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The Naked Ant

[PINBALL MACHINE CLATTERING AND RINGING]

It's...

ANNOUNCER: Monty Python's Flying Circus.

[♪]

MAN: Oh, no, you don't.

[BEAR GROWLING]

[MUFFLED CRIES]

[GRUNTING]

Hey, did you see that?

Hmm?

Did you see somebody go past the window?

What?

Somebody just went past the window.

That way.

Oh.

Oh.

Another one.

Hmm?

Another one just went past, downwards.

What?

Two people have just fallen out of that window to their almost certain death.

Fine, fine. Fine.

Look, two people--

Three people have just fallen past that window.

Must be a board meeting.

Oh, yeah.

Hey, that was Wilkins of Finance.

Ahem. No, that was Robertson.

Wilkins.

Robertson.

-Wilkins. -Robertson.

-That was Wilkins. -That was Wilkins.

He was a good, uh, good golfer, Wilkins.

Very good golfer. Very good golfer.

Rotten at finance.

It'll be Parkinson next.

Bet you it won't.

How much?

What?

How much do you bet it won't?

Fiver?

-All right. -Done.

-You're on. -Fine.

-Come on, Parky. -Don't do it, Parky.

-Come on, Parky. Come on, jump. -Come on, now. Be sensible.

MAN: Dear sir, I'm writing to complain about that sketch

about people falling out of a high building.

I have worked all my life in such a building and have never once--

[SCREAMING]

Parkinson!

Johnson!

[ALL SCREAM]

MAN 1: My God, this is terrible.

Will somebody please stop it?

MAN 2: I know, sir. Let's try it this way:

[ALL SCREAM]

[GONG RESONATES]

Alakazam, alacadabra, alakazam.

Alacadabra, alakazam, alacadabra.

Alakazam, alacadabra.

[MAN HUMMING]

-[WOMAN GIGGLES] -Hmm?

WOMAN: Hello. [LAUGHING]

[♪]

Good evening. Tonight, Spectrum looks at one of the major problems in the world today.

The whole vexed question of what is going on.

Is there still time to confront it, let alone solve it, or is it too late?

What are the figures? What are the facts?

What do people mean when they talk about things?

Alexander Hardacre of the Economic Affairs Bureau.

In this graph, this column represents

23 percent of the population, this column represents 28 percent of the population and this column represents 43 percent of the population.

Telling figures, indeed.

But what do they mean to you? What do they mean to me?

What do they mean to the average man in the street?

With me now is Professor Tiddles of Leeds University.

Professor, you've spent many years researching into things.

-What do you think? -I think it's too early to tell.

Too early to tell, too early to say.

It means the same. The word "say" is the same as "tell."

They're not spelt the same, but they mean the same.

It's an identical situation we have with "ship" and "boat," but not "bow" and "bough." They're spelt differently, mean different things, but sound the same.

But the real question remains what is the solution to this?

What can we do? What am I saying? Why am I sitting in this chair?

Why am I on this program? What am I going to say next?

Here to answer this is a professional cricketer.

I can say nothing at this point.

-You are wrong. Professor? -Hello.

Hello. So where do we stand? Where do we stand? Where do we sit?

Where do we come? Where do we go? What do we do, what do we say?

What do we eat? What do we drink? What do we think? What do we do?

[CRASHING]

Sorry.

[GROWLING]

[GRUNTING]

[SEAGULLS CAWING]

[DOORBELL RINGS]

Hello. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, isn't it?

-That's right. Yes. -Well, come on in.

Excuse me not shaking hands, but I've just been putting a bit of lard on the cat's boil.

Very nice.

Well, you must be tired.

It's a long drive from Coventry, isn't it?

Yes, well, we usually reckon on five and a half hours and it took us six hours and 53 minutes with a 25-minute wait in Frampton Cotterell to stretch our legs.

We had to wait half an hour to go on the M5 near Droitwich.

-Really? -Then there was a three-mile queue just before Bridgewater, on the A38.

