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Michael Ellis

[COIN CLINKS]

[♪]

[♪]

Oof!

Yes, this looks the sort of thing.

May I just try it?

Certainly, madam.

Ooh!

Sorry, so sorry.

Yes, that's fine.

Is that on account, madam?

WOMAN: Yes.

Hello?

[RINGS]

Hello?

[SQUAWKS]

[SQUAWKS]

[SQUAWKS]

Oh, I'm terribly sorry.

I thought you were someone else.

Oh, I see, yes.

I'm-- I'm sorry, sir, can I help you?

Uh, yes-- Yes, as a matter of fact you can, actually.

I-- I was interested in the possibility of pur--

Can I ask you who you thought I was? What?

Who did you think I was, just then, when you thought I was somebody?

Oh, it's no one you'd know, sir.

Well, I might know them.

Well, it's possible, but I think it's unlikely.

I know quite a lot--

He's hardly likely to move in your circle, sir.

Why, is he very rich?

Oh, no, I didn't mean that, sir.

Is he a lord, or something? Oh, no. Not at all.

This is very easy to settle.

What is his name? What?

What is his name?

Well, um--

Yes?

Michael Ellis.

Who?

Michael Ellis.

I see.

Do you know him, sir?

Oh, Michael Ellis. Um...

Michael Ellis--

You don't.

Well, I don't remember the name.

I think you would remember him, sir.

Why do you say that?

Well, would you remember a man 6-foot, 9-inches high, 40-ish, and he's got a scar from here to here, and absolutely no nose?

Oh, I think I do remember somebody like that.

Well, that's not Michael Ellis.

He's a small man about this high, with a high-pitched voice.

Right, I'm not gonna buy an ant from you now.

Oh, no. Please? I know you've not been trained.

I demand another assistant. Oh, no, come on.

I want another assistant.

All right. I'll get another assistant. Thank you.

Hello, sir, can I help you, sir?

No, I want a different assistant.

I am, sir. I'm Mr. Abanazar, sir.

Don't be silly.

Oh, no, please, please let me help you.

No, I want another assistant. Come on.

If you don't give me another assist--

No, no, I'll be very good, sir.

Good morning, sir. How are you, sir?

Bit parky outside, isn't it?

Very nice suit you've got there, sir.

You had a close shave this morning.

Right, I'm going. No, no, no, please!

I'll get another assistant.

All right.

Whoooo!

It's not him.

Oh. I don't want him.

Oh, please, give him a chance.

No.

Yes, sir. Can I be of any assistance?

Oh, come on, don't try that.

I'm sorry, sir, try what?

You know what I mean.

I'm afraid I don't, sir.

You were down there with a silly mask on, going "whooo!"

I don't think I was, sir.

All right, get the manager.

There seems to be some sort of a misunderstanding, sir.

Manager!

This is the manager, sir.

What? Yes, I'm the manager.

Manager.

It's a smashing store. Can't recommend it too highly.

Well lit, rat-free. It's a joy to manage.

Manager. Oh, yes.

Freshest haddock in London, second floor.

Third floor, Ribena. Ants here. Manager!

Television and flame throwers over there, our dinner-wagon exhibition-- Manager!

Quick!

Yes, sir? Can I help you, sir?

Yes, I want to complain about the assistants on this counter.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Which ones?

Well, they're hiding now.

Sir?

They're hiding, down there, behind the counter.

I see, sir.

[CHUCKLES]

Well, there's nobody down here, sir.

Well, they-- They must've crawled through here, crawled along and made their escape through soft toys.

Yes, of course.

They were wearing masks and going "whoo!", making noises.

And one of them pretended to be the manager. Sir?

He went, "Oh, yes, I'm the manager.

Smashing store to manage, this.

Freshest haddock in London."

I think I've got it, sir. I think I've got it.

It's rag week. Heh.

Rag week?

Yes, you know, for charity, sir.

Oh, I see.

Some local college or university?

No, no, it's the store's rag week, sir.

The store's rag week?

Yes. The senior staff don't join in much.

It's for the trainees, really.

Not very good for business, is it?

Oh, it's for charity.

People are awfully good about it, you know.

I see, yeah.

Right, sir. Well, I'll get you a senior assistant.

