Over here.
If they know you're here, I'm dead meat.
They've kept me locked up down here for years.
They're determined to stop me from telling the world
the horrible truth about Monty Python's Flying Circus.
But thank God you're here.
It was my show. It was all my show.
It was supposed to be all mine, an all-cartoon show.
Glorious colour, beautiful music, great ideas.
This was long before South Park.
This was gonna be big, bigger than The Simpsons,
but, oh, no, no, no.
They destroyed that dream.
You see, back in the '60s,
I was a world-famous cartoonist,
and the BBC had come begging on their knees,
offering me my own show.
But as one does, one needs people to help out,
to do the odd, occasional silly voice.
And I took pity on some college boys
that I'd found really down on their luck, at Piccadilly Circus,
selling their young, well-educated bodies for drugs
but I'm not one to judge, I'm one to help
and I gave them a chance to act.
I was a fool. I was a fool!
While I was down here, slaving away, day after night.
Day after day after day after night.
Those ingrates were talking to the BBC,
and they were taking them out for drinks, and they were dancing.
And before I realised what was happening,
the BBC started slipping live-action sketches into my shows
between the cartoons.
They called them "connecting links."
Zany, infantile, so-called humour.
Well, that was the beginning of the end.
So there were more sketches, and more.
And then these guys' faces, they started turning up on... Everywhere.
On the Radio Times and society pages and then...
Wait, where are you going?
Hey, hold on. Don't go. No, no, no.
I can show you what my show was going to be like. I can show you...
I've got the tape. It's ready. Yeah, it's...
Just throw that switch on the wall next to you.
Quiet, quiet. No, no, not that...
Oh, my God! No, no. Oh, God! No. No, no.
They know I'm here. They know you're here.
Oh, quick. Oh, they're coming.
Please, please, wait, wait! Don't... There's another switch.
Throw it! Throw it now! The world has got to know.
The world has got to know the truth!
Monty Python's Flying Circuses.
Hello, tired of the sounds of dancing feet?
Then listen to the sounds of dancing teeth.
Yes, mothers, it's time once again
for Conrad Poohs and his dancing teeth.
Excuse me, I'd like to make a correction.
Conrad is in fact holding a letter, not a telegram. Thank you.
Five pence, please.
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, finally...
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.
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 Jaw into their own hands.
But the days of the killer cars were numbered
thanks to the miracle of atomic mutation.
Oh, thank you. You've saved our city.
But at what cost?
Oh, thank you, thank you. You've saved our city.
Well, this will have to do.
Lovely. Dinner's ready, dear.
Sorry, your time's up, Mr Spew.
I'm afraid you lose both the three-piece suite
and your youngest daughter.
Say, have I shown you my last operation?
Now, we've got to find that tumour.
Now, where does it go?
It's... No, no.
Move! Move!
Wasn't that terrific, ladies and gentlemen? Really great.
Now, the next item on the programme is...
I can't stand it, man. Really now, I've had it with this idiot.
Every night, you make me say the most inane...
- Really terrific act. Now, the next item on... - Anyway, I'm off, gone!
Split, through, eh?
Gonna find somebody else to play with. Someone with a bit of cool now.
I mean...
I gotta express myself...
Nobody feels the same way I feel, man.
Welcome aboard, Britischer pig.
Quite a little surprise, ja?
But perhaps you would be so kind
as to tell us all you know about certain Allied shipping routes, ja?
Come on, talk.
Hello, Fritz, the tables seem to have turned, old chap.
Let's see how you like a bit of your own medicine, eh?
Come on, Fritz, now tell us. Tell us about...
Greetings, capitalist dog.
Very sorry, but must inform you
that you are now prisoner of People's Republic of...
Very sorry, Comrade Commander,
but have just picked up capitalist ship on radar scanner.
This is your captain speaking. There is no need for panic.
Women and children first.
I repeat that, women and children first.
Can you dig it, man?
Sit up! Sit up.
Sit up!
Sit up.
Oh, help me. Oh, no. Please, stop it. Oh.
There's somebody out there.
Help. Help me. I'm trapped in this body. Oh, please help me, I'm...
Help me. Oh, please help me out. Oh, help.
I'm free! I'm free! I'm free!
Just checking.
Oh, no, you don't.
There's somebody out there.
Actually, I find violence extremely distasteful,
but it was the only part offered and I need the work.
Hi there, beautiful.
Hi, Bob. Say, what's the matter with you?
I don't know, Tom, but girls seem to avoid me these days.
Could be bad breath, Bob. Say, have you tried using Crelm toothpaste?
Gosh, Tom, do you think that would help?
You bet your boots it will, Bob.
Tom was sure right. Crelm has changed my life.
Hi, girls.
Whoa, Charles Atlas!
With the world's most perfectly developed body.
Tired of being pushed around?
Would you like to do some pushing around instead?
Would you like a body that can't fail to attract women?
A body that is the envy of other men?
Oh, I must get one of those.
Then let me have your skinny, scrawny little body for just 15 minutes a day.
I've heard that one before, ducky.