I mean, normally, we come around on the B3339 just before Bridgewater, you see.

-Really? -But we decided to risk it because they're always saying they're going to widen it.

-Are they? -Just by the intersection where the A372 joins up.

There's room to widen it there. There's only the grass verges.

They could get another six-feet, knock down that hospital.

Then we took the coast road through Williton and got all the Taunton traffic on the A358 from Crowcombe and Stogumber.

Well, you must be dying for a cup of tea.

Well, wouldn't say no.

-Well, good-- -Not if it's warm and wet.

[LAUGHS]

Well, come on in the lounge.

I'm just about to serve afternoon tea.

Very nice.

Come on in, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.

Oh, this is Mr. and Mrs. Phillips.

-Good afternoon. -Pleased to meet you.

It's their third year with us.

We can't keep you away, can we?

[CHUCKLES]

And over here is Mr. Hilter.

[GERMAN ACCENT] Ah. Ah. Ah, good time.

Uh, good afternoon.

Planning a little excursion are we, Mr. Hilter?

Uh, ja, ja, we make a little, uh...

[SPEAKING IN GERMAN]

-Hike. -Hiking.

We make a little hike for--for Bideford.

Oh, well, you'll be wanting the A39, then. You see--

No, no, no. You've got the wrong map there.

This is Stalingrad.

You want the Ilfracombe and Barnstaple section.

Ah. Ha, ha, ha.

Hein-- Uh, Reginald, ha, ha, ha.

You have the wrong map here you silly old, leg-before-wicket English person.

I'm sorry.

Sorry, mein Fuhrer. I did not-- Oh!

Mein-- Mein Dickie, old chum.

Lucky Mr. Johnson pointed that out, eh?

You wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you?

[BOTH CHUCKLE]

I said, you wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you?

Not much fun in Stalingrad, no.

Oh, you know, I'm sorry. I didn't introduce you.

This is Ron. Ron Vibbentrop.

Oh, not von Ribbentrop, eh?

-[LAUGHS] -Nein! Nein! Nein! Nein!

Oh, ha, ha. No, he different, other chap. No.

I in Somerset am being born.

Von Ribbentrop is born in Dusseldorf, West 8.

So they say. Ha, ha, ha.

And this is the quiet one: Mr. Bimmler.

Heinrich Bimmler.

How do you do there, squire? Also, I am not Minehead lad but I in Lincolnshire house was given birth to.

But stay in Lincolnshire house all during war, owing to nasty running sores.

Uh, I was unable to go in the streets, play football, or go to Nuremberg. Uh-- Ha!

I am a retired window cleaner and pacifist without doing war crimes.

Argh!

I am very glad England win World Cup--

Bobby Charlton, Martin Peters.

And eating lots of chips and fish and toad in the holes and Dundee cake on Piccadilly line.

Don't you know, old chap?

And was head of Gestapo for 10 years.

No! Five years.

Ow! No, no. Nein. Ha!

Was not head of Gestapo at all. [LAUGHS]

-I make joke. -[ALL LAUGH]

-Oh, Mr. Bimmler, you do have us on. -[PHONE RINGS]

Oh, excuse me. I must just go and answer that.

Uh, how long are you down here for, Mr. Hilter?

Just the fortnight?

Why do you ask that? Are you a spy or something?

Get over there against the wall, Britischer pig!

You're going to die!

Take it easy, Dickie, old chum.

I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson. He's a bit on edge.

He hasn't slept since 1945.

Shut your cake hole, you Nazi.

-[LAUGHING] -Cool it, Fuhrer cat.

Oh, the fun we have.

Haven't I seen him on the television?

Nicht! Nein! Nein! Oh, uh, no. No.

-Television doctor? -No, no.

Telephone, Mr. Hilter.

It's that nice Mr. McGohring from the Bell and Compasses.

-Ah! -He says he's found a place where you can hire bombers by the hour.

If he opens his big mouth again, it's lampshade time.

VON RIBBENTROP: Shut up!

