Here is a preview of some of the programmes you'll be able to see coming shortly on BBC Television.
To kick off with there's variety...
Peter West and Brian Johnston star in 'Rain Stopped Play',
a whacky new comedy series about the gay exploits of 2 television cricket commentators
with E. W. Swanton as Aggie the kooky Scots maid.
For those of you who don't like variety,
there's variety, with Brian Close at the Talk of the Town.
And of course there'll be sport.
The Classics series return to BBC 2
with 26 episodes of John Galsworthy's 'Snooker My Way'
with Nyree Dawn Porter repeating her triumph as Joe Davis.
And of course there'll be sport.
Comedy is not forgotten
with Jim Laker in 'Thirteen Weeks of Off-spin Bowling'.
Jim plays the zany bachelor bowler in a new series of 'Owzat',
with Anneley Brummond-Haye on Mr Softee as his wife...
And of course there'll be sport.
'Panorama' will be returning, introduced as usual by Tony Jacklin,
and Lulu will be tackling the Old Man of Hoy.
And for those of you who prefer drama - there's sport.
On 'Show of the Week' Kenneth Wostenholme sings.
And for those of you who don't like television there's David Coleman.
And of course there'll be sport.
But now for something completely different - sport.
God Blimey! Look what we've found!
It really is fantastic.
Gentlemen, from this single part and months of painstaking research,
we have been able to accurately reconstruct this entire beast.
Hello. On 'Archaeology Today' tonight I have with me Professor Lucien Kastner of Oslo University.
Good evening.
- How tall are you, professor? - ... I beg your pardon?
- How tall are you? - I'm about 5 foot 10.
And an expert in Egyptian tomb paintings. Sir Robert... are you really 5 foot 10?
Funny, you look much shorter than that to me.
Are you slumped forward in your chair at all? Extraordinary.
Sir Robert Eversley, who's just returned from the excavations at El Ara,
and you must be well over 6 foot. Isn't that right, Sir Robert?
Yes.
- In fact I think you're 6 foot 5, aren't you? - Yes.
Oh, that's marvelous.
I mean you're a totally different kind of specimen to Professor Kastner.
Straight in your seat, erect, firm.
Yes. I thought we were here to discuss archaeology.
Yes, yes, of course we are, yes, absolutely, you're absolutely right!
That's positive thinking for you.
You wouldn't have said a thing like that, would you? You 5 foot 10 inch weed.
Sir Robert Eversley, who's very interesting,
what have you discovered in the excavations at El Ara?
Well basically we have found a complex of tombs...
Very good speaking voice.
...which present dramatic evidence of Polynesian influence
in Egypt in the third dynasty which is quite remarkable.
- How tall were the Polynesians? - They were...
Well, they were rather small, seafaring...
- Short men, were they... eh? All squat and bent up? - Well, I really don't know about that...
Who were the tall people? Who's that very tall tribe in Africa?
- Well, this is hardly archaeology. - The Watutsi! That's it - the Watutsi!
Oh, that's the tribe, some of them were 8 foot tall.
Can you imagine that. 8 foot of Watutsi!
Not one on another's shoulders, oh no - 8 foot of solid Watutsi.
That's what I call tall.
- But it's nothing to do with archaeology. - Oh to hell with archaeology!
Can I please speak! I came all the way from Oslo to do this program!
I'm a professor of archaeology.
I'm an expert in ancient civilizations.
All right, I'm only 5 foot 10.
All right my posture is bad, all right I slump in my chair.
But I've had more women than either of you two!
I've had half bloody Norway, that's what I've had!
So you can keep your Robert Eversley! And you can keep your bloody Watutsi!
I'd rather have my little body...
my little 5-foot-10-inch body...
- Bloody fool. Look what you've done to him. - Don't bloody fool me.
I'll do what I like, because I'm 6 foot 5
and I eat punks like you for breakfast.
I'll get you for that, Eversley!
I'll get you if I have to travel to the four corners of the earth!
