In the 5th century, as the once-mighty Roman Empire crumbled,
the soft underbelly of Western Europe lay invitingly exposed to the barbarian hordes to the East.
Alaric the Visigoth, Galseric the Vandal and Theodoric the Ostrogoth in turn
swept westward in a reign of terror.
But none surpassed in power and cruelty the mighty Attila the Hun.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's the 'The Attila the Hun Show'.
In the second quarter of the 5th century, the Huns became a byword for merciless savagery.
Their Khan was the mighty warrior Attila.
With his devastating armies he swept across Central Europe.
Oh darling, I'm home.
Hello darling. Had a busy day at the office?
Not at all bad. Another merciless sweep across Central Europe.
I won't say I'm glad to see you, but boy, am I glad to see you.
Hi, daddy.
Hi, Jenny, hi, Robby.
Hey, I've got a present for you two kids
in that bag.
I want you kids to get a-head.
Hear you are, Mr Hun!
Hi, Uncle Tom.
There's a whole horde of them marauding Visigoths
to see y'all.
And now for something completely different.
It's ...
Yes, it's Attila the Nun.
A simple country girl who took a vow of eternal brutality.
Nurse!
- Hello, Miss Norris. How are you? - Not too bad, thank you, doctor.
Yes, well I think I'd better examine you.
- What are they doing here? - It's all right, they're students.
Um... lights please, nurse.
Oh... and... er... music, too.
Breathe in ... out ...
in ... out...
Thank you, thank you. Charles Crompton, the Stripping Doctor.
And next, gentlemen and ladies, here at the Peephole Club for the very first time
a very big welcome for the Secretary of State for Commonwealth Affairs.
Good evening. Tonight I'd like to restate our position on agricultural subsidies,
and their effect on our Commonwealth relationships.
Now although we believe, theoretically, in ending guaranteed farm prices,
we also believe in the need for a corresponding import levy
to maintain consumer prices at a realistic level.
But this would have the effect of consolidating our gains of the previous fiscal year, prior to the entry.
But I pledge that should we join the Common Market
even maintaining the present position on subsidies
we will never jeopardize, we will
never compromise our unique relationship with the Commonwealth countries.
A prices structure related to any import charges
will be systematically adjusted to the particular requirements
of our Commonwealth partners,
so that together we will maintain a positive,
and mutually beneficial alliance in world trade and for world peace.
Thank you and goodnight.
Wasn't he marvellous?
The Secretary of State for Commonwealth Affairs!
And now gentlemen and ladies, a very big welcome please
for the Minister of Pensions and Social Security!
Yes, today in Britain there is a new wave of interest in politics and politicians.
Well, we're just in it for the lobbying, you know. We just love lobbying.
And the debates, you know a good debate is just... fabulous.
Well, I've been going with ministers for five years now and, you know...
I think they're wonderful.
- Oh yes, I like civil servants. - Oh yes, they're nice.
- I like the Speaker. - Oh yes.
I like Black Rod.
What do their parents think?
Well she's broken our hearts, the little bastard.
She's been nothing but trouble and if she comes round here again I'll kick her teeth in.
- Have you been talking to television again, dear? - Yes, I bloody told 'em.
- What about? - I dunno.
- Was it Reginald Bosanquet? - No, no, no.
- Did he have his head all bandaged? - No, it wasn't like that. They had lots of lights and cameras and tape recorders and all that sort of thing.
Oh, that'll be Ray Baxter and the boys and girls from 'Tomorrow's World'.
Oh, I prefer Reginald Bosanquet, there's not so many of them.
Oh - that'll be the ratcatcher.
- Hello - Mr and Mrs Concrete? - Yes.
Well, well, well, how very nice. Allow me to introduce myself.
I am Leslie Ames, the Chairman of the Test Selection Committee, and I'm very pleased to be able
to tell you that your flat has been chosen as the venue
for the 3rd test against the West Indies.
- Really? - No, it was just a little joke.
- Actually, I am the Council Ratcatcher. - Oh yes, we've been expecting you.
Oh, I gather you've got a little rodental problem.
Oh, blimey. You'd think he was awake all the night, scrabbling down by the wainscotting.