Ha, ha, ha. Hire bombers by the hour.

What a laugh he is, that Scottish person.

[ALL CHUCKLE]

Good old Norman.

He's on the telephone the whole time nowadays.

In business, is he?

Soon, baby.

Of course, it's his big day, Thursday.

They've been planning it for months.

What happens then?

Oh, it's the North Minehead by-election.

Mr. Hilter's standing as a National Bocialist candidate.

He's got wonderful plans for Minehead.

-Like what? -Well, for a start, he wants to annex Poland.

Oh. North Minehead's Conservative, isn't it?

Well, they get a lot of people at their rallies.

-Rallies? -Well, they're Bocialist meetings down at the Axis Café on Rosedale Road.

[HILTER SPEAKING IN GERMAN THROUGH MEGAPHONE]

["DAS LIED DER DEUTSCHEN" PLAYING]

[SPEAKING GERMAN GIBBERISH]

I am not a racialist... but-- und this is a big "but."

We in the National Bocialist Party believe:

[SPEAKING GERMAN GIBBERISH]

[LIGHT APPLAUSE]

[SPEAKING GERMAN GIBBERISH]

...Minehead.

Mr. Hitler--

Hilter. He says that, historically,

Taunton is a part of Minehead already.

He's right. Do you know that?

[SPEAKING GERMAN GIBBERISH]

...in Somerset.

[CHEERING AND APPLAUSE]

[CHEERING AND APPLAUSE]

CROWD [CHANTING]: Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!

[CHANTING] Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!

INTERVIEWER: What do you think of Mr. Hilter's policies?

Well, I don't like the sound of these here "boncentration bamps."

Well, I gave him my baby to kiss and he bit it on the head.

Well, I think he'd do a lot of good for the stock exchange.

No, no.

Oh, yes, Britischer pals. He is wunderbar-- ful. Uh...

I think he's right about the coons, but then, I'm a bit mental.

I think he's got beautiful legs.

Well, speaking as Conservative candidate,

I just drone on and on and on and on, never letting anyone else get a word in edgeways until I start foaming at the mouth and falling over backwards. Oh...

Is he foaming at the mouth to fall over backwards, or falling over backwards to foam at the mouth?

Tonight, Spectrum examines frothing and falling coughing and calling, screaming and bawling, galling and mauling, trawling and squalling and "zalling." "Zalling." Is there a word, "zalling"?

If there is, what's it mean? If not, what's it mean?

Perhaps both. Maybe neither.

What do I mean by the word, "mean"? By the word, "word"?

What do I mean by "do," and what do I do by "mean"?

What do I mean by wasting your time like this? Good night.

Good night.

Uh, good evening. I wish to report a burglary.

-[CLEARS THROAT] -Speak up, please, sir.

I wish to report a burglary.

I can't hear you, sir.

I wish to report a burglary!

That's a little bit too loud, sir.

Could you say it just a little less loud than that?

I wish to report a burglary.

No, I'm still not getting anything.

Uh, could you try it in a higher register?

-What do you mean, a higher register? -What?

[IN SHRILL VOICE] I wish to report a burglary.

Oh, that's it. Hang on a moment.

Now, a little bit louder.

-I wish to report a burglary! -Report a what?

-Burglary! -That's it.

That's the exact frequency. Now, keep it there.

-[SHRILLY] Hello, sarge! -[DEEPLY] Good evening, Charlie.

I was sitting at home with a friend of mine from Camber Sands when we heard a noise in the bedroom!

We went to investigate and found £5000 stolen!

Well, I'm afraid I'm going off duty now, sir.

Uh, could you tell Sergeant Foster?

I was sitting at home with a friend of mine from Camber Sands--

[NORMAL VOICE] Excuse me, sir, but, uh, why the funny voice?

[NORMAL VOICE] Oh, uh, I'm terribly sorry.

I just got used to talking like that to the other sergeant.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I can't hear you.

Could you speak in a lower register?

Uh... Oh.

