The F1 Files - The Truth Is Out There

A smartly dressed Danica Patrick enters and office room and takes a seat in front of a desk. Sat at the desk are Jean Todt, Bernie Ecclestone and Flavio Briatorie. Flavio is sit back from the others slightly, wearing sunglasses and smoking a cigarette.

JT: Miss Patrick. Thank you for coming.

DP: How could I resist. Mr Briatorie here tells me he has some kind of job he'd like me to do for him

BE: I'm sure he has!

*the three behind the desk snigger like school boys*

JT: Let me cut to the chase Miss Patrick, I know you have been over at the NASCAR bureua but have you heard of a project called 'The F1 Files'

DP: I have heard the name yes.

BE: and your understanding of it?

*Flavio lights another cigarette*

DP: My understand of it is that it was project set up to deal with the unexplained phenomen that happens within F1 and that it is mainly conducted by one certain ex F1 driver

BE: That driver being?

DP: One Heinz-Harald Fretzen

JT: Are you familiar with the driver in question?

DP: Not on a personal level but I am familar with his career history. He was brought into Formula One through the Mercedes programme which is where he developed a lasting rivialry with Agent Schumacher. He origanally took a place at Sauber and was regarded as an up and commer until.....

JT: Untill?

DP: Until he was given a placement at Williams - the biggest opperation at the time where its been said he 'dropped the ball' somewhat.

BE: whats your understanding of dropping the ball?

DP: Well the rumours are he was completely outclassed by a certain Jacques Villeneurve

*all three behind the desk turn to the left and spit at the mention of the name Villeneurve*

JT: The rumours you have heard are correct Miss Patrick. Do you know any of his history since?

DP: Just vaugley - he briefly returned to form in the yellow Jordan case of 99 before returning to Sauber and even doing some work at form station Arrows before dropping out of F1 all together. The suggestion is that he got increasingly obsessed with strange goings on in the pit lane. When I was in Formula Ford the other drivers had a nickname for him.

BE: Which was?

DP: Spooky Fretzen.

BE: oh. sorry. Was expecting something funnier than that.

DP: I was in Formula Ford when Anthony Davidson was there sir, and I was living in Milton Keynes at the time so that might account for it being so unoriginal

BE: People actually live in Milton Keynes!?!?

JT: People actually talk to Anthony Davidson!?!

DP: It would seem so sir

*Todt and Ecclestone turn and look at Briatorie who just shrugs and lights another cigarette*

JT: *ahem* well Miss Patrick the reason we've asked you here today is the we believe its time we brought Mr Fretzen in from the cold a little.

BE: We'd like you to assist him in his work and investigation whilst at the same time evaluating its usefulness and reporting back to us

JT: detailed reports Miss Patrick. Reports outlining whether the FIA should really be funding this work

*Patrick pauses and looks at Briatore who grins*

DP: I am to understand you would like me to....'debunk'.....the F1 files?

BE: debunk is not the word I would use - we would just like you to determine if they are worthwhile and if you conclude not then to terminate Agent Fretzen's investigations.

*Briatorie leans forward and offers Patrick a cigarette*

FB: terminate with extreme prejudice, understand?

*Patrick takes the cigarette her hand shaking*

DP: Loud and clear


(to be continued)

Danica Patrick starts to descend a staircase leading to a dark basement room in the FIA building. There is a dim light at the bottom coming from the room. Danica slowly puts her head round the door

DP: Hello?

HHF: Go Away! Theres no one down here but Germanys least remember F1 driver

DP: Mr Fretzen I've been assigned to assist you in your investigations

*Heinz-Harald Frentzen turns to face her looking disheveled and like he's not been home in weeks, he smiles before turning back to the desk he's sitting at where he's fiddling with a slide machine*

HHF: assist me? Why Miss Patrick I was under the impression you were here to spy on me!

DP: Spy on you? If you doubt my credentials.........

HHF: Oh I don't doubt your credentials, I've checked them out

*Fretzen vaugly points to a table behind him and Patrick looks to see a copy of the 2008 Sports Illustrated Swimwear edition open to her 4 page spread with suspicious white stains on it*

HHF: Yeah I had a real hard look at them last night

DP: My racing credentials Mr Fretzen

HHF: oh them! Well I saw you stall the car in the pits at Indianapolis

DP: Yeah well I saw you drive like a little wussy boy at Williams

HHF: Hmmmm. Well are you gonna stand their all day flirting with me or want to help me look into something.

*Patrick lets out a sigh and comes and stands next to the desk Fretzen is at*

DP: What are you looking at?

HHF: You tell me.

*Fretzen begins his slide show and skips quickly through pictures of Niki Lauda, Alain Prost, Ayrton Senna, Kimi Rakkonien etc*

HHF: What do you see?

DP: There all Mclaren drivers

HHF: Correct. Now look at their faces. What don't they have

*Patrick squints and looks closer*

DP: I don't know what I'm looking at

HHF: what don't they have?

*Patrick looks at Fretzen who rubs his chin at her*

DP: Beards! All of them are clean shaven

HHF: Correct. Mclaren have always had a strict policy that its drivers must be clean, neat and respectable in appearence. It goes back decades.

DP: So?

HHF: Well check this out

*Fretzen flicks to a picture of Jenson Button in a Mclaren uniform*

HHF: What do you see?

DP: a beard!

*Fretzen flicks to a picture of Lewis Hamilton in a Mclaren Uniform*

DP: a Gangster Beard!

*Fretzen flicks to a picture of Gary Parrfet*

DP: Designer Stubble!

HHF: Now you tell me. Why would an organsiation with such a clear policy for so long just let it slack off all of a sudden? Doesn't make sense does it?

DP: I agree its a bit odd but maybe management decided to lacks a little bit

HHF: At Mclaren? not likely! Anyway you haven't seen the other evidence

DP: which is?

*Fretzen flicks to a picture of Jenson Button in a Brawn uniform in 2009*

HHF: what do you see?

DP: Jenson Button in his championship winning year and......

HHF: .....a big beard!

*Fretzen flicks the projecter again to reveal a picture of Richard Branson*

DP: Branson?

HHF: Financial backer of the Brawn team for 2009

DP: and famous beard wearer

HHF: In 2010 Branson purchased a team called Manor racing who before he bought them had been granted a spot on the F1 grid without any of the finacial resources to be there.

DP: Now that is weird.

HHF: Not only that but look at the beards

*Fretzen flicks back and forth between the 2009 Jenson and the picture of Branson. Patrcik moves closer to the pictures looking harder*

DP: They're similar beards but I don't know what I'm getting at

HHF: They're not just similar beards Dancia. They are the same beard!

*Patrick stares at the pictures and then looks back at Fretzen*

DP: Thats crazy!

HHF: Come on Patrick! you're better than this. You tell me - would you be able to pick out which beard was which in a line up?

*Patrick sighs*

DP: So whats your theory?

HHF: Too early for me to share but I could do with a second pair of eyes and a favor to further it a long

DP: Why? Whats your next step

HHF: The beard trail leads here

*Fretzen clicks to the last slide and its a picture of the Mclaren Technology Centre*

HHF: I need to get in there

DP: You know I used to race Formula Ford with Jenson Button?

HHF: Really? you didn't happen to keep in touch with him? maybe as a pen pal?

DP: yes as a matter of fact but I haven't really had a letter off him since......

HHF: 2009?

*Patick turns to face Fretzen with her hands on her hips*

DP: you planned this didn't you? You knew I could get you in!

HHF: Like I said. I study your credentials hard.

DP: well I hope it didn't chaf!

HHF: Come on Patrick time for you to get me through some locked doors

**********************************To be continued************************************
Danica Patrick sits at her desk idley looking at a framed photo of herself and a young Jenson Button spraying John Button with champagne before picking up the phone and dialing a number.