The dig was going well that year,
We had discovered some Hittite baking dishes from the 5th dynasty,
and Sir Robert was happier than I had ever seen him.
Today I hear the robin sing
Today the thrush is on the wing
Today who knows what life will bring
Today...
Why,
a Sumerian drinking vessel of the 4th dynasty.
Today!!!
Catalogue this pot, Danielle, it's 4th dynasty.
- Oh, is it... ? - Yes, it's... Sumerian.
Oh, how wonderful! Oh, I am so happy for you.
I'm happy too,
now at last we know there was a Sumerian influence here in Abu Simnel
in the early pre-dynastic period,
2000 years before the reign of Tutankhamun,
Today I hear the robin sing
Today the thrush is on the wing
Today who knows what life will bring.
All right Eversley, get up out of that trench.
Don't forget... I'm 6 foot 5.
That doesn't worry me...
- Kastner! - Here, Lord.
Up!
- 11 foot 3! - I'm so tall! I am so tall!
Danielle!
11 foot 6 - damn you! Abdul
15 foot 4! Mustapha!
19 foot 3... damn you!
And there we end this edition of 'Archaeology Today'.
Next week, the Silbury Dig
by Cole Porter with Pearl Bailey and Arthur Negus.
And now an appeal for sanity from the Reverend Arthur Belling.
You know, there are many people in the country today who, through no fault of their own, are sane.
Some of them were born sane.
Some of them became sane later in their lives.
It is up to people like you and me
who are out of our tiny little minds
to try and help these people overcome their sanity.
You can start in small ways
with ping-pong ball eyes and a funny voice
and then you can paint half of your body red and the other half green
and then you can jump up and down in a bowl of treacle going 'squawk, squawk, squawk...'
And then you can go 'Neurhhh! Neurhh!'
and then you can roll around on the floor going 'pting pting pting'...
The Reverend Arthur Belling is Vicar of St Loony Up The Cream Bun and Jam.
And now an appeal on behalf of the National Trust.
Good evening. My name is Leapy Lee.
No, sorry. That's the name of me favourite singer.
My name is Mrs Fred Stone.
No, no, Mrs Fred Stone is the wife of me favourite tennis player.
My name is Bananas. No, no, that's me favourite fruit.
I'm Mrs 'Nice evening out at the pictures then perhaps a dance at a club and back to his place for a quick cup of coffee and little bit of...'
No, sorry, that's me favourite way of spending a night out.
Perhaps I am Leapy Lee? Yes! I must be Leapy Lee!
Hello fans! Leapy Lee here! 'Little arrows that will...'
Hello? ...
Evidently I'm not Leapy Lee. I thought I probably wouldn't be.
Thank you, I'll tell them. Hello. Hello, Denis Compton here.
No... I should have written it down. Now where's that number?
I'm Mao Tse Tung... I'm P. P. Arnold...
I'm Margaret Thatcher... I'm Sir Gerald Nabarro...
Hello? Sir Len Hutton here.
Could you tell me, please ... Oh, am I? Oh, thank you.
Good evening. I'm Mrs What-number-are-you-dialing-please?
- Good morning. - Good morning.
- Are you the registrar? - I have that function.
I was here on Saturday, getting married to a blond girl, and I'd like to change please.
- I'd like to have this one instead please. - What do you mean?
Er, well, the other one wasn't any good, so I'd like to swap it for this one, please.
Er, I have paid. I paid on Saturday.
- Here's the ticket. - Ah, no. That was when you were married.
Er, yes. That was when I was married to the wrong one. I didn't like the colour. This is the one I want to have, so if you could just change the forms round
- I can take this one back with me now. - I can't do that. - Look, make it simpler, I'll pay again.
No, you can't do that.
Look, all I want you to do is change the wife, say the words, blah, blah, back to my place, no questions asked.
- I'm sorry sir, but we're not allowed to change. - You can at Harrods.
You can't.
- You can. I changed my record player and there wasn't a grumble. - It's different.
And I changed my pet snake, and I changed my Robin Day tie.
