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The Buzz Aldrin Show

[♪♪]

[HUMMING]

[DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES]

[SNORING]

[CLOCK TICKING]

[ALARM RINGS]

[♪♪]

And now for something completely different.

It's...

[♪♪]

ANNOUNCER: Monty Python's Flying Circus.

[SPLAT]

[IN UNISON] Hello and welcome to the show.

Without more ado, the first item is a sketch about architects called "The Architect Sketch."

"The Architect Sketch."

"The Architect Sketch."

"The Architect Sketch."

Up there.

Up there.

Up there.

[ALL CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

Gentlemen, we have two basic suggestions for the design of this--

[THE GUMBIES CHATTERING OUTSIDE]

Gentlemen, we have two basic suggestions for the design of this--

[THE GUMBIES CONTINUE CHATTERING]

[YELLING] Shut up!

Gentlemen, we have two basic suggestions--

GUMBIES: Sorry. Sorry.

Sorry. Sorry.

Gentlemen, we have two basic suggestions for the design of this architectural block, the residential block.

And I thought it best that the architects themselves came in to explain the advantages of both designs.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

That must be the first architect now.

Oh, yes, it's Mr. Wiggin of Ironside and Malone.

Good morning, gentlemen. Uh, this is a 12-story block, combining classical neo-Georgian features with all the advantages of modern design.

Uh, the tenants arrive in the entrance hall here, are carried along the corridor on a conveyor belt in extreme comfort and past murals depicting Mediterranean scenes towards the rotating knives.

The last 20 feet of the corridor are heavily soundproof.

The blood pours down these chutes and the mangled flesh slurps into these large--

-Excuse me. -Hmm?

Uh, did you say "knives"?

Rotating knives, yes.

Are you, uh, proposing to slaughter our tenants?

Does that not fit in with your plans?

No, no.

We-- We wanted a simple block of flats.

Ah, I see. I hadn't, uh, correctly divined your attitude towards your tenants.

You see, I mainly design slaughterhouses. Yes, pity.

Mind you, this is a real beaut.

I mean, no blood caked on the walls and flesh flying out of the windows, inconveniencing passersby with this one.

I mean, my life has been building up to this.

Yes, and well done, heh.

But we did want a block of flats.

May I ask you to reconsider? You won't regret it. Think of the tourist trade.

No, no, it's-- it's just that we wanted a block of flats and not an abattoir.

Yes, well, of course that's just the sort of blinkered, philistine pig-ignorance

I've come to expect from you non-creative garbage.

You sit there on your loathsome, spotty behinds, squeezing blackheads, not caring a tinker's cuss about the struggling artist.

You excrement!

You lousy, hypocritical, whining toadies!

With your lousy color-TV sets, and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs, and your bleeding Masonic handshakes!

You wouldn't let me join, would you, you blackballing bastards?

Well, I wouldn't become a Freemason now, if you went down on your lousy, stinking, purulent knees and begged me!

Well, we're sorry you feel like that, but we, uh, did want a block of flats.

Nice though the abattoir is, heh-heh.

Oh, pfft! the abattoir. That's not important.

But if one of you could put in a word for me,

I'd love to be a Freemason.

Freemasonry opens doors. I mean, I was--

I was a bit on edge just now, but-- but if I was a Mason,

I'd just sit at the back and not get in anyone's way.

Thank you.

I've got a secondhand apron.

Thank you.

-I nearly got in at Hendon. -Thank you.

I'm sorry about that, gentlemen. The second architect is

Mr. Leavey of Wymis and Dibble.

Good morning, gentlemen. Uh,

This is a scale model of the block.

Uh, there are 28 stories with 280 modern apartments.

There are three main lifts and two service lifts.

Access would be from Dibbingley Road.

Uh, the structure is built on a central-pillar system uh, with cantilevered floors in pre-stressed steel and concrete.

Uh, the dividing walls on each floor section are fixed with recessed magnalium flanged groo--

By avoiding wood and timber derivatives and all other inflammables, uh, we have almost totally removed the risk of...

Quite frankly, I think the central-pillar system may need strengthening a bit.

-Isn't that going to put the cost up? -Uh, it might.

Well, I don't know whether I'd worry about strengthening that much.

After all, they're not meant to be luxury flats.

No, I quite agree. I mean, provided the tenants are of light build and relatively sedentary, and, uh, given a spot of good weather,

-I think we're onto a winner here. -Yes.

Oh, thank you.

Quite agree. Quite agree.

Thank you very much.

-Thank you. -It opens doors, I'm telling you.

MAN: Let's have a look at that handshake again

in slow motion.

What other ways are there of recognizing a Mason?

How are you?

Having once identified a Mason,

immediate steps must be taken

to isolate him from the general public.