[IN DEEP VOICE] Ahem, I wish to report the loss of £5000.

Five thousand pounds? That's serious!

You'd better speak to the detective inspector.

[IN DEEP VOICE] What seems to be the trouble, sergeant?

[RAPIDLY] This man has come in to report he was home, he heard a noise, went to investigate, and found that 5000 in savings was stolen.

I see. [NORMAL VOICE] Where do you live, sir?

[NORMAL VOICE] 121 Halliwell Road, Dulwich, SE21.

[RAPIDLY] 121 Halliwell Road, Dulwich, SE21.

[SHRILLY] Another Halliwell Road job, eh?

[RAPIDLY] I thought that bloke was put inside last year.

[SHRILLY] Yes, in Parkhurst.

[IN DEEP VOICE] It must have been somebody else.

[DEEPLY] Thank you.

[NORMALLY] We'll get things moving right away.

[SHRILLY] You take over.

[NORMALLY] Alert squad cars.

[SING-SONG] Hello, darling. I'm afraid I'll be late home.

♪ Calling all squad cars ♪

♪ In the area ♪

[IN DEEP, GRUFF VOICE] I think that's in very bad taste.

[MEOWS]

[BARKS]

[BLEATS]

Some people do talk in the most extraordinary way.

ANNOUNCER: Good afternoon, and welcome to Hurlingham Park.

You join us just as the competitors

are running out onto the field

on this lovely winter's afternoon here

with the going firm underfoot and very little sign of rain.

Well, it certainly looks as though

we're in for a splendid afternoon's sport in this,

the 127th Upper-class Twit of the Year Show.

Now, the competitors will be off any moment

so let me just identify them for you.

Vivian Smith-Smythe-Smith has O-level in chemo-hygiene.

Simon-Zinc-Trumpet-Harris

married to a very attractive table lamp.

Nigel Incubator-Jones' best friend is a tree,

and in his spare time, he's a stockbroker.

Gervaise Brook-Hampster is in the Guards

and his father uses him as a wastepaper basket.

And finally, Oliver St. John-Mollusc Harrow and the Guards,

thought by many to be this year's outstanding twit.

Now they're moving up to the starting line.

There's a jolly good crowd here today.

They're under starter's orders.

And...

they're off!

Oh, no, they're not.

No, they didn't realize they were supposed to start.

Never mind, we'll soon sort that out.

The judge is explaining it to them now.

I think Nigel and Gervaise have got the idea.

All set to go.

Oh, and they're off!

And it's a fast start this year.

Oliver St. John-Mollusc running a bit wide there.

And now they're coming into their first test: the straight line.

They've got to walk along this straight line without falling over--

And Oliver's over at the back there.

Simon's coming through quite fast on the outside.

Simon and Nigel, both of them coming through very fast.

There's Nigel, number three.

And there's Gervaise coming through just out of shot.

And now, the positions.

Simon and Vivian at the front coming into the matchbox jump.

Three layers of matchboxes to clear.

And Simon's over. And Vivian's over, beautifully.

Oh, the jump of a lifetime!

If only his father could understand.

Here's Nigel. He's confused-- No. And Gervaise is over.

No, he's, uh-- Nigel is over. He's only just hit the top.

And now it's Gervaise. Gervaise is going to jump it.

No, he's jumped the wrong way. Well done, Gervaise.

There he goes. Nigel's over, beautifully.

Now it's only Oliver. Oliver and Gervaise--

Oh, bad luck.

And now it's Kicking the Beggar.

Simon's there and he's putting the boot in,

and not terribly hard but he's down!

And he goes down, so Simon can move on.

Now, Vivian's there.

Vivian is there and waiting for a chance.

Here he comes. Oh! The old pile driver.

A real pile driver.

And now, uh, Simon's our number one,

Vivian two, Nigel three, Gervaise in four,

and Oliver bringing up the rear.

Uh, there's Oliver. There's Oliver now. He's at the back.

I think he's having a little trouble

with his old brain injury.