Well, you can't change a bloody wife!
Oh, all right! Well, can I borrow one for the weekend?
- No! - Oh, blimey, I only wanted a jolly good...
All right, break it up. What's your number, then?
- All right. Name? - Cook.
- Next please. Name? - Er, Watson.
- Mr Watson. - Ah, no, Doctor.
- Ah, Mr Doctor. - No, not Mr, Doctor.
- Oh, Doctor Doctor. - No, Doctor Watson.
- Oh, Doctor Watson Doctor. - Oh, just call me darling.
- Hello, Mr Darling. - No, Doctor.
Hello Doctor Darling.
But at Wembley, play had resumed.
Meanwhile, nearby, the day was just beginning
for Mugsy Spaniel, a convicted gangster and well known swell guy.
- Thank you, dear.
Happy birthday, Muggsy!
Yes indeed, this was the work of none other than Eggs Diamond, leader of the notorious Chicken gang.
Dinsdale!
With the Chicken gang, a man's life was not worth the paper it was printed on.
Already, there have been murders commited here and here, and the latest one right here.
He's right, you know...
The powerful forces Eggs had loosed on the city would be his undoing.
We turn now to the hideout.
These and other fantastic lies are yours for the reading
in this beautifully-bound volume.
Buy now, suckers! This is an ideal gift.
A must for all you out there who long to sound clever at your next cocktail party.
Ah, John. Allow me to introduce my next-door neighbour.
John Stokes, this is A Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Git. Ah!
Hello, I noticed a slight look of anxiety cross your face for a moment just then, but you needn't worry
I'm used to it. That's the trouble of having a surname like Git.
We did think once of having it changed by deed-poll, you know - to Watson or something like that.
But A Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Watson's just as bad, eh?
- Yes, yes, I suppose so. - Oh, that's my wife.
Darling! Come and meet Mr... what was it?
Stokes - John Stokes.
Oh yes. John Stokes, this is my wife, Dreary Fat Boring Old.
- Oh, er, how do you do. - How do you do.
- Darling, there you are! - Yes, yes, here I am, yes.
- Oh, is this your wife? - Yes, yes, yes, this is the wife, yes.
Um darling, these, these are the Gits.
- What? - The Gits.
Oh, heaven's sakes we are being formal. Does it have to be surnames?
Oh, no, no. Not at all. No.
Um, no, this... this... this is my wife Norah, er, Norah Jane,
Norah Jane Stokes.
This is Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Git
and this is his wife Dreary Fat Boring Old Git.
I was just telling your husband what an awful bore it is having a surname like Git.
OH Oh well, it's not that bad.
You've no idea how the kids get taunted.
Why, only last week Dirty Lying Little Two-Faced came running home from school, sobbing his eyes out,
and our youngest, Ghastly Spotty Horrible Vicious Little
is just at the age when taunts like 'she's a git' really hurt. Yes.
Do ... do you live round here?
Yes, we live up the road, number 49 - you can't miss it.
We've just had the outside painted with warm pus.
- Oh. - Yes. It's very nice actually.
It goes nicely with the vomit and catarrh we've got smeared all over the front door.
- I think we ought to be going. We have two children to collect. - Oh, bring them round for tea tomorrow.
It's Ghastly Spotty Cross-Eyed's birthday and she's having a disembowelling party for a few friends.
The Nauseas will be there, and Doug and Janice Mucus, and the Rectums from Swanage.
John! Allow me to introduce our next-door neighhour.
John, this is Mr Watson.
Hello. I noticed a slight look of anxiety cross your face just then but you needn't worry.
I preferred the dirty version.
Well, I've been a hunter all my life.
I love animals. That's why I like to kill 'em.
I wouldn't kill an animal I didn't like.
Goodday Roy.
Hank and Roy Spim are tough, fearless backwoodsmen
who have chosen to live in a violent, unrelenting world of nature's creatures,
where only the fittest survive. Today they are off to hunt mosquitoes.
The mosquito's a clever little bastard.
