Original subtitles

Like another drink, Toddy.

I'd love one, Henry.

Well, I'll ring the batman. Good girl.

It's the Benny Hill Show.

And here is Benny Hill.

Now known as Capper Dan, the lady killer man.

And those that I don't kill a wound a bit.

I run a fancy car. I call it the Mayflower on account of all the Puritans

come across in it.

Now to 20 -year -old Pam up to the wooden ear bolt her damn part in the car

that she'd know what to do.

I said, get in the back now, Pam. She said, what the hell do you think I am? I

want to stay on the front seat here with you.

Whoa, give me an older woman every time, every time. Give me an older woman

every time.

Because they don't yell and they don't tell. I know they're dreadful as hell,

give me an older woman every time.

Now, the day my Uncle Joe married my Aunt Flo, he was 44 and she was 69.

That night as I lay on my bed, I heard every word they said. I couldn't help

because their room was next to mine.

He said, how about it, dear? She pretended not to hear. He begged and

till his voice was hoarse and deep.

He said, oh, how about it, Flo? She said, how about what, Joe? He said, oh,

pocket is in a pair of kittens asleep.

Oh, give me an older woman every time, every time. Oh, give me an older woman

every time.

Because they don't yell and they don't tell, and who's that grateful as hell?

give me an older woman every time.

I said,

how bad has been a whoopee? She said, over my dead body. I said, Maureen, gal,

you haven't changed a bit.

Oh, give me an older woman every time, every time. Give me an older woman every

time. Cause they don't yell and they don't tell and those that grateful as

still give me an older woman every time.

Now, when I was just a boy, I took a little gal called Joy down to the meadow

and we lay down by a hedge.

I said, do you know, my pretty little squaw, what your lovely lips are for?

said, to stop my mouth from fraying round the edge.

Now, I tell you, Ma, I'm 53, but you know, she still suits me, though of

hearing it really ain't so hot.

But at night, as I lay on my bed, I put my lips up close to her head, and I say,

when are you going to sleep for a walk? And he says, what?

So give me an older woman every time, every time. Give me an older woman every

time. Because they don't yell and they don't tell, and oh, they're grateful as

hell. So give me an older woman, a real hot -blooded woman, a right -wing bitchy

woman. Give me an older woman every time.

On the south coast of England, just a few short miles from Ferguson, the

enterprising face of industry's private sector has manifested itself.

Impatient with administrative delays, one of our best -known northern

entrepreneurs has pushed the boat up and is going ahead with his own channel

tunnel. What? One shot?

You won't stop?

Thought you said you were one shot.

The man behind it all, Mr. Fred Scuttle. Good evening, viewers, and welcome...

Tell me, Mr. Scuttle.

How long have you been at it?

How long have I been at what, sir?

How long have you been in this whole boring business?

Very interesting, sir.

A whole boring business, sir. I'm very sorry, sir.

I didn't get the infection of your nuances, did I there, sir? No.

We have been digging, sir, actually physically digging, sir, for the last

weeks. Have you been subsidised?

No, sir, no.

I haven't, sir, no.

What about some of the lads, you know?

I haven't inquired, sir.

There's no skin off my nose one way or the other.

We don't cry, you see, sir. We don't cry.

When did you implement your recruitment programme?

Sir?

Get staffed.

Months ago, sir. Months ago.

And I've got the best, sir. You've heard of the lump?

I've got the dollop.

Little Willie Lee doesn't know the meaning of the word fear. Doesn't know

meaning of the word claustrophobia, sir.

Doesn't know the meaning of the word hazardous.

Why is that? He's Chinese.

The little fella that went out just now, Atlas Charlie.

Atlas? Never wears up.

It's for the selfies, you see. He collects them. He's got the biggest

of seashells on the seashore in England.

I didn't think much of his muscles.

You haven't seen his cockles, have you?

How many are there in your consortium?

At any given moment, once, sir.

When they are sitting.

You see, sir, I don't think lunchtime will be empty now, sir.

You know that you are content, sir.

Is there a newspaper behind you?

Yes, yes, sir. It's the Sunday Times.

No, I tell a lie, sir. It's the Melody Maker.

I get them modelled up. They're so similar, you see.

consortium, sir.

That's the only time my lads will read anything.

That's why they're so misinformed, you see. They never get the complete story.

How much is this tunnel going to cost? May I be frank, sir? If you wish. I'll

honest if you'd rather.

All right, sir.

Give or take a pee.

£726 .50.

Is that a conservative estimate? The same one I showed to Harold Wilson.

