NARRATOR: In the bleak days of 1983,
as England languished in the doldrums of a ruinous monetarist policy,
the good, loyal men of the Permanent Assurance Company,
a once-proud family firm recently fallen on hard times,
strained under the yoke of their oppressive new corporate management.
MAN: Terrible. Really terrible.
MAN: Row!
That's it, Evans. You're fired.
You heard me. Out.
Did you hear that? He's been sacked.
Sacked?
Sacked? Come on, boys. Let's get at 'em.
(MEN CLAMORING)
MAN: Hey!
Come on! Come on!
(GRUNTING)
(SCREAMING)
(MAN GROANING)
MAN: Let me out of here!
MAN 2: I demand to see my lawyer!
(MEN LAUGHING)
Tooley! Come on.
(SCREAMING)
(GROANING)
(SCREAMING)
Quiet! Silence!
Now, lads, let's move.
You, you and you, break open the weapons.
You, you and you, into the rigging.
And you, put the kettle on. Aye, sir.
(EXCLAIMING)
There, there, Charles.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
(SCREAMING)
Sorry!
Come on, Tooley. This way!
Weigh the anchor!
Weigh the anchor.
(BUBBLING)
NARRATOR: And so, The Crimson Permanent Assurance
was launched upon the high seas of international finance.
Come on, boy. Watch it. Route. Route!
Cup of tea, dear? Hey, Captain!
Look! To starboard!
NARRATOR: There it lay, the prize they sought.
Hard to starboard!
NARRATOR: A financial district swollen with multinationals, conglomerates,
and fat, bloated merchant banks.
All right, lads, battle stations!
Come on! Move it! Move it! Move it!
(EXCLAIMING)
All right, then. That's enough. Take cover.
Down, down! Get down!
(SQUEAKING)
Down, down.
(SHUSHING)
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
(BOTH GASPING)
Hard to starboard!
Fire!
(MEN EXCLAIMING)
(SCREAMING)
Eric! My balance sheets!
Ross! Get the readouts!
Stop him! Eric!
Thanks! MAN: Charge!
Come on! Grab it!
No, no! Let me! Let me! Okay, Kane.
Cudgelled!
Gotcha!
You bastard!
(GROANING)
(MAN GRUNTING)
Take this.
(GROANING)
Here. File this.
Shit!
(SCREAMING)
NARRATOR: And so, heartened by their initial success,
the desperate and reasonably violent men of The Permanent Assurance
battled on until,
as the sun set slowly in the west,
the outstanding returns on their bold business venture
became apparent.
Once-proud financial giants
lay in ruins,
their assets stripped,
their policies in tatters.
CAPTAIN: Full speed ahead, Mr. Cohen!
MEN: (SINGING) Up, up, up your premium Up, up, up your premium
Scribble away And balance the books
Scribble away But balance the books
It's fun to charter an accountant
And sail the wide accountancy
To find, explore the funds offshore
And skirt the shoals of bankruptcy
It can be manly in insurance
We'll up your premium semiannually
It's all tax-deductible We're fairly incorruptible
Sailing on the wide accountancy
Sail away... NARRATOR: And so, they sailed off
into the ledgers of history,
one by one, the financial capitals of the world
crumbling under the might of their business acumen.
Or so it would have been,
if certain modern theories concerning the shape of the world
had not proved to be disastrously wrong.
Morning. Morning.
Morning.
What's new? Not much.
Morning! Good morning! Morning!
Morning! Morning!
Frank was just asking what's new. Was he?
Yes.
Hey, look.
Howard's being eaten. Is he?
Makes you think, doesn't it? Hmm.
I mean, what's it all about? Beats me.
(SINGING) Why are we here
What's life all about
Is God really real
Or is there some doubt
Well, tonight we're going to sort it all out
For tonight it's The Meaning of Life
What's the point of all this hoax
Is it the chicken and the egg time
Are we just yolks
Or perhaps we're just one of God's little jokes
Well, ça, c'est le meaning of life
Is life just a game
Where we make up the rules
While we're searching for something to say
Or are we just simply spiraling coils
Of self-replicating DNA
Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay, nay Nay, nay, nay, nay
What is life What is our fate
Is there heaven and hell
Do we reincarnate
Is mankind evolving or is it too late
Well, tonight here's The Meaning of Life
(LIGHTNING CRACKING)
For millions
This life is a sad vale of tears
Sitting round with really nothing to say
While scientists say
We're just simply spiraling coils
Of self-replicating DNA
Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay, nay Nay, nay, nay, nay
So just why Why are we here
And just what
What, what, what do we fear
Well, ce soir for a change
It will all be made clear
For this is The Meaning of Life
C'est le sens de la vie
This is The Meaning of Life
NARRATOR: Part one. The miracle of birth.
One thousand and eight!
Mrs. Moore's contractions are more frequent, Doctor.
Good. Take her into the fetus frightening room.
Right.
Jolly good.
It's a bit bare in here today, isn't it?
Yes. Yes. More apparatus, please, Nurse.
The EEG, the BP monitor and the AVV. Certainly, Doctor.
And get the machine that goes "ping."
And get the most expensive machines in case the administrator comes.
That's it. Bring it in. Bring it right here. Behind me.
Lovely, lovely. Jolly good. That's better.
That's much, much better. Yes, that's more like it.
Still something missing, though.
Hmm? Hmm.
Patient. Patient, yes.
Where's the patient? Patient! Anyone seen the patient?
(EXCLAIMS)
Here she is. DOCTOR: Bring it over here.
Mind the machines! Sorry, Doctor.
Come along!
Come along. Jump on it.
Hello. Now don't you worry. We'll soon have you cured.
Leave it all to us. You'll never know what hit you.
Goodbye. Goodbye.
Drips up. Injections.
Can I put the tube in the baby's head?
Only if I can do the episiotomy.
Okay. Thank you.
Legs up.
Oh, come in. Come on in, all of you. That's it. Jolly good.
Come on. Come along. Spread round there.
Who are you? I'm the husband.
I'm sorry. Only people involved are allowed in here.
What do I do? Yes?
What do I do? Nothing, dear. You're not qualified.
Leave it to us. What's that for?
That's the machine that goes "ping."
(PINGING)
You see? That means your baby is still alive.
And that's the most expensive machine in the whole hospital.
Yes, it cost over three-quarters of a million pounds.
Aren't you lucky?
The administrator is here, Doctor.
Switch everything on.
Morning, gentlemen.
Morning. Morning, gentlemen. Morning.
MAN 1: Morning, Mr. Pycroft. MAN 2: Mr. Pycroft.
Oh, very impressive, very impressive.
And what are you doing this morning? It's a birth.