Um, that's an interesting word, isn't it? Wainscotting ... Wainscotting ...
sounds like a little Dorset village, Wainscotting.
We've been mentioned on telly!
- Now, where is it worst? - Down here. You can usually hear them.
No, that's sheep you've got there. No, that's definitely sheep. A bit of a puzzle, really.
Yeah, well, I mean it's (a) not going to respond to a nice piece of cheese and
- (b) it isn't going to fit into a trap. - Oh - what are you going to do?
Well, we'll have to look for the hole.
- Oh yeah. There's one here. - No, no, that's mice.
Ah, this is what we're after.
- Excuse me, is the 3rd test in here? - No - that was a joke - a joke!
Right. I'm going in the wainscotting.
They said it again.
I'm going to lay down some sheep poison.
- Aagh. Ooh! It's got a gun! - Blimey.
Normally a sheep is a placid, timid creature, but you've got a killer.
It's an entirely new strain of sheep,
a killer sheep that can not only hold a rifle but is also a first-class shot.
But where are they coming from, professor?
That I don't know. I just don't know.
I really just don't know.
I'm afraid I really just don't know.
I'm afraid even I really just don't know.
I have to tell you I'm afraid even I really just don't know.
I'm afraid I have to tell you... Thank you.
I don't know. Our only clue is this portion of wolf's clothing
- which the killer sheep ... - ... was wearing ...
- ... in yesterday's raid on Selfridges. - I'll carry out tests on it straight away, professor.
Hello, is the third test in here, please?
Professor, there are some cricketers in the laboratory.
This may be even more serious than even I had at first been imagining.
What a strange... strange line.
There's no time to waste, get me the Chief Commissioner of Police.
No, no, on the phone.
Look of fear!
Another strange line. Look out, Miss Carter Oil!
- What is it? What have you seen? - Look - there, in the doorway.
Arthur X! Leader of the Pennine Gang!
Nobody move!
Put plan A into operation. Move out!
Next, Basil, you and the kid. Move!
Ok boys, this time we go for the heavy stuff.
But soon the killer sheep began to infect other animals with its startling intelligence.
Pussy cats began to arrange mortgages, cocker spaniels began to design supermarkets...
And parrots started to announce television programmes.
It's 8 o'clock and time for the News.
Good evening. Here is the news for Parrots.
No parrots were involved in an accident on the M1 today
when a lorry carrying high-octane fuel was in collision with a bollard.
That is a bollard and not a parrot.
A spokesman for parrots said he was glad no parrots were involved.
The Minister of Technology today met the three Russian leaders
to discuss a £4 million airliner deal.
None of them went in the cage, or swung on the little wooden trapeze
or ate any of the nice millet seed yum, yum.
That's the end of the news, now our programs for parrots continue with part 3 of 'A Tale of Two Cities',
specially adapted for parrots by Joey Boy.
The story so far, Dr. Manette is in England after 18 years in the Bastille.
His daughter Lucy awaits her lover Charles Darney, who we have just learned
is in fact the nephew of the Marquis de St Evremond,
whose cruelty had placed Manette in the Bastille.
Darney arrives to find Lucy tending her aged father.
'Allo, 'allo...
And while that's going on, here is the news for gibbons. No gibbons were involved in...
And while that's going on, here from Westminster is a parliamentary report for Humans.
In the debate, a spokesman accused the goverment of being silly and doing not at all good things.
The member accepted this in the spirit of healthy criticism,
but denied that he had ever been naughty with a choir boy.
Angry shouts of 'What about the Watermelon then?' were ordered then
by the speaker to be stricken from the record and put into a brown paper bag in the lavvy.
Any further interruptions would be cut off and distributed amongst the poor.
For the Government, a front-bench spokesman said the Agricultural Tariff would have to be raised, and he fancied a bit.
Futhermore, he argued, this would give
a large boost to farmers, and a lot of fun for him, his friends, and Miss Moist of Knightsbridge.
From the back benches there were opposition shouts of 'Postcards for sale'
and a healthy cry of 'Who likes a sailor then?' from the minister without portfolio.
Replying, the Shadow Minister said he could no longer deny the rumors,
but he and the Dachshund were very happy.
And in any case he argued Rhubarb was cheap, and what was the harm in a sauna bath?
