Blackadder staple cast: Rowan Atkinson as Edmund Blackadder; Tony Robinson as Baldrick; Hugh Laurie as Edward VIII; Helen Atkinson-Wood as Mrs Miggins; Miranda Richardson as Amy Fletcher

Creative consultant: Jake Collins

I initially discussed my ideas for an abdication series with ChatGPT, which helped me think of about half the episode concepts and had the idea of alliterative titles.

Please imagine a 1930s swing version of the theme tune!

Blackadder was sitting at his desk, behind a mountain of paperwork, while Baldrick sat at his own, empty desk fiddling noisily with a binder clip.

'Baldrick!' said Blackadder, looking up sharply. 'Don't you have any work to be getting on with?'

'No, Mr Blackadder,' said Baldrick. 'Now that the King's decided to abdicate, there's no point, is there?'

Blackadder frowned. 'No point?'

'No, none,' said Baldrick, 'since he's not going to be king anymore. It'd be sort of like filling up the tank in your motor car when you're going to sell it the next day, wouldn't it?'

'Baldrick,' said Blackadder, 'we have on our hands a national crisis that requires extremely careful handling. I'm up to my neck in it. And really, what's it all for?'

'For love,' said Baldrick.

'Oh, poppycock,' said Blackadder, bending his head back down towards his paperwork. 'The King isn't really in love. He's only doing it because he can't think of anything to say for the Christmas broadcast.'

'You have no romance in your soul, Mr Blackadder,' said Baldrick.

'Well spotted, Baldrick,' said Blackadder, not looking up.

'You might fall in love yourself some day, you know.'

'Baldrick, if you can't be helpful then at least be quiet.'

'And then,' Baldrick went on, oblivious, 'you'll want to tell the whole world, just like the King and Mrs Simpson.'

At this, Blackadder looked up again. 'The King is not telling the whole world about Mrs Simpson!'

'Isn't he?'

'No!'

'But the whole world'll have to know some time, won't it? I mean, they'll wonder why he's not king anymore.'

'Probably. But the longer we can put it off, the better, and whatever happens in the meantime, we cannot afford a leak.'

'Are you sure, Mr Blackadder?' said Baldrick. 'Leeks aren't that expensive. I've been saying for months how much we could save if we cut back on the asparagus.'

'Baldrick,' said Blackadder, 'understand this: if the King's idiotic whim gets out now, I will tear up whichever sordid, gossipy publication gets the scoop and make you eat it. Is that clear?'

'What if it gets out on the wireless first?' asked Baldrick.

'Then I'll make you eat that,' said Blackadder. 'I'm deadly serious, Baldrick. You're not to talk about it to anybody, not even me. You never know who might be listening.'

He fixed Baldrick with a deadly stare across the room, which broke a moment later when Mrs Miggins came in with her tea trolley, saying, 'Tea up, Mr B!'

'Oh, hello, Mrs Miggins,' said Blackadder, turning back to his work and not noticing at first that she had brought a companion. This was a young woman with short, un-styled hair and a rather shapeless slipover dress with a polka dot pattern. When Blackadder glanced up and saw her, he did a double take, then said dryly, 'At last, Mrs Miggins, I see you no longer have to carry alone the heavy burden of pouring tea.'

Mrs Miggins turned round and smiled reassuringly at the woman. 'Don't mind Mr Blackadder, Amy. He's under a lot of stress at the moment, what with the –'

'Er – Mrs Miggins,' Blackadder said significantly.

'Oh, don't be silly, Mr Blackadder,' said Mrs Miggins, as her new assistant began pouring out two cups of tea. 'It's only Amy.'

'Of course, how silly of me,' said Blackadder. 'Obviously it's quite acceptable to discuss confidential palace business in front of this perfect stranger. Prudent, even!'

'Oh, don't worry about me,' said Amy, in syrupy sweet tones. 'I don't hear anything except how people like their tea, and which biscuit they want with it. How do you take yours, Mr Blackadder?'

