Gillian Reynolds

Do not, if at all possible, miss the final part of Two Episodes of Mash (Radio 2, Saturday night). This is a very funny, inventive and engaging comedy show, written and performed by Diane Morgan and Joe Wilson. It is also quiet (no studio audience) and therefore intimate, welcoming you into its various fantasy worlds where a sheepdog colludes with a sheep and a queen bee finds out what's really happening in her hive from a wasp who's joined for the fringe benefits.

Annoyingly addictive parody of several parodies. If you liked that Ladies of Letters series on Woman's Hour, with a hint of 1066 and All That, plus gay jests, you'll like this. If not, avoid. It's February 1810 and this is an imagined correspondence between Copenhagen (Daniel Rigby) and Marengo (Stephen Fry), the first being Napoleon's horse, the second Wellington's. Copenhagen starts as more of a gusher in 21st century mode (he signs with a hoofprint and kiss kiss) than grave Marengo. Remember, Waterloo looms. By Robert Hudson and Marie Phillips.

Rory Bremner comes home to radio, hosting this new series which combines topical satire, sketches, stand-up routines, impressions and the kind of investigative parody he made his own on Channel 4 in the darkest days of Blairism. Some fellow satirists mock him for earnestness, self-righteousness. I think they might just be a bit jealous of his powers of observation and mimicry. He's assisted here by comedian and writer Andy Zaltzman and impressionist Kate O'Sullivan. The show is to be repeated in the dodgy 7.15pm Sunday slot, which rather challenges its title.

After a successful pilot episode last year, the kooky sketch show Two Episodes of Mash (Radio 2, 10.00pm) returns for a four-part series. Starring Diane Morgan and Joe Wilkinson, it begins by wondering what Rapunzel would have done with an intercom, and what spiders think about when they're trapped under a glass.

John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme now occupies the place formerly held by Americana. In a bold move Radio 4 Controller Gwyneth Williams has inserted comedy into the slot where current affairs has most recently been and, before that, where the last ill-fated attempt at children's radio died the death. Finnemore's effort is prodigious, a dozen short sketches written and performed by a very funny man previously responsible for one of Radio 4's greatest recent comedy successes, Cabin Pressure. I heard the first Souvenir Programme, laughed quite a lot. I heard the latest, smiled a bit. Finnemore is a master in the comedy of disappointed expectation. He excels in wordplay. Both are stretched to unreasonable lengths here. It is also a reckless misuse of Finnemore's talents to ask him to bridge the gap between The Archers and (this week) a melancholic short story about a Scottish heroin-addicted young mother especially when this week's grim mix included a trailer for Ambridge Extra which sounded just like a Finnemore sketch.

Two Jacobite soldiers from 1745, a clan chief and his bard, have been found alive and well in a cave. A visiting English academic (of no great status but hopes of it) leaps at the chance to integrate them into modern Scottish society. Carl Gorham (of Stressed Eric cultish fame) is the author and this is very funny, especially if you (as I do) like Scotsmen plus a bustling conjunction of the real with the surreal. There's a marvellous cast too, David Haig, Gordon Kennedy (who also directs), Jack Docherty, Moray Hunter, Morwenna Banks and Rebecca Front.

A grainy Cornish comedy by Carl Grose, about a scrap dealer who dies, leaving his three children each a personal memento. As his two sons bicker, younger daughter Maddy, aged 18 and very practical (played by Alex Tregear), comes in for his Cadillac Eldorado, 1956 vintage. The question of what to do with it turns academic since one of the boys has become a drug dealer, which means he owes a lot of money. How to raise it? Well, they live near to the stock car racing capital of Cornwall. Guess who'll be competing in the Caddy?

Those titans of dramatic insight, The National Theatre of Brent, Desmond Olivier Dingle and Raymond Box (aka Patrick Barlow and John Ramm) present the history of the Suffragettes in, of course, their own characteristic way, where Little Dorrit and her politician husband explore the issues before she joins the struggle. If you have not met The National Theatre of Brent before, be patient as they lumber through their introduction. The bubbling historical and linguistic stew which lies beyond is definitely worth it.

Janet Street-Porter is Rufus Hound's subject. She reads from her teenage journals, about being around in Soho in the Sixties. I seem to remember her writing about this time and being particularly vehement about the horrors of her home life, hence her outrageousness. But the thing about Janet is that the older she grows the nicer she gets. In the Seventies she was nakedly ambitious, in the Eighties ruthlessly power-hungry, in the Nineties she sold her fur coats, grew reflective and funnier. Once the century turned she started to become rather enviably sage.

Michael Winner proves shrewdly adept at self-deprecation. He only ever kept one diary, he tells host Rufus Hound, of a student trip he took to America in 1953 in his late teens, when it was a remote and romantic destination and the only plane route was via Iceland. As he reads from it here he keeps up a constant critique of his younger self for showing off, being arrogant, dumb. But he was already a published writer, having had a syndicated column since he was 14. No wonder he seemed so blasé about New York. "Pathetic, really," he says. But funny.