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Owl-Stretching Time

[SCREAMS]

[GRUNTS]

[GASPING]

[PANTING]

It's...

NARRATOR: Monty Python's Flying Circus.

[♪]

♪ And did those teeth In ancient time ♪

♪ Walk upon England's Mountains green? ♪

Well, hello there again, ladies and gentlemen.

At this time, we'd like to up the tempo a little, change the mood.

We've got a number requested by Pip, Pauline, Nigel, Tarquin, and old Spotty, Tarquin's mother.

It's a little number specially written for the pubescence of ex-king Zog of Albania.

And it's entitled "Art Gallery." Hope you like it.

Hello, Marge.

Oh, hello, Janet. How are you, love?

Fancy seeing you. How's little Ralph?

Oh, don't ask me. He's been nothing but trouble all morning.

Stop it, Ralph. Stop it.

[SLAPS]

Same as my Kevin. Nothing but trouble.

Leave it alone. [SLAPS]

He's just been in the Florentine Room and smeared tomato ketchup all over Raphael's Baby Jesus.

Oh, dear.

Put that Baroque masterpiece down.

Well, we've just come from the Courtauld, and Ralph smashed every exhibit but one in the Danish contemporary- sculpture exhibition.

Just like my Kevin.

-Show him an exhibition... -Really.

...of early 18th-century Dresden pottery and he goes berserk.

No. I said no, and I meant no. [SLAPS]

This morning we were viewing the early Flemish masters of the Renaissance and Mannerist schools, when he takes out his black aerosol and squirts Vermeer's Lady At A Window.

Still. Still, it's not as bad as spitting, is it?

No. Well, Kevin knows--

[SLAPS]

--if he spits at a painting,

I'll never take him to an exhibition again.

Ralph used to spit.

He could hit a van Gogh at 30 yards. Yes.

But he knows now it's wrong, don't you, Ralph?

Ralph. Stop it. Stop it.

Stop chewing that Turner.

You are.

You're a naughty, naughty, vicious little boy. [SLAPPING]

-[SLAPS] -Oh, look at that.

The Fighting Temeraire ruined. What shall I do?

Well, don't do a thing with it, love.

Just put it in the bin over there.

-Really? -Yes. Take my word for it, Marge.

Kevin's eaten most of the early 19th-century British landscape artists, and I've learned not to worry.

As a matter of fact, I feel a bit peckish myself.

Yes. I never--

I never used to like Turner.

No.

I don't know much about art, but I know what I like.

Yes.

[MUMBLES]

I think Utrillo's brushwork is fantastic.

But it doesn't always agree with me.

[HICCUPS, GRUNTS]

Not after a Rubens, anyway.

Mm. All those cherries.

[GROANS, GRUNTING]

Got Vermeer all down me shirt.

[GROANS]

Watteau, dear?

What a terrible joke.

But it's my only line.

All right, you didn't have to say it.

-You could've kept quiet for a change. -But it's my only line.

That's typical. Talk, talk, natter, natter.

♪ Bring me my arrows ♪

♪ Of desire ♪

♪ Bring me my spear ♪

♪ O clouds unfold ♪

♪ Bring me my chariot of fire ♪

COLONEL: Right, cut to me.

As officer commanding the regular army's Advertising Division,

I object, in the strongest possible terms, to this obvious reference to our own slogan,

"It's a dog's life--

Eh, man's life. --in the modern army."

And I warn this program that any recurrence of this sloppy, long-haired, civilian plagiarism will be dealt with most severely.

Right, now, on the command, "cut," camera will cut to camera two.

All right, director.

COLONEL: Wait for it.

Camera, cut.

This is my only line.

MAN 1: Pathetic. MAN 2: Aw! MAN 3: Aw!

Well, it's my only line.

-MAN 1: No good. It's pathetic. -[BLOWS RASPBERRY]

[CHOIR SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

Hmm.

[SEA GULLS SQUAWKING]

[BLOWS RASPBERRY]

[♪]

[BURLESQUE MUSIC PLAYING OVER SPEAKER]

[CROWD CHEERING]

WOMAN:

Quiet, quiet, quiet.

Now, quiet. Wait a minute.

I've already warned this program about infringing the army copyright of our slogan:

"It's a pig's life-- Man's life.

--in the modern army."

And I'm warning you, if it happens again,

I shall come down on this program like a ton of bricks.

Right. Carry on, sergeant major.

Sir.

-Good evening, class. -ALL: Good evening.

-Where's all the others, then? -ALL: Not here.

I can see that. What's the matter with them?

ALL: Don't know.

