to be clear, this is not a show about pilots’ improved homes, but an episode produced for a potential podcast series, about improving any type of home. Occupants in these homes could actually be pilots, but that is not a pre-requisite.

Hello, and welcome to Episode One of ‘Guy Makes Your Home Better’ in which I, Guy, come into your house, take a look around, talk a bit, explain why it’s a home that needs improvement, and then get that home improved. And then talk about how fantastic the improvements are. Let’s go.

Today I’m walking towards a home, let’s have a look around. Oh my god, this is an absolute swear. I’ve never seen anything like this before. Have I gone back in time? Look at that wall. Yuck. Those carpet stains. Whoever lives here has no dignity whatsoever. Is that a DVD Player? I feel like I’m in a really crap museum, it’s all so horribly analogue in here. Is this the kitchen or the bathroom? Oh my god, they actually prepare food in here? I’ve seen it all now. It looks like they don’t have a dishwasher? Is that a tea-towel or a vagrant’s rag from the nineteenth century?  Crikey, let’s go upstairs, see if it’s any better. Do you smell cat piss? I’m going to call the RSPCA if there’s a cat living here. There’s only three rooms up here, two bedrooms. God, they must be so poor. This must be ex-council? You cannot call this the ‘master bedroom’, I wouldn’t let my servants sleep in a room this boxy. Can we just knock the whole place down and start again? Is that them in those photos? Oh, they look awful, misshapen, merely approaching human. I ain’t going in that bathroom, the shower curtains are gross, I’ll get a rash just stepping in there. Where’s the bidet? Is it possible to catch depression from a house? Have we ever had a challenge like this? This is impossible. If we succeed with this home, we are absolutely amazing.

We have just 72 hours and 20,000 pounds to Make This Home Better, because that is the concept for this home improvement show. Before we get started, let’s speak to the inhabitants, presuming they can string a sentence together.

I’m walking again, towards people this time! Let me just put my mask on, what with that awful Covid-19 pandemic and other communicable household diseases. I understand that you’re both teachers? [Yes, Sarah teaches History, and for my sins, I’m a maths teacher]. [Pause] Elaborate, please. [What do you mean?]. Well, say more words. [OK, I teach probability mainly, and mainly a level students, mainly the top-level. We both work at Gainsborough Comprehensive, around the corner.] You mean A-Level rather than ‘a level’ don’t you? Maybe you should let your wife speak, you are presumably more adept with numbers than words? [Pause] You have a sarcastic nod, sir. The lowest form of wit. Let’s try you instead. I understand that you’re pregnant, Sarah? Second trimester? Early third? [Pause] No, oh, sorry, my mistake. But you clearly appear to be wearing pregnancy clothing? Are you just practicing? [I’m not pregnant]. I hope you do have a baby. The softness of a baby’s skin is so delicate and smooth, and evokes feelings of tenderness. Have you ever touched a baby? Have you smelled one, just wonderful. Do you know what I mean? [Do you have any other questions?] That accent is strong, Sarah. When did you move into this house, and why is it like this? [We moved in in 2007, and I’m not sure I understand the second part of your question]. Well, I guess I mean, do you have other spending priorities, or does one of you has a gambling addiction which means that you’ve been unable to carry out basic upkeep and hygiene? [We’ve actually spent most of our money on IVF treatments, not that it’s any of your business]. It’s not working though? I’m sorry. IVF is a complete rip-off, right? It’s probably too late now, at least for you Sarah? May I ask where the problem rests, is it sperm mobility or inhospitable womb? Or a combination of the two, like a disabled giant trying to live in a tiny igloo, whilst being pelted with stones and not having good enough sperms. You don’t need to answer that. Sometimes God knows best, I suppose. There will be a good reason why you shouldn’t create life together. Maybe once we clean this place up a bit, God might allow it. He moves in mysterious ways, but definitely appreciates cleanliness, so they say… I’m actually beginning to think you don’t like me. Thoughts are funny, aren’t they, you can never be sure if you’re the only one having them. Can you intuit my thoughts? Are they seen? I sometimes think that I must literally smell of ennui. There’s no deodorant in the world that can assuage my thoughts, at times like this. Sarah, touch my head, don’t be shy. Can you feel my thoughts? [Pause].OK, let’s try and get at least some broadcastable content. Sarah, apart from replacing the shower curtains, what are your priorities over the next 72 hours? What should my team focus on? You’re not expecting miracles, are you? Do you still want the second bedroom to be a nursery, or should we be more realistic? I think we mainly just need to do a deep clean and odour neutralization, get you some rat-proof containers? [Sobbing].

