PP: "To be honest, I’m a bit bloody pissed off at the moment."

QV: "Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that. What’s troubling you?"

PP: "It’s this bloody world we live in. It’s a bloody disgrace!"

QV: "Ah, I see. Yes, we do live in an age which seems somehow darker than all before it. The troubles in Iraq, on the Gaza Strip, and in Kashmir; the terrible human rights stories in Africa; the fear of terrorism; violent crime, poverty, and the seemingly irreversible moral decline of society. Yes, it’s all a bit depressing, isn’t it?"

PP: "What? I was talking about the bloody new Band Aid record. Disgraceful!"

QV: "Ah. Right. The new Band Aid record, where some of today’s biggest pop stars are joining together to record a third version of ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’. Surely this is a wonderful event, where stars give their free time to make a great pop song, and the proceeds of the sales go to a very worthy charitable cause. What could be wrong with it?"

PP: "What could be wrong with it? It’s a bloody earache, that song. It was written by that leftie weirdo from the Auld Sod and some weirdo with facial hair, for a start."

QV: "Bob Geldof and Midge Ure?"

PP: "Pair of poofs, I say. Never trust any man who wears earrings."

QV: "Yes, well Peter, if we can..."

PP: "Musically, it’s a blatant rip-off of the ‘Doctor Who’ theme tune, but my old pal Ron Grainer received not one sodding penny of royalties. I often wondered why he never sued them."

QV: "Is is perhaps because he died four years before the original Band Aid record was released?"

PP: "It’s because he was too much of a gentleman. He was probably at home, listening to the wireless and hearing his music being used to sell charity to young kids. His heart would have been broken, let me tell you. Bloody pop stars, with their cocaine and their big trousers, they’ve got no respect for their elders and betters."

QV: "What about the lyrics to ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’? Surely you find the sentiments admirable, and the imagery rather moving?"

PP: "Moving? Moving? Have you bloody listened to them? ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ - well of course, they bloody don’t, they’re not Christians over there, are they. And what about that line, ‘There won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas’ - there’s a bloody famine going on, for Christ’s sake, so of course there won’t be any ruddy snow out there. In fact, I don’t think it ever snows south of the equator, does it? And as for ‘feed the world’, well, to me, charity begins at home. There’s too much bloody snow at Christmas in this country, and old dears in the North get frozen to death on their bloody toilets. That’s the problem these young drug addicts should be singing about."

QV: "Well, thank you Peter, and that brings us... finally... onto our first question of the week, which has come in an e-mail from Anthony of Greater London. He wants to know, ‘as a former star of the show, what do you think of the new Doctor Who logo?’"

PP: "Bloody good question from the young lad there. Now I saw this last week on some internet site that my son was looking at, and initially, I couldn’t believe my bloody eyes. I was flabbergasted that the BBC could possibly entertain the idea of replacing the wonderful diamond logo that we all love to bloody bits with this weird, orange monstrosity. It’s like replacing the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes - cultural bloody imperialism from those bloody Yanks, it’s everywhere I lay my hat, and I’m not afraid to say this: If that bloody logo isn’t changed, I won’t be watching the new Doctor Who, and I won’t be letting my wife watch it either. That’ll show these jumped up young trendies."

QV: "It certainly will. Now, earlier this week, we heard the sad news that veteran Radio One DJ John Peel had passed away at the age of 65. Mat, from East Anglia, wants to know your feelings on this, and whether the two of you were ever friends?"

PP: "Friends? We were more like bloody brothers, mate. Peely and me went all the way back to 1967, when he interviewed me for Radio London, the pirate station he worked on. He was trying to get a bit of respectability for the station, so he thought that getting a television icon on was no end of a coup for them."

QV: "We can actually hear a brief excerpt from that interview now, I think."

PP: Great mates, great times. I’m gonna miss him like bloody mad. He was family to me."

QV: "Thank you, Peter. And finally, we have a question, quite appropriately, via SMS, from Dave of Shrewsbury, who wants to know what kind of mobile phone you have."

PP: "I am delighted and proud to say that I am one of the few people in this fair isle that doesn’t own a mobile phone. Bloody terrible things, they are. You can’t turn around without seeing somebody walking down the street talking to themselves, or writing out these sex messages. And then there’s the bloody radiation coming from them. Did you know that a five minute chat on a mobile phone is the equivalent of sticking your head into a microwave oven for an hour and a half? They’re turning our kids’ brains into radioactive mush, and...."

(Text message alert sounds)

QV: "Oh, sorry about that, it must be a message from... Oh, no. It’s not mine."

PP: "Well, it’s obviously not mine. Whatever you’re talking about."

QV: "Peter, that was the sound of a mobile phone beeping. It wasn’t mine, and you’re the only other person here. So it must be yours."

PP: "Don’t be a bloody loon - I haven’t got one."

(A mobile phone starts ringing)

QV: "I suppose that isn’t yours either."

PP: "Certainly bloody not. I mean... Well, bloody hell.... you know.... Er... Look, just hang on a minute will you? Hello? Look for Christ’s sake, I told you never to bloody call me at work. Well I don’t know where it is, do I? For the love of Jesus, woman, can’t you accept my word? I never touched the bloody thing. You’re going to what? No, there’s no need to look in the bloody garage because it won’t be in there. Don’t open that garage door. I forbid you to open that door. Don’t go into the garage. I utterly forbid you, as your husband, to enter the... don’t look on the workbench. There’s nothing to see on the.... well, I don’t know how it bloody got there. It was probably the dog took it in there. How could it what? Well, it might have unlocked it, it’s a bloody pedigree after all. It’s ready for Cruft’s next year, so why couldn’t it.... No of course it wasn’t me. Don’t take that tone with... don’t bloody hang up. I forbid you to hang up the.... hello? Hello?"

QV: "Peter, I think that just about..."

PP: "Bloody woman."

QV: "Peter Purves, thank you very..."

PP: "Doubting her husband’s word."

QV: "We’ll be back..."

PP: "I only borrowed it, anyway."

QV: "Goodnight."