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Royal Episode 13

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'm not simply going to say,

"And now for something completely different," this week, because I do not think it would fit.

This is a particularly auspicious occasion for us this evening, as we have been told that Her Majesty the Queen will be watching part of this show tonight.

Now we don't know exactly when Her Majesty will be tuning in.

We understand that at the moment she is watching The Virginian, but we have been promised that we will be informed the moment that she changes the channel.

Her Majesty would like everyone to behave quite normally, but her equerry has asked me to request all of you at home to stand when the great moment arrives, although we here in the studio will be carrying on with our humorous vignettes and spoofs in the ordinary way.

Thank you. And now, without any more ado, and completely as normal, here are the opening titles.

[ELGAR'S "POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE" PLAYING]

[CHURCH CHOIR SINGING]

ANNOUNCER: The coal miners of Wales

have long been famed for their tough, rugged life,

hewing the black gold from the uncompromising hell of one mile under.

This is the story of such men,

battling gallantly against floods, roof falls,

the English criminal law,

the hidden killer, carbon monoxide,

and the ever-present threat of pneumoconiosis,

which is a disease miners get.

Don't you talk to me like that, you lying bastard.

Oh, you bleeding pig, you're not fit to be down a mine.

Oh, yeah, typical bleeding Rhondda, isn't it?

You think you're so bloody clever.

-[GROANS] -All right, okay.

You bloody fighting again?

Break it up or I'll put this pick through your head.

-Now what's it all about? -He started it.

Oh, you bleeding pig, you started it.

I don't care who bloody started it. What's it about?

Well, he said the bloody Treaty of Utrecht was 1713.

So, it bloody is.

No, it bloody isn't.

It wasn't ratified till February, 1714.

He's bluffing.

Your mind's gone, Jenkins. You're rubbish.

He's right, Jenkins.

It was ratified September, 1713.

The whole bloody pit knows that.

Look in Trevelyan, Page 468.

He's thinking of the Treaty of bloody Westphalia.

Are you saying I don't know the difference between the War of bloody Spanish Succession and the Thirty bloody Years' War?

You don't know the difference between the Battle of Borodino and a tiger's bum.

Break it up, break it up.

I'm sick of all this bloody fighting.

If it's not the bloody Treaty of Utrecht, it's the bloody binomial theorem.

This isn't the senior common room at All Souls, it's the bloody coalface.

Hey, gaffer, can you settle something?

Morgan here says you find the abacus between the triglyphs in the frieze section of the entablature of classical Greek Doric temples.

-You bloody fool, Morgan, that's the metope. -MORGAN: Ah.

The abacus is between the architrave and the echinus in the capital.

You stinking liar!

[ALL SHOUTING]

[BELL RINGING]

[FANFARE PLAYING]

Oh, most magnificent and merciful Majesty, master of the universe, protector of the meek, whose nose we are not worthy to pick.

And whose very feces are an untrammeled delight.

And whose peacocks keep us awake all hours of the night with their noisy lovemaking.

We beseech thee, tell thy humble servants the name of the section between the triglyphs in the frieze section of a classical Doric entablature.

-No idea. Sorry. -Right. Everybody out!

Still no settlement in the coal mine dispute at Llanddarog.

Miners refuse to return to work until the management define a metope.

Meanwhile at Dagenham, the unofficial strike committee at Fords have increased their demands to 13 reasons why Henry III was a bad king.

And finally, in the disgusting objects international at Wembley tonight,

England beat Spain by a plate of braised pus to a putrid heron.

And now the Toad Elevating Moment.

[♪♪♪]

Good evening.

Well, we have in the studio tonight a man who says things in a very roundabout way.

Isn't that so, Mr. Pudifoot?

Yes.

Um, have you always said things in a very roundabout way?

Yes.

Ha. Well, I can't help noticing that for someone who claims to say things in a very roundabout way, your last two answers have had very little of the discursive quality about them.

Oh, well, I'm not very talkative today.

It-- It's a form of defensive response to intense interrogative stimuli.

I used to get it very bad when I was a boy.

Well, when I say badly, in fact, uh, do you remember that fashion they had for little, you know, poodles--

Oh, now you're beginning to talk--

You're beginning to talk in a roundabout way.

Oh, I'm sorry.

No, no, no, no.

Please, do carry on, because that is, in fact, why we wanted you on the show.

