Gatesy: Okay...
Scod: Thanks for sticking around!
Gatesy: Now, the challenge was - there was Doctor Spoya...
Scod: Doctor Spoya... there was a Torana...
Gatesy: Yes... there was fish food...
Scod: Yes...
Gatesy: Epsom Salts...
Scod: Yep...

Audience member: Gangster rap...
Gatesy: Gangster rappin'!
Yon: Gangster rap...

Gatesy: Elvis kind of song... yeah, Elvis, we've said...
Yon: Elvis, we've said, well, we did it in an Elvis style, rather than putting Elvis in.
Gatesy: What else was there? A Torana...

Audience member: I said Elvis, I'm sorry...

Gatesy: No, no, no, no, no... Elvis is cool. Elvis is King!

Audience member: I'm sorry...

Scod: Elvis is King, in fact Elvis is the style in which we have chosen to do the entire song. So... well done...
Gatesy: I just want to know, I haven't missed anything...
Scod: Gangster rap... no, it's all there.
Gatesy: Okay, let's go.
Scod: Let's do it! Good luck everyone, good luck!

Okay!
Gatesy: Thanks for sticking around for an hour, guys. We realise it's, you know, after bedtime.
Scod: Yeah...

One! Two! Three!

Tripod: (Elvis) Oh lover,
Gatesy: I've been missing you so long.
Tripod: Can't recover,
Gatesy: So I have to sing this song.
Tripod: No other,
Gatesy: I'm dying from this long-distance love,
Lover.

Tripod: Don't wanna,
Scod: Be without you any more.
Tripod: Was a gonna,
Scod: When you walked right out my door.
Tripod: No funn-er,
Scod: Wanna pack right up and go do a runner.
Tripod: In my Torana.

Though we may poke out our pelvis,
This bit isn't very Elvis-y.

But this bit iiiiiiisssssssssss...

Scod: Don't need no banker or no lawyer,
Tripod: Don't need no naval destroyer,
Don't need to loiter in no foyer,
I'm far away from you,
And every day I bleed,
So won't you tell me what I need...
Scod: Doctor Spoya?

Tripod: I'm heartbroken,
Yon: I just can't concentrate.
Tripod: I'm not jokin',
Yon: I've made some terrible mistakes...
Tripod: ... since we've spoken.
Yon: I fed my favourite fish with Epsom Salts.
Now they're chokin'.

Scod: Man, once I fed my fish with Epsom Salts, they're almost relaxed to death.
Man, my fish are so chilled out, they're like gangster rappers.
They're like Cyprus Hill fish.

Gatesy: (Gangster rapping) I was on a roll,
Just swimmin' round my bowl.
Put me in a weird mood,
Epsom Salts in my food!
Now I breakdance and I spin,
With my flappy-flappy fins, and the...

(Pause)

Yon: No!
Gatesy: That was good! They liked that!
(Gangster rap) Yeah, all right. Thank you for coming round.
Yon: That is not how fish rap!
Give me a beat...
Scod: How do fish rap?
Yon: I'll show ya...

Yon: Gurgle, gurgle, blubb, blubb, gurgle, gurgle...

Gatesy: Yeah, fine, thanks...

Tripod: (Elvis) Don't need no Janet or no Toya,
Don't need no Bert or no Moira,
You're my Helen of Troy-a,
I'm far away from you,
And every day I bleed,
So won't you tell me what I need...

Don't need no Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer,
Don't need no Backstreet or no Boy-a,
Don't need no H.G. or no Roy-a,
I'm far away from you,
And every day I bleed,
So won't you tell me what I need...

Scod: Doctor...
Gatesy: Doctor...
Yon: Doctor...

Tripod: Doctor Spoya?