He could have had the glory of this, sir.

I showed Barbara Castle my manifesto in front of witnesses.

She turned her back on me, sir.

That was taking a jump.

We was going to have... We was going to have Sir Alec

Douglas Holm down here to turn the first sod over.

Sir Alec Douglas Hume. Did he arrive?

No, sir, he was ill in bed.

With Flo.

I mean, it's all right, they're ignoring us, but they're not in reality, sir,

because outside they've got a navy, one of them tote things, they're spying on

us. They've got a navy, they've got one of them out there.

Frigate. Quite right, sir.

But nevertheless, sir, in seven weeks' time, we shall have our gala opening,

sir.

are going to cycle four abreast. That's too deep.

And it's very wide, you see, sir.

Right the way across, and they'll come up there, sir. Yes, sir. They'll come up

in France?

Yes, possibly, sir.

But do you really think that you can dig this tunnel in seven weeks? I have

implemented, sir, a new and novel incentive scheme.

What's that?

I pay them in francs.

We have actually made a film of your men at work, and I'm sure the viewers would

like to see what can be done with British grit.

And W -O -O -M -E.

Yes. No, no, no, Henry, no, no. I am quite certain it is W -H -W -O

-M, womb.

Oh, sir. Excuse me, sir.

The way to spell womb is W -O -M -B, womb.

You know something, Robert?

I'm bloody sure that girl's never even heard an elephant with the wind.

Now, here's where the... Now, he's got to ask him to relax and stop trying to

fight the flower.

Because the young 'uns are going to take the floor.

I hope they bring it back when they've done that.

Because we want to find out who becomes winner of the quick -step competition.

All waiting for the result here with bated breath.

I always bait me breath when I'm fishing for confidence.

And here we are. The judges have come up with the winners, finally.

Anyway, I'm going to keep you in suspenders just a little bit longer.

And I'm going to read them out, the first three, in reverse order, you see.

You understand what I mean? I'm going to... Right.

Now, the third ones are Fred and Leslie Wilcox from Penge.

They're coming in with the twinkling toes and a Ted and Tina tingle from

Tuesday.

There we are.

And now it's the moment that you've all been waiting for. The winners of

this all -winners competition.

And here they are.

It's Gene and John Thomas.

Fred Bugle and the orchestra playing us out with I'll Be Seeing Ya in all the

places.

And the balloons cascading down.

Cascading down over there, this glamorous pair with the dancers who are

and everything.

I'll say goodnight to you.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm delighted to welcome to the show the one and only Ann

Shelton.

You put your hand in the hand of the man who still the water.

You put your hand in the hand of the man who call.

Thank you.

Thank you.

should be you put your hand in the hand of the man who still the water

you put your hand in the hand of the man

Before I read...

You put your hand in the hand of the man who calleth thee.

Take a look at yourself and you can look at others differently.

Put your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.

You put your hand in the hand of the man who filled the water. Yes, he did.

You put your hand in...

you're good in your

Once again, we present Departure Live, where people who are leaving this

country, sometimes for very personal reasons, sometimes for good, tell us

Miss Andre Melly.

There can't be many people viewing this evening who don't know the name Mervyn

Cruddy.

Pilloried in the press, shunned by society, he has been obliged to leave

country. But how is it that a man, young, intelligent... good -looking and

talented, finds himself in this position.

Well, it's a bit sordid.

That's all right, I understand.

Well, you see, it all started for me about five years ago. I remember it

well because it was the day after my 21st birthday party.

And me and my friend Mark, who's a very kind, considerate and warm -hearted

property developer,

We went for a stroll up in Soho. All we wanted was a breath of fresh air. I

mean, it was all quite innocent.

What time was this? Three o 'clock in the morning.

We passed an establishment called the Sexy Erotica Playgirl Club.

A blonde stood in the doorway with heavily massacred eyeballs.

A low -cut blouse barely concealing her ample portions.

Ample proportions.

All those sailors she quilped.

loving girl.

The thing you know is you have a cup of tea and perhaps a Manchester tart.

And perhaps a quick 50 up on the dartboard.

Me and my friends went inside, but inside it was like identity and

It was like the Tower of Barbell. It was like that film about...

She was carrying a whip and wore a fireman's helmet, bus driver's overcoat,

driver's gloves, a rubber body belt,

and

clogs.

She asked me if I was interested in a special service.

What did you say? I said I wasn't very religious.

It was then that you met this musician, Sarah.

Yes, she had arrived to take part in an all -night jam session, and I helped her

unpack her cello.