Female Voice: Hello
DP: Hi can I speak to Jenson please?
Female Voice: Who's speaking?
DP: My name is Danica Patrick, I'm an old friend of his.
Female Voice: (whispers) I bet you are.....(back to normal) Oh hi Danica its Jessica
DP: Jessica, Hi.
JM: Its lovely to finally speak to you. Jenson has told me so much about you and his Formula Ford days
DP: He has?
JM: Well not Jenson more John
DP: oh
JM: and only when he's drunk
DP: oh
JM: and I usually don't hear most of it because I'm a lady and shouldn't listen to language like that
DP: ahum - anyways Jess is Jenson around?
JM: Yes he was just thinking about spacing;

There is a pause as Jessica passes the phone to Jenson - you hear Jenson tell Jessica that a 'cup of tea would be amazing'

JB: Hello?
DP: Hi Jenson its Danica
JB: Dancia....ermmm......hi
DP: Long time no speak
JB: Yeah sorry I've been kind of busy ya know plotting Lewis Hamilton's downfall and all that
DP: Yeah so I hear. Listen Jenson I need a favour
JB: Danica you can;t just make a booty call to my home after 3 years!
DP: Thats not what this is
JB: oh (sounding dissapointed) - well what do you want? coz my dads not here.
DP: Do you know about my new job?
JB: what job?
DP: I'm working for the FIA board of investigation
JB: Oh (sounding nervous) - what do you want with me?
DP: Well firstly I need to get into the Mclaren Technology Centre
JB: Ron won't like that
DP: and secondly I need you to trust an old friend and tell me what you're mixed up in
JB (sighs).....I can't talk here.
DP: then where can you talk?
JB (talking quietly) somewhere safe...listen are you still at the same address?
DP: yes
JB (whispering now) Martin has started up a guided tour of the Mclaren Technology Centre for tourists. Its very selective but I can get you on it......then i can speak to you afterwards.
DP: thanks Jenson
JB: i've got to go

The Phone goes dead. Dancia looks thoughtful. She dials another number and you hear the voice of Heinz-Harold Frentzen on the other end of the phone:

HHF: Hello?
DP: We're in!
HHF: excellent


Inside The Mclaren Technology Centre Danica Patrick and Heinz Harold Fretzen are amongst a small group of lucky individuals about to be take on a tour of the Mclaren Technology Centre. The tour its self is being led by Oliver Turvey.

OT: Hello there you lucky few. I see your all the competition winners from a website called.....Clip The that correct? Great well for those of you who don't know I'm Oliver Turvey and I'm fourtunate enough to be a test driver here at Mclaren - basically if Lewis and Jenson are sick I'm in the race long as Gary Parfeet, Adrian Sutil, robert Kubica, Rubens Barrichello, Nick Heidfeld, our cleaner, and Ron Dennis are all sick too! In fact Martin Whitmarsh has promised that as a reward for doing this tour I'll actually get to sit in this years car! Anyways - are their any questions before we start?

*everyone but Patrick and Fretzen puts there hands up*

Brogan: Will we get to see the magnifcant MP4/10 on the tour? and if so can we do the 'I'm not as fat as Nigel Mansell test?'
RoB: Can I see Jenson?
Gethinceri: Sut dod Red Bull wedi cicio eich ass ar gyfer y 2 flynedd ddiwethaf?
RoB: ooooo actually can I meet Ron?
F1-Ang: Where does Lewis take a shower?
Keke The King: I have a long list of stats that may help you where do I submit them?
TBY: This isn't as good as the Williams tour
Jen: Can I tell you about my chair.........

*the questions continue as Fretzen leans over to whisper in Patricks ear*

HHF: Ok you stay with the geek tour and I'll slip away and have a look round
DP: What if you get caught?
HHF: I won't!
DP: Why have I got to stay?
HHF: because if the glamour model dissapears people will notice
DP: fair enough

*Frentzen sneaks off down the corridor and starts to look around, in the background you can hear Oliver Turvey explaing to the tour how the air vent system has been precisouly angled and set by Ron himself for maximum cooling effect. Fretzen eventually reaches a door marked private but slightly ajar, he slowly creep inside as he does so the door creeks and he hears someone jump up from under a desk and bang his head*

male voice: Ouch! Who's there?

*Fretzen turns to see Lewis Hamilton wearing Skateboard baggy shorts and a 'Senna is da best' T-shirt rubbing his head where he'd banged it*

HHF: Lewis! Hi. I'm Heinz-Harold Fretzen
LH: Oh. The guy who invented the beans right? I love your beans. My dad used to cook them up in a big dish with sausages in and I used to eat loads......mainly because they made me fart loads and I love farting its funny.
HHF: No I'm not the guy who invented beans. I'm a race driver.
LH: A driver?.......(Lewis looks like he's about to cry) replacing me? I promised I'd be better this year and I've been really good and not even talked to that Felipe boy...please don't replace me
HHF: No I'm an Ex racing driver
LH: (looks relieved) ahhh so your dead then?
HHF: excuse me?
LH: well all ex F1 drivers are dead aren't they? I've been visited by quite a few. I would have expected you to have a blue glow round you like Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars but you just look like a tramp.
HHF: (confused) which dead F1 drivers have visited you
LH: Well the first one was Alain Prost but he did things I didn't like so thats why I've always been a Senna fan
HHF: things you didn't like?
LH: (looks worried) - if you had a teddy bear I'd show you
HHF: right! Any others?
LH: When I was 11 Ayrton Senna came to visit me and told me that I must make my Dad my manager and also eat my greens
HHF: You sure it was Senna?
LH: Senna is bold and black right?
HHF: ermmm......(things about telling him but can't do it).........yes Lewis, yes he is
LH: Anyways I guess your here to help me find the beard?
HHF: What beard?
LH: Jenson's magic beard! The one that made him better than me!
HHF: So let me get this right you're in here looking for Jenson Button's beard?
LH: Well obviously it wasn't Jenson's to start was probably woven by pixies or something.
HHF: and you think having this beard will help you be a better driver?
LH: Yeah! I heard Martin talking on the phone saying the only reason he'd brought Jenson to Mclaren was to get possesion of that beard...something about it being the only thing to combat Adrian Newey.
HHF: and you think he hides it in here?
LH: Well its not on Jenson's face anymore so I thought he might have hid it in his office
HHF: But you can't find it?
LH: Well I found this in Jenson's cockpit

*Lewis holds up some tufts of curly hair that shine brightly gold. Fretzen takes them from him and looks at them in wonder*

LH: I found them in Jenson's cockpit after qualifying in Abu Dhabi and then stuck them to my chin come race day and I won! So now I need the whole thing in order to fufil my destiny
HHF: Destiny?
LH: yeah ya know - I'm the chosen one and I'm suppose to restore balance to Formula One
HHF: right. ermm... Lewis can I keep this for a while?
LH: sure! I mean hows a dead guy gonna beat me in a Grand Prix?
HHF: exactly
LH: Mr Fritter?...........Am I a jedi?
HHF: (getting into the star wars thing) a Jedi you are.
LH: am I our last hope?
HHF: (getting too into the Star Wars thing) no. There is another.
LH: (his eyes go wide and tears start falling) Another!?? but I'm the chosen one! I'm suppose to be the only hope! I hate you Heinz Beans Fritter you're mean!

*Lewis drops to the floor in a sulk and starts to stamp his feet whilst sticking his lip out. Fretzen goes to leave and switched the light out on his way leaving Lewis having a paddy in pitch black. Fretzen slips down the corridor and rejoins the back of the tour*

OT:........if you would just let me get a word in edgeways I'll be able to tell you that the Mclaren nose cone is not based on the features of any animal be it Platypuss, Dolphin or......
JosTheBoss:..........Velocier Raptor?
OT: no that would just be silly wouldn't it? The nose is based on the exact angle of Ron Dennis snozz which coincidently is also the muse on which the building itself was constructed........

*Patrick leans over to Fretzen*

DP: Find anything?
HHF: Yep. I found Lewis Hamilton
DP: and?
HHF: I left him in a very dark place.
DP: what?
HHF: Nothing - I'll tell you later - come on - lets get you a date with Jenson Button

Jenson Button sits at a streamline sleek Mclaren desk casually drinking a cup of tea in a sleek Mclaren F1 mug - he clicks open an e-mail we see as marked from Martin Whitmarsh. Jenson's eyes go wide as he's looking at the screen and he even cocks his head to one side

JB: Bloody hell Martin

A knock comes at the door

JB: Come in!

In walks Danica Patrick and Heinz-Harold Fretzen

JB: Danica!
DP: Jenson!