Perhaps they've got flu.

Flu? Flu?

They've been eating too much fresh fruit.

Right. Now, self-defense.

Tonight, I shall be carrying on from where I got to last week when I was showing you how to defend yourself against anyone who attacks you armed with a piece of fresh fruit.

[ALL GROAN]

You promised you wouldn't do fruit this week.

-What do you mean? -We done fresh fruit the last nine weeks.

What's wrong with fruit? Think you know it all, eh?

Can we do something else for a change?

Like someone who attacks you with a pointed stick?

Pointed sticks?

Oh, oh, oh. We want to learn how to defend ourselves against pointed sticks, do we?

Getting all high-and-mighty, eh?

Fresh fruit not good enough for you, eh?

Oh, oh, oh, oh.

Well, I'll tell you something, my lad.

When you're walking home tonight and some homicidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries, don't come crying to me.

Right, the passion fruit.

When your assailant lunges at you with a passion fruit, thus:

ALL: We've done the passion fruit.

-What? -We've done the passion fruit.

We done oranges, apples, grapefruits--

Whole and segments.

--pomegranates, greengages.

Grapes, passion fruit.

-Lemons. -Plums.

Yeah, and mangoes in syrup.

How about cherries?

ALL: We done them.

-Red and black? -ALL: Yes.

All right, then.

Bananas.

[ALL GROAN]

-We haven't done them, have we? -No.

Right. Bananas.

How to defend yourself against a man armed with a banana.

Here, you, take this.

Now, it's quite simple to defend yourself against the banana fiend.

First of all, you force him to drop the banana.

Next, you eat the banana, thus disarming him.

You have now rendered him helpless.

Suppose he's got a bunch?

Shut up.

Supposing he's got a pointed stick.

Shut up. Right, now, you, Mr. Apricot.

-Harrison. -Oh, Mr. Harrison.

Come at me with that banana. Come on, attack me with it.

As hard as you like. Come on.

No, no, no, no, no.

Put something into it for God's sake.

Hold it like that:

Scream. Now, come on.

Come on, attack me. Come on, come on.

-[SCREAMS] -Come on.

Now...

Now I eat the banana.

He's dead. You shot him.

-He's completely dead. -Completely dead.

-You've shot him. -Right, right.

I have now eaten the banana.

The deceased Mr. Apricot is now disarmed.

You shot him. You shot him dead.

Well, he was attacking me with a banana.

Well, you told him to.

Look, I'm only doing me job.

I have to show you how to defend yourself against fresh fruit.

And pointed sticks.

Shut up.

Supposing someone come at you with a banana and you haven't got a gun.

Run for it.

Well, you could stand and--

Could stand and scream for help.

Yeah, yeah. You try that with a pineapple down your windpipe.

-Pineapple? -Where? Where? Where?

Nowhere. I was just saying "pineapple".

Blimey, I thought my number was on that one.

What, on the pineapple?

-Where? Where? -No, no. I was just repeating it.

Oh, I see. Right. Whoa. Uh, that's the banana then.

Next, the raspberry.

Harmless-looking thing, isn't it?

-Now, you, Mr. Tinned-Peach-- -Thompson.

Mr. Thompson, come at me with that raspberry.

Come on, be as vicious as you like with it.

-No. -Why not?

-You'll shoot me. -I won't.

You shot Mr. Harrison.

That was self-defense.

Come on. I promise I won't shoot you.

You promised you'd tell us about pointed sticks.

Shut up. Now, brandish that-- Brandish that raspberry.

Come on, be as vicious as you like with it. Come on.

-No. Throw the gun away. -I haven't got a gun.

-Oh, yes, you have. -I haven't.

You have. You shot Mr. Harrison with it.

Oh, that gun.

-Throw it away. -All right.

How to defend yourself against a raspberry, without a gun.

-You were gonna shoot me! -I wasn't, I wasn't, I wasn't.

-You were. -No, I wasn't. Come on.

Come on, you worm. You miserable little man.

Come at me, then. Come on, do your worst, you worm.

[SCREAMS]

If anyone ever attacks you with a raspberry, simply pull the lever, and the 16-ton weight will drop on his head.

I learnt that in Malaya.

Suppose you haven't got the 16-ton weight.

Well, that's planning, isn't it? Forethought.

Well, how many 16-ton weights are there?

Look. Look, smarty pants.

The 16-ton weight is just one way--

Just one way.

--of killing the raspberry killer.

There are millions of others.

-Like what? -Shoot him.

Well, supposing you haven't got a gun or a 16-ton weight.

All right, clever dick. All right, clever dick.