And what sort of thing is that?
Well, that's when we take a new baby out of a lady's tummy.
(MACHINE PINGING) Wonderful what we can do nowadays.
I see you have the machine that goes "ping." This is my favorite.
You see, we lease this back from the company we sold it to,
and that way, it comes under the monthly current budget and not the capital account.
Thank you, thank you. We try to do our best. Well, do carry on.
Oh, the vulva's dilating, Doctor. Oh, yes, there's the head.
Yes, four centimeters, five, six centimeters.
Lights! Amplify the ping machine.
Masks up! Suction!
Eyes down for a full house!
Here it comes.
(BABY CRYING) And frighten it.
Thank you. And the rough towels!
Show it to the mother. That's enough.
Right. Sedate her. Number the child.
Measure it, blood-type it and isolate it.
Okay, show's over.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
Is it a boy or a girl?
I think it's a little early to start imposing roles on it, don't you?
Now, a word of advice. You may find that you suffer for some time,
a totally irrational feeling of depression, PND, as we doctors call it.
So, it's lots of happy pills for you,
and you can find out all about the birth when you get home.
It's available on BetaMax, VHS and Super 8.
(MACHINE PINGING)
NARRATOR: The miracle of birth, part two. The third world.
(DOG BARKING)
(BIRD CAWING)
Oh, bloody hell.
(CRYING)
Oh, get it, would you, Deidre? All right, Mum.
(CHILDREN CHATTERING)
Now whose teatime is it? ALL: Mine!
Come on. Out you go.
Now, Vincent, Tessa, Valerie, Janine,
Martha, Andrew, Thomas, Walter, Pat, Linda,
Michael, Evadne, Alice, Dominique and Sasha, it's your bedtime.
(CHILDREN GROANING)
Now don't argue!
Laura, Alfred, Nigel, Annie, Simon, Amanda...
Wait. I've got something to tell the whole family.
Oh, quick. Go and get the others in, Gordon.
The mill's closed. There's no more work.
(CHILDREN MURMURING) We're destitute.
Come in, my little loves. I've got no option but to sell you all
for scientific experiments.
No, no, that's the way it is, my loves.
Blame the Catholic Church
for not letting me wear one of those little rubber things.
Oh, they've done some wonderful things in their time.
They've preserved the might and majesty, even mystery of the Church of Rome,
and the sanctity of the sacrament, the indivisible oneness of the Trinity,
but if they'd let me wear one of those little rubber things
on the end of my cock,
we wouldn't be in the mess we are now.
Couldn't Mummy have worn some sort of pessary?
Not if we're going to remain members
of the fastest-growing religion in the world, my boy.
He's right. You see, we believe...
Well, let me put it like this.
(SINGING) There are Jews in the world
There are Buddhists
There are Hindus and Mormons and then
There are those that follow Mohammed
But I've never been one of them
I'm a Roman Catholic
And have been since before I was born
And the one thing they say about Catholics
Is they'll take you as soon as you're warm
You don't have to be a six-footer
You don't have to have a great brain
You don't have to have any clothes on
You're a Catholic the moment Dad came
Because
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate
CHILDREN: (SINGING) Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate
Let the heathens spill theirs
On the dusty ground
God shall make them pay
For each sperm that can't be found
Every sperm is wanted
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood
Hindu, Taoist, Mormon
Spill theirs just anywhere
But God loves those who treat
Their semen with more care
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is good Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
MEN: In your neighborhood
Every sperm is useful
Every sperm is fine
God needs everybody's
Mine And mine
Let the pagans spill theirs
O'er mountain, hill and plain
God shall strike them down
For each sperm that's spilt in vain
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets
Quite irate
(PEOPLE WHOOPING)
So you see my problem, little ones.
I can't keep you all here any longer.
BOY: Speak up!
I can't keep you all here any longer!
God has blessed us so much I can't afford to feed you anymore.
Couldn't you have your balls cut off?
It's not as simple as that, Nigel. God knows all.
He'd see through such a cheap trick.
What we do to ourselves, we do to Him.
You could have had them pulled off in an accident.
(CHILDREN CLAMORING)
No. Children, I know you're trying to help,
but believe me, me mind's made up.
I've given this long and careful thought,
and it has to be medical experiments for the lot of you.
(CHILDREN GROANING)
(SINGING SADLY) Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
Look at them. Bloody Catholics. Filling the bloody world up
with bloody people they can't afford to bloody feed.
What are we, dear? Protestant, and fiercely proud of it.
Well, why do they have so many children?
Because every time they have sexual intercourse, they have to have a baby.
But it's the same with us, Harry. What do you mean?
Well, I mean we've got two children,
and we've had sexual intercourse twice.
That's not the point. We could have it any time we wanted.
Really? Oh, yes. And what's more,
because we don't believe in all that Papist claptrap,
we can take precautions.
What, you mean lock the door?
No, no. I mean because we are members of the Protestant Reformed Church,
which successfully challenged the autocratic power
of the Papacy in the mid-sixteenth century,
we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue.
What do you mean?
I could, if I wanted, have sexual intercourse with you.
Oh, yes, Harry.
And by wearing a rubber sheath over my old fellow,
I could ensure that when I came off, you would not be impregnated.
Ooh! That's what being a Protestant's all about.
That's why it's the church for me.
That's why it's the church for anyone
who respects the individual and the individual's right
to decide for him or herself.
When Martin Luther nailed his protest up to the church door in 1517,
he may not have realized the full significance of what he was doing
but 400 years later, thanks to him, my dear,
I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas.
And Protestantism doesn't stop at the simple condom. Oh, no!
I can wear French Ticklers if I want. You what?
French Ticklers, Black Mambos, Crocodile Ribs...
Sheaths that are designed not only to protect,
but also to enhance the stimulation of sexual congress.
Have you got one? Have I got one? Well, no,
but I can go down the road anytime I want and walk into Harry's
and hold my head up high and say, in a loud, steady voice,
"Harry, I want you to sell me a condom.
"In fact, today I think I'll have a French Tickler, for I am a Protestant."
Well, why don't you? But they, they cannot,
because their church never made the great leap out of the Middle Ages
and the domination of alien Episcopal supremacy.
NARRATOR 2: But despite the attempts of Protestants
to promote the idea of sex for pleasure,
children continue to multiply everywhere.
NARRATOR: The Meaning of Life, part two. Growth and learning.
INSTRUCTOR: And spotteth twice they the camels before the third hour.
And so the Midianites went forth to Ram Gilead,
in Kadesh Bilgemath,
by Shor Ethra Regalion,
to the house of Gash-Bil-Bethuel-Bazda,
he who brought the butter dish to Balshazar,
and the tent peg to the house of Rashomon,
and there, slew they the goats,
yea, and placed they the bits in little pots.
