CHRIS: When you gloom so dark you chewing cherries, you slaver, chin tomato tongue and talking drabby drooge...
When dance with waif, and whirlden be too fast, and smash and snap and break in hands beauty. Now you crumple low, while vitriolics stole you whimpering rump...
And when light switch be your only friend - and okay, friends are fine, but Christ, don't stand all day and night, no break for lunch, and flick your friend 'til fingers throbbing, blisters leak and contact voltage smack you brain like squashball, EC tee hee hee...
Then welcome.
Ma, oo zim pulzwa welcome, in Blue Jam (echoes)
JASON: Um, my name's Jason Laz. I'm a freelance photographer, and I keep tropical fish. And I like to get in with the fish whenever I can. They're quite safe. And Mel here helps me to get in... Just...
MEL: Okay, I've got you...
JASON: Right...
MEL: Careful...
JASON: And then... sit down...
MEL: You've spilt some fish, Jez...
JASON: It's quite fiddly, because the tank's only a foot wide, and three foot long.
MEL: Couple more there.
JASON: Use the net.
MEL: I think you've squashed one now.
JASON: Oh, yes. Unusual fish. So I'm sitting down, and...
MEL: Its guts are coming out of its mouth.
JASON: And... there's not much water left, actually.
MEL: There's quite a lot of squashed ones.
JASON: Oh, Mel, I've just cracked the heater.
MEL: Oh...
JASON: Ah... I'm getting quite bad shocks all along my left side.
MEL: You've cracked the glass as well.
JASON: I don't do this very often, because we have to get quite a lot of new fish.
MEL: This one's coming apart.
JASON: There we go. RIght. Thanks, Mel. Oh dear. I've got quite a long gash here, from the glass.
MEL: This one's had it.
JASON: Well, they're quite weak animals. Um, have you got a plaster, please, Mel?
MEL: It's still breathing.
JASON: As I say, it's nice to get in with them once in a while.
MEL: Oh, no, I broke it.
JASON: Yes, well, they're really very weak fish.
MEL: It's all on my fingers.
JASON: Oh, is it a flimsy one?
MEL: ...
JASON: I'm losing quite a lot of blood. I really am starting to feel quite woozy.
JASON: I really am starting to feel quite woozy.
SECURITY GUARD: Well, basically they managed to fool all of us on the security system. There was two of us on duty, and, um, we were looking at the screens, and we saw them come in, but we thought they wouldn't be a problem, because they didn't look like thieves. It was a simple as that. They were disguised as rapists.
MARTINUE: Could I have one ticket, please?
SUZANNE: Eight pounds fifteen.
MARTINUE: Um, the sort that lets me into the cages, please.
SUZANNE: Sorry?
MARTINUE: The sort that lets me into the cages, please.
SUZANNE: There's no such thing.
MARTINUE: I've made an arrangement with the management.
SUZANNE: I haven't heard anything about it.
MARTINUE: They said I could do it for 450 pounds?
SUZANNE: Well, we don't do that.
MARTINUE: They should have left you a note.
SUZANNE: Well, they didn't leave me a note.
MARTINUE: Could you ask them, please?
SUZANNE: I suppose...
MARTINUE: Thank you.
SUZANNE:(dials) Hello, it's main entrance here. Yes, it's Suzanne.
FATHER: Excuse me? Are you going to be a long time?
MOTHER: Stop hogging the kiosk!
MARTINUE: I'm not hogging the kiosk.
MOTHER: Well you are, actually!
MARTINUE: I'm trying to buy a very important ticket.
MOTHER: We've all got important tickets to buy!
MARTINUE: Mine's a special one.
FATHER: Excuse me, can I get past this man, please?
MARTINUE: I have a right to buy my special ticket!
MANAGER: Um, hello sir, can I help?
MARTINUE: And who might you be?
MANAGER: I'm the customer manager; I gather you want a special ticket?
MARTINUE: That's right, I've arranged it with the seniors.
MANAGER: Do you remember a name?
MARTINUE: Er, no, I don't believe in names very much.
MANAGER: I see. And what... what was the arrangement?
MARTINUE: That I can pay a cash sum of 450 pounds and be allowed in any of the cages.
MANAGER: And may I ask why, Mr..?
MARTINUE: Martinue. In so much as I believe in names.