You two, come at me with raspberries.

There you are, a whole basket each.

Come on. Come at me with them.

-No gun? -No.

-No 16-ton weight? -No.

-No pointed stick? -Shut up.

-No rocks up in the ceiling? -No.

You won't kill us?

-I won't kill you. -Promise?

I promise I won't kill you. Now, are you gonna attack me?

-All right. -All right.

Right, now, don't rush me this time.

I'm gonna turn me back, so you can stalk me, right?

Come up as quietly as you can, right, close-up behind me.

Then in with the raspberries, right?

Start moving.

Now, the first thing to do when you're being stalked by an ugly mob with raspberries is to release the tiger.

-[GROWLS] -[BOTH SCREAMING]

The great advantage of the tiger in unarmed combat is that it not only eats the raspberry-laden foe but also the raspberries.

The tiger, however, does not relish the peach.

The peach assailant should be attacked with a crocodile.

Right. Now, the rest of you, I know you're there.

Lurking under the floorboards with your damsons and your prunes.

Hiding behind the wall bars with your quinces.

Well, I'm ready for you.

I've wired myself up to 200 tons of gelignite.

And if any of you so much as tries anything, we'll all go up together.

I warned you. I warned you. Right, that's it.

[GRUNTS]

Say, have I shown you my last operation?

Now, we've got to find that tumor.

[MUMBLING]

A-ha!

Now, where does it go?

[MUTTERING] Uh, no.

No, no.

[GLASS SHATTERING, RESONATING]

MAN: Bloody hell.

[MAN HUMMING]

[CLEARS THROAT]

It's a lot of clothing, sir.

♪ And did those feet ♪

♪ In ancient times ♪

♪ Walk upon England's Mountains green? ♪

Well, now we'd like to alter the mood a little.

We'd like to bring you something for Mum and Dad,

Annie and Roger, Mazarin and Louis, and all of Versailles.

It's a little number called "England's Mountains Green."

Hope you like it.

♪ And did those feet ♪

♪ In ancient time-- ♪

[SHEEP BRAYING]

Yes, you know, it's a man's life in England's mountains green.

What? I heard that, I heard that.

I'm going to stop this sketch now.

And if there's any more of this,

I'm going to stop the whole program.

I thought it was supposed to be about teeth.

Why can't you do something about teeth? Go on.

What about my rustic monologue?

I'm not sleeping with that producer again.

ANNOUNCER: Excitement.

Drama.

Action.

Violence.

Fresh fruit. Passion.

Thrills.

Spills.

Romance.

Adventure.

All the things you can read about in a book.

Ah. Oh.

Good morning. I'd like to buy a book, please.

Well, I'm afraid we don't have any.

-[CLEARS THROAT] -I'm sorry?

Uh, we don't have any books. We're fresh out of them. Good morning.

What are all these?

All what? Oh, all these... these...

[CHUCKLES] You're referring to... to these, um...

-books. -Yes.

They're, um... [BLOWS RASPBERRY]

They're all sold. Good morning.

What, all of them?

Every single one of them.

Not a single one of 'em in an unsold state.

-Good morning. -Who to?

-What? -Who are they sold to?

Oh, various...

[SIGHS]

Good Lord, is that the time? Oh, my goodness. I must close for lunch.

-It's only half past 10. -Ah, yes.

Well, I feel rather peckish. Very peckish.

I don't suspect I'll open again today.

I think I'll have a really good feed.

Look at that lovely bookshop just across the road.

They've got a much better selection than we've got, probably at ridiculously low prices.

Just across the road there. Good morning.

But I was told to come here.

Well...

Well, I see.

[CLEARS THROAT]

I hear the gooseberries are doing well this year.

And so are the mangoes.

I'm sorry?

Oh, I was just saying, thinking of the weather,

I hear the gooseberries are doing well this year.

And so are the mangoes.

Hm. Mine aren't.

-Go on. -What?

Go on. "Mine aren't, but..."

What?

Aren't you gonna say, "Mine aren't, but the Big Cheese gets his

-at low tide tonight"? -No.

Oh, ah. Good morning.

Wait. Who sent you?

Uh, the little old lady in the sweet shop.

She didn't have a dueling scar here and a hook?

-No. -No, of course not.

I was thinking of somebody else. Good morning.

Wait a minute. There's something going on here.

What? Where? You didn't see anything, did you?

No, but I think there's something going on here.

No, no, well, there's nothing going on here, and he didn't see anything. Good morning.

There is something going on.

No, there is nothing going on. Please believe me, there is absolu-lu-lu-lutely nothing going on.

Is there anything going on?