Here endeth the lesson.
Let us praise God.
O Lord. ALL: O Lord.
Ooh! You are so big.
ALL: Ooh! You are so big.
So absolutely huge.
ALL: So absolutely huge.
Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.
Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell you.
Forgive us, O Lord, for this, our dreadful toadying.
ALL: And barefaced flattery.
But you're so strong,
and, well, just so super.
ALL: Fantastic.
Amen, Reverend. Amen.
Now two boys have been found rubbing linseed oil
into the school cormorant.
Now some of you may feel that the cormorant does not play an important part
in the life of the school, but I would remind you
that it was presented to us by the corporation of the town of Sudbury,
to commemorate Empire Day, when we try to remember
the names of all those from the Sudbury area,
who so gallantly gave their lives
to keep China British.
So from now on, the cormorant is strictly out of bounds!
Oh, and, Jenkins,
apparently, your mother died this morning.
Chaplain.
ALL: (SINGING) O Lord, please don't burn us
Don't grill or toast Your flock
Don't put us on the barbecue
Or simmer us in stock
Don't braise or bake or boil us
Or stir-fry us in a wok
Oh, please don't lightly poach us
Or baste us with hot fat
Don't fricassee or roast us
Or boil us in a vat
And please don't stick thy servants, Lord
In a Rotissomat
(BELL RINGING)
He's coming!
(ALL CLAMORING)
All right, settle down, settle down.
Now, before I begin the lesson, will those of you
who are playing in the match this afternoon move your clothes down
onto the lower peg immediately after lunch,
before you write your letter home,
if you're not getting your hair cut, unless you've got a younger brother,
who's going out this weekend as the guest of another boy, in which case,
collect his note before lunch,
put it in your letter after you have had your haircut,
and make sure he moves your clothes down onto the lower peg for you.
Now... Sir?
Yes, Wymer?
My younger brother's going out with Dibble this weekend, sir.
But I'm not having my hair cut today, so do I move my clothes...
I do wish you'd listen, Wymer. It's perfectly simple.
If you're not getting your hair cut,
you don't have to move your brother's clothes down to the lower peg.
You simply collect his note before lunch,
after you've done your scripture prep,
when you've written your letter home before rest,
move your own clothes onto the lower peg,
greet the visitors and report to Mr. Viney
that you've had your chit signed.
Now, sex.
Sex, sex, sex. Where were we?
Well, had I got as far as
the penis entering the vagina?
No, sir. No, sir. No, sir.
Well, had I done foreplay?
STUDENTS: Yes, sir.
Ah. Well, as we all know all about foreplay,
no doubt you can tell me what the purpose of foreplay is.
Biggs.
Don't know. Sorry, sir.
Carter?
Oh, was it taking your clothes off, sir?
Well, and after that?
Oh, putting them on a lower peg, sir.
The purpose of foreplay is to cause the vagina to lubricate,
so that the penis can penetrate more easily.
Could we have a window open, please, sir?
Yes. Harris, will you?
And, of course, to cause the man's penis to erect
and harden.
(INHALING)
Now, did I do vaginal juices last week?
Oh, do pay attention, Wadsworth!
I know it's Friday. Watching the football, are you?
Boy, move over there. I'm warning you.
I may decide to set an exam this term.
Oh, sir! Sir!
So just listen.
Now did I or did I not
do vaginal juices?
STUDENTS: Yes, sir.
Name two ways of getting them flowing, Watson.
Rubbing the clitoris, sir?
What's wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm?
Why not start her off with a nice kiss?
You don't have to go leaping
straight for the clitoris like a bull at a gate.
Give her a kiss, boy.
Suck the nipple, sir? Good, good. Well done, Wymer.
Stroking the thighs, sir? Yes, yes.
I suppose so. Biting the neck.
Yes, good. Nibbling the earlobe,
kneading the buttocks and so on and so forth.
So we have all these possibilities,
before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson.
Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
Now, all these forms of stimulation
can now take place.
And, of course, tonguing will give you the best idea
of how the juices are coming along.
Helen? Now, penetration and coitus,
that is to say intercourse up to and including orgasm.
Ah, hello, dear. Do stand up when my wife enters the room, Carter.
Oh, sorry, sir. Sorry.
HELEN: Humphrey, I hope you don't mind.
I told the Garfields we would dine with them tonight.
Yes, yes, well, I suppose we must.
I said we'd be there by 8:00.
At least it'll give me a reason to wind up the staff meeting.
I know you don't like them, but I couldn't make another excuse.
It's just that I felt...
Wymer, this is for your benefit.
Would you kindly wake up?
I've no intention of going through this all again.
We'll take the foreplay as read, if you don't mind, dear.
No, of course not, Humphrey.
So, the man starts by entering or mounting his good lady wife,
in the standard way.
The penis is now, as you will observe, more or less fully erect.
There we are, that's better.
Now, Carter.
Yes, sir? What is it?
It's an ocarina, sir. Bring it up here.
The man now starts making thrusting movements with his pelvic area,
moving the penis up and down inside the vagina.
Put it there, boy. Put it there on the table.
While the wife maximizes her clitoral stimulation by the shaft of the penis,
by pushing forward.
Thank you, dear.
(SNICKERING) Now, as the sexual excitement mounts...
What's funny, Biggs?
Oh, nothing, sir.
Do, please, share your little joke with the rest of us.
I mean, obviously, something frightfully funny's going on.
No, honestly, sir.
Well, as it's so funny,
I think you'd better be selected to play for the boys' team,
in the rugby match against the masters this afternoon.
Oh, no, sir!
(MEN CHEERING)
MAN: Come on, Buster!
(SCREAMING)
Well played, well played.
(GROANS)
(BOYS GROANING)
(WHISTLE BLOWS)
(GROANING)
(WHISTLE BLOWS)
(GUNS FIRING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
(GUNFIRE)
(EXPLOSIONS)
NARRATOR: The Meaning of Life, part three. Fighting each other.
Okay, Blackitt, Sturridge and Walters, you take the buggers on the left flank.
Hordern, Spadger and I will go for the gun post.
Hang on, 68.
You'll never make it, let us come with you. Do as you're told, man.
Righto, Skipper. Oh, sir, sir?
(STAMMERING) If we don't meet again, sir.
I'd just like to say it's been a real privilege fighting alongside you, sir.
Yes, well, this is hardly the time or place for a goodbye speech, eh?
Me and the lads realize that, sir, but, well, we may never meet again, so...
Yes, all right, Blackitt. Thanks a lot.
No, just a moment, sir.