Ants, was it? Yes, please, yes.

Mr. Snetterton?

Could you look after--? I don't want him!

Oh, please, give me a chance.

No!

All right. Mr. Hartford.

Yes, good morning, sir.

Can I help you? Yes, please.

I'm interested in buying an ant.

Ah, yes. And, uh, what price were you thinking of paying, sir?

Oh, well, I hadn't actually got as far as that.

Well, sir, they start about half a P, but they can go as high as 3P, or even 3 and a half P for a champion.

Uh, inflation, I'm afraid.

Well, I should think one about 1 and a half P, please.

You'll get a serviceable little animal for that, sir.

Quite frankly, the half-P ones are a bit on the mangy side.

What, uh--?

What length was sir thinking of?

Oh, uh...medium?

Medium. Medium, medium, medium, medium.

Yes, here we are.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Now, um, that one there is an Ayrshire.

And that one there is a King George bitch, I think.

And that one killing the little flitbat is an Afghan.

That's a nice one.

Oh, well, let's see how you get on with him, eh?

Ah, yes, he likes you.

He's taken to you.

What do you feed them on?

Uh, blancmange.

Blancmange?

I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that.

No, you don't feed them at all.

Well, what do they live on?

They don't. They die.

They die?

Of course they do, if you don't feed them.

I don't understand.

Well, you let them die. Then you buy another one.

It's much cheaper than feeding them.

You have a constant variety of little companions.

I see. That's the advantage of owning an ant.

Well, I'll take this one. Oh, dear, I've dropped it.

Never mind. Here's another one. Thank you.

Is there anything else I'll need?

Yes, sir, you'll need an ant house.

This is the, uh, model we recommend, sir.

Won't it get out of there?

Yes.

Then what's the point of having the cage?

Well, none at all really.

Then some little pieces of cage furniture, which will keep him entertained.

There's an ant-wheel.

And there's a little ant-swing.

Here, sir, here's a very nice one here, a little ladder.

He can run up, ring the bell, that's a trick he can learn.

Will he live long enough?

Not really, no. But it's best to have one.

And, um, here's a two-way radio he can play with.

And then of course you'll need, uh, the book.

The book?

Uh, yes, yes. The, uh-- The book on ants.

I see.

So, sir, that is, if I may say so, 184 pounds, one and a half P, sir.

Well, will you take a check?

Yes, sir, if you don't mind leaving a blood sample and a piece of skin off the back of the scalp just here, sir.

Sorry, it's just for identification, you know?

Can't be too careful.

Oh, I think I'll put it on account.

I should, sir. Much less painful.

Uh, there we are.

Anyway, sir, you know what they say about an ant.

A friend for life, eh?

Well, a friend for its life anyway.

Now, then, uh--

Ah. Here we are. His name's Marcus.

Right.

If the little chap should go to an early grave, sir, give us a ring and we'll stick a few in an envelope, all right?

Thanks very much, indeed.

Not at all. Thank you, Mr. Ellis.

Shhh! What did you say?

I said, thank you, Mr. Ellis. It's not him.

Why did you say I was Mr. Ellis?

Who?

No, no, he didn't say that.

Yes, I heard him say, "Thank you, Mr. Ellis."

No, no, he said, "I'm jealous."

What?

"I'm jealous of your ant."

Goodbye. Goodbye.

CLERK 2: Bye-bye. Bye.

I don't care who Michael Ellis is.

[MAN SPEAKING IN GERMAN]

Excuse me, I was in the ant counter a minute ago--

[SPEAKING IN GERMAN]

[SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

[BELL DINGING]

MAN [OVER PA]: Will Mr. Michael Ellis please

go straight to the manager's office.

I'll repeat that.

Will Mr. Nigel Mellish please

go straight to the manager's office.

What you got now?

I bought an ant, Mother.

Oh, devil.

What do you want one of them for?

I'm not gonna clean it out.

You said you'd clean the tiger out, but do you?

No, I suppose you've lost interest in it now.

Now it'll be "ant, ant, ant" for a couple of days, then all of a sudden:

"Oh, Mum, I've bought a sloth or some other odd-toed ungulate like a tapir."

No, it's really different this time, Mum.