'A dash of milk and no sugar,' said Blackadder, now almost entirely focused on his paperwork again.

'You're sweet enough already, I'm sure,' said Amy, as she poured in the dash of milk. 'And your biccy?'

Blackadder looked up, clearly wondering if he had heard her correctly. 'I don't have time for biscuits.'

'Now, Mr Blackadder,' said Amy, 'that's no way to talk. A nice biccy will help you keep your strength up.' She reached for the tin of Huntley and Palmers. 'How about a lovely wafer?'

'No, thank you.' He bent his head again.

'Oh, look at this one!' She picked a biscuit out of the tin. 'It's shaped like a crown, and we're in the palace! Now, you must want a crown biccy.'

Blackadder fixed her with a scathing look, which he held for a long time. Finally he said, 'If it'll get you to shut up.'

Mrs Miggins was shocked. 'Mr Blackadder!'

'Never mind, Mrs Miggins,' said Amy, as she took Blackadder his tea with the crown biscuit on the saucer. 'Just as long as we can keep these clever boys' strength up, that's all that matters. Now, what's your name?' she asked, turning to Baldrick with a big smile on her face.

Baldrick gave her a gooey smile in return. 'Baldrick.'

'And how do you take your tea, Mr Baldrick?'

'Whatever you think best, Miss Amy.'

Rolling his eyes, Blackadder went back to his paperwork, saying, 'There's only one "clever boy" in here, young woman, and he's got an awful lot of work to do, so if you could hurry up...'

'There,' said Amy, finishing Baldrick's cup of tea, 'a drop of milk and two sugars, though I'm sure you're sweet enough already, too.'

Baldrick's smile became soppier.

'And how about this biccy?' Amy went on, pulling another biscuit out of the tin. 'It's shaped like a nice pretty flower, look!'

'Yes please,' giggled Baldrick.

Blackadder could not help looking up with disapproval. Mrs Miggins shot him a smile, as if to invite praise of Amy; Blackadder scowled and bent back to his paperwork.

'Well, Mrs Miggins,' said Amy, turning away from Baldrick's desk, 'we'd better leave these busy boys alone now, hadn't we? Unless there's anything else we can do to help? You look snowed under, Mr Blackadder!'

'Yes, indeed,' said Blackadder. 'So much so that all lines of communication have been cut off,' and he took up his pen with an air of finality.

'We'd better go now, dear,' Mrs Miggins said to Amy. 'Mr Blackadder really is extremely busy at the moment, what with –'

'Mrs Miggins, for the love of God!' cried Blackadder.

'All right, Mr Blackadder, all right!' said Mrs Miggins, taking hold of the handle of her trolley. 'We'll be back later for your cups. Cheerio!'

'Bye, Mrs M,' said Baldrick. Then, soppily, 'Bye, Miss Amy.'

'Baldrick,' said Blackadder, as the door closed on the tea trolley, 'are you trying to make me throw up?'

'I'm only being friendly, Mr Blackadder,' said Baldrick. 'She's nice.'

'She's nauseating.'

'Someone like her inspires a person's confidence.'

'Hmm...' Blackadder looked up, frowning. 'She certainly seemed to inspire Mrs Miggins' confidence, didn't she?' He paused for a moment, then put down his pen and got decidedly to his feet. 'I'm going after them, Baldrick. I have to make sure that, like you, everyone else around here understands the importance of maintaining a newspaper- and wireless-free diet.'

Amy was in the King's sitting room with the tea trolley; Mrs Miggins was not with them. The King was sitting on one of the sofas, with Amy leaning over him and brandishing the Huntley and Palmers tin.

'Another biccy, Your Majesty?' she said.

'It's awfully good of you,' said the King, still swallowing (with some difficulty) the end of his previous biscuit, 'but no. I've had plenty, thank you.'

'Not even another crown?'