Jenson stands up and Patrick walks behind desk for a friendly hug. Patrick see the Computer screen over Jenson's shoulders and he eyes go wide

DP: What the.......
JB: Oh crap

Jenson quickly clicks off the open e-mail and shuts his PC down

DP: Was that....?
JB: Martin? yes
DP: and was that......?
JB: Real? I think so
DP: Really?
JB: Really
DP: wow.......huge!
JB: Yep - anyways! Lovely to see you! To what do I owe this pleasure?
DP: Well firstly have you met Heinz-Harald Fretzen?

Fretzen and Button shake hands

JB: Yes I think I have
HHF: (to Patrick) yes we've raced against each other in F1
JB: We did?
HHF: Yes for 4 seasons
JB: really?
HHF: I drove for Jordan
JB: (looks confused) wasn't that Ralf?
HHF: No - I also drove for Prost, Sauber and Arrows
JB: Now Prost is a driver not a team isn't he?
HHF: (get a bit angry) but he ran a team for a while.
JB: Don't see how that could be or it'd still be around theres no way Alain Prost could stuff a team he's running up
HHF: Well he did
JB: Ok if you say so
HHF: I do say so
JB: you're prob right - I tend not to remember those guys at the back you see
HHF: (aside To Patrick)...I think I better let you handle this one.........use your femine wiles
DP: I've already got as many buttons undone as I dare with something popping out!
HHF: Popping out might be good.

Patrick turns back to Jenson

DP: So Jenson what was it you wanted to talk about?
JB: Me? You called me remember
DP: But you said you'd meet somewhere we could talk
JB: yeah...ermmm.....I didn't want to get Jessica jealous
DP: really? didn't sound like that to me
JB: Well thats all it was - nothing to worry about here......I'm def not lying to cover up something sinister....honest!
DP: Right......Jenson has someone told you not to talk to us?
JB: No he didn't tell me not to talk to you.....I mean no, no one told me anything....I mean theres nothing to talk about.
DP: Jenson what happened to your beard?
JB: I think its time you guys left now if you don't mind....this is my place of work and I'm very busy!

Jenson sits down and shuffles papers on his desk

JB: I have some important reading to do so I must bid you adue

Jenson picks up a copy of The Incredible Hulks 1st issue Collectors Edition and hides his face behind it. Patrick and Fretzen exchange a look and leave the office. Out in the corridor they stop to talk to each other.

HHF: I told you something popping out might not have been a bad thing
DP: Shut it Fretzen - someone got to him and you know it.
HHF: You're right - seems to me the only way we're going to get to the bottom of this is by exploiting other ties close to Jenson
DP: I'm not sure I know him well enough who might he have passed this information on to?
HHF: How about him

Fretzen points down the corridor where standing with his back to them in a pink shirt peeing into a plant pot containing plastic flowers is John Button.

DP: Oh god!
HHF: Not quite.....(shouts)....hey John!

John Button turns around, zips his flys up and looks down the corridor at them

JohnB: Heinz-Harald Failure! always nice to see an old boy! How are you?
HHF: good thanks John
JohnB: Very good judging by the company you're keeping. Hello Sweetcheeks Patrick! been watching your indy career with interest - especially on the ovals - although I have to say I'd rather be taking your curves than see you take curves (laughs like Sid James).....(whispers to DP) about you come back to my 'office' and we party Formula Ford style?
DP: (freaked out) John. How lovely you remember me. I'm working at the moment otherwise that would be lovely.
JohnB: Well my office is the room marked "Ron's wine celler: Keep Out" if you change your mind! (turns to Fretzen) See ya Frtiz!

John Button strolls off. Fretzen turns to Patrick.

DP: A million times no!
HHF: You have before!
DP: that was different then....I was young......and.....he used to be a great man!
HHF: always been a wino as long as I've known him
DP: well I won't argue...its still a lead is worth that and I'm doubting theres anything in it anyway - Jenson is probably just a bit freaked out I've turned up like that
HHF: What if I could prove to you it would be a valuable lead? would you consider it?
DP: If it got my interest? Maybe
HHF: Well I can prove it
DP: How?
HHF: With this

Fretzen holds up the tuft of beard he got from Lewis Hamilton and it shines golden in the light

HHF: To the simulator room!

Danica Patrick and Heinz-Harald Fretzen walk into a shiney sterile looking room that is filled with computer gadgets that are arranged around what can only be the Mclaren simulator. Standing by the simulator with his hands on his hips looking blankely across the room with a cheesy smile on his face is Gary Paffett.

GP: Hi! I'm Gary Paffett! Famous Mclaren driver
HHF: Yes you are!
GP: You may know me from such places as the Abu Dhabi young drivers test and the Goodwood Festival of Speed!
HHF: No I know you as the guy that hangs around the Mclaren pit garage
GP: (still looking blankley ahead) This is the Mclaren simulator room and this (waves arm) is the Mclaren simulator!
HHF: (sarcasticly) ooooooooo
GP: (finally breaks) Do you mind? I've been given this important task as tour guide by big Martin and you're ruining it!
DP: he's very sorry
HHF: yes yes, please continue
GP: Thank you (goes back to cheesy mode). This highly sophisticated piece of equiptment simulates exactly what its like to be in an F1 car
HHF: How would you know?
GP: (ignoring him) the set up is exactly the same as the new Mclaren so that by using the simulator we can try out the new car on different setting. Obviously as it simulated an F1 car exactly it can only be driven by a peak condition F1 driver.......
HHF: and me
GP.....such as Mclaren's own Jenson Button and Lewis Hamilton......
HHF: and me
GP:......obviously with their busy schedule doing TV adverts Lewis and Jenson can't always be here which means Mclaren only have one member of staff fit and skilled enough to drive the simulator. Me!
HHF: or Pedro De La Rosa or Alex Wurx or whoevers passing on the day!
GP: Look who the hell are you?
HHF: I'm Heinz-Harald Fretzen, I've raced in 160 Grand Prixs with 3 wins, 18 podiums and 6 fastest laps!
GP: (laughing) Listen Fritz - this ain't no micky mouse outfit like Jordan - you couldn't handle this equiptment!
HHF: Not only can I handle it I can beat you're fastest time in one attempt
GP (laughs louder) You're on! This is gonna be good!

Paffett starts to get ready the simulator and Fretzen turns to Patrick taking the beard tuft out of his pocket

DP: You really going through with this matcho nonsene?
HHF: Yeah why?
DP: Because you'll lose. You've not been in an F1 car in 8 years
HHF: Yeah but I have this (Fretzen holds up the beard tuft
DP: What is that?
HHF: A piece of the answer
DP: Looks like pubes to me
HHF: If I prove to you its not and theres something to this you'll do whatever you can to get the info from John Button?
DP: Deal

Paffett walks back over

GP: you ready Mr Big Shot?
HHF: Its Mr Fretzen actually and....hang on....(sticks beard tuft on to his chin with cellotape) I'm ready.

Fretzen straps himself into the simulator and sets off on a qualifying run of Silverstone, he's driving is almost effortless and he seems to be finding the grip and perfect lines on every piece of track as his lap goes on Patrick's eyes get wider whilst Paffett looks more and more upset. Fretzen comes over the line and the words "new record" flash over the simulator scheme.

GP: NO! how can you be quicker than me? How come everyone is quicker than me? Oh god my Mum was right I am never going to be in F1 and I should have taken that jobb doing home delieverys for Tesco...oh god!

Paffett collapses to the floor crying and curls into a ball. Fretzen and Patrick look at him, shrug their shoulds and turn to leave.