MANAGER: May I ask why, Mr Martinue?
MARTINUE: I want to lie down with a lion and not wake up again. Maybe prostrate myself in the rhino trench.
MOTHER: Jesus..!
SUZANNE: He's trying to get in the cages with the animals...
MANAGER: Well, I'm sorry, sir, I don't think that kind of arrangement is being made.
MARTINUE: I dressed especially for it!
MANAGER: I'm sorry, sir, I think it would be best if you leave.
MARTINUE: I'm not leaving.
MOTHER: Look, I've got my kids here!
FATHER: Yeah, we don't want the children to see you getting all...
MOTHER: It's disgusting!
MARTINUE: It's not disgusting.
MOTHER: It bloody is!
MARTINUE: Leave me alone.
MOTHER: Then don't you... keep upsetting everybody...
MARTINUE: Bloody... bloody people.
MANAGER: All right, sir, I think...
MOTHER: Just leave your sickness at home!
MARTINUE: It's not my sickness.
MOTHER: It bloody is.
MANAGER: Sir...
MARTINUE: It's your sickness.
MANAGER: All right, sir...
MARTINUE: You're the ones that make me want to do it.
FATHER: You need a doctor, mate.
MANAGER: I think you should leave now....
MARTINUE: I've got more money!
MANAGER: Come on, this way, sir... that's it...
MARTINUE: No, I-I'll give you eight thousand pounds!
MANAGER: What?
MARTINUE: Eight thousand pounds!
MANAGER: Eh?
MARTINUE: For you to let me go inside an animal place.
MANAGER: Can I see the money?
MARTINUE: Yes.
MANAGER: Er, in here, please... just come through...
MARTINUE: There it is. All notes. Bloody bastards.
MANAGER: Right. Well, I'll be on my lunch break in ten minutes. You can do what you want. There is a chance you may be rescued; I can't do anything about that, but if you want to, off you go.
MARTINUE: Thanks.
MANAGER: Don't thank me, mate.
MARTINUE: No, you're a bit of a... bloody bastard as well.
MANAGER: Go on.
MARTINUE: But I'm very happy with the way I'm going.
MANAGER: Please, out.
MARTINUE: ...The rhinos.
MANAGER: Outside.
MARTINUE: The rhinos or the lions.
MANAGER: ...What?
MARTINUE: The rhinos are winning today. They shall feel my jam between their toes. Mm.
MANAGER: Goodbye...
MOTHER: Weird sicko!
FATHER: Yeah.
MARTINUE: Bloody bastards.
MOTHER: Oh, just go home!
MARTINUE: Amateur.
MICHAEL ALEXANDER ST JOHN: Surrounded by screaming sick children, Kevin Greening farts like a sax, and laughs to see the air full of chemotherapy wigs and bald children.
DR PERLIN: Come in.
MAN: Hello, Doctor.
DR PERLIN: Ah, yes. Do end up sitting down.
MAN: Thank you.
DR PERLIN: Now, what seems to be the problem?
MAN: Er, I've got a rash on my arms.
DR PERLIN: Yes?
MAN: It's extremely itchy; it's like a prickly heat.
DR PERLIN: Right, let's have a look.
MAN: Um, I thought it might be my washing powder.
DR PERLIN: Mm, quite red.
MAN: Irritants in the powder...
DR PERLIN: Roll it up a bit more.
MAN: ...
DR PERLIN: Yes, thought so. Right, I'm afraid you and me are going to have to have a bit of a fight. Stand up.
MAN: Wh..? Fight?
DR PERLIN: Yep. Desk away for this sort of thing. Come on, up you get.
MAN: Wh-what do you mean, fight? Ow!
DR PERLIN: Right, that's it, come on. Come on and get it, you sad prick!
MAN: Just... w-what the hell are...
DR PERLIN: Yeah, come on, you drippy great girl!
MAN: Right, get off me, get off me!
DR PERLIN: Agghh... right, you..!
MAN: Uh! Uh! Unhh-unhh-unhh-unhh..!
DR PERLIN: I'm winning! I'm winning! You're losing, aren't you?
MAN: ...I don't bloody understand..!
DR PERLIN: This is my best result in weeks!
MAN: Leave me alone!
DR PERLIN: Alison's got to see this! (dials) Alison? Michael. Have you got a minute?