OK, let’s get to manual work!

I’m walking towards you! Take a look at this! [Long pause]. Can you believe the improvement? Let’s look upstairs too. Come on everyone!

Marvelous. Walk with me. I should just say that I get carpets free from Carpet Culture because the CEO, Michael Pollard, is a close personal friend of mine, and that the 20,000 pound limit relates to revenue expenditures, not capital expenditures. And the 72 hours is something we sometimes need to be flexible with, especially with homes like this one. But even so, I feel amazing. Touch that wood, Sarah. That’s as fine as it gets, made from trees that have been stored in horses’ stomachs for at least five years. I’m lost for words [Longish pause]. No, honestly, I don’t know what to say. I am speechless. I can’t talk right now. Something mystical is happening to me. Leave me alone for a minute, please. Everyone, just get out!

Wow. Look at the smile on the sound man’s face. Sarah, go and touch his mouth, he doesn’t mind. Put your fingers inside if you like. Feel the wet joy of his tongue!

Let’s go and stand somewhere else in the house. Come on everyone!

I’m walking across a room! It smells of freshly baked bread in here, and we’re not even in the kitchen! Should we go in the kitchen? Come on everyone!

I’m walking towards a wall! Look at those tiles! Sarah, taste this bread, it’s freshly baked. Yeah, it has gluten in it. Surely a little bit won’t hurt? OK, I think after all this hard work we deserve something to eat. Let’s share some miso soup and at least break some bread together. Sarah, can you touch gluten? You don’t have to eat it. Umami is like that hush at sunset, when all the world’s flavors gather and settle into a quiet harmony. It isn’t sharp like bright laughter or piercing like the crackle of a fire; instead, it’s the warm embrace lingering in the shadows, a flicker in the lull between the sweet and the sharp. It’s the richness of leather, the softness of velvet, the steady calm of a well-worn armchair inviting you to rest. It’s the soul of a savory world, a gentle flavour that seems to fill every corner of the mind with deep, restful satisfaction. Feel it as warmth behind your eyes. Sense it as the soft weight of a loved one’s hand resting on your shoulder, signifying that all is well. It’s the final piece in a puzzle that makes the picture whole, the quiet resonance reminding you that you are safe, you are cared for, and you are home. I think I swear love the look, smell, taste and touch of miso soup. Umami me to heaven, baby!

I’m walking quicker this time! Sarah, come here and smell my finger. I have a sixth sense for these things. Are you picking up peppermint with a hint of violence? Yes, carpets on the kitchen wall is unorthodox, but it’s great for soundproofing in non-detached homes like this, and you’ll feel so much warmer in the winter. Let’s move again, to a different room! Come on everyone!

I’m sat in a chair this time! So, I have to ask, Sarah. Are you going to stay here, or are you going to move abroad, to Marbella in Spain. Home or away? English or Spanish? Pie or Paella? Warm beer or Sangria? Pounds or Euros? Showers or sunshine? Democracy or fascism? Football or bullfights? Brexit or… SpEUMembership? Eastenders or Eldorado? Jason Statham or Javier Bardem? I’m so nervous about your answer. This is so exciting. I care about this so much. What an exciting moment! [Pause] I suppose you’ll stay here, I’m getting confused about the premise. It helps if you talk your words out loud, Sarah, but don’t worry about it. Still, how could anybody not choose to live here after the miracle we’ve performed? Swear you, Spain. Shove your outdoor swimming pools and Flamenco dancing up your Spanish arse! Let’s get up on the roof! Come on everyone! [Music interlude]

I’m walking away from the house now! Well, even though Sarah and the maths teacher didn’t participate adequately, we have done brilliantly here. What a transformation. What a pilot show! Assuming this pilot is picked up by the BBC, we’ll be back next week with another home that I will make better. In the meanwhile, make your house more than a home. I’ve got an ice-cube in my hand and it’s so cold and smooth and wet. Listen to it melt with me!