DP: That was amazing!
HHF: Thank you!
DP: The fact that just having those tuft of hair attached to your face can make a driver with such little skill as yourself so perfect
HHF: yeah.......hang on little skill?
DP: Yeah, even a driving aid needs a driver to be good first but with this! It turned an driver who was 8 years out of shape and had never been very good anyways into a world class contender
HHF: Well I know it was good but I was a world conenter once!
DP: No no lets be honest you're a washed up failiure who was beaten by Jacques Villerneurve and you attach that and your a world beater......thats incredible...thats amazing....thats.....
HHF: worth looking into?
DP: For sure
HHF: even if that mean......John Button

Patrick Pauses

DP: Sometimes a lady just has to man up!
The camera pans round a shabby looking bedroom and focuses on a poster on the wall the poster reads "USF1 - I Believe!". The camera pans down on to a double bed with Arrows bedsheets - laying asleep in the bed is Heinz-Harald Fretzen cuddled up with a cuddly Nigel Mansell doll. The phone rings and he stirs and without opening his eyes reaches over and puts the phone to his ear:

HHF: Yeah?
Caller: We know about the time you set in the Team Vodaphone McLaren Mercedes simulator today and how you got to be so charged with rapidity.
HHF: (sitting up) Who is this?
Caller: Who i am doesn't matter. what matters is that you might find yourself being used as combustible propulsion liquid for the novel high speed vehicular conveyance if you pass on any of what you know and try to link it to Team Vodaphone McLaren Mercedes
HHF: This is Ron Dennis isn't it?
Caller: (puts on a deeper voice) this certainly isn't the highly respected by the pinnacle of motorsport team principal Ronald Dennis
HHF: You certainly sound like him
Caller: ha! well there you go you see. i'm trying to put on a fake voice so you don't know who this is so if I sound like Ronald Dennis then its all part of my sinster plan to confuse you!
HHF: Either that or your crap at fake voices
Caller: Shut up and listen to me. keep quiet about the beard or i'll bring the whole formula one world down on you!
Caller: (forgetting to do fake voice) You mean you will?
HHF: No!

*Fretzen slams the phone down and settles back down to sleep. The Phone rings again*

HHF: Ron! I know its you!
DP: Fretzen? Is that you?
HHF: Patrick? What are you doing here?
DP: I need to talk to you right away
HHF: I'll buzz you in

*Fretzen presses button and audiable buzz and undoing of a lock is heard. He gets out of his bed and is wearing only bright yellow Jordan boxer shorts - he walks to the door and puts on a sleek black Sauber dressing gown that has the name Peter written above the pocket - Danica Patrick enters the room looking slightly flushed with her hair all ruffled and clutching a thick folder*

HHF: Whats so important?
DP: This!

*Patrick shoves the folder into Fretzen's hand - he flicks it open to the first page to read the heading of "beard backfile"*

DP: Its Mclaren's dossier on all they know concerning the beard - as you'd expect its detailed
HF: How did you get John Button to give you this?
DP: (Danica looks away) - I can be very pursuasive sometimes..............and on a completely unrelated topic I really need to use your shower.
HHF: (smiling) sure - its through there and theres clean towels too
DP: Thanks
HHF: Oh and that thing that looks like a webcam isn't really a webcam - its a novelty soap thats been made to look like a webcam.....honest.

* Patrick sticks her head round the door and glares at him. Fretzen shrugs and starts flicking through the folder. The sound of water running is heard as Patrick obviously switches on the shower*

HHF: (shouting through the door) So give us the lowdown then
DP: (shouting over the running water) Well John's always had a thing for the flying helmet and the stick of celery so I put them on and.......
HHF: I meant the lowdown on the file!
DP: Oh! Well your were right about Branson and Brawn
HHF: They gave the beard to Jenson?
DP: Yep right before the start of the 2009 season
HHF: So how did he end up at Mclaren?
DP: Jenson got scared when Mercedes tried to buy into it
HHF: Mercedes are aware of it?
DP: Yep big time - thats why they did the deal with Brawn but Jenson ran scared and needed to hide somewhere that could keep him safe and without turning red there was only one place he could go
HHF: Mclaren!
DP: Much to the annoyance of Mercedes who had just turned their back on them. Mclaren have been tracking the beard for years and were more than happy to give Jenson assylum. They've been pretending to Merc they have no clue about it.
HHF: Makes sense - I guess if they harness the beard they won't need Merc anyways
DP: I'm guessing thats why Merc brought in Agent Schumacher to try counter-act it
HHF: Please don't use language like that in my house please!
DP: Sorry Heinz
HHF: nah its ok I have to get over it one day

*Phone rings*

HHF: Danica my phone is ringing! its probably Ron Dennis. I'll tell him to sod off
DP: Ok

*Fretzen chucks the folder on to his coffee table and walks to the other room where his phone is and picks it up*

HHF: Hello?
caller: (broad Italian accent) Hello! I am an Italiano and I is extemley sad thata there isa no Italins ona the F1 grida. Firsta timea dis as appened since 1970. Isa nota my fault though. I blame that commy Putin and thea lack ofa power steering in the Cateeraham. tis a sad. Nowa only joba I cana get is distracting youa witha phone call whilst my bossa sets fire to your flat
HHF: What?
caller: My boss isa setting fire to your flat
HHF: Right now?
caller: Cie - I ama distracting you
HHF: (smells burning in the air) SHIT!!!

*Fretzen runs back into the other room to see most of the room ablaze in flame*

HHF: Patrick! Get out here!

*Patrick comes out the bathroom wrapped in a big pink towel - another towel is wrapped around her head*

DP: What the hell!?!?
HHF: I think you were followed - I need get that folder!
DP: Don't be stupid Fretzen the whole place is on fire we have to get out! (she grabs Fretzen's arm)
HHF: (attempting to pull away) that folder is the first thread to proving I was right about why I failed in F1
DP: Is it worth your life?
HHF: better dead than smeg
DP: Live to fight another day Fretzen - its not over
HHF: So bloomin sensible Patrick anyone would think you liked me
DP: Not a chance I just need you to show me the fire escape
HHF: Come on this way!

*Fretzen lead Patrick out the fire escape door*

The shot starts on a burnt out building still smouldering and being sprayed by firemen and pans out to see a crowd of people watching. At the front of the crowd stand Patrick wrapped only in a bath towel with another bath towel round her head and Frentzen dressed in a black Sauber dressing gown and giant frog faced slippers. The name Peter is written above the top pocket.

HHF: All the pictures and documents! Now no one will believe me
DP: I believe you Fretzen

The two exchange a look

HHF: That would make me feel a whole lot better if you weren't the crazy lady that just played hide the sausage with John Button

The two exchange another look but Patrick looks over Fretzen's shoulder that makes him turn round and they both see Bernie Ecclestone approaching.

BE: Heinz! What a terrible tragedy!

Jean Todt and Flavio Briatorie also appear and stand either side of Bernie. Flavio is carrying a rather large cannister marked petrol

BE: I just don't know how such a thing could happen!

Flavio lights a cigrette

BE: We'll put you up in a hotel of course just go easy on the pay per view porn eh?

All 3 turn to leave. Flavio holds Fretzen's gaze for a little longer whilst longer playing with his lighter. Jean Todt turns back at the last moment.

JT: Oh Patrick! We expect that report tomorrow!

Patrick and Fretzen watch them leave

HHF: What are you going to tell them?
DP: What do you expect me to tell them? I'm going to tell the truth
HHF: No good will come of it
DP: Oh come on! Ecclestone, Todt and Briatorie? could their be a more honest trio?


Back in the original office at the start Patrick is once again sitting opposite a desk with the trio of Ecclestone, Todt and Briatorie behind it. Ecclestone and Todt are looking through paperwork whilst Briatorie sits there smoking and staring at Patrick.

BE: Well Miss Patrick we've read your report and to be honest we're not please
JT: No your spelling and punctuation is awful!
BE: we're not pleased because its all conjecture. No evidence or facts
JT: and Y O U apostrophey R E is you are! Y O U R is your!
BE: Do you really believe what you've written? Do you have anything to back it up?
DP: Actually Sir. I do.

All three men look up shocked and Patrick pulls out a little glass bottle that contains the Button Beard hairs given to Frentzen by Lewis Hamilton and places it on the desk.

DP: This contains stray hairs from Jenson Button's beard. The same hairs Agent Fretzen used when driving the Mclaren simulator and smashing its record time.

Briatore snatches the bottle off the desk

FB: I'll take this for errr....further examination

The 3 men look at each other

BE: Thank you Agent Patrick. Stay on your current assignment until further notice

Ecclestone, Todt and Briatore stand up and leave the office. Briatore lets his gaze linger on Patrick for a short time.


Fretzen sits wearing a scruffy suite in his basement office flicking through pictures on his slide machine. Patrick walks in and Fretzen doesn't even turn his head.