The Minister of Technology met the 3 Russian leaders
today to discuss a £4 million airliner deal...
None of them were indigenous to Australia, carried their babies in pouches, or ate any
of those yummy Eucalyptus leaves. Yum Yum!
Thats the news for wombats, and now Attila the Bun!
Well that's all for Attila the Bun, and now - idiots!
Arthur Figgis is an idiot. A village idiot.
Tonight we look at the idiot in society.
Well I feel very keenly that the idiot is a part of the old village system,
and as such has a vital role to play in a modern rural society, because you see
Ooh ar thankee, Vicar.
There is this very real need in society for someone
whom almost anyone can look down on and ridicule.
And this is the role that...
Thank you, Mrs Thompson...
this is the role that I
and members of my family have fulfilled in this village for the past 400 years...
Good morning, Mr Jenkins, ICI have increased their half-yearly dividend, I see.
Yes, splendid.
That's Mr Jenkins - he's another idiot.
And so you see the idiot does provide a vital psycho-social service for this community.
Oh, excuse me, a coach party has just arrived. I shall have to fall off the wall, I'm afraid.
Arthur takes idiotting seriously.
He is up at 6 o'clock every morning working on special training equipment designed to keep him silly.
And of course he takes great pride in his appearance.
Like the doctor, the blacksmith, the carpenter,
Mr Figgis is an important figure in this village
and, like them, he uses the local bank.
Yes, we have quite a number of idiots banking here.
What kind of money is there in idioting?
Well nowadays a really blithering idiot can make anything up to £10 000 pounds a year
if he's the head of some big industrial combine.
But of course, the more old-fashioned idiot still refuses to take money.
He takes bits of string, wood, dead budgerigars,
sparrows, anything, but it does make the cashier's job very difficult;
but of course they're fools to themselves because the rate of interest over 10 years
on a piece of moss or a dead vole is almost negligible.
Mr Brando. Hollywood on the phone.
I'll take it in the office.
But Mr Figgis is no ordinary idiot.
He is a lecturer in idiocy at the University of East Anglia.
Here he is taking a class of third-year students.
After three years of study these apprentice idiots
receive a diploma of idiocy,
a handful of mud
and a kick on the head.
But some of the older idiots resent the graduate idiot.
I'm a completely self-taught idiot.
I mean... nobody does that anymore. Anybody who did that round here would be laughed off the street.
No, nowadays people want something wittier.
Kevin O'Nassis works largely with walls.
You've got to know what you're doing. I mean, some people think I'm mad.
The villagers say I'm mad, the tourists say I'm mad.
Well I am mad, but I'm naturally mad. I don't use any chemicals.
But what of the idiot's private life? How about his relationship with women?
Well I may be an idiot but I'm no fool.
But the village idiot's dirty smock and wall-falling
are a far cry from the modern world of the urban idiot.
What kinds of backgrounds do these city idiots come from?
I can't remember but I've got it written down some where.
Daddy's a banker. He needed a wastepaper basket.
Father was Home Secretary and mother won the Derby.
The headquarters of these urban idiots is here in St John's Wood.
Inside they can enjoy the company of other idiots
and watch special performances of ritual idioting.
Well left.
Well played.
Well well.
Well bred.
Good afternoon and welcome to Lords on the second day of the first test.
So far today we've had 5 hours batting from England and already they're nought for nought.
Cowdrey is not out nought. Naughton is not in. Knott is in and is nought for not out.
Naughton of Northants got a nasty knock on the nut in the nets last night but it's nothing of note.
Next in is Nat Newton of Notts.
Not Nutring - Nutting's at nine, er, Nutring knocked neatie nighty knock knock...
anyway England have played extremely well for nothing, not a sausage,
in reply to Iceland's first innings total of 722 for 2 declared, scored yesterday disappointingly fast in only 21 overs
with lots of wild slogging and boundaries and all sorts of rubbishy things.
But the main thing is that England have made an absolutely outstanding start so far,
- Peter? - Splendid. Just listen to those thighs.
And now it's the North East's turn with the Samba. Brian.
Rather. I'm reminded of the story of Gubby Allen in '32...
Oh, shut up or we'll close the bar.
