Ladies and gentlemen,
I'm not simply going to say,
"And now for something
completely different," this week,
because I do not think
it would fit.
This is a particularly
auspicious occasion
for us this evening,
as we have been told
that Her Majesty the Queen
will be watching part
of this show tonight.
Now we don't know exactly when
Her Majesty will be tuning in.
We understand that at the moment
she is watching The Virginian,
but we have been promised
that we will be informed
the moment that she changes
the channel.
Her Majesty would like everyone
to behave quite normally,
but her equerry has asked me
to request all of you at home
to stand
when the great moment arrives,
although we here in the studio
will be carrying on
with our humorous vignettes
and spoofs in the ordinary way.
Thank you. And now,
without any more ado,
and completely as normal,
here are the opening titles.
[ELGAR'S "POMP
AND CIRCUMSTANCE" PLAYING]
[CHURCH CHOIR SINGING]
ANNOUNCER: The coal miners of Wales
have long been famed
for their tough, rugged life,
hewing the black gold
from the uncompromising hell of one mile under.
This is the story
of such men,
battling gallantly
against floods, roof falls,
the English criminal law,
the hidden killer,
carbon monoxide,
and the ever-present threat
of pneumoconiosis,
which is a disease miners get.
Don't you talk to me like that, you lying bastard.
Oh, you bleeding pig,
you're not fit
to be down a mine.
Oh, yeah, typical
bleeding Rhondda, isn't it?
You think you're
so bloody clever.
[GROANS]
All right, okay.
You bloody fighting again?
Break it up or I'll put
this pick through your head.
Now what's it all about?
He started it.
Oh, you bleeding pig,
you started it.
I don't care
who bloody started it. What's it about?
Well, he said the bloody
Treaty of Utrecht was 1713.
So, it bloody is.
No, it bloody isn't.
It wasn't ratified
till February, 1714.
He's bluffing.
Your mind's gone, Jenkins.
You're rubbish.
He's right, Jenkins.
It was ratified
September, 1713.
The whole bloody pit
knows that.
Look in Trevelyan,
Page 468.
He's thinking of the
Treaty of bloody Westphalia.
Are you saying I don't know
the difference between
the War of bloody
Spanish Succession
and the Thirty bloody
Years' War?
You don't know the difference
between the Battle of Borodino
and a tiger's bum.
Break it up, break it up.
I'm sick of all
this bloody fighting.
If it's not the bloody
Treaty of Utrecht,
it's the bloody
binomial theorem.
This isn't the senior
common room at All Souls,
it's the bloody coalface.
Hey, gaffer,
can you settle something?
Morgan here says
you find the abacus
between the triglyphs
in the frieze section
of the entablature of
classical Greek Doric temples.
You bloody fool, Morgan,
that's the metope. MORGAN: Ah.
The abacus is between
the architrave
and the echinus
in the capital.
You stinking liar!
[ALL SHOUTING]
[BELL RINGING]
[FANFARE PLAYING]
Oh, most magnificent and merciful Majesty,
master of the universe,
protector of the meek,
whose nose we are not
worthy to pick.
And whose very feces
are an untrammeled delight.
And whose peacocks keep us
awake all hours of the night
with their noisy lovemaking.
We beseech thee,
tell thy humble servants
the name of the section
between the triglyphs in the frieze section
of a classical
Doric entablature.
No idea. Sorry. Right. Everybody out!
Still no settlement in the coal mine dispute at Llanddarog.
Miners refuse
to return to work
until the management
define a metope.
Meanwhile at Dagenham,
the unofficial
strike committee at Fords
have increased their demands
to 13 reasons
why Henry III was a bad king.
And finally, in the disgusting
objects international at Wembley tonight,
England beat Spain by a plate
of braised pus to a putrid heron.
And now the Toad Elevating Moment.
[♪]
Good evening.
Well, we have
in the studio tonight
a man who says things
in a very roundabout way.
Isn't that so,
Mr. Pudifoot?
Yes.
Um, have you always said things
in a very roundabout way?
Yes.
Ha. Well, I can't help noticing
that for someone who claims
to say things
in a very roundabout way,
your last two answers
have had very little
of the discursive quality
about them.
Oh, well,
I'm not very talkative today.
It-- It's a form
of defensive response
to intense
interrogative stimuli.
I used to get it very bad
when I was a boy.
Well, when I say badly,
in fact, uh,
do you remember
that fashion they had for little, you know, poodles--
Oh, now you're beginning
to talk--
You're beginning to talk
in a roundabout way.