HHF: How did it go?
DP: I'm not sure. They didn't believe me and when I presented the evidence they.....
HHF: Took it and ran off?
DP: Pretty much - told me to carry on with my current assignment
HHF: That means you get to hang out with me more. Lucky you!
DP:Yeah Lucky me!
HHF: I might not be good for your career!
DP: you can;t be as bad for it as NASCAR!
HHF: Now that is true!
DP: What you looking at?
HHF: The rise in Swiss drivers despite motorsport being banned in Switzerland
DP: Now that is a mystery!


Flavio Briatore is walking down a long dark corridor which is lined with filing cabinets. We see that one is marked "Is Senna Dead?" and another that read "Sakon Yamamoto's F1 career". Briatore stops at a cabinet and opens it. He takes the glass bottle containing Button's beard and places it in a draw. He shuts the draw and lights up a cigrette and the shot pans out to reveal filing cabinets as far as the eye can see in a massive warehouse.

The End! (or epsiode 1). I have ideas for more but not really sure whether they are wanted or not.
Episode 2 - Who Killed Jolyon Palmer?

Dreamy music plays as we centre on a view of a beutiful woodland area with a river running down in the valley below. An old man in a fishing hat comes into view hurriedly making his way up the hill. On closer inspection the old man turns out to be Murray Walker.

MW: Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!

Murray enters the doorway of a rather large house and runs to the phone

MW: Sheriffs office please! Sheriff! I found him. Wrapped in plastic!


Sheriif Michael Andretti standby the side of his police cruiser looking down on the scene in front of him. Deputy Barrichello stands next to him taking photgraphs. Down below Murray Walker waits next to a body shaped lump of plastic.

MW: Sheriff! I found him washed up this morning when I came down to fish. It was quite a shock
MA: I imagine so Murray. You touched the body at all?
MW: I'm a respectable older gentlemen Sheriff I don't know what you're suggesting!
MA: I meant the washed up body Murray!
MW: Oh! No. I thought I better wait for you.
MA: I better open this up then. Rubens get read with the camera!

The Sheriff moves down to the bosy closely followed by Walker and Barrichello. He pauses to look up at them and then pulls back the plastic to reveal the person dead body inside

MW: Jolyon Palmer! Oh God!

Rubens suddenly stops taking pictures and bursts into tears

MA: Rubens! We talked about this
RB: I'm sorry Sheriff! Its just so sad! Now he'll never get the chance to be in F1! He'll never get the chance to not drive in as many races as me! and he'll never get the chance to be booted out of F1 and replaced by a younger inferior model with more financial backing! its so sad!

Rubens cries a bit more

MA: Murray I'd appreciate it if you kept this quiet until the family were informed
MW: Of course Sheriff - may I ask who's job that is going to be
MA: I think that one has to fall to me Murray.


Sheriff Andretti's police cruiser pulls up outside the front of a huge country hotel. The sign quite clearly read "Ecclestone's Retreat Lodge". Andretti gets out the car, takes his sheriff's hat off and walks through the entrance into the lobby. Behind the help reception desk is a faceless Malyasian grid girl and the rest of the reception is empty apart from Tamara Ecclestone, dressed in a school skirt and blouse, lounging in the corner reading a book.

MA: Morning M'am. I'd like to speak to Dr Palmer if I could
FMGG: Just one moment sir

The grid girl dissapears into the back

TE: Anything wrong Sheriff?
MA: Official police business Miss Ecclestone
TE: Oh you can tell me!
MA: I'm afraid I can't Tamara
TE: Whatever (She goes back to her book pretending to be dis-interested)

Jonathan Palmer walks in from out the back dressed smartly in a business suit

JP: Sheriff? You wanted to see me?
MA: I'm afraid this is going to be hard for me to say Dr Palmer
JP: Why is it in chinese? You can speak English can't you? I know you're American but I can just about understand you. Spit it out
MA: Well we found a body in the river today
JP: Yes?
MA: Well I'm afraid....
JP: you're afraid? well frankly I think as a police sheriff you should have got over that by now and also I'm not sure what it has to do with me!
MA: It was Jolyon Dr Palmer. Jolyon was the body

Dr Palmer drops to his knees in tears and you can see Tamera Ecclestone slip out the hotel door

JP: Oh god not my Jolyon! not my Jolyon!


Sheriff Andretti and a broken looking Dr Palmer come out the hotel. Huddled in a corner waiting outside areTamera Ecclestone, Vicky Piria and James Caledo. Sheriff Andretti opens the back passenger door of his police cruiser for Dr Palmer who climbs inside still sobbing. He shuts the door after him and Vicky Piria runs up to him tears in her eyes.

VP: Is it true about Jolyon Sheriff?

Andretti takes her by the arm and guides her away from the car towards where Tamara and Caledo are

MA: I can't talk about police business Vicky. You know that.
VP: But Tamara overheard and this is Jolyon we're talking about!
MA: (looks downcast) I'm afraid its true Vicky. I'm sorry
VP: Oh god! (bursts into tears and falls into the arms of Caledo)

The Sheriff walks away from them all and gets out his walkie talkie

MA: Deputy Tracey are you their?
PT: (radio crackles) Yeah I'm here Michael
MA: Rubens bring you up to speed?
PT: Yeah after he stopped sobbing!
MA: I'm bringing Dr Palmer in to take a statement right now
PT: Michael theres something you need to know. I filed the report on the murder description through the system
MA: And?
PT: It came back flashing bells and warnings.
MA: Does that mean what I think it means?
PT: Yep - there someone from the F1I already on the way
MA: Who we got?
PT: Some guy named Fretzen. Heinz-Harald Fretzen.

Winding around the country roads is a small black avergae looking car, as we pan inside the car we see that the driver at the wheel is none other than Heinz-Harald Frentzen with an N. He's smiling and looking happier and lifts a small dictaphone up to his mouth and clicks the on button.

HHF: Dancia. I've made good time and am just half an hour away from Twin Peaks

*clicks dictaphone off. pauses. clicks dictaphone on*

HHF: By Twin Peaks I mean the town the murder took place in and wasn't making some sort of obscure reference to your breasts. I hope you got my message about the case I sent to Daytona. I assume you'll have crashed out on about lap 2 so you can join me here then.

*clicks dictaphone off. pauses. clicks dictaphone on*

HHF: I stopped at a little cafe on the way up here called "Red Neck's Surprise" and had a dish named "Back Door Sausage" which you really should try. I think you'll love it. Oh and remind me to find out what these trees are called! Gotta love these trees!


Back in the reception at the Ecclestone Retreat Lodge Bernie Ecclestone is laying down the law to some of his minions whilst Tamara still lounges around reading the book "Naked Lunch".

BE: whatever you do don't let them hear about this Palmer business. Stuff like that is bound to put them off the deal
Minion: Yes your Bernieness!
BE: and keep telling them how good we though Jan Magnussen was
Minion: I think he was Danish sir
BE: The which one was Norwegian? Rosberg?
Minion: I don't think theres been a Norwegian F1 driver sir!
BE: Really? then why do they want a Grand Prix?
Minion: Because you told them they did sir!
BE: Dam Straight! and don't let them forget it!

Bernie exits and Tamara comes up behind the Minion.

TE: Hi minion!
M: Oh! Hi Tamara
TE: So Daddy said not to mention the Palmer thing to the Norwegians?
M: ermmm yes!
TE: and the Norwegians are just through here?
M: ermmm yes....I don't think you should Tamara.....
TE: Oh don't be silly Minion! I'm just going to say hello!

Tamara unbuttons the top 2 buttons on her blouse and walks into the next room and some bluesy jazz music plays in the background. The room is full of Norwegain business men sat round with papers talking. Tamera starts to play act crying gradually getting her sobs louder and louder until all the Norwegian business men are looing at her.

NBM: Excuse me pretty girl but why are you crying?
TE: (sounding distressed) I'm sorry its just my close friend Jolyon Palmer has been murdered and then his body was dumped wrapped in plastic in the river and no one knows who the killer is apart from he lives locally!

Scene skips back to the lobby where all the Norwegian business men are franitcally leaving and the minion is frantically ringing the reception desk bell

Minion: The Norwegians are leaving! The Norwegians are leaving!