MAN: Right!
DR PERLIN: Ow! You can't fight me when I'm on the phone! Sorry, Alison, the wanker's trying to cheat! Hey, not from behind! Alison, he's cheating!
MAN: Why are you doing this!? Why!?
DR PERLIN: AH! AH! Ouch! ...Alison!
DR BASINGSTOKE: ...Oh my god!
DR PERLIN: I was winning! I was winning until he started cheating!
DR BASINGSTOKE: Stop it.
DR PERLIN: It looks like I'm losing now, but I was bouncing on his chest! He didn't have a chance!
DR BASINGSTOKE: Stop it now!
DR PERLIN: But I was winning! I was winning.
DR BASINGSTOKE: Mr Pash, I'm really very sorry. Please just wait in reception, and I'll be out in a moment.
MAN: ... (leaves) DR PERLIN: Alison, he bloody cheated. He bloody bashed me while I was on the phone ringing for a ref.
DR BASINGSTOKE: Shut up and come here.
DR PERLIN: Oh, no, Alison...
DR BASINGSTOKE: Trousers down.
DR PERLIN: Please..!
DR BASINGSTOKE: You bloody jerk. Stupid (whack) little (whack) man! (whack) DR PERLIN: Unh!
DR BASINGSTOKE: Now sit down at your desk and think about what the fuck you're going to say to Mr Pash. (leaves) DR PERLIN: Bloody hell... Oi! Alison! You didn't see how it started, did you!? He hit me! With a metal thing! Had it in his jacket. You didn't look in his jacket, did you!? ...Bloody cheat! Cheats always win... I'm going to cheat next time...
VOICE: Radio One.
SYNTHESISED: I can see Steve Lamacq
HIGH VOICE: Lamacq.
SYNTHESISED: As a frail old man in a wheelchair
VOICE: Huh!
SYNTHESISED: Trying to shake hands with an elephant.
(simian laughter)
TAFFY: Sometimes we go and have a smoke by the old Bovril ad.
MIKE: Used to meet, er, Lenny the Goth up there.
TAFFY: 'Til we found out he was just a puppet.
LES: ...Look. I'm looking through my nose! I can't see anything.
TAFFY: Sometimes we play Ten Man's Tryout.
MIKE: Yeah, it's fuckin' ace.
(ting, ting, ting) LES: Who's got the tryout?
(ting) TAFFY: What?
LES: Who's got it?
(ting) LES: Heh heh. I have! Ha ha ha!
(ting) MIKE: Have you?
(ting, ting, ting) LES: Yeah!
MIKE: No! Where is it?
(ting) LES: Er...
(ting) MIKE: Which one's no?
TAFFY: Wait a minute... what's that?
(ting) MIKE: Where's the bloody tryout gone?
(ting, ting) MIKE: Played it since we were kids. I still don't know who's got the tryout.
TAFFY: Have any accolades today, Mikey?
MIKE: No.
LES: Yes!
MIKE: No you haven't, Les.
LES: Oh, no. ...Yes I have!
MIKE: Don't be daft.
LES: ...No. ...Oh yes..! Oh, no. Er... which one's... no?
MIKE: Shut up, Les.
TAFFY: Don't get many accolades now. But a few years ago, a big one came down here.
MIKE: Big Plymouth fuzz on the front.
TAFFY: And as it trundled off, it got smaller. MIKE: That's how it got through the door of the pub.
TAFFY: Went straight through the bar, and out of the back.
MIKE: By that time, it was only the size of a Strepsil.
LES: So Simple Evans ate it.
MIKE: He died immediately of a broken kick.
LES: Over by the, the crisp packet there, that's where, er, Loud Bob had his garage!
TAFFY: You'd send in your car for a service; he'd send your car back the next day with a shirt.
MIKE: But that went out of fashion about ten years ago, didn't it?
TAFFY: Everybody had a shirt on their car when the Dallas mob came along.
MIKE: Oh, whole cast of Dallas, they come here looking for their birthplace.
LES: One of them cut his thumb off with a piece of freight, ha ha ha!
MIKE: A while after, a car with a shirt on wasn't trendy at all.
TAFFY: No. That's why Loud Bob ended up with a chimney market.
MIKE: Loads of chimneys in it. Lovely old chimneys. Wet and dry chimneys.