And now Bo Wildeburg is running up to bowl to Cowdrey, he runs up, he bowls to Cowdrey...
... and no shot at all. Extremely well not played there.
Yes, beautifully not done anything about.
A superb shot of no kind whatsoever.
I well remember Plum Warner leaving a very similar ball alone in 1732.
Oh shut up, long nose.
And now it's Bo Wildeburg running in again to bowl to Cowdrey, he runs in.
He bowls to Cowdrey, and no shot at all, a superb display of inertia there...
- That's the end of the over, and drinks. - Gin and tonic please.
No, no, the players are having drinks.
And now, what's happening? I think Cowdrey's being taken off.
Yes, Cowdrey is being carried off. Well I never. Now who's in next,
it should be number 3, Natt Newton of Notts. Get your hand off my thigh, West...
No I don't think it is... I think it's er, it's the sofa.
No it's the Chesterfield! The green Chesterfield is coming in at number 3 to take guard now.
I well remember a similar divan being brought on at Headingley in 9 BC against the darkies.
Oh, shut up, elephant snout. And now the green Chesterfield has taken guard
and Iceland are putting on their spin dryer to bowl.
The spin dryer moves back to his mark, it runs out to the wicket, bowls to the table...
a little bit short but it's coming in a bit there and it's hit him on the pad.
And the table is out, leg before wicket.
That is England nought for one.
And now we leave Lords and go over to Epsom for the 3 o'clock.
Well here at Epsom we take up the running with 50 yards of this mile and a half race to go
and it's the wash basin in the lead from WC Pedestal. Tucked in nicely
there is the sofa going very well with Joanna Southcott's box making a good run from hat stand on the rails, and the standard lamp is failing fast
but it's wash basin definitely taking up the running now being strongly pressed by
At the post it's the wash basin from WC then sofa, hat stand, standard lamp and lastly Joanna Southcott's box.
Open the box! Open the box!
And could we have the next contender, please?
- Good evening, madam, and your name is? - Yes, yes...
- And what's your name? - I go to church regularly.
Jolly good, I see, which prize do you have particular eyes on this evening?
- I'd like the blow on the head. - The blow on the head.
- Just there. - Jolly good. Well your first question for the blow on the head this evening is:
What great opponent of Cartesian dualism
resists the reduction of psychological phenomena to physical states?
- I don't know that! - Well, have a guess.
- Henri Bergson. - Is the correct answer!
- Ooh, that was lucky. I never even heard of him. - Jolly good.
I don't like darkies.
Ha ha ha. Who does?
And now your second question for the blow on the head is: What is the main food that penguins eat?
- Pork luncheon meat. - No.
- Spam? - No, no. What do penguins eat? Penguins.
Penguins? I hate penguins.
- They eat themselves. - No, no, what do penguins eat?
- Horses! ... Armchairs! - No, no, no. What do penguins eat?
- Oh, penguins. Cannelloni. - No.
Lasagna, moussaka, lobster thermidor,
escalopes de veau à l'estragon avec endives gratinées with cheese.
No, no, no, no. I'll give you a clue.
- Ah, Brian Close. - No.
Brian Inglis, Brian Johnson, Bryan Forbes.
- Nanette Newman. - No. What swims in the sea and gets caught in nets?
- Henri Bergson. - No.
Goats. Underwater goats with snorkels and flippers. A buffalo with an aqualung.
- Reginald Maudling. - Yes, that's near enough. I'll give you that.
Now, Mrs Scum, you have won your prize, do you still want the blow on the head?
- Yes, yes. - I'll offer you a poke in the eye.
- No! I want a blow on the head. - A punch in the throat? - No.
- All right then, a kick in the kneecap? - No.
- Mrs Scum, I'm offering you a boot in the teeth and a dagger up the strap? - Err...
(Blow on the head! Take the blow on the head!) - No, no. I'll take the blow on the head.
Very well then, Mrs Scum, you have won tonight's star prize, the blow on the head.
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.'
And now for something completely different.
It's...
Monty python's flying circus.
How to recognize different parts of the body.
Number one:the foot.
Number two:the shoulder.
And number three: the other foot.
Number four: the bridge of the nose.
Number five: the naughty bits.