Bernie enters

BE: What the hell? (looks at Tamara) has this got anything to do with you?
TE: Me daddy? (taking out her chewing gum) How could I do this. I think the minions messed it up again!
BE: Minions I'll have you doing prision time for me for this!!!!


Outside the Twin Peaks police department HQ Sheriff Michael Andretti and Deputy Paul Tracey are standing awaiting the arrival of Heinz-Harald Frentzen.

PT: So during your stint over in F1 did you meet this guy?
MA: Nah he came in the year after me
PT: You know much about him?
MA: Just he showed a lot of potential, landed a seat at one of the big teams and blew it
PT: So you two have something in common then eh?

Frentzen's car pulls up in front of them and Heinz-Harald gets out the car stretches his arms out wide and breathes in deep.

HHF: ahhhh Gotta love the air out here!
MA: Hi I'm Sheriff........
HHF: ........Michael Andretti! Loved your podium at Monza!
MA: And this is................
HHF:..........a Canadian! (pats Tracey on the back!) Don't worry I'm sure you'll be of some use-a?
MA: Bit surprised to get one of your lot out here even for a murder case
HHF: Double murder case. Tell me Sheriff what types of tree's are these?
MA: Double murder?
HHF: they really give off a great scent. Makes me feel alive!
MA: You said double Murder?
HHF: Oh yes! (pulls photograph from his pocket and hands it to Andretti) The other murder was that of one James Allen. Found in exactly the same circumstances as Jolyon.
MA: James Allen? (looks at photo) I imagine that gives you a lot of suspects!
HHF: Yes we had half of the Clip The Apex forum in custody for a week but Road Of Bones kept correcting peoples spelling, Jos the Boss kept making bad weather predicitons and you don't want to know what FB was doing to pictures of Flavio! Anyways I don't think it was one of them - all leads point here
MA: Well I'm afraid the body count might have gone up to 3
HHF: Really? you've found another body?
MA: Not yet but we have another one of our young drivers missing
HHF: The name?
MA: Alex Brundle
HHF: Another son of an F1 driver eh?
MA: Exactly my line of thinking
HHF: Thats because you're a good man Andretti despite what Ron Dennis says.....and Martin Whitmarsh......and the rest of the Mclaren Team..........and actually the entire F1 world.....good man! Now if you excuse me I have to check into my hotel and then I'll meet you at Dr Palmer's house to look around

Frentzen opens his car door and breathes in the air

MA: Pine Trees
HHF: What?
MA: That the type of Tree
HHF: Pine trees! brilliant

Frentzen takes out his dictaphone and clicks it on

HHF: Dancia. Pine trees!

Frentzen clicks off the dictaphone and notices Andretti looking at it and blusehs some what

HHF: Just notes for my Partner. I think you know my partner.....actually you might know my partner!


Murray Walker is walking slowly riding along the road on his bicycle. In the front basket are a bunch of flowers with a "sorry for your loss" note stuck to it. Murray is casually humming "The Chain" as he rides along. He hears a russell in the bushes and halts suddenly and starts to peer into them

MW: Hello?

A figure covered in blood emerges from the bushes. his face is blank and he is shivering from head to toe.

MW: Oh my god Alex Brundle!


Heinz-Harold Frentzen's muddy hire-car pulls up outside a cute picturesque cottage house with Palmer written on the mailbook. Waiting for him outside is Michael Andretti looking perplexed

HHF: Sherif you look like you're trying to read an e-mail written by Ron Dennis. Whats troubling you?
MA: Just this whole thing.
HHF: My rental car? I know it has a gearbox but surely you Americans have come across them before
MA: No not that. This case. Alex Brundle has been found
HHF: He has? Still breathing?
MA: Just about. He's Catatonic though
HHF: He's Catatonia? you mean Welsh?
MA: No Catatonic. In a coma. So about as much use as Toyota F1 engine
HHF: But not dead. So still a lead. Maybe we're getting somewhere.
MA: lets hope so
HHF: Michael I think its only fair to warn you I've already sent for my own Forensics man to come in and he should be arriving later. He really is the best in the business but his manners are a little off.
MA: off?
HHF: like 8 week old cheese! But lets start here first. Hows Dr Palmer?
MA: Not good. I'll show you.

The two lawmen enter the house to find Dr Palmer dressed in drag waltzing around the living room to no music

JP: (sings) Jolyon, Jolyon, Jolyon, Jolyon! I'm begging of you don't take my son......
HHF: How longs he been like this?
MA: ever since we told him
JP: (sings) Jolyon, Jolyon, Jolyon, Jolyon! Please don't take him just because you can!
HHF: Well I'm pretty sure I've seen all I need to.
MA: You don't want me to take any photos
HHF: I'm pretty sure I'll remember this.


Back at the Ecclestone Retreat Lodge Emperor Ecclestone himself is sitting down to a 'family' lunch. He sits at the end of the table whislt his daughter, Tamara sits on the side. At the other end of the table is a minion Bernie has dressed up to look like Slavica(MDAS).

BE: Slavica.
MDAS: Yes your highness
BE: You should be telling Tamara off about the way she's dressed
MDAS: Yes your powerfullness (putting on best Slavica voice) Tamara you should't dress like that
TE: Oh shut up Minion you Cucumber!
BE: Tamara don't speak to your mother like that
TE: He's not my mother
BE: well don't speak to someone dressed up as your mother like that either!

Enter Max Mosley dressed in a black shirt, troussers and boots, with a black hat and a long blak leather jacket. He's wearing small round specticles and is walking with a cane and a limp

MM: Zeek Heil Mein Furher! (salutes)
BE: Ahhh Max! Good to see you old boy! Whats with the cane?
MM: Ze cane is neeed as madame vockervella vas a bit rough with me (hobbles over to Bernie)
BE: Bet you liked that you old dog
MM: Just as you vill like this (Max pulls out a file and slaps it on the table in front of Bernie)
BE: Finland? (looks at Max strangely)
MM: After zee disastor vith the Norvegians (glares at Tamara) ve needed someone from a similar area vith an interest in F1
BE: Ahhhh the return of Kimi!
MM: Indeed and as all Finn's drink as much as Kimi they von't notice if the racetrack you build here doesn't look exactly like Finland!
BE: Excellent
MM: They were on the right side in the var too!
BE: Ya know Max I don't know why I didn't come up with this idea of building a countries national track wherever we wanted it before! This Finnish Grand Prix in north america will be the first of its kind. Nothing can stops us. (does evil cackle)
MM: Yes! (also cackles evily)
MDAS: Yes! (cackles evily until he notices Max and Bernie have stopped then blushes)
MM: Of course there is one thing that could wreck it
BE: Jolyon Palmers murder
MM: exactly! Who is your agent on this case
BE: Heinz-Harold Frentzen
MM: Not exactly the example of the master race I was hoping for but I will point him in the right direction
BE: You do that Max and whilst you out can you pick up some more Vodka if those Finns are coming!


Michael Andretti and Heinz-Harold Frentzen are sitting in Andretti's police cruiser outside the local morgue waiting on Frentzen's forensics expert.

MA:...........and afterwards Martin Whitmarsh had to pull it out of him with a corkscrew!
HHF: (laughing) sounds like you had a blast with the team
MA: Yeah. Apart from the whole team thinking I was shit it was a good laugh
HHF: I had the same time as Williams. Our guy we're waiting on is ex F1
MA: Yeah?
HHF: Yeah. he doesn't like to talk about it much (smiles)

Another rental car identical to the one Frentzen drove pulls up in front of them and out steps a very angry Karl Wendlinger

HHF: Here's our man

Frentzen and Andretti step out the car, Wendlinger spots then and walks up towards them

KW: Double H! Why on earth have you dragged me to this hell hole
HHF: Nice to see you too Karl. This is the local law around here. Sheriff Michael Andretti
MA: Nice to meet you (sticks out a hand)
KW: (stares at the hand but doesn;t take it) We've met before but I doubt an american big shot like you would remember!
MA: We have
HHF: This is Karl Wendlinger
MA: Yeah I do remember you!
KW: You do? Well lets keep testing your memory shall we? Name all the drivers who had their careers destroyed in 1994?
MA: Ermmmm.....
KW: Uh Er! wrong answer. You were only going to say Ratzenberger and your pal Senna anyway weren't you? No one remembers my head injury at Monaco. No one remembers I was up and coming and on my way to a top drive.
HHF: You've told me many times before Karl. Now remember your manners and lets get to work
KW: Remember my manners! Alright for you to remember your manners! you had your shot didn't you? and guess what you blew it!
MA: ermmm....shall we go in?
KW: Don't you change the subject Andretti you went straight into a Mclaren drive! A Mclaren drive! You know what I'd have given to get a Mclaren drive!?!? and you couldn't be bothered to even stick around for a whole season. But hey you tell Karl to shut up and we'll go inside and I'll do both of your jobs better than you.