He's gonna have a go. No, no. Bad luck.

But he's up. He doesn't know when he's beaten, this boy.

He doesn't know when he's winning, either.

He doesn't have any sort of sensory apparatus there.

Outstanding. Outstanding-- Oh, my.

Oh, there's Gervaise, putting the boot in there.

He's got the beggar down. The steward's giving him advice.

Yes, he can move on, now.

He can move on to the Hunt Photograph.

There's Ger-- I think he's real-- Yes, he's off.

Gervaise is there and Oliver's still at the back

having trouble with the matchboxes.

Now, here's the Hunt Ball Photograph

and the first here is Simon.

He's going to enjoy a joke with Lady Arabella Plunkett.

She hopes to go into films.

And Vivian's through there, and Nigel's there

enjoying a joke with Lady Sarah Pencil Farthing Vivian

Steamroller Adams Thigh Biscuit

Aftershave Gore Stringbottom Smith.

And there's Simon, now, in the sports car.

And he's reversing into the old woman.

He caught her beautifully.

Now he's going to accelerate forward, there,

to wake up the neighbor. There's Vivian, I think.

No, Vivian's lost his keys. No, there's Vivian.

He's got the woman, slowly but surely, right in the midriff.

And here he is. Here he is to wake up the neighbor now.

Simon, right in the lead, comfortably in the lead,

but he can't get this neighbor woken up.

He's slamming away there as best he can.

He's getting absolutely no reaction at all.

No-- There! There, he's woken him up. And Simon's through.

Here comes Vivian. Vivian to slam the door.

There we are, back at the ball. I think that's Gervaise.

That's Gervaise going through, there.

And here-- Here comes Oliver, brave Oliver.

Is he gonna make it to the table? No, I don't think he is.

Yes, he is. Oh!

[CHATTERING]

And the crowd are rising to him, there.

And there I can see-- Who is that there?

Yes, that's Nigel. Nigel has woken the neighbor.

My God, this is exciting. Nigel's very excited.

He's going through. Here comes Gervaise.

Gervaise-- Oh, no, this is... Out in the front there is Simon

who's supposed to insult the waiter and he's forgotten.

And Oliver has run himself over!

What a great twit.

And there-- Now, here comes Vivian.

Vivian to insult the waiter, and he is heaping abuse on him.

He's just humiliating him, there and he's gone into the lead.

Simon's not with him. No, Vivian's hit the bar.

Now, they've got to get under this bar.

This is extremely difficult as it requires

absolutely expert coordination between mind and body.

Now, they need to get there. Here we go again.

Simon's fallen backwards. Here's Nigel, and he's tripped.

Nigel has tripped and he's under.

Simon fails again.

Uh, now here is Gervaise coming through--

And Simon is through by accident.

There's Gervaise, he's the last one, but here we are.

Here's Nigel right at the head of the field.

He's gotta shoot the rabbit.

These rabbits have been tied to the ground,

but they tend to be frisky, and this is only a one-day event.

And they're blazing away there.

They're not getting the results they might.

Gervaise is in there, trying to bash it to death

with the butt of his rifle.

And I think, Nigel's in there with his bare hands,

but they're not getting results. It is a little misty,

and they must be shooting from a-- A range of at least one-foot.

But there's a couple of hits there, I think.

Yes, they've had a couple of hits,

and the whole field is up again

and here they are.

They're coming up to the debs.

Gervaise first, Vivian second, Simon third.

And now they've got to take the bras off from the front.

This is really difficult. This is the most difficult part of the entire competition.

My God, they're having a bit of trouble in there, I think.

They're really trying now and the crowd is getting excited

and I think some of the twits are getting rather excited too.

But anyway, Vivian is there. Vivian is coming through.

Simon's in second place.

And-- Oh, there's Oliver!

He's dead, but he's not necessarily out of it.

There goes Nigel. No, he's lost something. No, he hasn't.

And Gervaise running through to this final obstacle.