Having accomplished that, it is now possible to cure him

of these unfortunate Masonic tendencies

through the use of behavioral psychotherapy.

In this treatment,

the patient is rewarded for the correct response

and punished for the wrong one.

Let us begin.

[BUZZES]

Would you like to give up being a Mason?

Think carefully.

Think.

Think.

-No. -MAN [YELLING]: No?

That's wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!

No, no! Bad, bad dog! Bad!

ANNOUNCER: The BBC would like to apologize

for the following announcement.

[THE GUMBIES MUMBLING INDISTINCTLY]

[FOOTSTEPS]

[IN UNISON] Ooh.

And the next item is a sketch about insurance called "Insurance Sketch."

"Insurance Sketch."

"Insurance Sketch."

What do you want?

Well, I've come-- I've come about your special, fully comprehensive, motor insurance policy offer.

What was that?

Fully comprehensive motor insurance for one and eight pence.

Oh, oh, yeah. Yeah.

Well, unfortunately, uh, guv, that offer's no longer valid.

You see, uh, it turned out not to be economically viable.

Uh, so we now have a totally new offer.

-What's that? -A nude lady.

-Nude lady? -Yes.

You get a nude lady with comprehensive motor insurance.

If you just want third party, she has to keep her bra on, and if it's just theft--

No, no, I-I don't really want that.

Um. Mr.-- Mr., um?

-Devious. -Mr. Devious.

I just want to know what it would cost me to have comprehensive insurance on a 1970 Aston Martin.

-Aston Martin? -Yeah.

-Uh, five hundred quid. -Five hundred quid?

-Forty quid. -Forty quid?

Forty quid and a nude lady.

I'm not interested in a nude lady.

-Dirty books. -No, no, no.

I'm not interested in that.

I just want to know what it would cost me to have a fully comprehensive insurance on a 1970 Aston Martin.

Can you please quote me your price?

-Knock, knock. -Who's there?

-The reverend. -The reverend who?

-The Reverend Morrison. -DEVIOUS: Oh, come in.

Now then, vic, what's the trouble?

Well, it's about this letter you sent me.

Um, excuse me, do I have any more lines?

I don't know, mush.

I'll have a look in your script.

Where are we? Show eight.

Are you "Man"?

-Yeah. Man. -Man.

No. No, you're finished.

-Well, I'll be off, then. -Right.

[CLEARS THROAT]

"The vicar sits."

It's about this letter you sent me regarding my insurance claim.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, well, you see, it's just that we're not as yet, uh, totally satisfied with the grounds of your claim.

But it says something about filling my mouth in with cement.

Oh, well, that's just Insurance jargon, you know.

But my car was hit by a lorry while standing in the garage, and you refused to pay my claim.

Well, Reverend Morrison, in your policy...

In your policy...

Here we are.

It states, sir, quite clearly, that no claim you make will be paid.

-Oh, dear. -You see, uh, you unfortunately plumped for our never-pay policy which, uh, you know, if you never claim, is very worthwhile.

But, uh, you had to claim, and, well, there it is.

-Oh, dear, oh, dear. -Still, never mind, could be worse. How's the nude lady?

Oh, she's fine.

[SOBBING]

Look, rev, I hate to see a man cry.

So shove off, out the office. There's a good chap.

Okay, Devious. Don't move.

The Bishop!

[♪♪]

[CHOIR SINGING]

[ENGINE RUMBLING]

[TIRES SCREECHING]

I take as my text for today--

The text, vic! Don't say the text!

Leviticus 3:14.

[EXPLOSION]

[SCREAMING]

We was too late.

The Reverend Grundy bit the ceiling.

[BUZZING]

Hello. What? We'll be right over.

[BELL TOLLING]

[ORGAN PLAYING]

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

And it is for this reason, that the Christian Church lays upon you

-[CLOCK TICKING] -the godparents and the parents the obligation of seeing this child is brought up in the Christian faith.

Therefore, I name this child--

Don't say the kid's name, vic!

Francesco Luigi--

[EXPLOSION]

We was too late.

The Reverend Neuk saw the light.

[♪♪]

The ring, vic! Don't touch the ring!

[BELL TOLLING]

[CHOKING]

Hey, vic!

[SNAPS FINGERS]

Dearly, dear, dearly departed.

Dust to dust, ashes--

[CREAKING]

[EXPLOSION]

[TIRES SCREECHING]

[ENGINE RUMBLING]

[♪♪]

MAN: Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Help! Ah! Help!

Help! Help!

Come on.

[ALL GRUNTING]

Okay, Devious, don't move.

The Bishop!

[♪♪]

This is where we came in.

Yeah.

Oh, it's nice to be home.

-B-Builders haven't been, then? -No.

These two old people are typical of the housing problem facing Britain's aged.