Let me slap 50 pounds of he-man muscles on you.
Thick, Herculean arms, a deep, massive chest,
atomic-powered legs, shoulders a yard wide,
and right in the privacy of your own home.
What's my secret?
It's Dynamo Tension.
Muscles pulling against muscles, the natural way.
Here's living proof.
And there's no need to stop there.
So don't delay.
Send today for my gigantic, free,
78-page muscle-building course
Postman.
...and start building a body you can be proud of.
Tired of that drab, boring life you lead?
Then purchase a past.
Yes, thousands of people have led far more interesting lives,
than you will ever lead.
They will undoubtedly continue to lead interesting lives,
whereas you, just as assuredly, will not.
Bits of their lives are being made available for purchase.
For only 15 shillings,
dullards like yourself
can obtain beautifully-framed photographs of other people's lives.
Hang them in your den,
stand them on your desk, or next to your bed.
Pretend they are pictures from your past.
Hello, I'm Uncle Frank and family.
Mind if we stay a couple of nights? Or a month? Or three years?
Say, hello, we're Uncle George and Agnes. Here we are. Where's the bathroom?
By the way, is there any toothpaste?
- Oh, I'm terribly sorry. - Shut up.
Shut up!
Oh, sorry.
Not good enough.
You see, it's very simple.
We just take these cutout figures and by putting them together... What?
Oh, you mean we're...
Sorry.
Wait, Nigel, I've got this strange feeling we're being watched.
Oh, my God, Bruce, it's the police.
Oh, lunch break.
Gott im Himmel! It's Tommy!
Hooray, we're saved!
Meanwhile, 55 years later, back in London...
For he's a jolly good fellow For he's a jolly good fellow
Which nobody can deny
It's no good, Spider, you can't escape that easily.
We're coming in after you.
This way, Davis.
We'd best separate.
I'm going down there, you check the right ventricle.
- Any sign of him, Davis? - No, Lieutenant, nothing here.
All right, we'll check the spleen.
Wait!
Oh, my God. He's doubled back on us.
Quick, we've got to catch him before he reaches the neck.
Oh, no, too late, Davis, he's got out.
- He's eating. - Run for it!
Oh, my God! We'll never have to struggle.
I think my wife is beginning to suspect.
You! Shut up, up there!
What do you mean, shut up, up there? You shut up.
- Oh, shut up, will you? - Be quiet!
Shut up! Shut your...
I apologise for that. But I think you'll find this a bit more interesting.
The BBC would like to apologise for the constant repetition in this show.
Whoops-a-daisy!
I say.
Shut up, all of you up there.
Why can't a guy get some sleep around here?
A little peace and quiet's all I want.
Shut up right now or I'm coming up.
I
hope
you're
enjoying
this.
Attention. There's been a nasty five-frog curse near the M4.
Proceed immediately to the area.
Oh, dear.
- Looks bad. - Very bad.
Quite agreed.
Only one thing to do with a multiple-frog curse like this.
Righto, get the magic wand.
Clear the area. Fire!
- Hello! - Hello!
- And now... - And now...
Well, things turned out all right in the end.
You mustn't ask how because it's naughty.
They're all married, and living quite well in a council estate near Dulwich.
Today, I want to tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was an enchanted prince,
who ruled the land beyond the Wobbles.
One day, he discovered a spot on his face.
Foolishly, he ignored it.
And three years later, he died of cancer.
The spot, however, flourished.
It soon set out to seek its fortune.
Agnes, did you see who just moved in next door?
Yes, black as the ace of spades.
There goes the neighbourhood.
- Them and their smelly cooking. - And the noise.
- And they breed like rabbits. - Oh, yes.
I don't like rabbits.
Sorry, I can't hear a word you say.
Very amusing, Lord Kimble.
But would you excuse me a moment? I want to powder my nose.
That's better.
Yes, Charwoman.
Sweeping away the last remnants of male chauvinism,
polishing off all who dare stand in her way,
and cleaning up in the publishing game.
Yes, all these and more
as Charwoman once again takes to the skies.
Monty Python's Flying Circuses.
Cor, blimey, look what we've found.
- What an amazing find. - It really is fantastic.
- It is the archaeological find of the century. - Yes, indeed, indeed...
Gentlemen, from this single part and months of painstaking research,
we have been able to accurately reconstruct this entire beast.
Oh, isn't he a lovely little...
Oh, isn't he a lovely...
Wait a minute, buckaroos, this has gone far enough.
Oh, no, no, take it away from me. Take it away.
Oh, get it away. Get it away.
- Disgusting. - Disgusting rubbish.
L, too, take strong exception
to this resurgence of cheap jokes about poo-poos.
Mr Voyeur's letter stated very...
Excuse me.
As I was saying,
the letter previously read made quite clear the view of a great majority...
Day after day after day after day!
Oh, evening star, if only we could have a decent day tomorrow.
Oh, this weather's so wretched and awful and filthy and...
What? What's going on? What the hell is going...
Now I can't even sleep.
What? What are they doing?
What was that? What was... What the... What's going on?
Oh, I can't stand it.