TAFFY: He'd keep the wet ones outside. And the dry ones.
MIKE: Loud Bob bought thirty one day.
LES: Why does a hill go up?
MIKE: I went up to his yard to have a look, and... Bob was clambering about, and he just stepped off a little one. Only about three foot tall, it was, but it was from the top of a tall factory chimney, and he'd forgot to remove the impact, see.
TAFFY: So he jumps down three foot, and the ground hits him like the front of a train.
MIKE: I got a bit of him stuck in my teeth! I was gawping, you know.
LES: Did we forget to build our house again?
TAFFY: Who's coming up to the great barrel?
LES: Oh, no, there's bombing in there...
MIKE: Les...
TAFFY: He's scared of the great barrel, 'cause he thinks the Second World War's still going on in there.
LES: I heard it banging!
MIKE: Les!
LES: Can I ask you something, Mike?
MIKE: Yeah...
LES: If a zombie, right... if a zombie has wooden flooring... does they put it down themselves, or pay someone else to do it?
MIKE: Les, you are a prying little bollock.
TAFFY: ...Hey. Who's got the tryout?
LES: Heh heh heh.
MIKE: Who's got it?
LES: Heh heh.
MIKE: Is it...
(ting) TAFFY: What?
LES: Ha ha!
TAFFY: Where's it gone?
MIKE: Where is it?
(ting) TAFFY: Who's got it?
MIKE: Hear me out now; I don't know!
TAFFY: Have you got it?
LES: I haven't, I tell you!
TAFFY: Where is it, where's it gone?
(ting) MIKE: Where is it now, who's got it?
TAFFY: I don't know, where's it gone?
MIKE: No, you haven't got it! Les, you've got it now!
LES: I haven't!
(ting) MIKE: Well, where's it gone, then?
(ting) TAFFY: You've got it, give it back.
LES: I don't know where it is!
TAFFY: I don't know, bloody well..!
MIKE: Where's that bloody tryout gone!?
(ting) LES: I've got it!
MIKE: Have you got it?
(ting) MIKE: Give it back, you've got it!
LES: I'm not joking..!
MIKE: Well where is it then?
LES: I dunno! I don't know!
MIKE: Well if I haven't got it, you haven't got it and he hasn't got it, where is it!?
LES: I haven't got it!
MIKE: You haven't...
LES: And if I haven't got it...
(ting) MIKE: Where the bloody hell is it? I bet he's bloody got it all the time...
PETER: Jean?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Hello?
PETER: Could you get John Cooper for me?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Do you know his number?
PETER: I think it's something like 3456697, something like that.
JEAN (INTERCOM): Right.
PETER: Try a few numbers a bit like that.
JEAN (INTERCOM): ...Is it 3456679?
PETER: Mm, yeah, try that. It's quite urgent. I need John Martin as well.
JEAN (INTERCOM): What's he on?
PETER: Er, 2428878. Something like that.
JEAN (INTERCOM): 8878?
PETER: Just try all the numbers with a seven near the end.
JEAN (INTERCOM): Okay.
PETER:(dials) Ah, hello. Could I have Michael Degrais, please? ...Peter Shappel. ...Michael Degrais. ...He's the senior partner. ...Well, have you been working there long? I must say I don't recognise the voice. ...Oh, er, 2562324, something like that. ...Yeah, well, close enough. ...Look, for god's sake, it's only a number! ...Oh, come on, I've got better things to do than get pedantic about a 4. ...Look, I'm sorry if I got your number slightly wrong. Just don't throw up your nuts about it. ...Well, even if I have, you're still in Clarkenwell, aren't you? ...Right, well, instead of arguing like a spoilt girl, how about popping round the corner and giving them a message? ...Tsk. (hangs up) Jean?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Yes?
PETER: Any luck with those numbers?
JEAN (INTERCOM): No.
PETER: Oh, bloody piss. How long's the backlog?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Just under a thousand calls.
PETER: Oh... It's going to be another late finish. Do you mind?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Okay.
PETER: Thanks, Jean.
JEAN (INTERCOM): Do you want me to phone Alison?