Wendlinger walks into the building

HHF: I told you he was different
MA: Hell yeah.

By the time Frentzen and Andretti follow Wendlinger he's already uncovered the body of Jolyon Palmer and is poking around.

HHF: So Karl what have you noticed?
KW: Well I've noticed that when people are asked to name an Austrian F1 driver they even list Alexander Wurz before they get to me. Alex fricking Wurz! I shit out Alex Wurz after breakfast everyday
HHF: I meant about the body
KW: Oh. Well the smell of Champagne and Marlboro ciggies is unmistakable. A bit of Pimms in their too
MA: Champagne?
KW: What ya gonna say Andretti? How would I know what Champagne smelled like having never had a podium? I drove for street teams like March and Sauber Andretti not lardy da suburbs Mclaren! We cracked open a bottle of Champagne for a points finish! Not the real stuff mind!
HHF: (sighing) anything else Karl?
KW: Yeah! unlike you two losers I'd never have blown my big chance but I never got one!
HHF: I meant about the body!
KW: Well there is this piece of paper under the fingernail
HHF + MA: What?
KW: this

Wendlinger uses tweasers and pulls out a tiny piece of paper from under Jolyon's finger nail. He opens it up and written on it is the word 'Legard'

HHF: Legard
MA: Hang on! Allen, Palmer, Brundle, Legard - theres your pattern! Is this the name of the next victim
HHF: Jonathan Legard? maybe but why advertise this one?
MA: yeah - might be best to call him though
HHF: anything else Karl?
KW: not yet. I'll be here all night on this one so why don't you two failures get out of my way and let me do my job!
HHF: Very well Mr Wendlinger. Oh and good job
KW: I've always done a good job its just a shame no one has ever noticed.


Andretti's police cruiser pulss up at The Ecclestone Retreat and Frentzen steps out the car and comes round to the drivers side where Andretti has the window down

HHF: Thanks for the lift Mike
MA: No Problem
HHF: and I'm sorry about Karl
MA: ahhh thats ok I see people bitter and twisted all the time...not quite like that
HHF: no one is quite like Mr Wendlinger. Anyways Sheriff I think my bed is calling me
MA: Well I'll see you tomorrow double H. I still think we should talk to Legard
HHF: Maybe - all seems to easy though. My brain is ticking and I'm hoping that tomorrow morning I'll have more answers for you
MA: you gonna pull an all nighter?
HHF: No I plan on sleeping like a baby
MA: You're an odd one Frentzen (smiles)

Andretti drives away and Frentzen takes a deep breath and walks inside as he walks away a strange dark figure appears from the shadows behind him. Its Max Mosley. He follows him inside.


Heinz-Harald Frentzen sits up straight in his hotel bed in blue silk PJs with a dictaphone in his hand. He clicks the record button

HHF: Dancia. You'll be please to know that once again I'm sitting in bed thinking about you but this time there is no need for the man size tissues.....not yet anyway. I'm going to e-mail you these recording tomorrow morning so this is likely to be one of my last. Andretti was right that Allen, Brundle, Palmer and Legard do all form a commentary connection which can't be ignored but Jonathan Legard as the next victim? What would be the point? Who would notice? Who would even care? I think I really need to sleep on this Dancia.

He clicks off the tape recorder, puts it by his bedside and settles down to sleep. we zoom in on his eyes and the camera dissolves into his mind


Inside his dream Frentzen sits in a bright red room on a bright red sofa. Next to him is Jonathan Palmer dressed in drag with thick red lipstick on smoking a ciggrette through a cigrette holder. In front of him wearing a red crushed velvet suite with a purple frilly shirt and seemingly dancing the Macarana is Johnny Herbert.

JH: Teb uoy thguoht einreb dlouw yalp siht trap thgir?
HHF: Due to his height he would have been the obvious choice yes
JH: llew s'eh neeb revo desu ni siht ydaerla os uoy era kcuts htiw em
HHF: I can live with that (turns to Palmer). Are you Dr Palmer?
JP: on m'i esiuoL namdooG
JH: on yarruM I kniht staht eht ekarb thgil!

both laugh hysterically

JH: deT si ni eht enaltip. deT?

Ted Kravitz face appears on the Red wall behind Frentzen

TK: Well Martin I'm down in the Mclaren garage and they still think they're on course for a one two here. They say its all looking promising.
JH: t'nevah htob fo rieht srac deriter deT?
TK: Yes but they still think they're on course for victory down here and I'd grab someone to interview if it wasn't for all thise ciggrette smoke blocking my vision....*dissolves into a coughing fit*

Ted Kravitz face fades and is replaced with what appears to be the laughing face of the devil but as it comes into focus it turns out to be Jim Rosnthal.

JR: ....and thats all from the ITV F1 team we'll see you next time at round 42 at the Isle of Fernandos Grand Prix.

The ITV F1 credits start to play on the wall and the Jamariqui song that was the title theme plays massively loud. Dr Palmer covers his/her ears as if in pain.

JP: siht si ton ehT niahC!!!

Palmer picks up and AK47 Machine Gun from behind the sofa that Frentzen is sitting on and begins to shoot the wall the titles are playing on. Eventually they stop and she turns the gun still firing and shoots Herbert 8 times in the chest. he/she then puts the gun inside his/her mouth and pulls the trigger dropping down to the floor with a big bloody hole in his/her head. Adrain Newy appears on the wall behind them head in his hands rubbing his scalp.

AN: The Horror! The Horror!

Newy dissolves from the wall and Frentzen stands up and walks towards the bleeding body of Herbert you can tell he is singing but its not until he gets close that the words become audiable - he's singing Hotel Califonia by the Eagles

JH: So I said to the Captain. Please bring me my wine. We haven't served that spirit here since 1979!

Sebastian Vettel's face appears on the wall also singing

SV: Who's afraid of the big bad Wolf! the big bad wolf? the big bad wolf?

Vettel's face dissolves and in its place appears a battered old Ford Escort witht the number plate "P1Suzuka" out of it steps a dishelved one armed man (oam).

OAM: I know who killed Jolyon Palmer!! ITS NOT ME!! ITS NOT ME!!!! He hates the Italian! NOT ME!!! NOT ME!!!!

The whole dream world dissolves and we're back looking at Frentzen sleeping in his hotel bed. His eyes spring open and he reaches for the phone.

HHF: Sherif? I know who killed Jolyon Palmer!

A small battered unmarked hire car is driving through a mountain road with forest either side. its dark and pouring with rain and we see it pass a road sign that reads "Twin Peaks 10 miles". We see inside the car and we see the driver is Danica Patrick. She's concentrating hard on the road in front but also has a tape of Heinz-Harald Frentzen's voice playing in the car

HHF (on tape): ...........lastly Danica I think its absolutely vital that we make contact with a one armed man. I can't really tell you what he looks like but I know he has a car with the registration plate of "P1Suzuka". I have a feeling you need to look out for this. Other than that have a lovely drive and I'll see you in Twin Peaks. The Cherry Pie here is to die for!

DP: Mr Frentzen I think you've finally lost it

She continues to drive through the rain and see's in front of her lit up by her headlines a car pulled at the side of the road and man by it waving her down. She pulls in infront of his car and winds the window down.

DP: need some help?

Man: Ciao bella! Thank you for stopping! I have a flat tyre and I'm struggling with the jack. Any chance you could hold it steady whilst I change it?

DP: No problem

Patrick steps out of the car and walks over to the man, she kneels down and holds the wheel jack steady whilst the man works at removing the wheel with the flat tyre.