Right, that does it! That does it! I'm going out!
What a lovely day.
Oh, I think I'm going to...
But at Wembley, play had resumed.
Meanwhile, nearby, the day was just beginning for Muggsy Spaniel,
a convicted gangster and well-known swell guy.
- Breakfast, dear. - Thank you, dear.
Happy birthday, Muggsy.
Oh, the Eggs.
Yes, indeed, this was the work of none other than Eggs Diamond,
leader of the notorious Chicken Gang.
Dinsdale?
With the Chicken Gang out for blood,
a man's life wasn't worth the paper it was printed on.
Already, there have been murders committed here and here, and the latest one right here.
He's right, you know.
However, the powerful forces Eggs had loosed on the city
were to be his undoing.
Return with us now to the hideout.
Oh, yes.
All right, buster, hands up.
Attention! Attention! Suspect heading due North.
Plan 13A is now in effect.
Colonel! I've just found another exit, sir.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Excuse me.
I hear something.
Hang about, we may still get in this show as a link.
That's clever, how did he do that?
Colour separation, you cotton head.
No, that's not right. That's got it.
Oh, what's this?
- So, Britischer pig, we meet again. - What?
That bitch. He spilled the entire bottle of Château Latour.
Everything.
- It's a disaster. - Yeah.
Shut up, the lot of you.
- Over here, Sir William. - Sir William, over here.
Here we are.
Now, stay there.
In our church, we believe first and foremost in you.
We want you to think of us as your friend.
- How are we gonna get out of this? - How do we get out of this?
- No, idea. - Well, what shall we do?
Don't jump! Don't jump!
- What? - What?
Please don't jump! Think of the little ones!
We weren't going to jump.
- Don't jump, the fire brigade's coming. - The fire brigade is coming!
What?
Don't jump! Don't jump!
My God, he's coming back.
My God, this is terrible. Will somebody please stop it?
Not now, sir. Let's try it this way.
Alakazam, abracadabra. Alakazam, abracadabra.
Hello.
What the devil's going on here?
Hey! Hey, what's going...
What's happening here? Hey!
Hey, wait a minute. Hold... Hey, hold... Hey!
Stop that.
Now, ladies and gents, here it is,
the show you've been waiting for, the show you've heard so much about.
This is the show that gives you what you want, the way you like it.
So move right up front for Full Frontal Nudity.
Sit down.
I'm sorry.
Hot in here. Some ice cream, sweeties?
Get out!
Could the owner of the vehicle that's parked outside
please move it as it's causing an obstruction?
Buck-naked's great, ladies and germs.
Admittedly, a few problems, a few disappointments...
Shut up, you pansy, I paid for full frontal nudity
and I'm gonna get some.
How's that, sailor?
And now for something completely different.
No-Time Tolouse.
All right, you yellow-bellied sidewinder.
Go for your guns.
In London, the Prime Minister met officials
in London, the Prime Minister met officials
from the Department of the Environment,
and discussed the whole question of national parks...
A cassette tape recorder is to replace the salon quartets and trios
which have played beside the potted palms at Manchester Town Hall receptions
for nearly 100 years.
Shortage of money has caused a switch to taped music,
which will be relayed over a new public address system,
replacing one which relayed both music and...
Stock market prices hit record levels in the last part of the year.
The Financial Times index rose 3. 7 points to 476. 5.
...after the BBC had reported that Radio Free Servant, a pirate station,
was marking the first birthday of the BBC...
Henry, turn that television off.
You know it's bad for your eyes.
Yes, dear.
That's better.
- Henry, will you stop sitting around? - Yes, dear.
There's an entire TV studio waiting around for you to do the next link.
And when you've got that done I've got some more work for you.
Yes, dear.
Henry, do you hear me?
Henry!
Henry, get a move on.
Now, you sod!
That's better!
Hello, I'm the good fairy from Programme Control,
where we're all grateful for your work on this link.
So much so that I'm here to release you from the evil spell you've been under.
Well, it doesn't always work the first time.
Thank you. Thank you.
No, no need to.
You see, it's all in a day's work for Programme Control.
Oh, the pantomime flea has caught himself a nice little dinner, Fred.
I think the dining room wants his din-dins, too.
Your turn today, dear.
All right, Mr Bedroom, you'll get your dinner, too.
Postman.
Oh, the 69 is late again today.
Do you hear that, Tim?
Yup, could just be the house we're looking for.
This, then, is the story of two desperate men,
hired by the good people at NCP Car Parks,
to hunt down and destroy houses too dangerous to live.
Well, what do you think?
Oh, these are house droppings all right.
Fresh ones, too.
Over here.
That's the one. Cover me, I'm gonna make a try for it.
And so, thanks once again to the unceasing efforts
of the good people at NCP Car Parks,
the world is made just a little bit safer.
Prithee, what is that here I hold?
If this be Brian, then to fight, I go. But no.
Alas, for to doth perceive I am undone.
No, Cyril must not know. But no.
Yes. Now I am resolved.
What ho? Someone approacheth.
Take heed, my Lord, Kevin and Bruce are here.