'Well, it wasn't £300,000, but this is now looking a lot worse than it was not long ago...'

'You're telling me, Paddy!' Fiona replies to laughter. 'At this rate I'll end up with 50p and £10 at the end!'

'Don't give him ideas,' Patrick quietly tells Fiona as the Banker rings. The phone goes up and down within seconds.

'He thinks you should go before you get into more trouble, and he's giving you the chance by offering £24,500.' A big surprised 'ooh' from the crowd.



'Still not worth it,' Donald opines. 'But that offer's a lot better than the last, relatively speaking.'

'I was expecting him to go back to £9,900,' admits Fiona. 'If he'd done that,' replies Donald, 'I'd have walked out of the studio.' Cue laughter.

'I think I'm ready,' says Fiona to Patrick. 'No more advice needed?' 'I don't think so.'

'£24,500... Deal or No Deal?' 'No Deal.'

'Two more... and if they're like the last two, this game will be heading on a one-way ticket to oblivion.'

'Well,' promises Fiona, 'they won't be, will they?' The crowd cheer approvingly. '17 please.'

'Rosalind, welcome, you get your chance to open a box now...' 'You say that like it's a good thing, Patrick! What if my hand slips and it all falls apart?' Laughter.

'Oh don't worry, just open it, it's not like it matters how you open it!' Patrick replies... while pointing to Pawel, who is doubled up in laughter.

Box 17 - £300,000

A huge groan. 'Oh Fiona! You said they wouldn't be like the last two!'

'I know, I know... someone doesn't like me...'

'Now, one more... you can still get a lot of money out of this game...'

'Doubt it, but oh well. Wasn't meant to be. 11 please, like it matters now.'

'Of course it matters Fiona,' Meinir points out. 'This box has 50p and then you'll come back and get something good out of the game.'

'Well, nothing to fear then. Open Box 11 and reveal 50p!'

Box 11 - £500

'It's not 50p, but it's better than the last three...'

'I just can't believe that. I really think someone's toying with me tonight.'

'Well, you're right about that...' The phone rings. 'And here he is now...'

'Hello... yes, yes, STOP THAT NOW!' Laughter.

'No, seriously, I know it's bad, but we all know that too.

...uh-oh...'

'He wants you to go... and he would dearly love Donald to walk out of the studio. £9,900.



Donald is staying still. 'Why aren't you moving?' 'That's because it's almost a sensible offer now. Sadly. Still a No Deal though with only one to open.'

'Anyone else think it's a Deal?' asks Fiona. Nobody stands up, though Cyril looks like he wants to. Patrick seizes upon this... 'Cyril, you'd Deal here?' 'No sir, I just couldn't see the board properly. No, I wouldn't Deal here.'

'I'm ready.' '£9,900 again, then... Deal or No Deal?' 'No Deal. Definitely.'

'Now, one more, and another blue would make a hell of a difference.'

'22 please, Gillian.' 'I wasn't going to wish you good luck as I didn't think you needed it, but clearly you do now... so good luck.'

Box 22 - 50p

The place comes back to life. 'Well, I'm happy now. Just should have gone there earlier!' Fiona jokes.

'I'll say it now before Donald does... there is a 60% chance that you have at least £15,000 in your box...' The phone rings. 'Well, as far as we know. He, of course, has a 100% chance of knowing.' 'Bah,' Fiona says.

'And you aren't going to let us forget about it!'

'OK, fine.'

'We're getting somewhere again, £17,800.'

'Sneaky,' Donald says. 'He's just made sure that only keeping £75,000 will make a better offer possible. I'd go on though, there's only a 20% chance you'll hit it.'

'But if I hit 15 or 20...'

'He shouldn't move much. I'd hope.'

'Anyone else?'

'No Deal, you can still get some more out of this,' says Bill. 'Deal,' says Cyril, quite decisively. 'Nooooooooooo,' sings Margaret, timed to drown out Cyril. That draws a few laughs. 'Seriously,' she speaks, 'your luck is turning, my friend. You can get away with anything other than 75.'

'Brian?' asks Fiona. 'The first Ulster contestant won really big. Do it for us, No Deal.'

'I think I'm ready.'

'£17,800... Deal... or No Deal?'

A pause this time. 'No Deal.'

Applause. 'Is this one step too far, or are we still on the road to riches?'

'Alex, 21.'

Box 21 - £750

Big cheers. 'The road to riches, the road to recovery... call it what you will, but we're getting somewhere again!'

The Banker phones instantly.

'Here we go... the last one seemed to cause you a problem... will this tip you over the edge?'

'Hello?'

'I like it when you're scared. It makes me less scared, as if you're draining the fear from me.' Laughter.

'OK, thank you.'

'We're back to £24,500.'

'Much better,' says Donald. 'I'd take that before it gets worse, it's close enough to the average at last.'

'Definite Deal,' says Cyril. 'I might have to agree this time,' says Margaret. 'But you'll regret it forever if you hit the tenner next...' ...and Margaret bursts into a rendition of Nessun Dorma for no obvious reason. And not transposed an octave, for what it's worth. 'I thought guys sung that!' jokes Patrick. 'Oh Patrick, have you not even heard Katherine Jenkins sing it?' replies Margaret, with just a hint of anger.

'Serious business though... anyone else with an opinion?'

Bill raises his hand. 'No Deal, but you're sick of me saying that aren't ya?' Laughter. 'If you think it, then say it!' Patrick replies. 'Moirrey?' 'Go before the luck turns again, I say.' 'Oliver?' 'I don't want to say this, but I think you should Deal.'

Now Fiona raises her hand. 'Patrick! Patrick?' she cries. 'I'm ready.' 'No more advice?' 'No more.'

'£24,500...

...Deal...

...or No Deal?'

A pause. Maybe she's not ready. A very long pause. She probably isn't...

...'Deal.' Ah, she is.

'So, £24,500 is yours, and we can justify that Deal immediately if - but ONLY if - we see £75,000 now.'

'OK then, Margaret, Box 4.'

'Margaret, we know what we want to see.' 'I know,' she replies. 'We want it to be high.' And then, perhaps inevitably, she bursts into a sustained high note as she opens the box...

Box 4 - £10

'Oh, Margaret! You were right the FIRST time you sung!'

'Never, ever, EVER trust me, I never do as I should!'

Laughter. A brief call. 'He would now have offered THIRTY four and a half thousand pounds.'



'Cyril, 18. You told me to go earlier, so I'm guessing you peeked in the box and it had £75,000.' Laughs. 'Even if I could do that, I doubt I'd be so sneaky.'

Box 18 - £15,000

'Well, we now know that Cyril ISN'T psychic... and we also know that it wasn't a great Deal...'

Phone rings. 'The offer would now have been FORTY four and a half thousand pounds!' 'Should have guessed,' sighs Fiona.

'The first two players had £20,000 in their box. We are now hoping to make that three...'

The box is opened...

£75,000.

'Unfortunately, no. You did have £75,000 all along.'

'I'm OK, I think. But I could have done so much with the money I missed out on... but... I can do a lot with what I did win.'

'And that's why you went when you did?'

'It was. It wasn't to be, or maybe it was...'

'Don't worry. You still leave us with £24,500... Alice, open Box 15... it was there, £20,000. Maybe you should have played today Alice?'

'Don't think so, I'd have taken the same offer!'

'Well, you might get your chance very soon indeed... find out who's next to go for £500,000 after the break!'