Ferris has split up with his wife and is currently living with his mother-in-law, whilst Dave has just been thrown out by his. No deviation remains unexplored as we follow Dave on the road to free love; watch Ferris try to extricate himself from the deep fat-fryer and gasp in sheer boredom as Tolly tries to find a suitable replacement for the fish paste in his sandwiches. But the people who really deserve sympathy here are Lucy and Julia Davis, whose excellent work in TV series The Office and Human Remains will forever be sullied by their connection to this ghastly enterprise. Aimlessly charting the misadventures of four delivery men and their never-ending quest to sow their oats, it's as subtle as a copy of Viz and as witty as a graffiti-strewn toilet. Evidently believing that nothing succeeds like excess, Humphries assaults the viewer with an orgy of group sex, three-in-a-bed sessions, and sordid encounters behind a chip shop counter. Strawberry jam and fish paste. Meanwhile his best friend Ferris Mackenzie Crook is still living with his mother-in-law Kate Robbins , putting a smile on her face in return for free rent - whenever her arthritic knee permits such diversions. When we first meet Brummie spud distributor Dave Johnny Vegas , he's being thrown out of the house by a wife understandably tired of his slobbish, drunken ways. Then there's manager Jeremy: Potato Men, however, belongs to a more recent and less noble tradition: When all this gets too much, Ferris moves to the gherkin shelf in the storeroom of the local chip-shop, where he becomes involved in the bizarre sexual practices of one of the pneumatic assistants and her voyeuristic husband. Directed by Andy Humphries. He moves in with a serial self-abuser called Tolly, who is addicted - for reasons I cannot go into - to strawberry jam and fish-paste sandwiches. The result would be unspeakably vile if it wasn't so embarrassingly puerile.