'Oh, no, really I –'

'But it's the very last crown, Your Majesty, and you are the king. It would be silly not to have just that last one, wouldn't it?'

'Well, I, um... yes, all right then.' The King reluctantly took the biscuit, bit off a small piece and chewed slowly. 'Mmm, wuvwy. Fank oo.'

'And another cup of tea?' said Amy.

'Well...'

'Another cup of Amy's lovely, hot, milky tea?'

'It's awfully decent of you, really,' said the King, 'but I'm starting to get a bit full. I must have just about polished off all those biscuits.'

'Just the crowns, Your Majesty,' said Amy, smiling. 'Now that they're in your tummy, they'll help you to cope with all the horrid, difficult affairs of state you have to deal with.'

The King blinked in bewildered surprise. 'Do you really think so?'

'Oh, yes, of course,' said Amy, helping herself to a seat on the opposite sofa. 'A nice cup of tea and a special biccy help make everything better, don't you think?'

'Well... yes, I suppose so.'

'After all, you have a very difficult job. Remember, Your Majesty, I'm always on hand to bring you a cup of tea and a biccy, but if there's anything else I can do for you, you must ask me.'

'Good heavens,' said the King. 'What, um... what sort of thing do you mean?'

'Any sort of thing, sire,' said Amy.

'Gosh. Well, that's awfully nice of you, but –'

'Your Mr Blackadder, for instance, is simply snowed under with paperwork. If you ever need anybody to proof-read, or anything like that, do ask me, Your Majesty. It would be quite safe; I'm much too silly to understand anything beyond making a nice cup of tea and handing it over with a biscuit and a big, cheery smile.'

'Are you really?' said the King. 'Well... it really is awfully decent of you, Miss, um...'

'Amy.'

'Yes, well... there is rather a lot to be getting on with at the moment, as it happens, but the best thing you can do is keep bringing us that tea. All right?'

'Oh yes, of course!' said Amy, jumping up and making a grab for the teapot.

The King looked sickened.

'Particularly stressful at the moment, is it, Your Majesty?' Amy said offhandedly, as she poured the tea.

'Well, yes,' said the King, 'but hopefully not for much longer.'

'Oh, no,' said Amy, now stirring the tea, 'hopefully not! Are you sure there's nothing else I can do to help?' As she said this, she leaned towards the King to hand him his tea with a big, inviting smile on her face.

'Well,' said the King, taking the tea but not drinking any, 'Blackadder says I'm not supposed to tell anyone...'

'Oh, I've met Mr Blackadder,' Amy said dismissively. 'He seems like an awful stick-in-the-mud.'

The King smiled a little. 'He does take things rather seriously, I must admit.'

'It can't hurt to unburden yourself to me, Your Majesty.'

'Well, I...'

The double doors burst open and Blackadder strode in.

'Ah, Blackadder!' said the King, smiling delightedly and putting his cup of tea down on the coffee table. 'We were just talking about you.'

'Oh yes?' said Blackadder, looking suspiciously at Amy.

'Yes,' said the King. 'Amy here was just saying how seriously you seem to take your work.'

'I certainly do, young woman,' said Blackadder, 'and I have to tell you that palace teas fall entirely under Mrs Miggins' jurisdiction. Did she send you up here?'

'Mr Blackadder,' said Amy, 'the poor, tired King must have all the tea and biccies he needs to keep him going.'

'That's a no, then,' said Blackadder. 'Get out.'

Amy looked affronted.

'I say, Blackadder,' said the King, 'there's no need to be quite so blunt. She's only giving me tea and biscuits, you know.'

'Really?' said Blackadder. 'And what has that to do with my dedication to my work?'

'Tea and biccies are fortifying, Mr Blackadder,' said Amy. 'You and I both have our part to play in looking after the King's interests, wouldn't you say?'

'She's a jolly decent sort, Blackadder,' said the King. 'She was offering more than just tea and biscuits before you came in, you know.'

