A Rhyme About Remembering Friends, By Brum

When the screens go off

And classics seem never,

Keep us in your heart!

Remember us forever.

Teletubbies

Thunderbirds & BBC 2 In September 2000

The Petal Garden Incident (Bill & Ben)

If you grew up in the UK during the early 2000s, chances are you caught an episode or two of Bill & Ben, the Cosgrove Hall-produced reboot of the 1950s classic. With its soft clay animation and endearingly gibberish-speaking flowerpot men, it was a staple of Children’s BBC—later CBeebies—for kids just beginning to form memories. But there’s one episode you’ve never seen. Not on TV, not online, and certainly not mentioned in official BBC archives. Internally at Cosgrove Hall, it had a name: The Petal Garden Incident.

According to ex-staff at Cosgrove Hall, the episode was the result of an internal experiment—one not meant for broadcast. The studio was experimenting with abstract, subconscious imagery and horror concepts for a new adult anthology series. Someone, allegedly a writer named "Stuart N.", jokingly pitched the idea of “Bill and Ben in purgatory,” playing off the idea that their garden world was too peaceful, too isolated.

The animators, under heavy production schedules and perhaps looking to blow off steam, decided to use the Bill & Ben models as a mockup for a psychological horror concept—never intended to be aired. But something went wrong. Very wrong. The footage was mistakenly catalogued as a rough cut for the actual show and included in early distribution reels for overseas broadcasters. The BBC caught it before airing, but test viewers in Norway and Japan were not so lucky.

The intro begins as usual. The tinkling music plays. The flowers sway. You hear the gentle narration: “Bill and Ben… the Flowerpot Men.” But in this version, something’s off.

The music is slower. Dragged out. Like it’s melting. The sky looks darker. There’s a sound—very faint at first—of a baby wailing. As the intro continues, the wailing grows louder. Sharper. Soon it’s not a baby at all, but a guttural, demonic moan. The flowers twist unnaturally toward the screen. The screen flashes with violent cuts—frames of something unrecognizable. Blood? Raw meat? A hospital room?

Then the colors invert. The entire screen floods with a deep, arterial red. The music cuts. All that’s left is the sound of panting. Not from Bill or Ben—but from something alive.

Without a title card, we cut to the garden—only it’s dim, suffocatingly grey. Bill and Ben are strapped to a crude wooden table, their clay arms tied with rough twine. Their mouths are sealed. No “flobbadob.”

Weed is standing over them. She doesn’t speak, but her leaves twitch in a rhythmic pattern—signalling, commanding. Pry the magpie flies in first, landing on Ben's chest. Then Boo, Whoops, Scamper, and finally Slowcoach arrive, surrounding the helpless flowerpot men.

They begin pulling. Slowly at first, then with increasing force. Bill’s left arm is yanked off, revealing not clay—but flesh. A squirming, bloodied human baby arm. The others work in sync, peeling away the clay skin until, lying on the table where Bill and Ben once were, are two writhing, shrieking real human babies. Their eyes blink open—and they look straight at the camera.

The scene cuts without warning to real-life footage. The ocean. Grey, stormy waves slamming against jagged rocks. Then, a cliffside. Handheld footage now. A baby, perhaps nine months old, crawls on all fours toward the edge of the cliff. There are no adult voices—just the sound of distant seagulls, and the wind.

Then the baby falls.

There is no music. Just a piercing scream—female, primal. The camera shakes violently, and the screen cuts to static.

We return to the garden one last time. The clay aesthetic is back—but it’s cruder. Bill and Ben, now baby-sized versions of themselves, sit huddled in the mud. They look up and smile weakly.

Then, from the cracks in the ground, come ants. Hundreds. Thousands. With sharp, exaggerated mandibles. They swarm the baby versions of Bill and Ben. There’s no screaming—just the quiet crunch of consumption. Clay limbs twitch, dissolve. The ants consume everything.

Fade to black.

The BBC never aired the episode. After a catastrophic test screening with an internal panel—including parents, psychologists, and executives—the footage was flagged and officially locked in the BBC’s content vault. Some even say it was physically destroyed.

But copies had already leaked. A Norwegian children's block aired it once by mistake before pulling the episode mid-broadcast. In Japan, it aired in full during an overnight block meant for preschoolers, prompting multiple complaints and a quiet apology from NHK. The episode became known in international broadcaster logs as “B&B-RedRend01”.

After the incident, Cosgrove Hall quietly dismantled the original Bill & Ben production team. When the BBC commissioned them again, it was to focus on simpler, gentler reboots. Their next task? A reboot of Andy Pandy—released in 2002 with muted pastels and slow, meditative pacing. There were no more experiments. No more “adult horror mockups.”

They never mentioned The Petal Garden Incident again.

But sometimes… when watching Bill & Ben reruns on old VHS tapes, the screen flickers red for just a single frame.

A Nice Snow Day

It was a nice snow day in the year '91

When all the kids were outside having fun

I woke up with Pink Teddy by my side

While under the covers Penelope did hide

I walked lazily to the bathroom rubbing my eyes

When Penelope did wake up, it was a surprise

She asked me for a mug of hot cocoa

And I said yes, so what's to know?