Oh, I'm sorry.
No, no, no, no.
Please, do carry on,
because that is, in fact,
why we wanted you
on the show.
I thought it was because
you were interested in me as a human being.
Well, let's move on to our next guest, who not only lives in Essex,
but also speaks only
the ends of words, Mr. Ohn Ith.
Mr. Ith, good evening.
Od Ing.
Nice to have you
on the show.
Ice-oo-ee-ere.
Mr. Ith, don't you find it
difficult to make yourself understood?
Yes,
it is extremely difficult.
Just a minute, you're a fraud.
No, I can speak the third
and fourth sentences perfectly normally.
I see. So your next sentence
will be only the ends of words again?
Es-ats-ight.
Well, let's move on to our
next guest, who speaks only
the beginnings of words,
Mr. J Sm.
Mr. Sm, good evening.
Go-ev.
Oh, have you two
met before?
N--
O.
N--
O.
Well, this is really
a fascinating occasion
because we have
in the studio Mr. Oh I,
who speaks only
the middles of words.
Good evening. Oo-eni.
And where
do you come from?
Oh-eh-ah.
Dunfermline in Scotland.
Well, let me introduce you,
Mr. Ohn Ith, Mr. J Sm.
Od-ing.
Mr. J Sm.
Oo-eni.
Goo-eve.
Od-ing.
[LAUGHING]
Yes, well, just a moment.
Perhaps you would all like
to say "good evening" together.
Ah! Go--
Oo.
De.
Ee.
Ve.
Ning.
[WHISTLES]
Hi there, beautiful.
[GROANS]
[WHIMPERS]
Hi, Bob. Say, what's the matter with you?
I don't know, Tom,
but girls seem
to avoid me these days.
[MOANS]
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.
[GOBBLING]
[BURPS]
This table has been treated with ordinary soap powder,
but these have been treated
with new Fibro-Val.
We put both of them
in our washing machine
and just look
at the difference.
The table is all broken
and smashed,
but the sheets with Fibro-Val
are sparkling clean and white.
[♪]
ANNOUNCER: I love the surgical garment.
Enjoy the delights
of the Victor Mature
Abdominal Corset.
Sail down the Nile
on the Bleed-it Kosher Truss.
And don't forget
the Hercules Hold-'em-in,
the all-purpose concrete truss
for the man
with the family hernia.
Well, last week on Fish Club,
we learned how to sex a pike.
Now, this week we're going
to learn how to feed a goldfish.
Now, contrary to what
most people think,
the goldfish
has a ravenous appetite.
If it doesn't get
enough protein,
it gets very thin and
its bones begin to stick out,
and its fins start to
fall off.
So once a week,
give your goldfish
a really good meal.
Here's one
specially recommended
by the board
of irresponsible people.
First, some cold consommé
or gazpacho,
then some sausages
with spring greens,
sautéed potatoes, bread,
gravy-- That's enough. That's enough.
That's enough.
[SCREAMS]
ANNOUNCER:
The R.S.P.C.A. wish it to be known
that that man was not
a bona fide animal lover,
and also that goldfish
do not eat sausages.
MAN: Treacle tart!
ANNOUNCER: Shut up.
They are quite happy with
breadcrumbs, ants' eggs and--
Who wrote that?
[♪]
WOMAN: Oh, Charles. [CHARLES LAUGHING]
Oh, Charles. No, no.
Come on.
Oh, no.
[LAUGHING]
Please. Please, no.
Come on.
[WOMAN MUTTERING]
CHARLES: Oh, Come on.
Oh, no, Charles.
Come on.
[WOMAN MUTTERING]
[CHARLES LAUGHING]
WOMAN: Oh, Charles.
CHARLES: Oh.
Come on.
[WOMAN WHIMPERING]
[CHARLES LAUGHING]
Come on.
[WOMAN WHIMPERING]
[CHARLES LAUGHING]
I hope you're enjoying
the show.
ANNOUNCER: Herbert Mental collects birdwatchers' eggs.
At his home in Surrey
he has a collection
of over 400 of them.
Here now, uh, this is
a very interesting one.
Uh, this is
from a Mr. P.F. Bradshaw.
He is usually found
in Surrey hedgerows,
uh, but I found this one
in the gents'
at St. Pancras, uneaten.
ANNOUNCER:
Mr. Mental, why did you start
collecting birdwatchers' eggs?
Oh, well, uh,
I did it to get on Man Alive.
ANNOUNCER:
Man Alive?
That's right, yes.