Now, all they have to do here to win the title

is to shoot themselves.

Simon has a go. Bad luck, he misses. Nigel misses.

Now there's Gervaise, and Gervaise has shot himself.

Gervaise is Upper-class Twit of the Year.

There's Nigel. He's shot Simon by mistake.

Simon is second, and there's Nigel.

Nigel has shot himself.

Nigel is third in this fine

and most exciting Upper-class Twit of the Year I have ever seen.

Wait! Nigel's clubbed himself into fourth place.

And so the final result,

Upper-class Twit of the Year:

Gervaise Brook-Hampster of Kensington and Weybridge.

Runner up: Vivian Smith- Smythe-Smith of Kensington.

And third: Nigel Incubator-Jones of Henley.

Well, there will certainly be some car-door slamming

in the streets of Kensington tonight.

WOMAN: Dear sir,

how splendid it is to see the flower of British manhood

wiping itself out with such pluck and tenacity.

Britain need have no fear with leaders of this caliber.

If only a few of the so-called working classes

would destroy themselves so sportingly.

Yours et cetera,

Brigadier Mainwaring Smith Smith Smith, et cetera.

Deceased, et cetera.

P.S., et cetera, come on other ranks. Show your stuff.

Yes, sir. I'll do me best, sir.

[CLEARS THROAT]

MAN: No, not good enough.

[COUGHS]

MAN: No, still not good enough.

[HACKS]

MAN: Yeah, that's better.

CHOIR: ♪ Hallelujah Hallelujah ♪

Eww! Ugh! Oh!

Okay, all clear.

[♪]

Now, I understand that you want to marry my daughter.

That's right. Yeah, yeah.

Yes. You realize, of course, that Rosamund is still rather young?

Daddy, you make me feel like a child.

Oh, yeah, you know.

Get 'em when they're young, eh? Eh?

Know what I mean?

Well, I'm-- I'm sure you know what I mean, Mr...?

-Mr...? -Uh, Shabby. Ken Shabby.

Mr. Shabby, I just want to make sure that you'll be able to look after my daughter.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

I'll be able to look after her all right, sport, eh?

Know what I mean, eh?

[LAUGHS, COUGHS]

And, uh, what job do you do?

Oh, I clean out public lavatories.

Is there a promotion involved?

Oh, yeah, yeah!

[COUGHING AND HACKING]

After five years, they give me a brush.

-Yes. -[COUGHS]

Oh, I'm sorry, squire. I've gobbed on your carpet.

And, uh, where--where are you going to live?

Well, 'round at my gran's.

She trains polecats, uh--

[COUGHS]

But most of them have suffocated so there should be a bit of spare room in the attic, eh?

-Know what I mean? -Yes, I see. I see.

And when do you expect to get married?

Oh, right away, sport. Right away, you know.

I haven't had it for weeks.

[HACKING]

Yes.

Well, look, I'll-- I'll phone the bishop and see if we can get the abbey.

Oh, diarrhea. Oh.

[COUGHING]

NARRATOR: The story so far:

Rosamund's father has become ensnared

by Mr. Shabby's extraordinary personal magnetism.

Bob and Janet have eaten Mr. Farquar's goldfish

during an Oxfam lunch.

And Mrs. Elsmore's marriage

is threatened by Doug's insistence

that he is on a different level of consciousness.

Louise's hernia has been confirmed,

and Jim, Bob's brother, has run over the editor of the Lancet

on his way to see Jenny, a freelance pagoda designer.

On the other side of the continent,

Napoleon still broods over the smoldering remains

of a city he had crossed half the Earth to conquer.

Whilst Mary, Roger's half-sister,

settles down to watch television.

ANNOUNCER: There now follows a party political broadcast

on behalf of the Wood Party.

Good evening.

We in the Wood Party feel very strongly that the present weak drafting of the local government bill leaves a lot to be desired.

And we intend to fight.

[SCREAMING]

Hello?

Hello.

Uh, I-- I'm afraid the minister's fallen through the Earth's crust.