Blackadder raised an eyebrow. 'Oh yes?'

'Yes, she was,' said the King. 'She said if there's anything I need help with, I only have to ask... thought I might need to unburden myself. I think Mrs Miggins has made a damn fine choice with this one; saint on Earth, she is.'

'Oh, Your Majesty, really!' said Amy, giggling bashfully.

'Well, Miss Amy,' said Blackadder, 'there really isn't much call for the work of saints in the palace. I suggest you turn your attention to something more worthy of you, such as curing leprosy. Or preferably catching it.'

Amy looked affronted, and made an indignant sound, before turning and marching from the room.

'Oh, she's left the tea trolley behind,' said the King, as the door closed behind her. 'Mrs Miggins won't like that.'

'Good,' said Blackadder. 'Perhaps she'll give her the sack.'

'Oh, come on, Blackadder.' The King got to his feet and pushed the tea trolley a little towards the door. 'She's a nice girl. And you really shouldn't talk to people like that, you know – it can make you come over as a bit rude.'

'Your Majesty,' said Blackadder, dismissive of this remark, 'you weren't really thinking of unburdening yourself to her, were you?'

'Well...' The King looked sheepish. 'Maybe a bit. I mean, dash it all, Blackadder,' he went on, pre-empting the inevitable response, 'it is burdensome, keeping it all a secret like this, and what's more it's damn silly.'

'Silly?' said Blackadder, horrified.

'Yes!' said the King. 'I'm in love! I want to tell the world!'

'The world will know soon enough, sire,' said Blackadder, 'and when it does, you'll wish it didn't.'

'No, I won't,' said the King. 'I just want to get on with it.'

'Your Majesty,' said Blackadder, 'we will make the announcement at the proper time, when everything is quite in order. When we have a strategy.'

'Well, as to that,' said the King, 'you've been promising me this strategy for weeks. How's it coming?'

'It's complicated, sire.'

'If I didn't know better, Blackadder, I'd think you were putting it off and hoping I'll change my mind in the meantime.'

Blackadder gave a rather self-conscious smile. 'What an absurd idea, Your Majesty.'

'Well, yes, of course,' said the King, dismissing his unworthy comment with a wave of his hand. 'But look here, there's no harm in confiding in a nice tea trolley girl, is there? I'd honestly feel better if I got some things off my chest.'

'Your Majesty,' said Blackadder, 'if you must confide in somebody, then it had better be me.'

The King gave him a puzzled look. 'Are you sure, Blackadder? The last time I tried talking to you about Wallis, you pretended to be sick into the magazine rack.'

'But that was only a joke, sire.'

'And when I asked if we couldn't hurry this abdication business up a bit, you said it could all be over in five minutes if I went and stood in front of the nearest train.'

'Did I really, sire?' said Blackadder. 'I didn't realise I was such a card.'

The King looked at Blackadder for a moment, clearly not knowing what to make of him. Then he went on, 'The truth is, Blackadder... and I hope you won't take offence... but the truth is, you don't always have a very inviting manner.'

'I see,' said Blackadder. 'And that Amy woman does, I take it?'

'Well,' said the King, 'yes... I think she does, in fact.'

'She's a stranger, sire,' said Blackadder. 'None of us can afford to confide in strangers. You do see that, Your Majesty?'

'Oh, well... yes, of course,' said the King. 'You know best, Blackadder. It was just a passing whim, really. Anyway, she's gone now, and I shouldn't think I'll get another chance to talk to her.'

'I'm not so sure about that,' said Blackadder. 'Now, if you'll excuse me...'

'Hold on a moment, Blackadder,' said the King.

Blackadder stopped and turned in the doorway.

'Is the offer to confide in you still open? I really do feel ready to burst with it all, you know,' and he fixed Blackadder with a plaintive look.

Blackadder smiled insincerely. 'If only I had the time, Your Majesty, but unfortunately I have a lorry load of paper clips arriving this morning. If you'll excuse me,' and he bowed himself out of the room.