Uh, but then
that got all serious,
so I carried on in the hope
of a quick appearance
as an eccentric
on the regional section
of Nationwide.
ANNOUNCER:
Mr. Mental, I believe a couple of years ago
you started to collect
butterfly hunters.
Uh, butterfly hunters?
ANNOUNCER: Yes.
Oh, that's right.
Here's a couple of them over here, you see.
Nice little chaps.
But the hobby I enjoyed most
was racing pigeon fanciers.
[ALL COOING]
[ELGAR'S "POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE" PLAYING]
[ALL COOING]
Dinsdale. Dinsdale.
Is the balloon ready?
Yeah, boss. Coming right up.
Hey. Let's go.
ANNOUNCER: Monty Python
proudly presents:
[FANFARE PLAYING]
[GIGGLING]
ANNOUNCER: The...
[♪]
Uh, good morning.
I-- I've been
in touch with you
about the, uh,
life insurance.
Ah, yes, uh, did you--
Did you bring the, mmm,
specimen of--
of your, mmm--
And so on, and so on?
Uh, yes, I did.
Uh, it's in the car.
Good.
There's rather a lot.
Good, good.
Do you really need
12 gallons?
No. No, not really.
Do you test it?
No.
Well, why do you
want it?
Well, we do it to make sure
that you're serious about wanting insurance.
I mean, uh, if you're not, you
won't spend a couple of months
filling up that enormous churn
with, mmm, so on and so on.
Shall I bring it in?
Good Lord, no. Throw it away.
Throw it away?
I was months
filling that thing up.
[DRUMROLL]
[MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]
["GOD SAVE THE QUEEN" PLAYING]
ANNOUNCER:
And we've just heard that Her Majesty the Queen
has just tuned
in to this program,
and so she is now watching
this royal sketch
here in this royal set.
The actor on the left
is wearing the great gray suit
of the BBC
Wardrobe Department,
and the other actor
is about to deliver
the first great royal joke
here this royal evening.
Over to the right you can see
the royal cameraman,
and behind--
Oh, we've just heard
she's switched over.
She's watching News at Ten.
[ALL GROANING]
despite the union's
recommendation
that the strikers
should accept
the second
and third clauses
of the agreement
arrived at last Thursday.
[DRUMROLL AND
"GOD SAVE THE QUEEN" PLAYING]
Today saw the publication
of the McGuffie Commission's
controversial report
on treatment of inpatients
in north London hospitals.
DOCTOR:
Get on parade!
Come on!
We haven't got all day, have we?
Come on, come on, come on.
[ALL GROANING]
DOCTOR: Hurry up!
Get at it!
Right!
Now, I know some hospitals
where you get the patients
lying around in bed.
Sleeping, resting,
recuperating,
convalescing.
Well, that's not the way
we do things here, right!
No, you won't be
loafing about in bed,
wasting the doctors' time.
You, you horrible
little cripple.
What's the matter with you?
Fractured tibia, sergeant.
"Fractured tibia, sergeant."
Proper little mummy's boy,
aren't we?
Well, I'll tell you something,
my fine friend,
if you fracture a tibia here,
you keep quiet about it!
Look at him!
He's broke both his arms
and he don't go
shouting about it, do he?
No, 'cause he's a man!
He's a woman, you see,
so don't come with that
broken tibia talk with me!
Get on your feet
at the double!
One, two, three,
pick that crutch up.
Pick that crutch right up!
Right.
Squad, turn!
Squad, right.
Turn!
Squad, by the left,
quick limp!
Come on, pick them up.
Get some air
in those wounds.
Here at St. Pooves,
we believe in A.R.T.
Active Recuperation
Techniques.
We try to help
the patient understand
that however ill he may be,
he can still fulfill
a useful role in society.
Sun lounge please,
Mr. Griffiths.
Well...
I got a triple fracture
of the right leg,
dislocated collarbone,
and multiple head injuries,
so I do most of the heavy work,
like helping the surgeon.
INTERVIEWER:
What does that involve?
Well, at the moment, we're
building him a holiday home.
INTERVIEWER:
What about the nurses?
Oh, well, I don't know
about them.
They're not allowed
to mix with the patients.
INTERVIEWER:
Do all the patients work?
No, no.
The ones that are really ill
do sport.
[♪]
ANNOUNCER: Yes, one thing patients here dread are the runs.
INTERVIEWER: How are you feeling?
Much better.
[GROANS]
[GRUNTING]
ANNOUNCER: But the patients are allowed visiting.