Number six: just above the elbow.
Number seven:
Two inches to the right of a very naughty bit indeed.
Number eight:the kneecap.
Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
Under the shade of a coolibah-tree...
Goodday, bruce!
Oh, hello, bruce.
How are yer, bruce?
Bit crook, bruce.
Where's bruce?
He's not here, bruce.
Blimey, s'hot in here, bruce.
S'hot enough to boil a monkey's bum.
That's a strange expression, bruce.
Well, bruce, I heard the prime minister use it.
"s'hot enough to boil a monkey's bum in 'ere
Your majesty," he said
And she smiled quietly to herself.
She's a good sheila, bruce
And not at all stuck-up.
Ah! here comes the bossfella now.
How are you, bruce?
Hello, bruce.
How are you, bruce?
Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce
A chap from pommy land
Who'll be joining us this year
Here in the philosophy department
Of the university of woolamaloo.
Uh, michael baldwin, this is bruce.
Michael baldwin, this is bruce.
Is your name not bruce, then?
No, it's michael.
That's going to cause
A little confusion.
Mind if we call you "bruce"
Just to keep it clear?
Well, gentlemen
I think we'd better start the meeting.
Before we start, though
I'll ask the padre for a prayer.
O lord, we beseech thee, have mercy on our faculty, amen.
Amen.
Crack the tubes, right!
Er, bruce, I now call upon you
To welcome mr. baldwin
To the philosophy department.
I'd like to welcome
The pommy bastard to god's own earth
And I'd like to remind him
That we don't like
Stuck-up sticky-beaks here.
Hear, hear!
Well-spoken, bruce.
Now, bruce teaches classical philosophy
Bruce teaches hegelian philosophy
Bruce here teaches logical positivism
And is also in charge of the sheep-dip.
What does new bruce teach?
New bruce will be teaching political science--
Machiavelli, bentham, locke, hobbes
Sutcliffe, bradman, lindwall, miller, hassett and benaud.
Those are cricketers, bruce.
Oh, spit.
Howls of derisive laughter, bruce.
In addition, as he's going to be teaching politics
I've told him he's welcome to teach
Any of the great socialist thinkers
Provided he makes it clear that they were wrong.
Australia, australia, australia, australia
We love you, amen.
Any questions?
New bruce, are you a pooftah?
Are you a pooftah?
No.
No, right.
Well, gentlemen, I'll just remind you
Of the faculty rules.
Rule one: no pooftahs.
Rule two: no member of the faculty
Is to maltreat the abos
In any way whatsoever
If there's anyone watching.
Rule three: no pooftahs.
Rule four: I don't want to catch anyone
Not drinking in their room after lights out.
Rule five: no pooftahs.
Rule six: there is no rule six.
Rule seven: no pooftahs.
That concludes the reading of the rules.
Bruce?
This here's the wattle--
The emblem of our land.
You can stick it in a bottle
Or you can hold it in yer hand, amen.
Amen.
Gentlemen, at 6:00
I want every man-bruce of you in the sydney harbour bridge room
To take a glass of sherry with the flying philosopher, bruce
And I call upon you, padre
To close the meeting with a prayer.
Oh, lord, we beseech thee
Etc., etc., etc., amen.
Amen.
Right, let's get some sheilas.
Okay.
Ah, elevenses!
This should tide us...
This should tide us over 'til lunchtime.
Reckon so, bruce.
Sydney nolan!
What's that?
Number nine:the ear.
Number ten:the big toe.
Number 11:more naughty bits.
Number 12:the naughty bits of a lady.
Number 13:the naughty bits of a horse.
Number 14:the naughty bits of an ant.
Number 15:the naughty bits of reginald maudling.
Number 16:the hand.
Good evening.
I have with me in the studio tonight
Mr. norman st. john polevaulter
Who, for the past few years, has been contradicting people.
Mr. polevaulter, why do you contradict people?
I don't.
You told me you did.
I most certainly did not.
Oh, I see.
I'll start again.
No, you won't.
Shh!
Mr. polevaulter
I understand you don't contradict people.
Yes, I do.
When didn'tyou start
Contradicting people?
Well, I did in 1952.
1952?
1947.
23 years ago?
No.
