Love this podcast. Support this show through the supporter feature from ACAST. It's up to you how much you give and there's no regular commitment. Just hit the link in the show description to support now. Welcome to Ambridge on the couch, an in-depth look at the archers with me, Jeff Thomas, Lucy Freeman, Matt Rodriguez-Pain, James Everett and Harriet Carmichael.

Now, before we make a start on your emails, let's have a recap of what happened this week in Ambridge.

This week was brought to you by the sound of humming appliances. It was like being in a comet showroom half the week. Mick was obviously champing at the bit to get out of Bridge Farm and having considered the phone box the roof of Gay Graebles on the back of the car. He managed to wrangle a house sit at home farm while the Gills were in Aspen. I reckon the gills had no idea.

Mick was planning to swan about in their house, wearing their bathrobes,

messing about with the boiling water tap and having sex on the worktop of the Albion.

It didn't entirely go to plan initially as Mick and Joy ended up freezing their arces off,

looking after a bearded dragon that had eaten the remote that controlled the entire house.

Joy was frightened by the robot Hoover, baffled by the lack of books and sat miserably getting takeaway pizza all over one of the spare room duvets. Clary popped up in the bilge farm tea room, sounding perkyer that she has for ages. She was wearing her new t-shirt that had ha-ha-ha- ha on the front and not me this time on the back.

It wasn't a great return, to be honest.

First of all, Alistair was the only person in the tea room and he ordered a bilge farm latte,

which is two parts espresso to one part sannics.

This was swiftly followed by Natasha breezing in and announcing that rather than allowing the two pensioners who'd spent the last week cleaning up poop to have a few days off, she was redeploying them.

Susan was going to be retiling the barn roof.

And because, as Natasha so tactfully put it, Clary was old, she was going to be doing some baking.

She got cracking on a lemon dettle cake, then went for a stroll and was presented with the terrific news that they hadn't cleaned up enough poop and needed to do some more.

Celia Sparrow then popped up, chirping away about using the excess milk. It was very enjoyable,

hearing Helen having her ass handed to her, as Celia's acidity was certainly undiluted.

Helen was tittering like a first year in a six-form common room as we had to listen to her, as Celia's acidity was certainly undiluted. Helen was tittering like a first year

in a six-form common room as we had to listen to her sample cheese for 15 minutes and grope for

adjectives, which deteriorated as she went along. Hazelnutty, gulky, creamy, fishy, cheesy.

Khalil, our resident underage, Dr. D dool, spotted Constanza had cut herself and although they

claimed she was expressing herself by spitting, it sounded very much to me as if Constanza

...