PETER: No, I'd better do that. (dials) ...Oh, hello, love. Er... ...Alison? ...Oh. Is she there? ...Alison Shappel. ...Did she say when she'd be back? ...Oh. Er, who is this, by the way? Are you one of her friends? ...Well, may I ask what you're doing there? ...I'm pretty sure you don't. I'd have seen you in the morning or something. ...Er, yeah, er, 2120344. Something like that. ...Well, it got me through, didn't it? ...Mm, well, I guess, yeah. ...Well, if you do bump into her, could you tell her I'm going to have to spend another night in the office? ...Yep. Peter Shappel. ...Yep. If you see her. ...Thanks. Bye. (hangs up) Jean?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Yes?
PETER: Any luck?
JEAN (INTERCOM): No.
PETER: Oh, for god's sake... Could you call the phone engineers? We can't go on like this.
JEAN (INTERCOM): Right.
PETER: Tell them to cut off the lines. I think we can do without the phones, really, don't you?
JEAN (INTERCOM): Yes.
PETER: Good. Good, good, good, good, good...
JEAN (INTERCOM): Have you got the number?
PETER: Um... it's one of those thousand numbers, isn't it? We've tried it before.
JEAN (INTERCOM): Yes, we'd got up to 251 on the thousands.
PETER: Okay, well, you do 252 and the evens; I'll do the odds.
JEAN (INTERCOM): Okay.
PETER:(dials) ...Hello? We'd like to discontinue the phones, please. ...Oh. Right. Sorry. (hangs up, dials) Hallo, Cube Communications? ...Oh. Sorry to bother you. (hangs up, dials) Hello, Peter Shappel, of Shappel. Er, could you cut us off, please? ...Yes, could you cut us..? ...Hello? Oh... (hangs up, dials) Hello. You just cut me off! ...Peter Shappel. ...Well, I asked you to cut me off and you did, but... ...Well, I do want cutting off, yes, but... Hello? Hello!? Oh, bloody hell!
HER: Mm... oh. Ah... Oh, knock my tits out.
HIM: Yeah?
HER: Smack them round the back... yeah... oh!
HIM: They've gone round the back... tits round the back, yeah...
HER: Yeah, oh, oh...
HIM: Ooh...
HER: Oh... give to charity.
HIM: There you are. Ooh, there you are...
HER: More, more charity.
HIM: Ooh, I hope it helps... hope it helps...
HER: Huge donation!
HIM: Tax relief! M-hm-hm-hm! M-hm-hm-hm! M-hm-hm! Tax relief! M-hm-hm-hm! M-hm-hm-hm!
HER: Oh, now chuck the spade at the child.
HIM: Yeah?
HER: Yeah.
HIM: Yeah?
HER: Yeah!
(clong, wail) HER: Ohh..!
HIM: Oh!
HER: Oh!
HIM: Oh...
(wail) HER: Mm... ah... sell me a paper...
HIM: Yeah... STANDARD! STANDAARD!
HER: Yeah!
HIM: Yeah, piss my teeth out! Piss them out!
HER: Mm... aaaaaahhhhhh.
HIM: Ogph... upphh... ugmph...
HER: Oh, fucked up...
HIM: Fucked up...
HER: Ah, suck my little twin...
HIM: ...What?
HER: Suck my little twin...
HIM: Twin?
HER: Yeah, look...
HIM: Uh... Ack... agck...
HER: Suck him...
HIM: Agh ack... achk...
HER: Come on... he lives up my arse, with a snorkel...
HIM: Ack agck... achk...
HER: Please... please suck him...
HIM: Agchk... acgk ack...
HER: Ohh... oh, please, please suck him...
HIM: ...
HER:(sobs) You always make me cry... I hate you...
HIM: Ack... acghk...
DOCTOR: I'm sorry. There's no easy way to say this. Your condition really is very serious.
PATIENT: Wh..?
DOCTOR: You probably won't realise this at the moment... but you're in a coma.
PATIENT: A coma?
DOCTOR: Yes. We'll need to get you onto a life support machine at once.
DOCTOR (VO): My name is Martin Fawkes. I first diagnosed symptomless coma three years ago.
PATIENT: But it's just an earache...
DOCTOR: Very characteristic of the early stages.
PATIENT: But I mean... I can move...
DOCTOR (VO): And since then, the number of cases has been steadily increasing.
DOCTOR: Nurse, can you put a catheter in him, insert a naso-gastric tube and stand by with a largactyll, just in case?