I'm really gonna look after this ant.

That's what you said about the sperm whale.

Now your papa's having to use it as a garage.

Well, he didn't feed it properly.

Where are we gonna get 44 tons of plankton from every morning?

Your papa was dead vexed about that.

They thought he was mad in the deli.

Well, at least he's got a free garage.

Right, no good to him.

His Hillman smells all fishy.

[TIGER GROWLING]

Oh, blimey, there's the tiger.

He'll be wanting his mandies.

Are you giving that tiger drugs?

Course I'm giving it drugs.

It's illegal.

You try telling that to the tiger.

Well, I think it's dangerous.

Listen, before he started fixing, he used to get through four Jehovah's Witnesses a day.

And he used to eat all of them, except for the pamphlets.

Well, he's not dim. [GROWLING]

MUM: All right.

Well, I think I'll go watch one of the televisions.

Come on, Marcus.

Oh, by the way,

Michael's been on the phone all day for you.

Michael?

Yeah, you know, Michael.

Michael. Michael Ellis.

Yeah, he's been on the phone all day.

He, uh, came round twice.

What's he look like?

Oh, I didn't see him.

The orange-rumped agouti answered the door.

Only useful animal you ever bought, that.

Where is he now?

He's upstairs forging prescriptions for the sodding tiger.

No, no, no, where's Michael Ellis now?

Oh, I don't know.

He said it wasn't important, anyway.

All right, here I come.

[♪]

Hello, and welcome to the University of the Air.

And first this afternoon,

Part 17 of our series on animal communications.

This afternoon we look at recent discoveries

in the field of intraspecific signaling codes

in the family formicidae.

That's a stroke of luck, Marcus.

Turn that bloody thing off!

...bring you the latest news

of the extraordinary Michael Ellis saga.

Apparently Michael Ellis--

Hey, I was watching that.

Bloody thing.

It's upsetting the tiger.

[TIGER GROWLS]

Oh, Christ.

[CLATTERING]

End of the announcement.

And now, back to University of the Air and our series for advanced medical students,

Elements of Surgical Homeopathic Practice.

Part 68, "Ants."

Oh, we're in luck again, Marcus.

Hello, formicidophiles.

Well, before all the blood and guts you're waiting to see, let's have a look at the anatomy of the little ant.

The body of the ant is divided into three sections:

The head, the thorax and the abdomen.

They're enclosed in a hard,

armor-like covering called the exoskeleton,

which provides some protection

from other nasty little insects.

But unfortunately,

not from the dissector's scalpel.

See, nothing to it.

He's not such a toughie.

And his legs, they help him carry

hundreds of times his own weight,

but look at this:

You're not so strong compared to me.

Four, five, six. Ha!

I didn't know ants had six legs, Marcus.

I assure you they do, Mr. Ellis.

Hey, you've got two legs missing.

And that's a false feeler, Marcus.

Blimey.

I'm taking this ant back, Mother, he's got two legs missing.

Mrs. McWong's been on the phone.

The polar bear's been in her garden again.

I'll get it on the way back from the store.

Well, mind you do.

His droppings are enormous.

Oh, and by the way, while you're out, get us another couple of tellies, would you.

Here's 180 quid.

Second floor.

Stationery, leather goods, nasal injuries, cricket bats, film stars, dolphinariums.

Third floor.

Cosmetics, books, Irish massage, tribal headgear, ants.

But not complaints about ants.

Oh, where do I go to complain?

Straight on, then left, then right past the thing, then up the little stairs, then right past the bit where it's gone all soft, then down the wobbly bit, left past the nail, past the brown stain on the wall to your right, and it's the door marked "exit," straight ahead of you on the left.

Thank you.

Fourth floor, kiddies' vasectomies.

I don't want you.

Oh, something wrong with your little ant friend?

No, I'm not gonna tell you.

Oh, has he got something missing in the leg department?

No.

Yes, sir.

No, no, no.

Oh, it's all right, sir.

It's for the sack race later on, sir.

No, no. I want to speak to the general manager. I want to complain.

You want the Toupee Hall in that case, sir.

The what?

The Toupee Hall, Mr. Ellis.

Excuse me.

Could you tell me the way to the Toupee Hall, please?

Sorry?