And so on
And so on and so on.
And now...
Number 17:the top of the head.
Number 18:the feather... rare.
Number 19:the nose.
Come in.
Ah, mr. luxury yacht.
Do sit down, please.
Ah, no, no.
My name is spelled "luxury yacht"
But it's pronounced
"throatwobbler mangrove."
Ah, well, do sit down, then
Mr. throatwobbler mangrove.
Thank you.
Now, what seems to be the trouble?
Um...
I'd like you to perform some plastic surgery on me.
I see, and which particular feature of your anatomy
Is causing you distress?
Well, well, for a long time now, in fact
Even when I was a child, i... you know, whenever I left home
To catch a bus or to catch a train...
And even my tennis has suffered, actually...
Yes, to be absolutely blunt
You're worried about your enormous hooter.
No!
No?
Yes.
Yes, and you want me
To hack a bit off.
Please.
Fine.
It is a startler, isn't it?
Uh, do you mind if i, uh...?
What?
Oh, no, nothing, then.
Well, I'll just examine your nose.
Mr. luxury yacht, this, um...
This nose of yours is false.
It's made of polystyrene.
And your own hooter's a beaut.
No pruning necessary.
I'd still like the operation.
Well, you've had the operation, you strange person.
Please do an operation.
Well, all right, all right.
But only if you'll come on a camping holiday with me.
He asked me! he asked me!
Next week, we'll be showing you
How to pick up an architect, how to pull a prime minister
And how to have fun with a wholesale poulterer.
But now, the men of the derbyshire light infantry
Entertain us with a precision display of bad temper.
Attention!
My goodness me!
I am in a bad temper today!
All right, two, three, damn, damn, two, three
I am vexed and ratty, two, three
And hopping mad.
And next, the men of the second armoured division regale us
With their famous close order swanning about.
Squad... camp it up!
Ooh, get her! whoops!
I've got your number, ducky.
You couldn't afford me, dear, two, three.
I'll scratch your eyes out.
Don't come the brigadier bit with us, dear.
We all know where you've been
You military fairy.
Whoops, don't look now, girls.
The major's just minced in with that dolly color sergeant.
Two, three.
Ooh-ho!
And finally...
God, if they don't stop, I'll kill myself.
I swear, I will.
All right, that's it!
For three days and nights
The displaced eyeball plummeted earthward
Until...
Oh!
What's this?
Keep low, keep down, don't lag behind.
Come on, everybody, that's right.
Keep close, that's right.
Watch out for the killer cars.
Vroom!
Yes, the killer cars.
For years, the city had been plagued
By ever-increasing pedestrian congestion.
In an attempt to eliminate this problem
Certain fanatical cars
Had taken the law into their own hands.
Vroom, vroom!
Vroom!
V-v-vroom.
But the days of the killer cars were numbered
Thanks to the miracle of atomic mutation.
Vroom!
Oh, thank you!
You've saved our city!
But at what cost?
Oh, thank you, thank you.
You've saved our city.
Of course, there were those who chose to leave town.
This, then, is the story of two of them.
Morning, sir, can I help you?
Yes, we've booked on your flight for america.
Oh, we don't fly to america.
Oh! the american flight.
On the plane-- oh, yes.
Oh, we do that, all right.
Safe as houses, no need for panic.
Is it really 37 and six?
30 bob-- I'm robbing myself.
30 bob?
Twenty-five.
Two quid the pair of you.
That's without insurance.
Well, how much is it with insurance?
102 quid.
That's including the flight.
How long will it take?
Uh, let me put it this way-- no idea.
Six hours.
Six?
Five-- ten for the pair of you.
Oh, is it a jet?
Uh... well, no.
It's not so much a jet.
It's more your triumph herald engine with wings.
When are you taking off?
3300 hours.
What?
2600 hours for the pair of you.
What?
Have the injections, you won't care.
What injections?
Barley sugar injections; calm you down.
They're compulsory, board of trade, promise.
Oh, I don't like the sound of injections.
Hello, yes, right.
You've got to make your mind up straight away
If you're coming or not.
Yes.
Right, you can't change your mind.
I'll ring the departure lounge.
Hello?
Two more on the way, mrs. turpin.
Ah.