And this week they're visiting
an iron foundry at Swindon,
which is crying out
for unskilled labor.
[♪]
But this isn't the only hospital
where doctors' conditions
are improving.
Oh, we have very little shortage of doctors here.
We have over 40 doctors
per bed--
Patient.
I'll be honest. Bed.
We've every facility here
for dealing with people
who are rich.
We can deal
with a blocked purse,
we can drain
private accounts,
and in the worst cases
we can perform
a total "cashectomy,"
which is total removal
of all moneys
from the patient.
Well, here we try to help people
who have to link
sketches together.
We try to stop them saying,
"Have you ever wondered what it would be like if,"
and instead to say
something like, um...
"And now the mountaineering sketch."
Oh, I haven't written
a mountaineering sketch,
but now over to the exploding
version of the "Blue Danube."
[PLAYING STRAUS'
"THE BLUE DANUBE"]
ANNOUNCER: And now a dormitory in a girls' public school.
[SNORING]
[FOOTSTEPS]
[CLATTERING]
MAN 1: Hello, Agnes?
Agnes, are you awake?
Agnes?
[MOANING]
[SLAPPING]
MAN: Agnes?
MAN 2:
Who is it? Is that you, Charlie?
MAN 1:
Yeah, Agnes. Where's Jane?
MAN 3:
I'm over here, Charlie.
MAN 1:
Jane, we're going down to raid the tuck shop.
MAN 2:
Oh, good-o. Count me in, girls.
MAN 4:
Can I come too, Agnes?
MAN 1:
Yeah, Joyce.
MAN 5:
And me and Avril?
MAN 3:
Yeah, rather. And Suki.
MAN 4:
Oh, whacko the diddle-oh.
MAN 1:
Table it, girls, here comes Miss Rodgers.
All right, girls.
Now stop this tomfoolery
and get back into bed.
Remember it's the big match
at St. Bridget's tomorrow.
Yes, on your screen tomorrow,
The Naughtiest Girl
in the School,
starring the men
of the 14th Marine Commandos.
And now it's documentary time,
when we look at
the momentous last years
of the Second World War.
And tonight
the invasion of Normandy,
performed by the girls
of Oakdene High School,
Upper Fifth Science.
MAN:
Come on, come on, come on.
[ALL SQUEALING]
Oh, it's still raining.
I'm going
down the shops.
Oh, be a dear
and get me some ratsbane
for the budgie's boil.
Otherwise,
I'll put your eyes out.
Aye, aye,
captain.
WOMAN: Calling torpedo bay.
Hi, torpedo bay.
She said torpedo bay.
Yes, she did, she did.
Yes, she said torpedo bay.
She did, she did.
She said torpedo bay.
Hello, this is
Lieutenant Edale here.
Mrs. Midshipman Nesbitt's got
one of her headaches again,
so I put her
in the torpedo tube.
Roger, Mrs. Edale,
stand by
to fire Mrs. Nesbitt.
Stand by to fire
Mrs. Nesbitt.
Standing by to fire
Mrs. Nesbitt.
Red alert,
put the kettle on.
Kettle on.
Engine room,
stand by to feed the cat.
Standing by
to feed the cat.
Fire, Mrs. Nesbitt!
Oh, that's much better.
MAN:
"As an admiral who came up through the ranks
more times than you've had
hot dinners,
I wish to join my husband,
Admiral O.W.A. Giveaway,
in condemning
this shoddy misrepresentation
of our modern navy.
The British Navy
is one of the finest
and most attractive
and butchest fighting forces
in the world.
I love those white
flared trousers
and the feel
of rough blue serge
on those pert little buttocks.
I'm afraid we are unable
to show you
any more of that letter.
We continue with a man
with a stoat through his head.
And now:
Still no sign of land.
How long is it?
That's rather
a personal question, sir.
You stupid git.
I meant how long
we've been in the lifeboat.
You've spoiled
the atmosphere now.
I'm sorry.
Shut up!
We'll have
to start again.
Still no sign of land.
How long is it?
Thirty-three days, sir.
Thirty-three days.
I don't think
we can hold out longer.
I don't think I did
spoil the atmosphere. Shut up!
I'm sorry,
I don't think I did.
Of course you did.
Do you think I spoiled
the atmosphere?
Well, I-- I think you--
Look, shut up! Shut up!
[COUGHING]
Still no sign of land.
How long is it?
Thirty-three days.
Have we started again? Oh!
Still no sign of land.
How long is it?
Thirty-three days, sir.
Thirty-three days?
Yes. We can't hold out
much longer.