Ah, the Toupee Hall.

The what?

The Toupee Hall.

Oh, the Toupee Hall.

Gladys, where are toupees now? Yes?

Toupees?

This gentleman wants one.

A toupee? Mmm.

Well, no, actually.

I think they're in surgical appliances now.

Oh, that's right, yes, you go left at artificial limbs and hearing aids, right at dentures, and it's on your left, just by glass eyes.

It doesn't say "toupees" to avoid embarrassing people, but you can smell them.

Thank you.

You can see the join.

Yes, you can.

WOMAN: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.

It's so nice to see such a large turnout this afternoon.

And I'd like to start off by welcoming our guest speakers for this afternoon, Mr. Wadsworth--

Wordsworth.

Sorry, Wordsworth.

Mr. John Koots, and Percy Bysshe.

Shelley!

Oh, just a little one, medium dry.

And Alfred Lord.

Tennyson.

Tennis ball. Son.

Sorry. Alfred Lord, who is evidently Lord Tennisball's son.

And to start off, I'm going to ask Mr. Wadsworth to recite his latest offering, a little pram entitled:

"I Wandered Lonely as a Crab."

And it's all about ants.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

Oh.

That floats on high

O'er vales and hills

When all at once I saw a crowd

A host of golden worker ants

[APPLAUSE]

Thank you, thank you, Mr. Bradlaugh.

Now, Mr. Bysshe-- Shelley.

Oh, just a little.

--is going to read one of his latest psalms entitled "Ode to a Crab."

Well, it's not about crabs, actually.

It's called "Ozymandias."

It's not an ode.

I met a traveler In an antique land

Who said, six vast And trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert.

And on the pedestal These words appear:

My name is Ozymandias King of ants

ALL: Ooooh!

Look on my feelers, termites And despair!

I am the biggest ant You'll ever see.

ALL: Ooh!

The ants of old weren't

Half as bold and big

And fierce as me

[WILD APPLAUSE]

Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Amontillado.

I'd like to ask one or two of you at the back not to soil the carpet.

There is a restroom upstairs, if you find the poems too exciting.

Good afternoon.

Next, Mr. Dennis Keat will recite his latest problem:

"Ode to a Glass of Sherry."

My heart aches And a drowsy numbness

Pains my senses As though an anteater I'd seen

ALL: Oh!

A nasty long-nosed brute

[ALL YELLING]

With furry legs And sticky, darting tongue

I seem to feel its cruel jaws

Crunch, crunch There go my legs

Snap, snap, my thorax too

My head's in twain There goes my brain

Swallow, swallow

It's true, don't you see, it's true!

It happens. It's happened!

Please.

Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologize for that last--

Well, I hesitate to call it a pram, but I had no idea.

And talking of filth,

I have asked you once about the carpet.

Now, I do appreciate that last poem was very frightening.

But, please.

Now, before we move on to tea and pramwiches,

I would like-- I would like to ask Arthur Lord Tenniscourt to give us his latest little plum, entitled

"The Charge of the Ant Brigade."

Half an inch

Half an inch

MAN: The queen, the queen!

[FANFARE PLAYING]

My loyal subjects.

We are here today on a matter of national import.

My late husband and we are increasingly disturbed by recent developments in literary style that have taken place here in Germany-- England.

There seems to be an increasing tendency for the ant--

Uh, the ant--

The-- The ant to become the dominant--

[SPEAKS IN GERMAN]

Theme.

Theme among poetry here in Germany.

We are not, uh--

Entertained. Entertained.

From now on, ants is verboten.

Instead it's skylarks, daffodils, nightingales, light brigades and--

[SPEAKS IN GERMAN]

Well, we must away now, or we shall be late for the races.

God bless you alles.

[FANFARE PLAYING]

MAN: Psst!

Electric kettles over here, sir.

Don't worry, sir, you're amongst friends now, sir.

Mr. Bradford, Mr. Crawley.

These are our fitters, sir.

We've had a lot of experience in this field, and we do pride ourselves. We offer the best and most discreet service available.

I don't know whether you'll believe this, sir, but one of us is actually wearing a toupee at this moment.

Well, you all are, aren't you?

Have you got one?