DOCTOR (VO): Obviously, the parents have a lot of difficulty coming to terms with symptomeless coma.
MOTHER: Hello, love. Hello, Simon. How are you?
PATIENT: 'm... 'don't think 'm feeling bad...
FATHER: He doesn't look like they do does he?
MOTHER: He looks quite well. Are you quite well?
PATIENT: 'Think so...
DOCTOR: I'm afraid he's very wrong.
MOTHER: Oh, dear...
FATHER: All right, love. We've brought you some fruit and chocolate.
MOTHER: Yes.
PATIENT: Th'nks... 'm starving...
DOCTOR: I'm afraid he's only allowed nutrition through the tubes, Mrs Fellow.
MOTHER: Oh.
PATIENT: 'Think I'd like to get out, Mum...
MOTHER: You what?
PATIENT: I think I'd like to get out.
DOCTOR: He's asking us to leave him alone. They get very tired.
FATHER: Does he want to get out?
DOCTOR: No, he wants us to go, Mr Fellow.
PATIENT: Dad...
FATHER: Yes, son?
DOCTOR: I think we'd better go before he gets upset.
PATIENT: But...
FATHER: Couldn't we just...
DOCTOR: I'm afraid he's likely to become a fool to himself, Mr Fellow.
MOTHER: Oh, dear...
FATHER: Bye, son.
PATIENT: N...
MOTHER: Bye bye, love. Take care, son.
PATIENT: No..!
DOCTOR: Nurse, could you double the benzodiazapeme, please?
DOCTOR (VO): Time again, I've seen a healthy youngster...
DOCTOR: I'm just going to increase the dosage...
DOCTOR (VO): ...suffer rapid deterioration...
DOCTOR: Don't make this difficult for me...
DOCTOR (VO): ...almost from the very moment of diagnosis.
DOCTOR: Shut up.
PATIENT: Mmph...
DOCTOR: A nice bit of morphine...
DOCTOR (VO): And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
DOCTOR: ...just around the ribs here...
PATIENT: Uh! Unnh...
DOCTOR (VO): To have to watch a patient in an state of unavoidable decline runs against every instinct I have.
DOCTOR: ...and round the back of the neck...
PATIENT: Aggh! Uh!
DOCTOR: Oh... oh god...
DOCTOR (VO): When the dreadful day arrives, I try to make it as easy as possible for the family.
MOTHER: Can I kiss him, doctor?
DOCTOR: Yes. But very carefully. Yes.
FATHER: It's all right, love.
MOTHER: Bye-bye, love.
DOCTOR (VO): Even then, their hopes can be very unrealistic.
MOTHER: Oh, did he... did he feel that?
DOCTOR: No, I'm afraid he didn't. That was just a reaction.
MOTHER: But... he moved... I'm sure he felt something, didn't he?
DOCTOR: If he felt anything, I'm afraid it would only have been excruciating pain.
MOTHER: Oh...
FATHER: Listen to the doctor, love.
DOCTOR: I want to top up the morphine dose to stop him feeling any more.
DOCTOR (VO): But to watch someone's last chance drown in a sea of diamorphine can be too much even for me.
DOCTOR: Close the system.
MOTHER: ...
DOCTOR:(sobs) FATHER: Are you all right, Doctor?
DOCTOR (VO): I hope that one day there will be a cure. But until that day, more and more young people will die...
DOCTOR:(sobs) DOCTOR (VO): ...and I will have to do this job again... and again... and again...
DOCTOR:(sobs) DOCTOR (VO): ...and again...
DOCTOR:(sobs) Why!?
DOCTOR (VO): ...and again... and again... and again...
DOCTOR:(sobs) DOCTOR (VO): ...and again...
CHRIS: When you gloom so dark you chewing cherries, you slaver, chin tomato tongue and talking drabby drooge...
When dance with waif, and whirlden be too fast, and smash and snap and break in hands beauty. Now you crumple low, while vitriolics stole you whimpering rump...
And when light switch be your only friend - and okay, friends are fine, but Christ, don't stand all day and night, no break for lunch, and flick your friend 'til fingers throbbing, blisters leak and contact voltage smack you brain like squashball, EC tee hee hee...
Then welcome.
Ma, oo zim pulzwa welcome, in Blue Jam (echoes)