TV Review: Rab C Nesbitt – BBC2

Rab C Nesbitt BBC2

WAKING up in bed with Rab C Nesbitt cannot be a pleasant experience. I can only compare it to having an erotic dream about Ann Widdecombe.

Long-suffering wife Mary had certainly had enough of her tattered husband's tossing and turning. "It's that thing outside," he said, "lurking in the darkness. Ever since it came here it's been weaving its horrible magic on the unsuspecting folks of Govan."

The object of his ire was not Paul Daniels, but a phone mast.

"It has to go," said mate Jamesie. "It could have a serious effect on Govan reproduction – we could start breeding mutants." At which point the camera swept round the interior of The Giblet public house revealing that the problem had already started – several generations ago.

"Our health could be in peril as we speak," added Jamesie. "I'm away for a fag."

"The day after the mast went up I fell down unconscious in the street," said another hard-drinking local. "And what happened before the mast went up?" enquired Rab. "I fell down unconscious in the street."

Rab, as he's been prone to do down the years, was keen to get to the heart of the matter.

Was it the mast that was causing symptoms of illness or simply the ageing process?

Rab said: "Getting out of the bath without grunting is something for the likes of us. We don't know what's disease and what's lard-inflicted wear and tear."

Soon he was on the phone to the mobile phone company. "Which service do you require?" "Something that gives me some ******* to shout at."

Rab led a delegation from The Giblet for a head-to-head meeting with the company's head honcho. However, not everyone had his patience.

"That's enough talking Rab," interjected Jamesie. "Just give him a headbutt and we'll get back down the pub."

"As my colleague hints," said Rab, "I used not to be averse to negotiating by ramming my toecap up the odd pumper.

"But, in them days, I had a drink in me."

Indeed, the new sober Rab favoured a more peaceful protest to get rid of the mast, only to find that everyone had decided they were actually happy for it to stay, so long as they received compensation.

But Rab doesn't throw in the string vest so easily. "What the hell would I do with money at my age?" he asked. "It would spoil my cheery disposition."

As he fended off the rabid greed of his pals, it was discovered that everyone had lost their signal. The phone company had moved the mast to the other side of the river.

Just goes to show, Rab's a man of action. If Gordon Brown was watching his fellow Scotsman, expect him to turn up at the next Prime Minister's Questions in a suit jacket with a rip in the shoulder.