In the office, Amy was leaning against Baldrick's desk and talking while he listened attentively.

'It must be a terrible strain on you, Mr Baldrick,' she was saying, 'being Mr Blackadder's secretary. I expect you have to carry an awful lot of the burden, don't you? Like a freight train chug-chugging along.'

Baldrick giggled.

'Perhaps I could help you,' Amy went on. 'We could tidy up some of those papers a bit, couldn't we?' and she began making her way towards Blackadder's desk.

Baldrick woke up a bit. 'Oh, I wouldn't do that, Miss Amy. Mr Blackadder won't like it if they get muddled up.'

'But, Mr Baldrick,' tittered Amy, 'they're already muddled up! I think he'd be much less cross and grumpy if he came back and found we'd organised all this for him, don't you? And it won't take long.'

'Won't it?' Baldrick asked doubtfully, looking over at Blackadder's mountain of paperwork.

'Not if we make a game of it,' said Amy. 'Let's pretend we're two little squirrels piling up our nuts for the winter.'

As she said this, the door opened and Blackadder strode in.

'Madam,' he said impressively, 'I will not tolerate vermin interfering with any "nuts" of mine.'

Amy looked round at him, then smiled rather less soppily than she had done hitherto. 'Something tells me you are a tough nut to crack, Mr Blackadder.'

'You left the tea trolley upstairs,' he said.

'Gosh, did I really?' Amy smiled at Baldrick, silly and soppy once again. 'What a naughty scatterbrain I am. I'd better go and get it, then. I'll be seeing you, Mr Baldrick... Mr Blackadder.'

'Not if I see you first,' said Blackadder, as she swept past him, and then he closed the door firmly behind her. 'Right.' He turned to Baldrick. 'What did you tell her, Baldrick?'

'I told her about my verrucas,' said Baldrick.

At this, Blackadder became suddenly less on edge, and his manner was offhand as he said, 'Oh yes? Anything else?'

'Maybe another one or two of my ailments,' said Baldrick. 'It's nice when somebody'll listen.'

'Anyone who's prepared to listen to your long list of disgusting ailments, Baldrick, has got to be treated with suspicion.'

'Oh. Is that all you've got to say about it, Mr Blackadder?'

'What do you mean?' Blackadder asked sharply.

'Well,' said Baldrick, 'I was expecting some clever remark about making her vomit or something.'

'That would hardly be appropriate, Baldrick,' said Blackadder, 'when it is she who is likely to make us vomit. She's as wet as the cod versus haddock water polo championships on a rainy day.'

'I think she's nice,' said Baldrick.

'And not only that,' Blackadder went on, 'she's as nosy as an elephant's nasal douche. What does she think she's doing, asking the King himself and his most important aides about their work?'

'Oh, Mr Blackadder,' Baldrick said reprovingly, 'she's only trying to be helpful.'

Blackadder, by now, was looking extremely suspicious. 'I don't like it, Baldrick. In fact, I have a little job for you. You're to find out all you can about that woman, and discover whether she has an ulterior motive.'

'Right-o, Mr Blackadder,' said Baldrick, rising to his feet.

'Hold on,' said Blackadder, halting Baldrick at the door. 'What do you think an ulterior motive is, Baldrick?'

'I'm not sure, Mr Blackadder,' said Baldrick, 'but it sounds like it should be pretty easy to spot.'

'Well, it won't be,' said Blackadder. 'Now, listen. I want you to find out about her background and see if you can uncover a reason why she might be sniffing around for information, all right?'

'Can do, Mr Blackadder,' Baldrick said confidently.

'You know these are dangerous times, Baldrick.'

'I understand, and I'll be on my guard.'

'Sit down, Baldrick,' said Blackadder (Baldrick obeyed), 'and wait for Mrs Miggins. I'm going to send her to talk to you. Find out all you can from her about that woman, and then follow the trail wherever it may lead you. Understand?'