I sat there watching her all night, absolutely enthralled. She played it

-saddle.

I thought that was very courageous.

Without spurs.

That's how it all started.

One night...

I went to a party. It was a surprise party.

Well, it was for me anyway.

It was given by the second banjo player of the London Symphony Orchestra.

My head, dizzy with champagne and ruby -type Algerian South African port -style

empire wine, I inadvertently and rather foolishly fondled one of Ivy Benton's.

One of Ivy Benton's? Musicians.

The trombone player. I'd never been close to a trombone player before. I

it's not like a trumpet player or a French horn.

They have bigger ombre shirts.

Perhaps that's got something to do with it.

I just knew that from that moment on I was going to be creepy.

A croupier? A groupie!

A groupie? Well, isn't that someone who offers their favours to pop stars?

Yes, I just couldn't help myself. They used to draw me just like a maggot.

I mean...

Well, you see, one night I went to see the uptight ladies' colliery band.

They were playing for the Chalfont and Giles, old -age pensioners, all -nude

limbo dance team.

I remember it very well because I had to lower the loo doors.

For some of them was getting in free.

Anyway, there I was outside the stage door of the Broadbent Hall.

with my ballpoint in my hand, when I was set upon by a gang of girls on

motorbikes, all wearing leather gear. And they were like hooligans, they was.

They all come after me, and I was for the first time, and I hope that never

happens again, victim of angst.

A gangplank?

A gangbang!

You mean all these girls had their way with you?

All except the little fat one.

I didn't fancy her.

And after that, I like... I come back to town.

With your tail between your legs.

Where else?

It was then that you became...

Yes, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I became a call boy.

I'm not afraid of it.

I came from a home for unmarried fathers, remember.

I mean, at least... At least I was a high -class call boy.

You don't know what it's like. You don't know what it's like to be young and

attractive.

Every night I saw the stage door, there was waiting for me duchesses and

heiresses.

And lady TV producers with tempting offers.

looking at me and bearing me in mind.

And one of them was, of course, a member of the government.

That's quite right. The Minister for Underworld Affairs.

The Underminister for World Affairs.

Lady Porker.

Was there ever anything between you?

Not very often.

Then what happened?

Well, then you see, this chap from the Sunday newspaper got older than me.

And he wanted me to take sort of photographs of her and compromise in

and that, you know, with my Polaroid.

And to, like, take down everything what she said, like all the words she's

spoken at, you know. But surely it was your word against her.

No, no, you see, because he had furnished me with a miniature tape

what I had secreted about my person.

And so everything she said I got down, she couldn't argue against that, could

she?

And that escapade in the nudist cabin.

I showed him a thing or two there, didn't I?

I mean, I exposed everything.

See, I had to pretend to be one of them.

Not one of those.

I had to go along like a nudist and that. You had to be nude and everything.

I got it on every word she spoke.

But if you were nude, how did you record all those confessions of hers?

With great difficulty.

And not a little discomfiture.

But I hasten to add, we were never romantically attached. It was nothing

that. No, no, no.

We were only good friends. Only good friends. Now, I find that very hard to

believe. I mean, you are very attractive.

I know.

But just to say, whenever she got, like, a bit fruity or anything like that, you

know, I used to put a knockout drop in her cocoa. She used to go, spot her. How

much it like?

Didn't you feel guilty?

Only once.

When was that? When she asked for a second cup.

opinion so very much against you, you are having to leave the country.

That's quite right. I'm going to Spain.

How will you manage? I should be all right. You know, I've got the yacht and

villa that Lady Porker bought me, and the 40 ,000 quid I got from the

Won't you be lonely? I shouldn't think so. Are you ready, girls?

Come on, son. Here we are.

I hope the plane doesn't go without you. I shouldn't think so. I only bought it

this morning.

I say, drop your... Give it a kick. Get it started, will you? Off we go.

That... sad story of a boy who went wrong. I must say goodnight and cycle

to town.

Tea or coffee?

Tea!

nature.

Abba dabba dabba in monkey toss!

I won't dance. Why should I?

I won't dance. How could I?

I won't dance.

Merci beaucoup.

I know that music leads the way to romance.

I want to be loved by you. I want to be kissed by

you. Just you and nobody else with you.

I want to be kissed by you alone.

beat the world so

And let's begin.

Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep and doesn't know where to find

them. Leave them alone and they'll come home, bringing their tails

behind them.