And now, look at us: snuggled together

Underneath warm blankets - aaahhh, heaven

We drink our cocoa and watch Children's BBC

On Lady Penelope's small screen TV

Yes, this is the year 1991

And everyone was having fun

Especially Lady Penelope and me

Keeping warm, just my mum and me.

A Day With Otis & Konnie

“Would, you, BELIEVE IT!” screamed the newest Blue Peter presenter Konnie after the day she was coronated as the next Blue Peter presenter. She was talking to Mabel, the Blue Peter dog, who was cute because of her different coloured eyes. “My first show was absolutely bonkers! I met the presenters and oh my god, I can’t wait to see what life is like at Children’s BBC.” But then, her face fell. “Ooh,” she sighed, “I think they’re all not real.”

“Or are we?” said a voice right next to her. Konnie turned around and gasped in shock. There, right in front of her, was Otis the Aardvark! “Otis? Oh wow, you are real!” gasped Konnie. “Real as can ever be,” laughed Otis, “Now, why are you in the normal BBC studio? Is Blue Peter aimed for adults now?” “No,” replied Konnie, “I’m just excited about meeting new people. I just…don’t know where to start yet.” “Well come with me,” said Otis, “I want to show you the Children’s BBC studios!”

Without a moment’s thought, Otis took Konnie’s hand and led her along the corridor to a bright yellow door marked ‘Children’s BBC’. Mabel followed. When Otis opened the door, Konnie’s jaw dropped. There in front of her was a whole black and yellow set with various Children’s BBC characters playing and having fun. “Hello, everyone!” called Otis, “I would like you to meet Konnie!” “Hi Konnie!” everyone called. “Konnie, would you care to introduce yourself to everyone?”

At once, Konnie didn’t feel one bit shy. First, she introduced herself to the Teletubbies - Tinky Winky, Dipsy, La La and Po - and their vacuum nursemaid Noo Noo. She loved when Po did karate moves as a way of expressing her excitement, and Tinky Winky’s simple attitude made her laugh. She then went on to say hello to Postman Pat and his cat Jess. Since Jess spoke in low meows, Pat offered Konnie the chance to stroke Jess’ fluffy fur. “And don’t you know her fur will be straight should Jess be revived for TV?” asked Pat. “Mmmmmm…maybe,” said Konnie.

Next, she introduced herself to Fireman Sam. She questioned him whether everyone in his town, Pontypandy, sounded Welsh or not. “Some of us do,” said Sam, “I think maybe Penny’s the only one who comes from London.” “Then does Norman come from the depths of Hell?” asked Konnie. This sent everyone laughing, before Konnie went on to introduce himself to Pingu. Because of seasons 3 and 4, Pingu had to communicate through sign language, as he was the only hope of teaching deaf children how to communicate with loved ones. Konnie, surprisingly enough, knew BSL all too well. Pingu was taught BSL the moment season 3 of his show premiered.

But the moment she introduced herself to Noddy and Tessie Bear, two things happened: first, Mabel knocked Noddy to the ground and licked his face, causing Tessie to giggle. “Why are your eyes all weird?” asked Noddy. “Don’t worry, Noddy, she has heterochromia so her eyes are coloured-”

“WOAH!”

SMACK!

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!”

And that was final. Martha Monkey’s banana peel had sent Konnie to hospital.

When Konnie woke up in the hospital, she had no idea of where she is, yet she somehow had bandages around her head. She groaned for a little bit and asked “What happened? What happened to me? WHERE AM I?!” But there was no response. Until Otis arrived with a bunch of flowers and tried comically to place them into a vase, which brightened Konnie’s mood a little.

“I see you’re a little tied up with amnesia at the moment…or at least, that’s what the doctor told me.” explained Otis. “Is it permanent?” “No, it’s supposed to last a whole week. They told me that on Monday, your brain will clear and you will have a fresh mind again.” “Oh my god, thanks very much, Otis,” Konnie said, feeling much better already. However, poor Konnie didn’t remember anything about the next Blue Peter show. It was too much for her. She thought she knew everything about Blue Peter. Now it just bled from her mind like a knowledge-filled ooze. Konnie put her hands over her face and began to cry. “Don’t worry, my friend, we can plan it out together!”

Konnie and Otis spent the entirety of Konnie’s hospital stay talking about plans for Blue Peter, which Konnie had to write down on a piece of paper in case she forgot.

And by the time they removed the bandages on Monday, Konnie’s amnesia was fully gone. When she returned to the studio, Mr Plod had to scold Martha Monkey for using her stock of bananas to play such a horrid trick. Meanwhile, Konnie was waiting for her next Blue Peter show.

“Cheer me on, will you, Otis?” she asked as Otis left the control room. Otis nodded, but not before Martha Monkey ran in with a banana, which she gave to Konnie out of kindness. “Thanks,” said Konnie, taking the banana out of its peel and throwing it onto the floor.

Ah-aaaaaaaaaaaah, we know what’s going to happen to Martha Monkey next, don’t we?

SLIP!

“OUCH!”