You can track him for days and days until you really get to know him like a friend.
He knows you're there, and you know he's there.
It's a game of wits.
You hate him, then you respect him, then you kill him.
Suddenly Hank spots the mosquito they're after.
Now more than ever, they must rely on the skills they have learnt from a lifetime's hunting.
Hank gauges the wind.
Roy examines the mosquito's spoor.
Then ...
It's a success. The mosquito now is dead.
But Roy must make sure.
There's nothing more dangerous than a wounded mosquito.
But the hunt is not over.
With well practised skill Hank skins the mosquito.
The wings of a fully grown male mosquito can in fact fetch anything
up to .8 of a penny on the open market.
The long day is over
and it's back to base camp for a night's rest.
Here, surrounded by their trophies
Roy and Hank prepare for a much tougher ordeal - a moth hunt.
Well, I follow the moth in the helicopter to lure it away from the flowers,
and then Roy comes along in the Lockheed Starfighter
and attacks it with air-to-air missiles.
A lot of people have asked us why we don't use fly spray.
Well, where's the sport in that?
For Roy, sport is everything.
Ever since he lost his left arm battling with an ant,
Roy has risked his life in the pursuit of tiny creatures.
But it's not all work
and for relaxation they like nothing more than a day's fishing.
Wherever there is a challenge, Hank and Roy Spim will be there
ready to carry on the primordial struggle between man
and inoffensive, tiny insects.
Oh, I've had such a morning in the High Court.
I could stamp my little feet the way those QC's carry on.
- Don't I know it, love. - 'Objection' here, 'objection' there!
And that nice policeman giving his evidence so well
beautiful speaking voice ...
- well after a bit all I could do was bang my little gavel. - You what, love?
I banged me gavel. I did me 'silence in court' bit.
Ooh! If looks could kill that prosecuting counsel would be in for 30 years.
- How did your summing up go? - Well, I was quite pleased actually.
I was trying to do my butch voice, you know, 'what the jury must understand', and they loved it, you know.
- I could see that foreman eyeing me. - Really?
- Yes, cheeky devil. - Was he that tall man with that very big... ?
No, just a minute.
I must finish you know. Anyway, I finished up with 'the actions of these vicious men is a violent stain
on the community and the full penalty of the law is scarcely sufficient
to deal with their ghastly crimes',
and I waggled my wig! Just ever so slightly, but it was a stunning effect.
Oh, I bet it was... like that super time I wore that striped robe in the Magistrates Court.
Oh, aye.
- Hello, Mrs Thing. - Hello, Mrs Entity.
- How are you then? - Oh, I have had a morning.
- Busy? - Busy - huh!
I got up at 5 o'dock, I made myself a cup of tea, I looked out of the window.
Well, by then I was so worn out I had to come and have a sit-down.
- I've been here for 7 hours. - You must be exhausted.
- Mm. Oh, have you been shopping? - No, I've been shopping.
Funny.
I'm worn out. I've been shopping for 6 hours
- What have you bought, then? - Nothing. Nothing at all.
- A complete waste of time. - Wicked, isn't it?
Wicked. It'll be worse when we join the Common Market.
- That nice Mr Heath would never allow that. - It's funny he never married.
- He's a bachelor. - Oooh! That would explain it.
Oh dear me, this chatting away wears me out.
Yes. I bet Mrs Reginald Maudling doesn't have to put up with all this drudgery,
getting up at 5 in the morning, making a cup of tea, looking out of the window, chatting away.
No! It'd all be done for her.
Yes, she'd have the whole day free for playing snooker.
She probably wouldn't go through all the drudgery of playing snooker, day in, day out.
No, it would all be done for her. She wouldn't even have to lift the cue.
She probably doesn't even know where the billlard room is.
No, still, it's not as bad as the old days.
Mrs Stanley Baldwin used to have to get up at 5 o'clock in the morning
and go out and catch partridges with her bare hands.
Yes... and Mrs William Pitt the Elder used to have to get up at 3 o'clock
and go burrowing for truffles with the bridge of her nose.