I thought it was because you were interested in me as a human being.

Well, let's move on to our next guest, who not only lives in Essex, but also speaks only the ends of words, Mr. Ohn Ith.

Mr. Ith, good evening.

Od Ing.

Nice to have you on the show.

Ice-oo-ee-ere.

Mr. Ith, don't you find it difficult to make yourself understood?

Yes, it is extremely difficult.

Just a minute, you're a fraud.

No, I can speak the third and fourth sentences perfectly normally.

I see. So your next sentence will be only the ends of words again?

Es-ats-ight.

Well, let's move on to our next guest, who speaks only the beginnings of words, Mr. J Sm.

-Mr. Sm, good evening. -Go-ev.

Oh, have you two met before?

-N-- --O.

-N-- --O.

Well, this is really a fascinating occasion because we have in the studio Mr. Oh I, who speaks only the middles of words.

-Good evening. -Oo-eni.

And where do you come from?

Oh-eh-ah.

Dunfermline in Scotland.

Well, let me introduce you,

-Mr. Ohn Ith, Mr. J Sm. -Od-ing.

-Mr. J Sm. -Oo-eni.

-Goo-eve. -Od-ing.

[LAUGHING] Yes, well, just a moment.

Perhaps you would all like to say "good evening" together.

-Ah! Go-- -Oo.

-De. -Ee.

-Ve. -Ning.

[WHISTLES]

-Hi there, beautiful. -[GROANS]

[WHIMPERS]

Hi, Bob. Say, what's the matter with you?

I don't know, Tom, but girls seem to avoid me these days.

[MOANS]

Could be bad breath, Bob.

Say, have you tried using Crelm toothpaste?

Gosh, Tom, do you think that would help?

You bet your boots it will, Bob.

Tom was sure right.

Crelm has changed my life.

Hi, girls.

[GOBBLING]

[BURPS]

This table has been treated with ordinary soap powder, but these have been treated with new Fibro-Val.

We put both of them in our washing machine and just look at the difference.

The table is all broken and smashed, but the sheets with Fibro-Val are sparkling clean and white.

[♪♪♪]

ANNOUNCER: I love the surgical garment.

Enjoy the delights

of the Victor Mature Abdominal Corset.

Sail down the Nile on the Bleed-it Kosher Truss.

And don't forget the Hercules Hold-'em-in, the all-purpose concrete truss for the man with the family hernia.

Well, last week on Fish Club, we learned how to sex a pike.

Now, this week we're going to learn how to feed a goldfish.

Now, contrary to what most people think, the goldfish has a ravenous appetite.

If it doesn't get enough protein, it gets very thin and its bones begin to stick out, and its fins start to fall off.

So once a week, give your goldfish a really good meal.

Here's one specially recommended by the board of irresponsible people.

First, some cold consommé or gazpacho, then some sausages with spring greens,

-sautéed potatoes, bread, gravy-- -That's enough. That's enough.

-That's enough. -[SCREAMS]

ANNOUNCER: The R.S.P.C.A. wish it to be known

that that man was not a bona fide animal lover,

and also that goldfish do not eat sausages.

-MAN: Treacle tart! -ANNOUNCER: Shut up.

They are quite happy with breadcrumbs, ants' eggs and--

Who wrote that?

[♪♪♪]

-WOMAN: Oh, Charles. -[CHARLES LAUGHING]

-Oh, Charles. No, no. -Come on.

-Oh, no. -[LAUGHING]

-Please. Please, no. -Come on.

-[WOMAN MUTTERING] -CHARLES: Oh, Come on.

-Oh, no, Charles. -Come on.

-[WOMAN MUTTERING] -[CHARLES LAUGHING]

-WOMAN: Oh, Charles. -CHARLES: Oh.

Come on.

-Come on. -[WOMAN WHIMPERING]

[CHARLES LAUGHING] Come on.

-[WOMAN WHIMPERING] -[CHARLES LAUGHING]

I hope you're enjoying the show.

ANNOUNCER: Herbert Mental collects birdwatchers' eggs.

At his home in Surrey he has a collection

of over 400 of them.

Here now, uh, this is a very interesting one.

Uh, this is from a Mr. P.F. Bradshaw.

He is usually found in Surrey hedgerows, uh, but I found this one in the gents' at St. Pancras, uneaten.

ANNOUNCER: Mr. Mental, why did you start collecting birdwatchers' eggs?