No, there's nothing going on.

-See? There's nothing going on. -Who was that?

[STAMMERING] That-- My aunt.

What was this book you wanted? Quickly. Quickly.

Oh. Uh, well, I'd like to buy a copy of An Illustrated History of False Teeth.

My God, you've got guts.

What?

-Just how much do you know? -What about?

Are you from the British Dental Association?

No, I'm a tobacconist.

-Get away from that door. -I'll just go over--

Stay where you are. You'll never leave this bookshop alive.

-Why not? -You know too much, my dental friend.

-I don't know anything. -Come clean.

You're a dentist, aren't you?

No, I'm a tobacconist.

A tobacconist who just happens to be buying a book on teeth?

-Yes. -Ha-ha-ha.

Drop that gun, Stapleton.

Lafarge.

-There is something going on. -No, there isn't.

Okay, Stapleton, this is it.

Where's Mahoney hidden the fillings?

Uh, what fillings?

You know which fillings, Stapleton.

Upper right, two and four, lower right, three, lower left, one.

Come on. Remember what happened to Nigel?

What happened to Nigel?

Orthodontic Jake gave him a gelignite mouthwash.

-I knew there was something going on. -There isn't.

Come on, Stapleton. The fillings.

They're at 22 Wimpole Street.

Don't play games with me.

Ow!

All right, 22A Wimpole Street.

-That's better. -But you'll need an appointment.

Okay. Brian, make with the appointment, baby. No gas.

Eh. Not so fast, Lafarge.

LAFARGE: Van der Berg.

Yes. Now, drop the roscoe.

-There is something going on. -No, there isn't.

Nurse, get the guns.

-Who's that? -That's Van der Berg.

He's on our side.

All right, get up against the wall, Lafarge.

-And you too, Stapleton. -Me?

-Yes. -You dirty, double-crossing rat.

What's happened?

-He's two-timed me. -Bad luck.

All right. Where are the fillings?

[PANTING]

Answer me. Where are they?

This is quite exciting.

Not so fast.

ALL: Brian!

Ooh! What's that?

ALL: It's a bazooka.

All right, get against the wall, Van der Berg, and you, nurse.

And the first one to try anything moves to a practice six-feet underground.

This is an anti-tank gun, and it's loaded.

And you've just got five seconds to tell me:

What ever happened to Baby Jane?

ALL: What?

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. My mind's wandering.

I've had a terrible day, I really have.

[CLEARS THROAT] You've got five seconds to tell me...

I've forgotten. I've forgotten.

The five seconds haven't started yet, have they?

Only we don't know the question.

Was it about Vogler?

No, no, no. You've got five seconds to tell me...

-About Nigel? -No, no.

-Bronski? -No, no.

-The fillings! -Oh, yes, the fillings, of course.

-How stupid of me. Ha-ha-ha. -[CHATTERING]

Right, you've got five seconds.

Where are the fillings? Five... four... three... two, one... zero.

Zero.

Oh, I've forgotten to fire it.

[LAUGHS] Sorry.

Silly day. All right.

Five, four, three, two, one--

Drop the bazooka, Brian.

ALL: The Big Cheese.

I'm glad you could all come to my little party.

And Flopsy's glad too, aren't you, Flopsy?

Aren't you, Flopsy?

That will teach you to play hard-to-get.

There, poor Flopsy's dead, and never called me mother.

And soon you will all be dead.

-[ALL HISSING] -Dead, dead, dead.

And because I'm so evil, you will all die the slow way: under the drill.

Uh, it's 1:00.

So it is. Lunch break, everyone. Back here at two.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Hello.

Give me the British Dental Association and fast.

You see, I knew there was something going on.

Of course, the Big Cheese made two mistakes.

First of all, he didn't recognize me, Lemming.

Arthur Lemming, special investigator,

British Dental Association.

And second-- Spit.

--by the time I got back from lunch,

I had every dental surgeon in SW1 waiting for them all in the broom cupboard.

Funny, isn't it, how naughty dentists always make that one fatal mistake?

Bye, for now. Keep your teeth clean.

♪ Lemming, Lemming Lemming of the BDA ♪

♪ Lemming, Lemming ♪

♪ Lemming of the BD Lemming of the BD, BD, BDA ♪

ANNOUNCER:

Right. No, I warned you.

No, I warned you about the slogan.

Right. That's the end.

Stop the program. Stop it.

[WHISTLES]

[GROANING]

[GRUNTS]

[GRUNTS]

[♪]

COLONEL: Ah. Got you, me lad. Still acting, eh?

Over you go.

[YELPS]