Here. Don't you start doing a documentary on us, young man.

-Oh, please? -No. Leave us alone.

Just a little one about the appalling conditions under which you live?

No. Get out of our house. Go on.

Oh, all right. Come on, George, pick it up.

Why don't you do a documentary about the drug problem round in Walton Street?

Oh, I'll go and have a bath.

♪ The splendor falls On castle walls ♪

♪ And snowy summits Old in story ♪

Here. There's Alfred, Lord Tennyson in the bathroom.

Well, at least the poet's been installed, then.

Yes, a poet is essential for complete home comfort and all-year-round reliability and low cost.

We in the East Midlands Poet Board hope to have a poet in every home by the end of next year.

♪ Poets are both Clean and warm ♪

♪ And most are far Above the norm ♪

♪ Whether here or on the roam ♪

♪ Have a poet in every home ♪

MAN: I wandered lonely as a cloud

-[DOORBELL RINGS] -That floats on high...

Good morning, madam. I've come to read your poet.

Oh, yes. It's in the cupboard under the stairs.

[COUGHS]

What is it, a Swinburne? Shelley?

-No, it's a Wordsworth. -Oh, bloody "Daffodils."

WORDSWORTH: Beneath the trees

Fluttering and dancing In the breeze.

Continuous as the stars That shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way.

They stretched...

-Right. Thank you, madam. -Oh, not at all. Thank you.

It's a nice day, isn't it?

Yes, yes. The weather situation is generally favorable.

Uh, there's a ridge of high pressure centered over Ireland, which is moving eastwards, bringing cloudy weather to parts of the West Country, Wales, and areas west of the Pennines.

On tomorrow's chart, the situation's much the same.

With this occluded front bringing drier, warmer weather.

Temperature's above average for the time of year.

That's 3 degrees centigrade, 44 degrees Fahrenheit.

So don't forget to wrap up well.

That's all from me. Good night.

Now on BBC television, a choice of viewing.

On BBC 2, a discussion on censorship

between Derek Hart, the Bishop of Woolwich, and a nude man.

And on BBC 1, me telling you this. And now--

We don't want that, do we?

Do you really want that cherry in your tea?

Do you like doing this job?

Uh, well, it's, uh, it's a living, isn't it?

I mean, don't you get bored reading people's poets all day?

Well, you know, sometimes, yeah.

Anyway, I-I think I better be going.

You've got a nice torch, haven't you?

Uh, yeah, yeah, it, uh, it, uh, goes, uh, on and off.

How many volts is it?

Oh, uh, well, I'll have a look at the batteries.

Oh, yes, yes.

It's, uh, four and a half volts.

Mm, that's wonderful. Do you want another look at the poet?

No, I must be off, really.

I've got Thomas Hardy in the bedroom.

I'd like you to look at him.

I can't touch him. He's a novelist.

He keeps mumbling all night.

Well, novelists do, you see.

Oh, forget him. What's your name, deary?

Harness.

No, no, your first name, silly.

-Wombat. -Oh, Wombat.

Wombat Harness.

Take me to the place where eternity knows no bounds, where the garden of love encloses us round.

-Oh, Harness. -All right.

I'll have a quick look at your Thomas Hardy.

Nude man, what did you make of that?

Well, don't you see? That was exactly the kind of explicit sexual reference I'm objecting to.

It-It's titillation for the sake of it, a deliberate attempt at cheap sensationalism.

I don't care what the so-called avant-garde, left-wing, intellectual namby-pambies say, it is filth!

Bishop.

Okay, don't anybody move.

[♪♪]

The BBC would like to apologize

for the constant repetition in this show.

The BBC would like to apologize

for the constant repetition in this show.

-Hey, oops. -Whoa.

Whoops-a-daisy.

BOTH: Whoa.

I say.

[CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

[WHIMPERING]

[BANGING]

Shut up, all of you up there.

Why can't a guy get some sleep around here?

Little peace and quiet's all I want.

Stop the noise now, or I'm coming up.

[CLUCKING]

I hope you're en- joy- ing this.

-[SIREN WAILING] -ANNOUNCER: Attention.

There's been a nasty five-frog curse near the M4.

Proceed immediately to the area.

-Oh, dear. -Looks bad.

-Mm, very bad. -Quite agreed.

MAN 1: Only one thing to do with a multiple-frog curse like this.

MAN 2: Right-o. Get the magic wand.

Clear the area.

Fire!

[IN UNISON] Thank you.

And now a sketch about a chemist called

"The Chemist Sketch."

Right, I've got some of your prescriptions here.

Uh, who's got the pox?

Come on, who's got the pox?

Come on. Catch.

Who's got a boil on the bum?

Boil on the botty.

Who's got the chest rash?