Now, the duty-free trolley is over there.
There's some lovely drop scones
And some duty-free broccoli
And there's fresh eccles cakes.
You're allowed 200 each on the plane.
The verrifast plane company announce
The departure of flight one to over the hills and far away.
Will passengers for flight one
Please assemble at gate one.
Passengers are advised
That there is still plenty of time
To buy eccles cakes.
Nearly ready.
Will passengers please get ready
For their barley sugar injections.
Today we all take vow.
Today we smash the enemy fleet!
We... smash... smash!
That's mr. kamikaze, the pilot.
He's very nice, really
But make sure he stays clear of battleships.
There have been many stirring tales told of the sea
And also some fairly uninteresting ones
Only marginally connected with it, like this one.
Sorry, this isn't a very good announcement, sorry.
And here is the result
Of the "where to put edward heath's statue" competition.
The winner was a mr. ivy north
Who wins ten guineas and a visit to the sailors' quarters.
That was last year's reenactment of the battle of pearl harbor
Performed by the batley townswomen's guild.
It was written, directed and produced by mrs. rita fairbanks.
Hello again.
And what are your ladies
Going to do for us this year?
Well, this year we decided to reenact
Something with a more modern flavor.
We had considered
A version of michael stewart's speech on nigeria
And there were several votes on the committee
For a staging of herr willy brandt's visit to east germany.
But we've settled instead
For a dramatization of the first heart transplant.
Incidentally, my sister madge will be playing
The plucky little springbok pioneer dr. christian barnard.
Well, off we go, then
With the batley townswomen's guild reenactment
Of the first heart transplant.
The first heart transplant.
But this is not the only open-air production here
That has used the sea.
The theatrical managers in this area
Have not been slow to appreciate
The sea's tremendous dramatic value.
And somewhere out in this bay is
The first underwater production of measure for measure.
Servant ho!
Fine.
The underwater version of measure for measure.
And further out to sea
Hello, dolly! is also doing good business.
Hello, dolly...
And over there on the oyster beds, formula two car racing.
Number 20:the armpits.
Number 21:the bottom two- thirds of the nape of the neck.
Number 22:the nipple.
And that concludes this week's episode
of how to recognize different parts of the body
adapted for radio
by ann haydon-jones and her husband, pip.
And now we present the first episode
of a new radio drama series
The death of mary queen of scots.
Part one, the beginning.
You are mary queen of scots?
I am.
Episode two of the death of mary queen of scots
can be heard on radio 4 almost immediately.
I think she's dead.
No, I'm not.
That was episode 2 of the death of mary queen of scots
adapted for the radio by bernard hollowood and brian london.
And now, radio 4 will explode.
We'll have to watch the telly, then.
Yes.
Well, what's on the television, then?
Looks like a penguin.
No, no, no, no.
I didn't mean what's on the television set
I meant what program!
Oh.
Ooh.
Tall and tan
And young and handsome
The girl from ipanema goes walking.
Funny that penguin being there, innit?
What's it doing there?
Standing.
I can see that!
If it lays an egg...
It will fall down the back
Of the television set.
We'll have to watch that.
Mmm.
Unless it's a male.
Ooh, I never thought of that.
Yes, looks fairly butch.
Perhaps it comes from next door.
Penguins don't come from next door.
They come from the antarctic!
Burma!
Why did you say "burma"?
I panicked.
Oh.
Perhaps it's from the zoo.
Which zoo?
How should I know which zoo?
I'm not dr. bloody bronowski!
How does dr. bronowski know
Which zoo it came from?
He knows everything.
Oh, I wouldn't like that.
It would take the mystery out of life.
Anyway, if it came from the zoo
It would have "property of the zoo"
Stamped on it.
No, it wouldn't.
They don't stamp animals "property of the zoo."
You couldn't stamp a huge lion.
They stamp them when they're small.
What happens when they molt?
Lions don't molt.
No, but penguins do.
There, I've run rings round you logically.
Oh, intercourse the penguin.
It's just gone 8:00
and time for the penguin on top of your television set
to explode.
How did he know that was going to happen?
It was an inspired guess.
And now...
Number 23:the shin.
Number 24: reginald maudling's shin.
