Comic Relief - Catherine Tate & David Tennant

...the one and only Miss Catherine Tate!

That's all we need is a double English.

English is wool dry.

I don't see what's so great about reading, anyway?

Nah, reading's for losers!

Ain't it, though?

At least we got a new teacher today.

Yeah, right, that'll be a laugh, won't it?

Morning.

Alright.

As I'm sure you're aware, my name is Mr Logan.

I'm your new English teacher. Nice to meet you all.

Hope you're all ready to get to grips with some Elizabethan literature.

Let's all turn to page 53 in our poetry textbooks, and we'll dive straight in with the Bard himself.

- Sir?
- Yeah?

Are you English, sir?

No, I'm Scottish.

So you ain't English then.

No. I'm British.

So you ain't English then.

No I'm not, but as you can see I do speak English.

But I can't understand what you're saying, sir.

Well, clearly, you can.

Sorry, are you talking Scottish now?

No, I'm talking English.

Right. Don't sound like it.

OK. Whatever you want.

Now, let's get on with Shakespeare.

I don't think you're qualified to teach us English.

I am perfectly qualified to teach English.

I don't think you are, though.

You don't have to be English to teach it.

Right. Have we got double English or double Scottish?

Is your name Lauren Cooper, by any chance?

Yeah. Why?

Your reputation proceeds you.

Don't it though?

So. Shakespeare's sonnets...

- Sir?
- A sonnet is a poem...

- Sir?
- ...written in fourteen lines...

- ...the last two of which...
- Sir?

- ... must form a rhyming couplet...
- Sir?

- Sir?
- Yes, Lauren!

Can I ask you a question?

Not just now.

Can I ask you a question now?

Just wait.

But can I ask you a question? I only wanna ask you a question.

Can't I ask you a question? I'm just asking you a question. Can't I ask you a question?

What is it?

Are you the Doctor?

Doctor Who?

I don't know what you're talking about.

You look like Doctor Who, though.

I'm not Doctor Who, I'm your English teacher.

I don't think you are, though.

Lauren...

I think you're a 945-year-old Time Lord.

Listen...

Did ya just pitch up from Mars?

Don't be ridiculous.

- You know your house, right?
- What?

You know your house?

Yeah...

Is it bigger on the inside?

Be quiet.

Did you park the TARDIS on a meter?

Can we please get back to Shakespeare!

Thank you!

So...

Do you fancy Billie Piper, sir?

You are the most insolent child I have ever had the misfortune to teach.

Thank you.

You're pointless, repetitious, and extremely dull.

Bit like Shakespeare.

You're not even worthy to mention his name.

William Shakespeare was a genius! You, little madam, are definitely not!

Now just sit there, keep your mouth shut, or I will fail you in this whole module right now!

Amist I bothered?

What?

Amist I bothered, for sooth?

Lauren...

Looketh at my face.

Stop it.

Ist this the bothered face that sits before thee?

Right. I'm calling your parents.

Are you disrespecting the house of Cooper?

Are thou calling my mother a pox-ridden wench?

Are thou calling my father a goodly rotten apple?

- He ain't even a goodly rotten apple.
- Listen to me.

But he ain't even a goodly rotten apple, though.

- That's enough. Lauren. Lauren.
- Faceth, my friend. Looketh.

- That's enough. Stop. Stop. Stop.
- My liege. My liege. My liege. My liege.

(in a mocking Scottish accent)
You take the high road and I'll take the low road.

I ain't even bothered.

Face. Bothered. Bothered face. Bothered. I ain't even bothered.

My liege, I be not bothered, for sooth, I be not bothered.

Face. Bother. I ain't even bothered. Face. Bother. Shakespeare. Sonnets. I ain't even bothered.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun.

Coral is far more red than her lips' red.

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses demasked, red and white.

But no such roses see I in her cheeks.

And in some perfume is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belies with false compare.

Bite me, alien boy!

{sonics her}

That's better.

A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

I still ain't bothered!