Have to get a bigger bottle.

Who's got, uh-- Who's got wind?

Catch.

The BBC would like to apologize

for the poor quality of the writing in that sketch.

It is not BBC policy to get easy laughs

with words like bum, knickers, botty or wee-wees.

Shh.

These are the words which are not to be used again on this program.

-Semprini? -Out!

Right, who's got a boil on his semprini, then?

-Good morning. -Good morning, sir.

I'd like some aftershave please.

Certainly, sir. Walk this way please.

If I could walk that way, I wouldn't need aftershave.

Good morning.

Good morning, sir. Can I help you?

Yes. I'd like some aftershave please.

A toilet requisite-t-t-t-t-t-t-t.

T-t-t. Would you like to try this, sir?

It's our very latest. It's called Sea Mist.

[SNIFFS] Hm. Quite like it.

How about something more musky?

This one's called Mimmo.

Not really, no. Have you anything a little fishier?

-Fishier? -Fishier.

Fish, fish, fish.

A fishy requisite-t-t-t-t-t-t-t.

Like halibut or sea bass.

-Or bream? -Yes.

No, we haven't got any of that.

Uh, I've got mackerel or cod or hake?

You haven't got anything a little more halibut-ish?

Uh... Parrot?

What's that doing there?

Or skate with just a hint of prawn?

Or crab, tiger and almonds? Very unusual.

I really had my heart set on halibut.

Well, sir, we had a fishy consignment in this morning so I could nip down to the basement and see if I can come up trumps with this particular requisite-t-t-t-t-t.

So it was halibut or...?

-Sea bass. -Sea bass. Won't be a moment-t-t-t.

Sorry about this.

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.

Normally, we try and avoid these little pauses, longueurs.

Only dramatically he's gone down to the basement, you see.

Of course, there isn't really a basement, uh, but he just goes off and we pretend.

Actually, what happens is, he just goes off there, off camera, and just waits there, so it looks as though he's gone down to the basement.

Actually, I think he's rather overdoing it. Ah.

[PANTING] Oh, sorry, sir. Lot of steps.

I'm afraid it didn't come in this morning, sir.

We have got some at our Kensington branch.

I'll just nip down there and get it for you.

-How long will that be? -Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes?

Oh. Uh,

"I wonder what other people use for aftershave lotion?"

I use a body rub called Halitosis.

It makes my breath seem sweet.

I use an aftershave called Semprini.

Uh, sorry, sorry, can't stop now. Gotta get to Kensington.

I use two kinds of aftershave lotion: frankincense, myrrh--

Three kinds of aftershave lotion: frankincense, myrrh, sandalwood--

Four kinds of aftershave lotion: frankincense--

I have a cold shower every morning just before I go mad, and then I go mad one. Mad two. Mad three. Mad four.

I use Rancid Polecat No. 2.

It keeps my skin nice and scaly.

Uh. Sorry again. Can't stop. Gotta get back.

[PANTING] Ooh! Well, I'm afraid they don't have any at our Kensington branch.

But we have got some at the depot.

-Where's that? -Aberdeen.

-Aberdeen? -It's all right.

You wait here. I've got a car.

No, no. I'll take the other. The crab, tiger and--

-Almond requisite-t-t-t-t-t? -I'll take it.

[BLOWS WHISTLE]

Right, right, right!

Now then, now then. Your turn.

Aren't you going to say, "What's all this, then?"

Oh, right. What's all this, then?

This man has been shoplifting, officer.

-Oh, yes? -Yes.

Are you trying to tell me my job?

No, but he's been shoplifting.

Look, I must warn you that anything you may say will be ignored.

And furthermore, given half a chance,

I'll put my fist through your teeth.

F'tang, f'tang.

But, officer, this man here--

Look, I've had enough of you. You're under arrest.

[IMITATING AIRPLANE]

Officer, it wasn't him. He's the shoplifter.

No, I'm not.

He's not. I'm a witness.

Look, one more peep out of you, and I'll do you for heresy.

Heresy? Blimey, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition.

Shut up! F'tang, f'tang!

Oh, that's nice. Right.

I'm taking you along to the station.

What for?

I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. Right.

Lunar module calling Buzz Aldrin. Come in.

[BUZZING]

♪ Raindrops keep falling On my head ♪

♪ But that doesn't mean-- ♪

The BBC would like to apologize to the police

about the character of Police Constable Pan Am.

He was not meant to represent the average police officer.

Similarly, the reference to Buzz Aldrin, the astronaut,

was the product of a disordered mind,

and should not be construed as having any other significance.

["THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER" PLAYS]

[IN UNISON] And now for something completely different.

[ALL GIGGLING]

[IN UNISON] Ooh, that was fun.

And now...

GUMBIES: The end! The end! The end!