It's Dickens, but not as we know it – or ever imagined it, for that matter. I'm pretty certain The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff (BBC2, 8.30pm) isn't how Charles ever pictured his whimsical prose to be interpreted either, writes Peter Warzynski.

However, this comic incarnation of Victorian Britain, which stems from the satirical mind of Mark Evans (writer of the Radio 4 spoof Bleak Expectations), is a delightfully tongue-in-cheek hat tip to the master author.

Although the hat tip is ever so slight.

Any resemblance to a Dickens novel ends at the peculiar names, 19th century setting and a plot in which humble folk who have fallen on hard times accumulate great wealth with relative ease.

Bleak Old Shop features Robert Webb (Peep Show) as Jedrington Secret-Past, a local shop owner who signs a suspiciously too-good-to-be-true business deal with the mysterious Harmswell Grimstone played by Tim McInnery (Captain Darling from Blackadder).

The comedy is daft and plentiful and introduces a cracking little gadget called the Mechanical French Hater – a small windup box that plays Rule Britannia before raspberrying as a pair of Union Jack painted fingers pop up in a xenophobic salute to our French cousins.

Anyway, there were great expectations from this series which followed on from the hour-long festive special.

In this, the first of a three-part mini-series, Jedrington and his wife Conceptiva Katherine Parkinson (The IT Crowd), following their nefarious deal with Grimstone, are rolling in more money than they ever dreamed of.

Cue a series of ridiculous examples of being rich, such as massively oversized broadsheet papers, malevolent boarding schools and bathing in jam, to epitomise the family's new wealth.

Meanwhile, in a twist to the plot, the sceptical Conceptiva is also receiving a series of cryptic messages threatening to reveal her secret past – a secret so horrible she would rather take her own life than live with it.

She heads to End-it-all Dock, where Grimstone and his manservant, Pussweasle, are waiting to cast her into the murky waters.

The gags come thick and fast with mocking references to shows such as The Apprentice and features an abundance of monstrous sideburns, words like "platyhelminth" and top hats.

It's farcical, childish and surreal in places and I'm sure Dickensian puritans see it as a total insult, but I thoroughly enjoyed it and feel no shame in wanting seconds.

As a historically accurate depiction of Victorian Britain, it could have come from a child's history of England, but as a comedy it'll have you coming back for more.