Oh, well, uh, I did it to get on Man Alive.

ANNOUNCER: Man Alive?

That's right, yes.

Uh, but then that got all serious, so I carried on in the hope of a quick appearance as an eccentric on the regional section of Nationwide.

ANNOUNCER: Mr. Mental, I believe a couple of years ago you started to collect butterfly hunters.

-Uh, butterfly hunters? -ANNOUNCER: Yes.

Oh, that's right. Here's a couple of them over here, you see.

Nice little chaps.

But the hobby I enjoyed most was racing pigeon fanciers.

[ALL COOING]

[ELGAR'S "POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE" PLAYING]

[ALL COOING]

Dinsdale. Dinsdale.

Is the balloon ready?

Yeah, boss. Coming right up.

Hey. Let's go.

ANNOUNCER: Monty Python

proudly presents:

[FANFARE PLAYING]

[GIGGLING]

ANNOUNCER: The...

[♪♪♪]

Uh, good morning.

I-- I've been in touch with you about the, uh, life insurance.

Ah, yes, uh, did you-- Did you bring the, mmm, specimen of-- of your, mmm--

-And so on, and so on? -Uh, yes, I did.

-Uh, it's in the car. -Good.

There's rather a lot.

Good, good.

Do you really need 12 gallons?

No. No, not really.

-Do you test it? -No.

Well, why do you want it?

Well, we do it to make sure that you're serious about wanting insurance.

I mean, uh, if you're not, you won't spend a couple of months filling up that enormous churn with, mmm, so on and so on.

Shall I bring it in?

Good Lord, no. Throw it away.

Throw it away?

I was months filling that thing up.

[DRUMROLL]

[MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

["GOD SAVE THE QUEEN" PLAYING]

ANNOUNCER: And we've just heard that Her Majesty the Queen

has just tuned in to this program,

and so she is now watching this royal sketch

here in this royal set.

The actor on the left is wearing the great gray suit

of the BBC Wardrobe Department,

and the other actor is about to deliver

the first great royal joke here this royal evening.

Over to the right you can see

the royal cameraman, and behind--

Oh, we've just heard she's switched over.

She's watching News at Ten.

[ALL GROANING]

--despite the union's recommendation that the strikers should accept the second and third clauses of the agreement arrived at last Thursday.

[DRUMROLL AND "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN" PLAYING]

Today saw the publication of the McGuffie Commission's controversial report on treatment of inpatients in north London hospitals.

DOCTOR: Get on parade!

Come on!

We haven't got all day, have we?

Come on, come on, come on.

[ALL GROANING]

DOCTOR: Hurry up!

Get at it!

Right!

Now, I know some hospitals where you get the patients lying around in bed.

Sleeping, resting, recuperating, convalescing.

Well, that's not the way we do things here, right!

No, you won't be loafing about in bed, wasting the doctors' time.

You, you horrible little cripple.

What's the matter with you?

Fractured tibia, sergeant.

"Fractured tibia, sergeant."

"Fractured tibia, sergeant."

Proper little mummy's boy, aren't we?

Well, I'll tell you something, my fine friend, if you fracture a tibia here, you keep quiet about it!

Look at him!

He's broke both his arms and he don't go shouting about it, do he?

No, 'cause he's a man!

He's a woman, you see, so don't come with that broken tibia talk with me!

Get on your feet at the double!

One, two, three, pick that crutch up.

Pick that crutch right up!

Right.

Squad, turn!

Squad, right.

Turn!

Squad, by the left, quick limp!

Come on, pick them up.

Get some air in those wounds.

Here at St. Pooves, we believe in A.R.T.

Active Recuperation Techniques.

We try to help the patient understand that however ill he may be, he can still fulfill a useful role in society.

Sun lounge please, Mr. Griffiths.

Well...

I got a triple fracture of the right leg, dislocated collarbone, and multiple head injuries, so I do most of the heavy work, like helping the surgeon.

INTERVIEWER: What does that involve?

Well, at the moment, we're building him a holiday home.

INTERVIEWER: What about the nurses?

Oh, well, I don't know about them.

They're not allowed to mix with the patients.

INTERVIEWER: Do all the patients work?

No, no.

The ones that are really ill do sport.

[♪♪♪]

ANNOUNCER: Yes, one thing patients here dread are the runs.