Yeah, but I thought you--

I didn't know you. I thought it was me.

I thought it was me!

So did I. That is good.

Oh!

It is, yeah.

Actually, I only came in here to ask where the manager's office was.

Just a minute, someone told you we all had toupees?

No.

Oh, yeah.

How did you know?

Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?

What do you mean, obvious?

His is undetectable.

Well, it's a different color, for a start.

Is it?

Of course it isn't.

It doesn't fit in with the rest of his hair.

It sticks up in the middle.

Well, it's better than yours.

Yes.

I'm not wearing one.

[ALL LAUGH]

Not wearing one.

Why'd you come here in, then?

They told me to find the manager's office here.

Oh, no, not again.

Bit lame, isn't it?

It's the truth.

Manager's office.

I mean, look at it.

Where did you get that, eh? Mac Fisheries?

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Dreadful, isn't it?

Nylon?

It's not, it's real, look.

Oh, anyone can do that.

Come on, get it off.

Look, do you want a proper one?

No, I don't need one.

There's no need to be ashamed.

We've all owned up.

I'm not wearing one.

Don't you see, this is something you've got to come to terms with.

I am not wearing a toupee.

They just told me to come in here to find the manager's office, to complain about my ant.

Complain about an ant?

Look, this is for your own good.

Ow!

MAN: All right. Take a seat.

You see, it ought to have a safety catch.

I mean-- Ooh!

I mean, what if this fell into the wrong hands?

Yes, madam. I'll speak to the makers personally.

Oh, would you?

It would put my mind at ease.

Thank you.

[FLAMETHROWER FIRING]

WOMAN: Sorry, oh, sorry.

Next?

He's still molesting her.

Yes, yes, I'll see you in a moment, sir.

I've got a complaint to make.

Ah, take a seat. I'm sorry it's on fire.

Oh, not at all. I got used to this out east.

Oh, where were you out east?

Oh, Norway, Sweden. Places like that.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry, my suit seems to keep catching fire.

Extinguisher?

Oh, no, thank you.

I think we'd better let it run its course.

I was just thinking, uh,

Norway is not very east, is it?

No, I should have said, "When I was out north."

Yes, sir. Are there many fires in Norway?

Oh, good Lord, yes.

The place is a constant blaze.

Wooden buildings, do you know.

Yes. Mmm.

No, I lost my wife in Norway.

Oh, I am sorry to hear that.

Why, did you know her?

No. No, I don't.

Oh, she wasn't a favorite of mine.

No, we were out strolling across a fjord one day when one of the local matadors came out of his tree house and flung a load of old scimitars and guillotines out that he'd got cluttering up his wine cellar.

And apparently, a rather large proportion of them landed on my wife, causing her to, uh, snuff it without much more ado.

Yes, yes, well, look.

[PA CHIMES]

WOMAN [ON PA]: Here is an important announcement

about Michael Ellis.

It is now the end of Michael Ellis week.

From now on, it is Chris Quinn week.

What a rotten ending.

Well, it is one of our cheapest, sir.

Well, what else have you got?

Well, there's the long, slow pullout, sir.

You know, the camera tracks back and back and you mix.

[CHIMES RINGING]

No, no, no. Have you got anything more exciting?

Well, how about a chase?

There he is!

[♪]

Oh, no, no, no.

Walking into the sunset?

What's that one?

You know, two lone figures silhouetted against the dying rays of the setting sun.

[♪]

The, uh-- The music swells, you've got a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye.

Oh, no.

Pity, I rather like that one.

They're all a bit off the point, you see?

Well, there is one that ties up the whole Michael Ellis thing, but, um...

But what?

Oh, no, nothing, nothing.

Who is Michael Ellis?

How about a happy ending, sir?

Chris! Thank God you're safe.

No, you wouldn't want that, would you?

Why wouldn't I want that?

Uh, what about summing up from the panel? That's cheap. What?

You know, the, uh, big match experts.

I think that it was quite a good show, isn't it?

I think that the, uh--

The Michael Ellis character was a-- A little overdone.

Well, I don't agree with that, Malcolm.

Uh, quite frankly, the only bit I liked was this bit with me in it, now.

No?

Slow fade?

No.

Well, uh, how about a sudden ending?