Uh, excuse me a moment.

Hello?

WARBECK: Hello.

Are you all right, minister?

WARBECK: I appear to have landed on this kind of ledge thing.

Shall we lower down one of the BBC ropes?

If you would be so kind.

What length of BBC rope will we be likely to need?

I should use the longest BBC rope.

That would be a good idea, I would imagine.

Okey-doke, chief.

Uh, Tex, get the longest BBC rope and bring it here, pronto.

In the meantime, since I am on all channels, perhaps I'd better carry on with this broadcast by shouting about our housing plans from down here, as best I can.

Could someone throw me down a script?

The script would appear to have landed on a different ledge somewhat out of my grasp, don't you know.

Well, perhaps when the rope reaches you, minister, you could kind of swing over to the ledge and grab it.

Good idea.

Well, I'm going to carry on if I can read the script.

Good evening. We in the Wood Party... feel very strongly about... the present weak drafting of the local government bill, and-- No. No, it's no good. It's not working.

I think I'll have to try and make a grab for it.

I think it's in back-- Ah, there we are.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Good evening. We in the Wood Party feel very strongly about the present--

Aah! Aah!

Oh, dear.

-Hello. -STAGEHAND: Hello.

Look, look, I-- I must look a bit of a chump, hanging upside down like this.

STAGEHAND: Uh, don't worry, minister.

I think, um, if we turn the picture upside down we should help the minister, Hen.

Oh, good. Look, uh, I'm sorry about this.

Uh, there seem to be a few gremlins about.

Um, I think I'd better start from the beginning. Um...

Good evening. We-- We in the Wood Party feel very strongly about--

Oh, bloody heck. Oh!

Um, oh, dear.

[CHUCKLES]

Uh, terribly sorry about this.

Um, about saying bloody heck on all channels, but, um--

STAGEHAND: There's another script on the way down, minister.

Oh. Oh, good. Good.

Well, uh...

[CHUCKLES]

...um, good evening.

Um, well, um...

How are you? Uh...

Oh, look, I don't want you to think of the Wood Party as a load of old men that like hanging around on ropes, only, uh... Oh. Oh.

Uh, thank you.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Good evening.

We in the Wood Party feel very strongly about the present weak drafting--

[SCREAMS]

Look, I think we'd better call it a day.

Now, is this the furthest distance that a minister has fallen, Robert?

Uh, surprisingly not.

The Canadian minister for External Affairs fell nearly seven miles during a Liberal conference in Ottawa about six years ago.

And then, quite recently, the Kenyan minister for Agric and Fish fell nearly 12 miles during a Nairobi debate in Parliament, although this hasn't been ratified yet.

How far did the Filipino cabinet fall last March?

Uh, well, they fell nearly 39 miles, but it's not nearly so remarkable, as that was due to their combined weight, of course, Robert.

Yes. Well, thank you, Robert.

Well, now, what are your reactions to all this, Robert?

Well, Robert, the main thing is that it's terribly exciting.

You see, the minister is quite clearly lodged between rocks that we know terribly little of.

The main thing is we're getting color pictures of extraordinarily high quality. Extraordinarily high quality.

But-- But the important thing-- The really exciting thing is he'll get samples of the Earth's core, which will give us a tremendous, really tremendous clue as to the origins of the Earth and what God himself is made of.

[GRUNTING]

Oh. Oh. Oh, I needed that.

Oh, thank you, Robert. That seems to be about all we have time for tonight.

Unless anyone has anything else to say.

Has anyone anything else to say?

-No. -Nope. Nope.

No.

♪ No ♪

-No. -No.

-No. -No!

-No. -No.

Bloody fairy.

-No. -No!

Uh...

-No. -No.

-No. -Nein-- No.

No.

No, no, no...

What do we mean by no? What do we mean by yes? What do we mean by, "No, no"?

Tonight, Spectrum looks at what is no. What is not--

[PINBALL MACHINE CLATTERING AND RINGING]

[♪]