DP: so what you doing out here?

Man: I'm a shoe salesmen. I'm just heading out on the road but I only got ten miles (laughing)

DP: You from Twin Peakes then?

Man: Yeah you know it?

DP: No but I'm about too I'm heading there on business of my own.

Man: What business is that?

DP: I'm an FBI agent

The man looks up at Patrick for the first time and a flash of lightning reveales the terrified look on his face. He goes back to work. Patrick glances down at the car number plate which reads "P1Suzuka". With wide eyes she looks down at the man putting the new tyre on the car and realises one of his hands is made of plastic. The lightning flashes again and she see's his face.

DP: You're Alessandro Nannini!

AN: No I'm not! You think every guy with one arm is Alessandro Nannini? Thats just racist! Now if you excuse me I need to carry on with my journey

DP: Why are you denying it I can see you're him.

AN: You're wrong!!! I just look a bit like him.

DP: What do you know about the murder of Jolyon Palmer?

With that Nannini runs past Patrick and away from the car as she watches him run into the darkness she pulls her gun and aims at him as he runs.

DP: Stop or I will shoot!

The man continues running and Patrick squeezes off a shot as the man dives for the woods you hear him let out a yelp as she obviously hits him in the leg. She quickly runs after him entering the woods herself. She sees blood on the ground in front and follows the trail catching a glimpse of Nannini in the distance. She comes to a clearing and there is no sign of him. She spots a large concreate cylinder that seems to be a sewer pipe and with gun drawn edges inside

DP: Freeze Nannini!

Alessandro Nannini stands at the end of the pipe all there is behind him is a sheer drop over a cliff down to a lake below

DP: you've got nowhere to go

AN: I didn't kill him!

DP: Then why run?

AN: Because I can;t tell you about him. He'd know it was me

DP: Who would know it was you Alessandro?

AN: He would! and his grudge knows no bounds. You only have to ask Riccardo

DP: is protecting him worth your life?

AN: he'd make sure my fate was worse than death!

DP: Surely not. Tell us who he is and we can protect you

AN: I'm sorry I can't

Saying that Nannini steps over the edge and falls out of sight. Patrick runs to the nd of the pipe and looks down quick enough to see him falling and splashing into the lake. He doesn't resurface.

DP: Bugger.


(we open on a scene of a snowy cottage with smoke coming from the chimney. We gradually move through the window and inside. Inside we see Heinz-Harald Frentzen seated in a rocking chair by the fire, smoking a pipe and casually stroking at a green scarf round his neck)

HF: (singing)’ Heidfeld roasting on an open fire….Jacques Villenurve moaning about his car’ (stops) Oh hello there! You just caught me singing one of my favourite xmas songs and reminiscing about where I got this scarf from (points to scarf) see this scarf is a special scarf. It was given to me by a snowman……a real snowman.

(Dancia Patrick appears at his side)

DP: Heinz! How many times! You are not David Bowie!

HF: (sulking) I could have been!

DP: Look the only reason anyone is listening to you babble on is because they want to find out who killed Jolyon Palmer!

HF: Well he killed his own career. Did you see GP2 this year

DP: Just bloody tell us!

HF: Ok Ok. Well it turned out that the ghost of James Hunt was possessing poor old Murray Walker and was basically getting him to bump off anyone who’d taken his job in the commentary box since he died.

DP: Oh god. Did Jonathan Legard or David Coulthard come to any harm?

HF: No they were fine.

DP: Shame.

HF: I know.

DP: So tell me more about Twin Peaks

HF: Well I first saw them when you did that shoot for that men’s magazine and I instantly had to reach for the mansize tissues….

DF: I meant the town!

HF: Oh right! Well I brilliantly deducted that it was the case and confronted Murray about it, eventually doing an exorcism with lots of heads spinning round, sick flying everywhere and some very rude things said about Riccardo Patrese.

DP: That’s sound like it would have been exciting to watch

HF: Yes. I’m not sure why we’re not seeing it now and have this instead

DP: Oh that’s easy. Basically ratings dropped because I wasn’t in it as much so for the xmas special they’re going to show a bit based around me and Silence of the Lambs whilst wearing a short skirt and tight top!

HF: Oh great! I’d watch that!

(fades out and in fades in at Dancia Patrick standing in an office in front of a desk. Sitting behind the desk is Rubens Barrichello with his feet up)

RB: …..I doubt he’ll give you much, he’s not very co-operative. I’d come and sit in on the interview with you and lend you my amazing investigation skills but I’m afraid he thinks of me as some sort of nemesis.

DP: Really sir.

RB: Yes he’s tried to kill me on several occasions. As much as he is a genius he knows I’m his equally

DP: (looking doubtful) Really sir I just want to talk to him about my case

RB: hmmmm…..OK. (stands up and looks behind her) Fellipe?

(Massa appears behind Dancia)

RB: Take Miss Patrick to see……..him

(cut to a heavy bolted door being unlocked and swinging open with a creek)

FM: Ok m’am if you just stay behind the red line and keep walking you’ll find him in the last cell on the end.

DP: ok (gulps).

(Patrick slowly starts to walk down the long corridor her heels clicking as she walks, she looks over at the first cell. Nigel Mansell is in it and lunges forward at the glass)

NM: You can’t even grow a moustache!!!!!

(Patrick keeps walking looking more scared in the next cell she see’s Andrea De Cesaries just writing “no wins” over and over again in chalk on the floor. In the third cell she sees Eddie Irvine with his face pressed against the glass)

EI: You have a smelly bottom!

(Patrick ignores him and finally comes to the last cell, as she appears in front of it, standing starring at her quietly like he’d been waiting all along is Michael Schumacher)

MS: Hello Dancia!

DP: Mr Schumacher. I’m pleased you remember me. I’ve come here to respectfully ask for your assistance.

MS: No need for the flattery or the title Miss Patrick

DP: Ok Michael but I am here to ask your help

MS: My help?

DP: The department is very interested in the activities of the Mercedes corporation and its recent actions and I thought you might be a unique positions considering your…..situation….to help us out in that department.

(Schumacher begins to pace his cell)

MS: Ahhhh I see Ms Patrick, Well I’ve been stuck in here since a certain Mr Hamilton joined them. Stuck in here. No news. How would I know whats going on? But as you’re here I’m thinking Norbert has gone?

DP: Yes sir.

MS: ….and now your sources connected them with a certain Austrian?

DP: Yes sir. You seemed well informed on this.

MS: Maybe I know a little

DP: Them maybe you could take a look at these pictures of the 2013 car for me

(Dancia drops some photographs into a metal shoot that goes through to the cell. Schumacher picks them up and begins to study them)

DP: Mr Schumacher can you tell us if you ever solved the tyre wear problem whilst you were driving for Mercedes?

(Schumacher looks at and stares straight at Dancia)

MS: No. The Mercedes ate my tyres with some lima beans and a nice chianti! Ferfaferferfer!

DP: scuse me?

MS: I said ferfaferferfer

DP: ok! Mr Schumacher can you offer us any insights into the Mercedes at all?

MS: I can Miss Patrick the question is will I. There is a phrase Dancia. You scratch my back I’ll scratch yours.

DP: Well I can’t really scratch your back there is a plate glass window between us. Anyway can’t you just use something long and pointy and scratch it yourself?

MS: I was speaking figuratively

DP: Oh ok…………meaning?

MS: I assume you had the pleasure of meeting the lovely Brazilian nut job in the office?

DP: Mr Barrichello? Yes I met him

MS: He’s taken all my trophies, scrubbed my name out and written his own on in crayon. I would like them back.

DP: How am I suppose to do that?

MS: That is up to you Miss Patrick but I’m not helping you with your investigation until then.

DP: Well Mr Schumacher I’ll see what I could do.

(Patrick gets up to leave and as she walks past Eddie Irvine’s cell he throws a hideous shirt at her and laughs wildly. Patrick screws her face up in disgust. Schumacher begins to shout from his cell)

MS: Miss Patrick I can only apologise for Eddie’s horrific behaviour, believe me I shall make sure he is punished but as a way of apologising let me offer this in way of advice for you case. There is a little birdy at Mercedes who may be able to sing for you. Now leave Miss Patrick!

(Danica scurries out the door)

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