Me and the lads, we've had a little whip-around, sir.
We've bought you something, sir. We bought you this, sir.
Oh! Well, it... I don't know what to say.
It's a lovely thought. Thank you. Thank you all.
But I think we'd better get to cover...
(EXPLOSIONS)
We've got something else for you as well, sir.
Sorry it's another clock, sir, only there was a bit of a mix-up.
Walters thought he was buying a present
and Spadger and I had already got the other one.
Well, it's beautiful, they're both beautiful.
(GUN FIRING)
I think we'd better get to cover now.
I'll thank you properly later on.
Corporal Sturridge got this for you as well, sir.
He didn't know about the others.
It's Swiss. Well, now, that is thoughtful, Sturridge.
Good man. And there's a card, sir.
From all of us, sorry about the blood, sir.
Thank you all.
Squad! Three cheers for Captain Biggs.
Hip, hip. ALL: Hooray!
Hip, hip. Hooray!
(GUN FIRING) Hip, hip...
Blackitt! Blackitt!
I'll be all right, sir. There's just one other thing, sir.
Spadger, give him the check. Oh, yeah.
Oh, no, this is really going too far.
I don't seem to be able to find it, sir, be in number four trench.
For Christ's sake, forget it, man.
You shouldn't have said that, sir.
You've hurt his feelings, now.
Don't mind me, Spadge.
Toffs is all the same. One minute, it's all please and thank you.
The next, they'll kick you in the teeth. Yeah.
Let's not give him the cake. I don't want any cake.
Look, Blackitt cooked it especially for you, you bastard.
Yeah, he saved his rations for six weeks, sir.
I don't mean to be ungrateful.
(GUN FIRING) I'll be all right...
Blackie! Blackie!
Look at him! He worked on that cake like no one else I've ever known.
Some nights it was so cold we could hardly move
but Blackitt would be out there,
slicing the lemons, mixing the sugar and almonds.
I mean, you try getting butter to melt at 15 degrees below zero.
There's love in that cake, this man's love and this man's care and...
(GUN FIRING)
Oh, my Christ! You bastard.
All right, we will eat the cake. They're right.
It's too good a cake not to eat.
Get the plates and knives, Walters.
Yes, sir. How many plates?
Six.
(GUN FIRING)
Oh, better make it five. Tablecloth, sir?
Yes, get the tablecloth.
No, no, I'll get the tablecloth.
You better get the gate leg table, Hordern.
(GUN FIRING)
And the little lamp, sir? Yes.
Oh, and while you're at it, you'd better get a doily.
I'll bring two, sir, in case one gets crumpled.
Okay!
But, of course, warfare isn't all fun. Right. Stop that.
It's all very well to laugh at the military,
but when one considers the meaning of life,
it is a struggle between alternative viewpoints of life itself.
Without the ability to defend one's own viewpoint,
against other perhaps more aggressive ideologies,
then reasonableness and moderation could quite simply disappear.
That is why we'll always need an army.
May God strike me down were it to be otherwise.
Don't stand there gawping,
like you've never seen the hand of God before!
Now, today we're going to do marching up and down the square.
That is, unless any of you got anything better to do.
Well?
Anyone got anything they'd rather be doing,
than marching up and down the square?
Yes! Atkinson.
What would you rather be doing, Atkinson?
Well, to be quite honest, Sarge, I'd rather be home with the wife and kids.
Would you now?
Yes, Sarge. Right. Off you go.
Now,
everybody else happy with my little plan,
of marching up and down the square a bit?
Sarge? Yes?
I've got a book I'd quite like to read.
Go read your book then.
Now!
Everybody else quite content to join in
with my little scheme of marching
up and down the square?
Sarge?
Yes, Wyclif, what is it?
Well, I'm learning the piano.
Learning the piano?
Yes, Sarge. And I suppose
you want to go practice, eh?
Marching up and down the square not good enough for you, eh?
Well... Right! Off you go!
Now, what about the rest of you?
Rather be at the pictures, I suppose.
(ALL MUTTERING)
All right! Off you go!
Bloody army. I don't know what it's coming to.
Right. Sergeant Major marching up and down the square.
Left, right, left.
NARRATOR 2: Democracy and humanitarianism
have always been trademarks of the British Army.
SERGEANT MAJOR: Rubbish! Shh!
And have stamped its triumph in the furthest-flung corners of the Empire.
(ALL GRUNTING)
(PEOPLE ULULATING)
(BUGLE SOUNDING)
(GUNS FIRING)
But no matter where or when there was fighting to be done,
it has always been the calm leadership of the officer class
that has made the British Army what it is.
Excuse me.
Morning, Ainsworth. Morning, Pakenham.
Sleep well? Not bad. Bitten to shreds, though.
Must be that hole in the bloody mosquito net.
Yes, savage little blighters, aren't they?
Excuse me, sir. Yes, Chadwick?
I'm afraid Perkins got rather badly bitten during the night.
Well, so did we.
Yes, but I do think Doctor ought to see him.
Well, go and fetch him then. Right you are, sir.
Suppose I'd better go along. Coming, Pakenham?
Yes, I suppose so.
Here, now. Come on, boy.
(GUNS FIRING)
(ULULATING CONTINUES)
(SCREAMING)
Morning, Perkins.
Morning, sir. What's all the trouble, then?
Bitten, sir. During the night.
Oh?
The whole leg gone, eh? Yes.
How's it feel?
Stings a bit. Well, it would, wouldn't it?
That's quite a bite you've got there.
Yes. A real beauty, isn't it?
Any idea how it happened?
None whatsoever. Complete mystery to me.
Woke up just now, one sock too many.
You must have a hell of a hole in your net.
We've sent for the doctor.
Hardly worth it, is it? Yes. Better safe than sorry.
Yes. Good Lord, look at this. By Jove! That's enormous.
You don't think it'll come back, do you?
For more, you mean?
You're right. We'd better get this stitched.
Right. Hello, Doc!
Morning. I came as fast as I could. Is something up?
Yes. During the night, old Perkins got his leg bitten sort of off.
Oh, yeah. Been in the wars, have we?
Yes.
Any headache? Bowels all right?
Well, let's have a look at this one leg of yours, then, eh?
Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Yes, yes. Yes, yes. Yes, well, this is nothing to worry about.
Oh, good. There's a lot of it about. Probably a virus.
Keep warm, plenty of rest and if you're playing football or anything,
try and favor the other leg.
Oh, righto.
As right as rain in a couple of days.
Oh. Thanks for the reassurance, Doc.
Not at all. That's what I'm here for.
Any other problems I can reassure you about?
No, I'm fine.
Jolly good. Well, must be off.
So it'll just grow back again, then, will it?