There, children, that's a nursery rhyme. It's a story and it could, of course,

be told in many other ways.

cast your mind back to last february the 31st somewhere in this area here

several sheep were stolen now one of the gang was seen making his getaway in a

stolen car which he drove the wrong way up a one -way street and he tried to

squeeze between two oncoming juggernaut lorries completely on the lookout for a

tall thin cortina now would you look at this jumper here because the police have

a theory

Some of the sheep have already been shorn, and they're wool made up into

jumpers, which is produced by the Luptish Group of Switzerland. So if you

out anywhere, and you see a girl that you don't know very well, and you see

wearing one of these, just go up and do look inside for that label.

Now, if you see that label in there, what you must do is to limp along to

nearest phone box, and get it immediately to Inspector Blackhead and

Simple Lane.

Do you have pepper?

Yes, I have lost my sheep.

Where are the sheep?

We must look for the sheep.

Yes, we must look for the sheep.

Yes. Oh, look.

It's starting to rain.

What?

It's starting to rain.

We cannot look for the sheep in the rain.

What can we do in the rain?

For the yurkin.

Bye.

Oh, look at me.

It's starting to rain.

What? Yes, rain.

What?

Rain comes soon.

When rain comes, we cannot look and put the sheep in the rain.

For the year, kid.

We must look into it.

Nathan White.

Ockley Moor.

Yesterday, the home of some 2 ,000 sheep.

Today, a barren wasteland.

The owner of the sheep, Miss Peep, is battered, as indeed are the local

who have not ruled out foul play.

For the past 17 hours, two men, one of them the local switchboard attendant,

other the shepherd, who was in charge of them, have been helping the police with

their inquiries.

No, well, you see, he said to me, he said, two thousand cheap, you see.

Well, I thought he said two thousand and cheap.

stolen, sir. There's no doubt about that. I mean, they couldn't all have

the bog.

They grew.

We've had a search party out, and like I say, my sons, my seven sons and my six

daughters all joined in the search party to do their best. Because not only did

they get away with all them sheep, sir, but they also got away with the sheep

virility pills.

That's to make the sheep more, you know.

delicate. I'm sorry about that. I mean, it's like Aphrodite. Yeah, of course

they are. If you find them, do get in touch with us right away.

They're the size of a hasprin and they're yellow.

Oh, and they taste of peppermint.

I had an urgent desire to run.

I goes along and I find this ditch and I stand there and I start... All over a

piece of pot.

He said... He said... I said, hold on. I said, I've got a

lady up here. He said, what do you think I've got down here?

Here in the West Country, things move quickly these days.

And already, the barren sheep land is being taken over by a herd of cows.

Nathan Wide, News at Ten, Wesson.

she saw asleep.

Thus did they depart.

One of them a black sheep, whose fleece was black as soot, and whereso 'er the

black sheep went, his sooty footy foot.

The black sheep left the moor as slight as any else, and yet in truth he was as

black as any moor himself.

One frivolous lamb, a reckless beast, who took to gambling, and thus was

fleeced.

occasion to smack his chops.

One foolish sheep who near the village frolics.

A shepherd caught him by the home for alcoholics.

One queer sheep who although sad was gay and when air approached would turn

the other way.

His wool is spun into a yarn so

which I now spin.

Her father counseled her, pay them no mind, they will return, a bringing of

their tales behind.

But as the smallest of these lambs who sat upon the icy ground did cry in voice

so bold, so do I say to you, my tale is told.

Yeah, that's good.

Just helping the commissioner sort out a box of strawberries.

I think it's serious, Chief.

Oh, how do you spell that?

I can't say as I've heard of her.

She doesn't have many friends.

Well, that doesn't surprise me, I must say. Where is this girl at the moment?

She's outside in the corridor, Chief. Well, then why don't we have her in?

She's not in the state of shock. She doesn't seem to be acting in a rational

manner. You mean to tell me you think you're acting in a rational manner?

It is like some terrible, frightening dream. It was last Thursday. I was alone

in the meadow with my sheep, and this man came by. He had wide, staring eyes.

Oh, God, they said I hypnotized me.

He gave me a drink of water, and it tasted kind of strange, and suddenly the

whole world...

the watering them, feeding them.

Why don't we have that fella in that we brought in on a 747?

But he was just a bakery chief.

I want to see him, and I want to see him now, so bring him in.

That's him!

That's him!

But chief, how did you know it was him?

I had my suspicions the minute he told me his name. What's your name again,

Basil Bass.

Oh, I lost that years ago.

Good evening, Chief Armstrong.

Good evening, Luigi. Now tell me, what have you got for this young lady here?

have mutton broth, sheep's head soup, lamb chops, roast lamb,

and lamb cutlets.