Britain’s rollicking, unabashedly lowbrow TV hit may be too good to stay on that side of the pond, writes the Tribune’s Tom Hundley

LONDON — Surely we can all agree there is nothing humorous about incontinence.

And we don’t make fun of fat people or gays or teen pregnancy or people in wheelchairs, do we?

So why is everybody in Britain laughing so hard at Matt Lucas and David Walliams?

From the island that gave the world Monty Python, Basil Fawlty and Mr. Bean, it seems The Next Big Thing is "Little Britain."

It began in 2001 as a series of BBC radio sketches. Lucas, 31, and Walliams, 34, two very funny guys who met while studying drama at Bristol University, developed a cast of stock characters who seemed to capture the icky underside of Britain. Two years later, the network took a chance on a television series.

In its first season, the show gathered a small but devoted following. About midway through the second season, it took off.

"It’s been really weird," Walliams said in an interview with The Independent newspaper. "During the second series, something happened, and the show wasn’t really ours any more. All of a sudden it was owned by the viewers, and they wanted to celebrate it. It’s like we’re in a car and steering it, but the brakes have been cut and we’re not in control of it anymore."

Last week’s premiere of the show’s third season drew 9.5million viewers and a whopping 40 percent market share. Its characters have become national icons, as familiar to the masses as Prince Charles or David Beckham.

Take Vicky Pollard, the slovenly, rude, stupid and constantly pregnant teenager played by Lucas. Her whiney "No but yeah but no but yeah" is fast becoming the British equivalent of Jerry Seinfeld’s "yadda yadda yadda."

In one sketch, Vicky, who has just had another baby, is visited in her grungy flat by a social worker. The social worker wants to check on the baby. After hemming and hawing, Vicky admits she has swapped her baby for a Westlife CD.

"How could you do such a thing?" asks the stunned social worker.

"I know, they’re rubbish," replies Vicky.

And then there’s overweight, vinyl-clad Daffyd Thomas (Lucas), who jealously guards his claim to being "the only gay in the village." There’s the bumbling prime minister, played by Anthony Head, who appears oblivious to the relentless flirtations of his flamingly gay young aide (Walliams); and of course Sir Norman Fry (Walliams), the politician whose family steadfastly poses by his side as he confesses ("I regret to say that a part of my body accidentally entered him") to yet another in an endless string of scandals.

Tasteless? Juvenile? Vulgar? Yes, all of that and worse.

This season the show has introduced a few new characters, including an overweight mail-order bride from Thailand named Ting Tong Macadangdang (Lucas), and a kindly senior citizen named Mrs. Emery (Walliams) who loves to stop for a chat in the supermarket but always leaves behind a puddle on the floor.

Like a lot of British humor, "Little Britain" relies heavily on men dressing up in women’s clothing.

Critics have panned the show. "Dreary, derivative rubbish," according to the high-minded Times. "Nasty newcomers are not a Little Brit funny," was the judgment from the mass-circulation News of the World.

But when it comes to comedy, there is no accounting for taste, and Middle England apparently has fallen in love with the weird and repulsive characters that populate "Little Britain."

Earlier this year, when Lucas and Walliams came up with a stage version of the show and announced a national tour, it sold out in a matter of hours. The stage version has turned into a show-within-a-show as fans arrive at the theater dressed as Vicky, Daffyd and other favorite characters.

"Little Britain" dolls and other merchandise have become this Christmas’ biggest sellers. There’s talk of a Vicky Pollard label of very chav, very tacky designer tracksuits.

Last month, Lucas and Walliams achieved what might be considered Britain’s highest celebrity honor, short of a knighthood, when Madame Tussauds cast their likenesses in wax.

While Americans might not have a clue when Vicky huffs about finding "a verruca sock in the girls’ bog," it can only be a matter of time before "Little Britain" attempts to cross the Atlantic.