INTERVIEWER: How are you feeling?

Much better.

[GROANS]

[GRUNTING]

ANNOUNCER: But the patients are allowed visiting.

And this week they're visiting an iron foundry at Swindon,

which is crying out for unskilled labor.

[♪♪♪]

But this isn't the only hospital

where doctors' conditions are improving.

Oh, we have very little shortage of doctors here.

We have over 40 doctors per bed--

Patient.

I'll be honest. Bed.

We've every facility here for dealing with people who are rich.

We can deal with a blocked purse, we can drain private accounts, and in the worst cases we can perform a total "cashectomy," which is total removal of all moneys from the patient.

Well, here we try to help people who have to link sketches together.

We try to stop them saying, "Have you ever wondered what it would be like if," and instead to say something like, um...

"And now the mountaineering sketch."

Oh, I haven't written a mountaineering sketch, but now over to the exploding version of the "Blue Danube."

[PLAYING STRAUS' "THE BLUE DANUBE"]

ANNOUNCER: And now a dormitory in a girls' public school.

[SNORING]

[FOOTSTEPS]

[CLATTERING]

MAN 1: Hello, Agnes?

Agnes, are you awake?

Agnes?

[MOANING]

[SLAPPING]

MAN: Agnes?

MAN 2: Who is it? Is that you, Charlie?

MAN 1: Yeah, Agnes. Where's Jane?

MAN 3: I'm over here, Charlie.

MAN 1: Jane, we're going down to raid the tuck shop.

MAN 2: Oh, good-o. Count me in, girls.

MAN 4: Can I come too, Agnes?

MAN 1: Yeah, Joyce.

MAN 5: And me and Avril?

MAN 3: Yeah, rather. And Suki.

MAN 4: Oh, whacko the diddle-oh.

MAN 1: Table it, girls, here comes Miss Rodgers.

All right, girls.

Now stop this tomfoolery and get back into bed.

Remember it's the big match at St. Bridget's tomorrow.

Yes, on your screen tomorrow,

The Naughtiest Girl in the School,

starring the men of the 14th Marine Commandos.

And now it's documentary time,

when we look at the momentous last years

of the Second World War.

And tonight the invasion of Normandy,

performed by the girls of Oakdene High School,

Upper Fifth Science.

MAN: Come on, come on, come on.

[ALL SQUEALING]

Oh, it's still raining.

I'm going down the shops.

Oh, be a dear and get me some ratsbane for the budgie's boil.

Otherwise, I'll put your eyes out.

Aye, aye, captain.

WOMAN: Calling torpedo bay.

Hi, torpedo bay.

She said torpedo bay.

Yes, she did, she did.

Yes, she said torpedo bay. She did, she did.

She said torpedo bay.

Hello, this is Lieutenant Edale here.

Mrs. Midshipman Nesbitt's got one of her headaches again,

so I put her in the torpedo tube.

Roger, Mrs. Edale, stand by to fire Mrs. Nesbitt.

Stand by to fire Mrs. Nesbitt.

Standing by to fire Mrs. Nesbitt.

Red alert, put the kettle on.

Kettle on.

Engine room, stand by to feed the cat.

Standing by to feed the cat.

Fire, Mrs. Nesbitt!

Oh, that's much better.

MAN: "As an admiral who came up through the ranks

more times than you've had hot dinners,

I wish to join my husband, Admiral O.W.A. Giveaway,

in condemning this shoddy misrepresentation

of our modern navy.

The British Navy is one of the finest

and most attractive

and butchest fighting forces in the world.

I love those white flared trousers

and the feel of rough blue serge

on those pert little buttocks.

I'm afraid we are unable to show you any more of that letter.

We continue with a man with a stoat through his head.

And now:

Still no sign of land.

How long is it?

That's rather a personal question, sir.

You stupid git.

I meant how long we've been in the lifeboat.

You've spoiled the atmosphere now.

-I'm sorry. -Shut up!

We'll have to start again.

Still no sign of land.

How long is it?

Thirty-three days, sir.

Thirty-three days.

I don't think we can hold out longer.

-I don't think I did spoil the atmosphere. -Shut up!

I'm sorry, I don't think I did.

Of course you did.

Do you think I spoiled the atmosphere?

-Well, I-- I think you-- -Look, shut up! Shut up!

[COUGHING]

Still no sign of land.

How long is it?

Thirty-three days.