Mrs Beethoven used to have to get up at midnight to spur on the mynah bird.
Lazy creatures, mynah birds...
Yes. When Beethoven went deaf the mynah bird just used to mime.
- Ooh! What's happening? - It's all right. It's only a flashback.
You don't fool me, you stupid mynah bird. I'm not deaf yet.
Just you wait... ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
- Oh! Bugger... - Shut up!
Shut your beak. Gott in Himmel...
I never get any peace here.
- Ludwig! - What?
- Have you seen the sugar bowl? - No, I haven't seen the bloody sugar bowl.
- You know ... the sugar bowl. - Sod the sugar bowl...
I'm trying to finish this stinking tune!
It's driving me spare ... so shut up!
No, no, no...
Ludwig, have you seen the jam spoon?
Stuff the jam spoon!
- It was in the sugar bowl. - Look, get out you old rat-bag. Buzz off and shut up.
- I don't know what you see in that piano. - Leave me alone!
Ha! ha! ha! I've done it, I've done it!
Do you want peanut butter or sandwich spread for your tea?
- What!!!! - PEANUT BUTTER...
- I've forgotten it. I had it! I had it! - Do you want peanut butter or sandwich spread?
- I don't care! - Oooh! I don't know.
I had it. I had it you old bag.
Mein lieber Gott. What are you doing?
- What's that! What's that! - It's the plumber!
Gott in Himmel, I'm going out.
Well, if you're going out don't forget we've got the Mendelssohns coming for tea
so don't forget to order some pikelets.
Pikelets, pikelets. Shakespeare never had this trouble.
You wanna bet?
Incidentally, it's ...
You're right. Oh, incidentally, why not call him Hamlet?
Hamlet? I like much better than David.
Michelangelo! You can use David. I won't sue.
Thanks, but I've had a better idea.
- Michelangelo! - Yes, dear!
- I've had another son. - Oh, my life.
Composer?
Huh! I wouldn't wish it on my son. He's a sensitive boy, already.
I'd rather he was a sewage attendant or a ratcatcher.
Aha! Rats at 42a Kartoffelnstrasse.
- Hey Mitzi! I gotta go to Potato Street. - Put your galoshes on.
Depressed by rats? Do mice get you down?
Then why not visit Colin Mozart's Rodent Exterminating Boutique.
Rats extirpated, mice punished,
voles torn apart by Colin Mozart,
Munich's leading furry animal liquidator.
- Yes? - Colin Mozart.
Oh, thank goodness you've come. We're having a terrible time with them bleeding rats.
I think they live in his stupid piano already.
Get out the bloody piano you stupid furry bucktoothed gits! Get out!
Gott in Himmel! Get your stinking tail out of my face.
Shut up!
So anyway, Beethoven was rather glad when he went deaf.
Well, I was ever so glad they abolished hanging, you know, because that black cap just didn't suit me.
- Do you remember the Glasgow treason trial? - Oh yes, I wore a body stocking all through it.
- No, hen, with the party afterwards. - Oh, that's right. You were walking out with that very butch Clerk of the Court.
That's right. Ooh, he made me want to turn Queen's evidence.
Oh, me too. One summing up and I'm anybody's.
- Anyway, Bailie Anderson. - Ooh, her?
Yes. She's so strict. She was on at me for giving dolly sentences, you know,
specially in that arson case.
- What was the verdict? - They preferred the brown wig.
Mm. I love the Scottish Assizes. I know what they mean by a really well-hung jury.
Ooh! Get back in the witness box,
you're too sharp to live!
Have you tried that new body rub JP's use?
I had a magistrate in Bradford yesterday.
Funnily enough I felt like one in a lunchtime recess today.
But the ones I really like are those voice over announcers
on the BBC after the programs are over.
- Oh, aye, of course, they're as bent as safety pins. - I know, but they've beautiful speaking voices, haven't they?
'And now a choice of viewing on BBC Television.'
'Here are tonight's football results.'