Uh...
I think I'd better come clean with you about this.
It's not a virus, I'm afraid.
You see, a virus is what we doctors call very, very small,
so small it could not possibly have made off with a whole leg.
What we're looking for, and this is no more than an educated guess,
I'd like to make that clear,
is some multi-cellular life-form
with stripes, huge, razor-sharp teeth, about 11 -foot long
and of the genus Felis Horribilis.
What we doctors, in fact, call a tiger.
ALL: A tiger?
(PEOPLE ULULATING)
A tiger in Africa? Hmm?
A tiger in Africa!
Ah, well, it's probably escaped from a zoo.
Doesn't sound very likely to me.
Mmm-mmm-mmm. SOLDIER: Sir! Sir!
The attack's over, sir. The Zulus are retreating.
Oh, jolly good.
Quite a lot of casualties, sir.
C-division wiped out. Signals gone.
Thirty men killed in F-section. Yes, I see.
I should think about 150 men altogether, sir.
Jolly good.
I haven't got the final figures,
but there's a lot of seriously wounded in the compound...
Yes, well, the thing is, Sergeant, I've got a bit of a problem here.
One of the officers has lost a leg.
Oh, no, sir! I'm afraid so.
Probably a tiger. In Africa?
(MUMBLING)
The MO says we can stitch it back on if we can find it immediately.
Right, sir. I'll organize a party.
It's hardly the time for that, Sergeant.
A search party. Much better idea.
(BUGLE SOUNDING)
(SOLDIERS GROANING)
Sorry about the mess, sir.
We'll try and get it cleared up by the time you get back.
We showed 'em, didn't we, sir? Yes.
Here. We got a search party. Leave that alone.
All this killing, bloodshed. Bloody good fun, sir, isn't it?
Yes, very good.
SOLDIER: Morning, sir.
Nasty wound you've got there, fella.
Thank you very much, sir.
Come on, Private. Making up a search party.
Better than staying home, isn't it?
I mean, at home if you kill someone, they arrest you.
Here, they give you a gun and show you what to do, sir.
I mean, I killed 15 of those buggers, sir. At home, they'd hang me.
Here, they'll give me a fucking medal, sir.
(INSECTS CHITTERING)
(CLEARING THROAT)
Sorry, sir. Thank you, Sergeant Major.
Look!
My God! It's huge!
(TIGER GROWLING)
(MONKEYS SCREECHING)
Don't shoot. Don't shoot. We're not a tiger.
We were just...
Why are you dressed as a tiger?
Oh, why, why, why?
Isn't it a lovely day today?
Answer the question. Oh, we were just...
Well, actually, we're dressed like this because...
Oh, no, that's not it.
Oh, we did it for a laugh. Part of a spree. High spirits.
Simple as that. Nothing more to it.
Well, actually, we're on a mission for British Intelligence.
There's a pro-czarist Asante chief...
No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no.
We're doing it for an advertisement.
Ah, that's it. Forget about the Russians.
We're doing an advert for Tiger Brand Coffee.
"Tiger Brand Coffee is a real treat.
"Even tigers prefer a cup of it to real meat."
Now, look... All right, all right.
We are dressed as a tiger because he had an auntie who did it in 1839.
This is the 50th anniversary. No. We're doing it for a bet.
God told us to do it.
To tell the truth, we are completely mad.
We're inmates of a Bengali psychiatric institution,
and we escaped by making this skin out of old used cereal packets.
PERKINS: It doesn't matter! What?
It doesn't matter why they're dressed as a tiger. Have they got my leg?
Good thinking. Well, have you?
Actually... Yes?
We were thinking of training as taxidermists.
We wanted to get the feel of it from the animal's point of view.
Be quiet!
Now look, we're just asking you
if you've got this man's leg.
A wooden leg? No, no, a proper leg.
He was fast asleep, and someone or something came in and removed it.
Without waking him up?
Yes. I don't believe you.
We found the tiger skin in a bicycle shop in Cairo.
The owner wanted it taken to Dar Es Salaam.
Shut up!
Now look, have you or have you not got his leg?
Yes. No. No, no, no, no. No. No, no, no.
Why did you say yes? I didn't.
I'm not talking to you.
Um...
Right. Search the thicket.
Oh, come on. I mean, do we look like
the sort of chaps who'd creep into a camp at night,
steal into someone's tent, anaesthetize them, tissue-type them,
amputate a leg and run away with it?
Search the thicket.
Oh, leg! You're looking for a leg!
Actually, I think there is one there somewhere.
Somebody must have abandoned it here,
knowing you were coming after it.
We stumbled across it, actually, and wondered what it was.
They'll be miles away by now.
We'll have to take all the blame.
Hello, good evening and welcome to The Middle of the Film.
Hello and welcome to The Middle of the Film,
the moment where we take a break and invite you, the audience,
to join us, the filmmakers, in Find the Fish.
We're going to show you a scene from another film
and ask you to guess where the fish is.
But if you think you know, don't keep it to yourselves.
Yell out so that all the cinema can hear you.
So here we are with Find the Fish.
I wonder where that fish has gone.
You did love it so.
You looked after it like a son.
And it went wherever I did go.
Is it in the cupboard? AUDIENCE: Yes! No!
Wouldn't you like to know? It was a lovely little fish.
And it went wherever I did go.
MAN: It's behind the sofa! Where can that fish be?
MAN 2: Have you thought of the drawers in the bureau?
It is a most elusive fish.
And it went wherever I did go.
Oh! Fishy, fishy, fishy, fish.
Fish, fish, fishy, oh!
Oh! Fishy, fishy, fishy, fish!
That went wherever I did go.
MAN 3: Look up his trunk! MAN 4: Yeah! It's in his trousers!
That was terrific! Great! Yeah!
Best bit so far. Fantastic! Really great!
Really risky, yeah.
They haven't said much about the meaning of life so far, have they?
Well, it's been building up to it. Has it?
Yeah, I expect they'll get onto it now.
Personally, I doubt
they're going to say anything about the meaning of life at all.
Oh, come on. They've gotta say something.
They're bound to.
Yeah.
What do you think the next bit will be?
Caption, I expect.
What, about the next stage of life, you mean? Oh, yeah. Here we go.
NARRATOR: Middle Age.
FISH: Could've guessed it.
That's much better. Thank you, honey.
You're welcome.
It was all sort of misty before.
(CAMERA CLICKING)
That's fine. Hey! How are you?
Oh, we're just fine.
What kind of food you like to eat this evening?
Well, we sort of like pineapple.
Yeah, we love pineapple.
Yeah, anything with pineapple in is great for us.
Well, how 'bout the dungeon room?
Oh, that sounds fine.