Have we started again? Oh!

Still no sign of land.

How long is it?

-Thirty-three days, sir. -Thirty-three days?

Yes. We can't hold out much longer.

We haven't had any food since the fifth day.

We're done for, we're done for!

Shut up, Maudling!

We've just gotta keep hoping someone will find us.

How are you feeling, captain?

Not so good.

I feel so weak.

HODGES: We can't hold out much longer.

[COUGHING]

Listen, chaps, there's one last chance.

I'm done for, I've got a gammy leg, and I'm going fast, I'll never get through, but-- some of you might.

So you'd better eat me.

Eat you, sir?

Yes. Eat me.

[GROANS]

With a gammy leg?

You don't have to eat the leg, Thompson, there's still plenty of good meat.

Look at that arm.

It's not just the leg, sir.

What do you mean?

Well, sir, it's just that--

Why don't you want to eat me?

I'd rather eat Johnson, sir.

Oh, so would I, sir.

I see.

Oh, well, that's settled. Everyone eats me.

-Well, I, um... -What, sir?

No, no, you go ahead, I won't...

Nonsense, nonsense, sir, you're starving. Tuck in!

No, it's-- It's not just that.

What's the matter with Johnson, sir?

Well, he's not kosher.

Depends how we kill him, sir.

Yes, yes, I see that, but, um, well, to be quite frank,

I like my meat a little more lean.

I'd rather eat Hodges.

Oh, well, all right.

No, I'd still prefer to eat Johnson.

I wish you'd stop bickering and eat me.

I tell you what.

Why don't those of us who want to eat Johnson, then you, sir, can eat my leg, and then we can make a stock of the captain, and then after that we can eat the rest of Johnson cold for supper?

-Good thinking, Hodges. -We'll finish off with peaches.

And we can start off with the avocados.

Waitress!

Waitress, we've decided now.

We're going to have a leg of Hodges.

[AUDIENCE GROANING]

MAN: Dear sir, I am glad to hear that your studio audience

disapproves of the last skit as strongly as I.

As a naval officer, I abhor the implication

that the Royal Navy is a haven for cannibalism.

It is well known that we now have the problem

relatively under control,

and that it's the RAF who now suffer

the largest casualties in this area.

And what do you think the Argylls ate in Aden?

Arabs?

Yours et cetera, Captain B.J. Smethwick,

in a white wine sauce with shallots,

mushrooms and garlic.

[CHOMPING]

MAN: Stop it. Stop it!

Stop this cannibalism!

Let's have a sketch about clean, decent human beings.

[RINGING]

-Good morning. -Ah, good morning.

What will I do for you, squire?

Well, uh, I wonder if you can help me.

Um, you see, my mother has just died.

Oh, yeah, we can help you.

-We deal with stiffs. -What?

Well, there are three things we can do with your mother:

We can burn her, bury her or dump her.

Dump her?

-Dump her in the Thames. -What?!

-Oh, did you like her? -Yes.

Oh, we won't dump her, then. Well, what do you think?

We can bury her or burn her.

Well, uh, which do you recommend?

Well, they're both nasty.

Uh, if we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames.

Crackle, crackle, crackle.

Which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick.

Then we give you a handful of ashes,

-which you can pretend were hers. -Oh.

Or if we bury her, she gets eaten up by lots of weevils and nasty maggots which, as I said before, is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

I see.

Well, she's, uh-- She's definitely dead.

-Where is she? -Oh, she's in this sack.

Can I have a look?

[AUDIENCE BOOING]

She looks quite young.

Yes. Yes, she was.

-Fred? -FRED: Yeah?

I think we've got an eater.

-[AUDIENCE BOOS] -What?

-I'll get the oven on. -Right.

Uh, excuse me, um, are you--? Are--?

Are you suggesting... eating my mother?

[AUDIENCE SHOUTS]

-Yeah. Not raw, cooked. -What?

You know, roasted, a few French fries, broccoli, horseradish sauce.

MAN: That's nasty.

Well, I-- I do feel a bit peckish.

[AUDIENCE GROANS]

Great!

Can we have some parsnips?

Fred, get some parsnips!

I really don't think I should.

Look, tell you what.

We'll eat her, if you feel a bit guilty about it afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up in it.

[AUDIENCE ROARS]

[ALL SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

["GOD SAVE THE QUEEN" PLAYING]