It is early morning at a cell in Slade prison, where Norman Stanley Fletcher (played by Ronnie Barker) is lying on the top bunk and reading The Sun. Enter Mr Mackay, the chief warder, accompanied by a new prisoner.

Mackay: On your feet, Fletcher

Fletch: Naffin’ hell, Mr Mackay. Can’t you see I’m studying form?

Mackay: Nonsense, man, you’re just staring at page 3.

Fletch: I didn’t say what kind of form I was studying, did I? So what can I do for you, Mr Mackay.

Mackay: I have a new cell mate for you.

Fletch: Not today, thank you. Not unless she’s a rich blonde.

Mackay: It pains me to say it, Fletcher, but you are in luck.

Enter Paris Hilton.

Fletch: Naffin’ hell, who’s this?

Paris: Like, uh, I’m Paris Hilton.

Fletch: Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. I’m the Powys Travelodge, but you can call me Fletch.

Mackay: Show the young lady a bit of respect, Fletcher. Miss Hilton’s family founded the Hilton hotel group.

Fletch: Then she’ll feel quite at home here, won’t she, Mr Mackay? I’m afraid that Mr Grout has already reserved the executive penthouse, but this luxury bunk has unexpectedly just become available what with young Godber getting parole.

Mackay: Miss Hilton will be serving 45 days for driving while disqualified. I’m putting her in your care, Fletcher. But don’t forget: I shall be watching you like a hawk – like a hawk.

Paris: Look, Mr Fletcher, I should sooo not be here.

Fletch: Ah well, that’s what they all say. You just got to bide your time.

Paris: Look, you don’t understand. I get into trouble because of who I am. Like it said in The Sun, the cops pull me over all the time, just to hit on me. It’s really annoying.

Fletch: Well, just bide your time. And whatever you do, don’t talk about politics in here.

Paris: Why would I want to talk about politics?

Fletch: Because everybody knows you’re some sort of socialite, that’s why.

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