Number 25:the brain.
Number 26: margaret thatcher's brain.
And number 27: more naughty bits.
Number 28:the naughty bits of the cabinet.
Number 29:the interior of a country house.
That's not a part of the body.
No, it's a link, though.
I didn't think it was very good.
No, it's the end of the series.
They must be running out of ideas.
All right, don't anybody move.
There's been a murder.
A murder?
No, no, not murder, no.
What's like a murder but begins with "b"?
Birmingham?
No, no, no, no, no.
Burnley?
Burnley, that's right.
Burnley in lancashire.
There's been a burnley.
Burglary!
Burglary.
Yes, good man.
Burglary-- that's it, of course.
There's been a burglary.
Where?
In the back, just below the rib.
No, that's murder.
Oh, no-- in the, uh, the band.
In the bat... barclays bat.
Barclays bank?
Yes, nasty business.
Got away with funt23,000.
Any clues?
Any what?
Well, any evidence as to who did it?
Any clues, eh?
Oh, we don't half talk posh, do we?
I suppose we say "ehnvelope"
And "larngerie"
And "sarndwiches on the settee."
Well, this is a murder investigation, young man
And murder is a very serious business!
I thought you said it was a burglary.
Burglary is almost as serious a business as murder.
Some burglaries are more serious than murder.
A burglary in which someone gets stabbed is murder.
So don't come these petty distinctions with me.
You're as bad as a judge.
Right! now, the first thing to do
In the event of a breach of a peace of any kind
Is to go and...
Sorry, sorry, I was miles away.
Ring the police?
Ring the police.
Yes, that's a good idea.
Get them over here fast.
No, on second thoughts
Get them over here slowly
So they don't drop anything.
Shall I make us all a cup of tea?
Make what you like, boskovitch.
It won't help you in court.
I beg your pardon?
I'm sorry, sorry.
That's the trouble with being on two cases at once.
I keep thinking I've got boskovitch cornered
Whereas in fact, I'm investigating a burnley.
Burglary.
Yes-- good man.
Who's... who's boskovitch?
Ha!
Boskovitch is a russian scientist
Who's passing information to the russians.
Classified information?
Oh, there he goes again.
"classified information"?
Oh, sitting on the settee
With our scones and our classified information?
Ah, hello, duckie.
Hello, sir, how are you?
Fine, thanks, how are you?
Well, sir
I'm a little bit moody today, sir.
Why is that, duckie?
Because...
I'm a little bit sad and lonely
Now my baby's gone away
I'm feeling kinda blue, I don't know just what to do
I feel a little sad today.
He's a little bit sad and lonely
Now his baby's gone away
He's feeling kinda blue, he don't know just what to do
He ain't feeling too good today.
When I smile
The sun comes flooding in
When I'm sad
It goes behind the clouds again
I'm a little bit sad and lonely
Well, my baby's gone away
I'm feeling kinda...
Etcetera, etcetera.
Lovely song.
And that's the final entry
La derniere entree, das final entry.
And now, guten abend.
Die scores, der scores, les scores, dei scores.
Oh, scores... ha! scores!
Yes, monaco is the winner.
Ha! monaco is the linner.
Oh, yes, man, monaco's won de big prize, bwana.
And now, here is chief inspector jean-paul zatapathique
With the winning song, once again.
And so, inspector zatapathique
The forensic expert from the monaco murder squad
Sings his song, "bing tiddle tiddle bong."
Quoi? quoi?
Tout le monde, quoi?
Pourquoi?
Le monde est rond...
Mais...
Mais je ne sais pas...
Vraiment...
D'habitude...
Mais...
Je...
Pense...
Bing tiddle tiddle, tiddle, tiddle, tiddle, bang!
Bong bing!
Bing tiddle tiddle, tiddle tiddle tiddle bing!
Bang bong!
Bang tiddle tiddle...
Bang!
Bing bang!
Bang!
Bang bang!
Bang...!
Bing tiddle tiddle, bang tiddle tiddle
Bong tiddle tiddle tiddle ding ding
Bing tiddle tiddle, bang tiddle tiddle
Bong tiddle tiddle tiddle ding ding...
Bing tiddle tiddle bing...
Bang!
Number 31:the end.