We haven't had any food
since the fifth day.
We're done for,
we're done for!
Shut up, Maudling!
We've just gotta
keep hoping
someone will find us.
How are you feeling,
captain?
Not so good.
I feel so weak.
HODGES:
We can't hold out much longer.
[COUGHING]
Listen, chaps,
there's one last chance.
I'm done for,
I've got a gammy leg,
and I'm going fast,
I'll never get through, but--
some of you might.
So you'd better eat me.
Eat you, sir?
Yes. Eat me.
[GROANS]
With a gammy leg?
You don't have to eat
the leg, Thompson,
there's still plenty
of good meat.
Look at that arm.
It's not
just the leg, sir.
What do you mean?
Well, sir,
it's just that--
Why don't you want
to eat me?
I'd rather eat
Johnson, sir.
Oh, so would I,
sir.
I see.
Oh, well, that's settled.
Everyone eats me.
Well, I, um...
What, sir?
No, no, you go ahead,
I won't...
Nonsense, nonsense, sir,
you're starving. Tuck in!
No, it's--
It's not just that.
What's the matter
with Johnson, sir?
Well, he's not kosher.
Depends how we kill him, sir.
Yes, yes, I see that,
but, um, well,
to be quite frank,
I like my meat
a little more lean.
I'd rather eat Hodges.
Oh, well, all right.
No, I'd still prefer
to eat Johnson.
I wish you'd stop bickering
and eat me.
I tell you what.
Why don't those of us
who want to eat Johnson,
then you, sir, can eat my leg,
and then we can make
a stock of the captain,
and then after that we can eat
the rest of Johnson
cold for supper?
Good thinking, Hodges.
We'll finish off with peaches.
And we can start off
with the avocados.
Waitress!
Waitress,
we've decided now.
We're going to have
a leg of Hodges.
[AUDIENCE GROANING]
MAN: Dear sir, I am glad to hear that your studio audience
disapproves of the last skit
as strongly as I.
As a naval officer,
I abhor the implication
that the Royal Navy
is a haven for cannibalism.
It is well known
that we now have the problem
relatively under control,
and that it's the RAF
who now suffer
the largest casualties
in this area.
And what do you think
the Argylls ate in Aden?
Arabs?
Yours et cetera,
Captain B.J. Smethwick,
in a white wine sauce
with shallots,
mushrooms and garlic.
[CHOMPING]
MAN: Stop it. Stop it!
Stop this cannibalism!
Let's have a sketch about
clean, decent human beings.
[RINGING]
Good morning.
Ah, good morning.
What will I do
for you, squire?
Well, uh, I wonder
if you can help me.
Um, you see,
my mother has just died.
Oh, yeah, we can help you.
We deal with stiffs.
What?
Well, there are three things
we can do with your mother:
We can burn her,
bury her or dump her.
Dump her?
Dump her in the Thames.
What?!
Oh, did you like her?
Yes.
Oh, we won't dump her, then.
Well, what do you think?
We can bury her or burn her.
Well, uh, which
do you recommend?
Well, they're both nasty.
Uh, if we burn her, she gets
stuffed in the flames.
Crackle, crackle, crackle.
Which is a bit of a shock if
she's not quite dead, but quick.
Then we give you
a handful of ashes,
which you can pretend
were hers. Oh.
Or if we bury her,
she gets eaten up by lots
of weevils and nasty maggots
which, as I said before,
is a bit of a shock
if she's not quite dead.
I see.
Well, she's, uh--
She's definitely dead.
Where is she?
Oh, she's in this sack.
Can I have a look?
[AUDIENCE BOOING]
She looks quite young.
Yes. Yes, she was.
Fred?
FRED: Yeah?
I think we've got an eater.
[AUDIENCE BOOS]
What?
I'll get the oven on.
Right.
Uh, excuse me, um, are you--?
Are--?
Are you suggesting...
eating my mother?
[AUDIENCE SHOUTS]
Yeah. Not raw, cooked. What?
You know, roasted,
a few French fries,
broccoli,
horseradish sauce.
MAN:
That's nasty.
Well, I-- I do feel
a bit peckish.
[AUDIENCE GROANS]
Great!
Can we have
some parsnips?
Fred, get some parsnips!
I really don't think
I should.
Look, tell you what.
We'll eat her,
if you feel a bit guilty
about it afterwards,
we can dig a grave
and you can throw up in it.
[AUDIENCE ROARS]
[ALL SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]
["GOD SAVE THE QUEEN" PLAYING]