Sure is. It's real Hawaiian food,
served in an authentic medieval English dungeon atmosphere.
(MAN GROANING)
(HAWAIIAN MUSIC PLAYING)
(MAN GROANING)
Isn't this nice? How are ya?
Take a little Kodak. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.
(SCATTING)
(MAN GROANING)
(MUSIC STOPS)
Good evening. Would you care for something to talk about?
Oh, that would be wonderful.
Our special tonight is minorities.
Oh, that sounds real interesting.
What's this conversation here? That's football.
You can talk about the Steelers-Bears game Saturday,
or you could reminisce about really great World Series.
No, no, no. What is this one here?
That's philosophy. Is that a sport?
No, it's more of an attempt
to construct a viable hypothesis to explain the meaning of life.
What was that? What's he saying?
Oh, that sounds wonderful.
Would you like to talk about the meaning of life, darling?
Sure. Why not?
Philosophy for two? Right.
Room? 259.
Yeah.
(STAMMERING) How do we...
Oh, you folks want me to start you off?
We'd appreciate that.
Okay! Well, look.
Have you ever wondered just why you're here?
Well, we went to Miami last year and California the year before...
No, no, no. I mean, why we're here, on this planet.
No.
Right. You ever wanted to know what it's all about?
Nope.
Righty-ho! Well,
see, throughout history, there've been certain men and women,
who've tried to find the solution to the mysteries of existence.
Great!
And we call these guys philosophers.
Oh! And that's what we're talking about.
Right! Oh, that's neat.
Well, you look like you're getting the idea,
so why don't I give you these conversation cards.
They'll tell you a little about philosophical method, names of famous philosophers.
There you are. Have a nice conversation.
Oh, thank you very much.
He's cute. Yeah, real understanding.
Oh! I never knew Schopenhauer was a philosopher.
Oh, yeah. He's the one that begins with an "S."
Oh.
Like Nietzsche.
Does Nietzsche begin with an "S"?
There's an "S" in Nietzsche.
Oh, well, yes, there is.
Do all philosophers have an "S" in them?
Yeah. I think most of them do.
Oh. Does that mean Salena Jones is a philosopher?
Yeah! Right! She could be.
She sings about the meaning of life.
Yeah. That's right, but I don't think she writes her own material.
No. Oh, maybe Schopenhauer writes her material.
No. Burt Bacharach writes it.
There's no "S" in Burt Bacharach.
Or in Hal David.
Who's Hal David?
He writes the lyrics. Burt just writes the tunes.
Only now, he's married to Carole Bayer Sager.
Waiter? This conversation isn't very good.
Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We do have one today that's not on the menu.
It's sort of a specialty of the house, you know?
Live organ transplants.
Live organ transplants? What's that?
NARRATOR: The Meaning of Life, part five. Live organ transplants.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
Don't worry, dear. I'll get it.
(COUGHING)
(HAVA NAGILA PLAYING)
Yes? Hello. Can we have your liver?
What? Your liver.
It's a large glandular organ in your abdomen.
You know, it's reddish-brown, it's sort of...
Yeah, yeah, I know what it is, but I'm using it.
Come on, sir. Don't muck us about. Hey, hey, hey!
Hello!
What's this, then? A liver donor's card.
Need we say more? No.
Listen, I can't give it to you now. It says, "In the event of death."
My God!
No one has ever had their liver taken out by us and survived.
Just lie there, sir. It won't take a minute.
(SCREAMING)
Here. What's going on?
He's donating his liver, madam.
Is this because he took out one of those silly cards?
That's right, madam. Typical of him.
He goes down to the public library, sees a few signs up,
comes home all full of good intentions.
He gives blood, does cold research, all that sort of thing.
(SCREAMING)
What do you do with them all, anyway?
They all go to saving lives, madam.
That's what he used to say.
"It's all for the good of the country," he used to say.
(MAN GASPING)
Do you think it's all for the good of the country?
Hmm?
Do you think it's all for the good of the country?
I wouldn't know about that, madam.
We're just doing our jobs, you know?
(MAN SCREAMING)
You're not doctors, then?
Oh, blimey, no.
Mum, Dad, I'm off out now.
I'll see you about 7:00? Righto, son.
Look after yourself.
(MAN SCREAMING)
You fancy a cup of tea?
Oh, well, that'd be very nice. Thank you.
Thank you very much, madam. Thank you.
I thought she'd never ask.
You do realize
he has to be, well, dead, by the terms of the card,
before he donates his liver.
Well, I told him that, but he never listens to me, silly man.
I mean, I was wonderin'...
Well, you know, what you was thinkin' of doin' after that.
I mean, will you stay on your own?
Or is there, well, someone else, sort of,
on the horizon?
I'm too old for that sort of thing. I'm past my prime.
Not at all. Very attractive woman.
Well, I'm certainly not thinking of getting hitched up again.
Sure? Sure.
Can we have your liver then? I would be scared.
All right.
I'll tell you what.
Listen to this.
(SINGING) Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown
And things seem hard or tough
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
and you feel that you've had
quite enough.
Just remember that you're standing
On a planet that's evolving
And revolving at 900 miles an hour
It's orbiting at 19 miles a second so it's reckoned
A sun that is the source of all our power
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm at 40,000 miles an hour
Of the galaxy we call the Milky Way
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side
It bulges in the middle 16,000 light years thick
But out by us, it's just 3,000 light years wide
We're 30,000 light years from galactic central point
We go round every 200 million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go The speed of light, you know
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is
So remember when you're feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth
(SIGHS)
Makes you feel so, sort of insignificant, doesn't it?
Yeah. Yeah.
Can we have your liver, then?
Yeah, all right. You talked me into it.
Eric!
Which brings us, once again, to the urgent realization
of just how much there is still left to own.
Item six on the agenda, the Meaning of Life.
Now, Harry, you've had some thoughts on this.
I've had a team working on this over the past few weeks,
and what we've come up with can be reduced to two fundamental concepts.
One. People are not wearing enough hats.
Two. Matter is energy.
In the universe, there are many energy fields which we cannot normally perceive.
Some energies have a spiritual source, which act upon a person's soul.
However, this soul does not exist ab initio,
as orthodox Christianity teaches.
It has to be brought into existence,
by a process of guided self-observation.
However, this is rarely achieved, owing to man's unique ability
to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia.
What was that about hats again?
Oh, people aren't wearing enough.
Is this true?
Certainly. Hat sales have increased,
but not pari passu, as our research...
When you say "enough," enough for what purpose?
Can I just ask, with reference to your second point,
when you say souls don't develop because people become distracted...
Has anyone noticed that building there before?
What? Good Lord!