'I won't let you down, Mr Blackadder,' said Baldrick.

'Yes...' Blackadder said doubtfully, as he left the room.

Mrs Miggins, Amy and the tea trolley were all together again, in the small kitchen that was their headquarters. Mrs Miggins was looking into the Huntley and Palmers tin, saying, 'My goodness, they have had an appetite today!'

'They've obviously got a lot on their minds, poor darlings,' said Amy, 'and if an extra biccy or two can help them through it, that's all to the good, I say.'

'Yes, I suppose so,' said Mrs Miggins, 'but we'll have to buy some more for tomorrow.'

'Not to worry, Mrs Miggins,' said Amy, and she stooped to open a cupboard. 'I brought an extra tin from home, just in case.' She pulled out another tin of Huntley and Palmers.

'Oh, my goodness!' Mrs Miggins was delighted. 'You are a good girl.'

'We could even finish off that old tin ourselves, couldn't we?' said Amy, cosying up to Mrs Miggins with a confidential air. 'And you can tell me all the gossip.'

'Well...' Mrs Miggins looked doubtful.

'Oh, come on now,' said Amy. 'I think we've earned it, don't you?'

Mrs Miggins thought about this for a moment, then smiled and said, 'I will admit, Amy, things around here have been a bit hectic since –'

'Mrs Miggins!' Blackadder burst in upon them. 'Baldrick wishes to see you.'

'Does he really?' said Mrs Miggins, greatly surprised. 'I wonder what for.'

'Perhaps you'd better go and find out,' said Blackadder.

'Well, I suppose I had,' said Mrs Miggins. Then, to Amy, 'Don't worry about Mr Blackadder, my dear – he's a big softie underneath, really. Cheerio!'

Mrs Miggins left the room, watched with deep disapproval by Blackadder, who then turned back to Amy and said, 'Don't you believe it. I'm as ruthless as a lion who's been starved by the Romans for weeks on end, and then thrust into the arena without having been given a chance to brush his mane or go to the lavatory. I eat people like you for breakfast, Saint Amy.'

Amy smiled seductively and leaned back against the kitchen worktop. 'St Amy became a nun in answer to her aunt's prayers that she turn away from a life of vanity and materialism. I'm no saint, Mr Blackadder.'

Blackadder raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'No? Then what are you? I've been wondering all morning. A vomit-inducing antidote to some sort of poison, perhaps?'

'I'm just a woman,' said Amy, 'who's trying to make a living.'

'By plying important men with tea and biscuits,' said Blackadder, 'and then washing it down with an extra gallon of syrup?'

Amy laughed at herself, apparently a little embarrassed. 'Mrs Miggins seems to like it, and she's the one my livelihood depends on. But I think you prefer a different kind of woman, don't you, Mr Blackadder?'

'I prefer the kind that doesn't make me vomit, certainly,' said Blackadder.

'The real me won't make you vomit,' said Amy. 'I'd like to think I could relieve you of some bodily fluid...' She smiled again. 'But never vomit.'

Blackadder's eyebrow rose again, this time with suavity. 'Well, well. You're just full of surprises.'

'Mmm... you don't know the half of it. Perhaps you'd let me surprise you some more, over lunch. Unless, of course, you're chained to your desk for the lunch hour as well.'

'Usually... but perhaps, today, I can make an exception. Are you free in, say, ten minutes' time?'

'For you, Mr Blackadder...'

'Edmund.'

'Edmund,' Amy said suggestively, 'I'm free all afternoon.'

'I fear not, madam,' said Blackadder. 'The tea trolley goes round again at four.'

'Forget the tea trolley!' said Amy, in a burst of passion, taking her weight off the worktop and stepping towards him. 'I'm sick of the sight of it. And while we're at it,' taking another step, 'let's forget lunch as well, shall we?'

Blackadder looked evenly at her for a moment, then said agreeably, 'Yes, all right.'