(MAN SCREAMING)
Good Lord!
The Crimson Permanent Assurance!
ANNOUNCER: We interrupt this film to apologize for this unwarranted attack
by the supporting feature.
Luckily, we have been prepared for this eventuality
and are now taking steps to remedy it.
Thank you.
NARRATOR: The Meaning of Life, part six. The autumn years.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
Here's a little number I tossed off recently in the Caribbean.
(SINGING) Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong
It's swell to have a stiffy It's divine to own a dick
From the tiniest little tadger to the world's biggest prick
So three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend, your Percy or your cock
You can wrap it up in ribbons You can slip it in your sock
But don't take it out in public or they will stick you in the dock
And you won't come back
Thank you very much.
Oh, what a frightfully witty song.
Terribly clever.
Jolly good. Marvelous.
Oh, shit! It's Mr. Creosote!
Good afternoon, sir, and how are we today?
Better. Better?
Better get a bucket. I'm gonna throw up.
Gaston? A bucket for monsieur.
There we are, monsieur.
Merci, Gaston. I haven't finished.
Oh, pardon! Gaston?
A thousand pardons, monsieur.
Now, this afternoon, we have monsieur's favorite, the jugged hare.
The hare is very high and the sauce is very rich,
with truffles, anchovies, Grand Marnier, bacon and cream.
Thank you, Gaston. There's still more.
Allow me.
A new bucket for monsieur.
And the cleaning woman.
Et maintenant, would monsieur care for an aperitif,
or would he prefer to order straightaway?
Today, we have for appetizers, excuse me,
moules marinières, pâté de foie gras, beluga caviar,
eggs Benedictine, tarte de poireaux, that's leek tart,
frogs' legs amandine or oeufs de caille Richard Shepherd.
C'est a dire, little quails' eggs on a bed of puréed mushrooms.
It's very delicate, very succulent.
I'll have the lot.
A wise choice, monsieur. And now, how would you like it served?
All mixed up together in a bucket?
Yeah. With the eggs on top.
But of course. Avec des oeufs frites.
Don't skimp on the pâté.
Oh, monsieur, I assure you,
just because it is mixed up with all the other things,
we would not dream of giving you less than the full amount.
In fact, I will personally make sure you have a double helping.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
Something to drink, monsieur?
Yeah, I'll have six bottles of Chateau Latour '45,
and a double Jeroboam of champagne. '45.
Bon, and the usual brown ales?
Yeah. No, wait a minute. I think I could only manage six crates today.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
I hope monsieur was not overdoing it last night.
Shut up! D'accord.
The new bucket and the cleaning woman.
Is there something wrong with the food?
No, the food was excellent.
Perhaps you're not happy with the service?
(STAMMERING) No, no complaints.
It's just that we have to go. I'm having rather a heavy period.
And we have a train to catch.
Oh! Yes, of course. We have a train to catch
and I don't want to start bleeding all over the seats.
Madam? Perhaps we should be going?
Very well, monsieur. Thank you so much.
So nice to see you,
and I hope very much we will see you again very soon.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(BUCKET CLANGING)
Oh, dear. I have trodden in monsieur's bucket.
Another bucket for monsieur,
and perhaps a hose.
Oh, Max. Really!
(RETCHING)
(PANTING)
Finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint.
(EXCLAIMING IN DISGUST)
Oh, sir, it's only a tiny, little thin one.
No, fuck off. I'm full. Oh, sir.
It's only wafer-thin.
Look, I couldn't eat another thing. I'm absolutely stuffed.
Bugger off. Oh, sir, just, just one.
All right, just one. Just the one, monsieur.
Voila.
Bon appetit.
(EXPLODING)
(PEOPLE EXCLAIMING)
(PEOPLE COUGHING)
(MAN RETCHING)
Thank you, monsieur, and now, here's your check.
(PEOPLE GAGGING)
NARRATOR: The Meaning of Life, part 6B. The meaning of life.
You know, Maria, I sometimes wonder
if we'll ever discover the meaning of it all,
working in a place like this.
Well, I've worked in worse places, philosophically speaking.
Really, Maria? Yes.
I used to work in the Academie Française,
but it didn't do me any good at all.
I once worked in the library in the Prado in Madrid,
but it didn't teach me nothin', I recall,
and the Library of Congress you'd have thought would hold some key,
but it didn't, and neither did the Bodleian Library.
In the British Museum, I hoped to find some clue.
I worked there from 9:00 till 6:00, read every volume through,
but it didn't teach me nothing about life's mystery.
I just kept getting older, and it got more difficult to see.
Till eventually, me eyes went and me arthritis got bad.
So now, I'm cleaning up in here.
But I can't be really sad,
'cause you see, I feel that life's a game.
You sometimes win or lose,
and though I may be down right now,
at least I don't work for Jews.
I'm so sorry.
I had no idea we had a racist working here.
(STAMMERING) I apologize most sincerely.
I mean...
Where are you going? No, I can explain...
As for me...
If you want to know what I think, I'll show you something.
Come with me. WAITER: I was saying that...
Hello? Come on.
WAITER: Hello?
Hello! This way.
Come on. Don't be shy.
Mind the stairs, all right?
I think this will help explain.
Come along. Come along.
Over here.
Come on. Come on.
(TIRES SCREECHING)
(HORNS BLARING)
This way.
Come on.
This way.
Stay by me.
Nearly there now.
(CROWS CAWING)
You see that?
That's where I was born.
You know, one day, my mother,
she put me on her knee and she said to me,
"Gaston, my son,
"the world is a beautiful place.
"You must go into it and love everyone."
"Try to make everyone happy and bring peace and contentment,
"everywhere you go."
So I became a waiter.
Well, it's not much of a philosophy, I know.
Well, fuck you.
I can live my own life in my own way if I want to.
Fuck off.
Don't come following me.
NARRATOR: The Meaning of Life, part seven. Death.
(SEAGULLS CAWING)
NARRATOR: This man is about to die.
In a few moments now, he will be killed,
for Arthur Jarrett is a convicted criminal,
who has been allowed to choose the manner of his own execution.
There he is.
(WOMEN PANTING)
Arthur Charles Herbert Runcie MacAdam Jarrett,
you have been convicted by 12 good persons, and true,
of the crime of first degree making of gratuitous sexist jokes,
in a moving picture.
(ARTHUR SCREAMING)
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
(LEAF SOBBING)
LEAF: (SOBBING) It's no good.
(STAMMERING) I just can't go on. I'm no good anymore.
I want to end it all!
(WIND BLOWING) Goodbye! Goodbye!
(SCREAMING)
FEMALE LEAF: Oh, my God!
(SOBBING) Oh, no! I...
What'll I do? I can't live without him! I...
(SCREAMING)
BOY LEAF: Mummy! GIRL LEAF: Mum, where are you?
(GIRL LEAF GASPING) Daddy? Mummy?
GIRL LEAF: Mummy?
(BOTH SCREAMING)
(ALL SCREAMING)
(DOG BARKING)
(BELL TOLLING)
(WIND HOWLING)
Yes?
Is it about the hedge?
Well, I'm awfully sorry, but... I am the Grim Reaper.
Who? The Grim Reaper.
Yes, I see. I am Death.
Yes, well, the thing is,
we've got some people from America for dinner tonight...
WOMAN: Who is it, darling? It's a Mr. Death or something.
He's come about the reaping? I don't think we need any at the moment.
Hello. Don't leave him hanging around outside, darling. Ask him in.
I don't think it's quite the moment.
Do come in. Come along.
Come and have a drink. Do. Come on.
(CHATTERING)
It's one of the little men from the village.
Do come in. Please.
This is Howard Katzenberg from Philadelphia.
Hi. And his wife, Debbie.
Hello, there.
And these are the Portland Smythes, Jeremy and Fiona.
Good evening. This is Mr. Death.
Do get Mr. Death a drink, darling. MAN: Yes.
Mr. Death is a reaper.
The Grim Reaper.
Hardly surprising in this weather.
So you still reap around here, do you, Mr. Death?
I am the Grim Reaper.
That's about all he says.
There's your drink, Mr. Death. Do sit down.
We were just talking about some of the awful problems facing the Third...
(GLASS SHATTERING)
Would you prefer white? I'm afraid we don't have any beer.
The Stilton's awfully good.
I am not of this world.
Good Lord.
I am Death.
Well, isn't that extraordinary?
We were just talking about death only five minutes ago.
Yes, we were. You know, whether death is really the end...
As my husband Howard here feels, or whether there is,
and one so hates to use words like soul or spirit...
What other words can one use? Exactly.
You do not understand.
No. Obviously not.
I'll tell you something, Mr. Death... You don't...
Just one moment. I'd like to express on behalf of everybody here,
what a really unique experience this is.
JEREMY: Hear, hear. Yes, we're so delighted
that you dropped in, Mr. Death.
Can I just finish, please? DEBBIE: Mr. Death.
Is there an afterlife?
Dear, if you could just wait, please...
Are you sure you wouldn't like some sherry or...
Angela, I'd like to say this, please.
Be quiet!
Can I just say this at this time, please?
Silence! I have come for you.
You mean to...
Take you away.
That is my purpose.
I am Death.
Well, that's cast rather a gloom over the evening, hasn't it?
I don't see it that way, Geoff.
Let me tell you what I think we're dealing with here,
a potentially positive learning experience that can...
Shut up! Shut up, you American.
You always talk, you Americans.
You talk and you talk and you say,
"Let me tell you something" and "I just wanna say this."
Well, you're dead now, so shut up!
Dead? Dead.
All of us? All of you.
Now look here.
You barge in here quite uninvited, break glasses,
and then announce quite casually that we're all dead.
Well, I would remind you that you're a guest in this house...
Be quiet! Englishmen! You're all so fucking pompous!
None of you have got any balls.
Can I ask you a question? What?
How can we all have died at the same time?
The salmon mousse.
Darling, you didn't use canned salmon, did you?
I'm most dreadfully embarrassed.
Now the time has come.
Follow. Follow me.
Just testing. Sorry.
Follow me. Now.
Come.
The fishmonger promised me he'd have some fresh salmon.
He's normally so reliable.
Can we take our glasses? Good idea.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
Hey, I didn't even eat the mousse.
ANGELA: Honestly, darling, I'm so embarrassed.
It really is embarrassing. I mean, to serve salmon with botulism
at a dinner party is social death.
(ALL CHATTERING)
Shall we take our cars? Why not?
Good idea. Why not?
(ENGINE STARTING)
Behold Paradise.
I love it here, darling. Me, too, Marvin.
Hello. Welcome to heaven.
(ELEVATOR MUSIC PLAYING)
Excuse me. Could you just sign here, please, sir?
Thank you.
There's a table for you through there, in the restaurant.
Thank you.
For the ladies. Afterlife mints.
Thank you. Happy Christmas.
(TELEPHONE RINGING) Oh, is it Christmas today?
Of course, madam.
It's Christmas every day in heaven.
Oh! How 'bout that? Lovely.
(PEOPLE GREETING)
(DRUM BEAT)
(ALL MURMURING)
(PEOPLE SHUSHING)
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
It's truly a real honorable experience to be here this evening,
a very wonderful and warm
and emotional moment for all of us.
And I'd like to sing a song,
for all of you.
(SINGING) It's Christmas in heaven All the children sing
It's Christmas in heaven
Hark, hark, those church bells ring
It's Christmas in heaven
The snow falls from the sky
But it's nice and warm and everyone
Looks smart and wears a tie
It's Christmas in heaven
There's great films on TV
The Sound of Music twice an hour
And Jaws I, II and III
There's gifts for all the family
There's toiletries and trains
THREE KINGS: (SINGING) There's Sony Walkman headphone sets
And the latest video games
It's Christmas It's Christmas in heaven
Hip, hip, hip, hip hip hooray
Every single day
Is Christmas Day
It's Christmas It's Christmas in heaven
Hip, hip, hip, hip hip hooray
Every single day is...
Well, that's the end of the film.
Now here's the meaning of life.
Thank you, Brigitte.
(CLEARING THROAT)
Well, it's nothing very special.
"Try and be nice to people. Avoid eating fat.
"Read a good book every now and then. Get some walking in,
"and try and live together in peace and harmony
"with people of all creeds and nations."
And finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises,
to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark some sort of controversy,
which is the only way these days to get the jaded video-sated public
off their fucking arses and back in the sodding cinema.
Family entertainment? Bollocks. What they want is filth.
People doing things to each other
with chainsaws during Tupperware parties,
baby-sitters being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates,
vigilante groups strangling chickens,
armed bands of theater critics exterminating mutant goats.
Where's the fun in pictures? Oh, well, there we are.
Here's the theme music. Good night.
(SINGING) Just remember that you're standing on a planet
That's evolving and revolving at 900 miles an hour
It's orbiting at 19 miles a second, so it's reckoned
A sun that is the source of all our power
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm at 40,000 miles an hour
Of the galaxy we call the Milky Way
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side
It bulges in the middle 16,000 light years thick
But out by us, it's just 3,000 light years wide
We're 30,000 light years from galactic central point
We go round every 200 million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go at the speed of light, you know
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is
So remember when you're feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth