All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s12e03

Good evening. It's pure joy to be back
with you once again, isn't it, Ross?

Indeed it is. And in a packed programme
tonight, we shall be showing you the new

Mafia scarecrow.

It's so terrifying, not only do the
birds not take any seed, they bring back

seed they took last year.

And we'll be out and about with the
Bishop of Bath and Wells to see him

consecrate a swimming pool, bless three
wells, confirm a bidet and christen a

low -level suite.

In the High Court today, a man
complained of a noise made by an amorous

in the flat above.

Each evening, they'd sing the red flag,
then eat supper and have fun on the sofa

and take a very naughty bath together.

So every night, it was hammer and
tickle, cheese and pickle, slap and

bubble and squeak.

Complaints. Complaints were made
following the annual chef's fancy dress

last night.

A woman dressed only in gooseberries and
cream made an improper suggestion to a

man dressed in cake and cherry.

She made a proper fool of herself and he
got a trifle excited.

Mr. Osbert Grove, Britain's worst
postman, who claims he was wrongfully

dismissed by the GPO, today delivered a
petition to the Queen at 19 Riversdale

Road, Ashton -under -Lyne.

Finally, Rolo Belch, Britain's most
bilious man, suffered a major setback

in his bid to sue the old Istanbul
Donner Kebab House.

His stomach settled out of court.

And now a sketch featuring Mr Ronnie
Corbett in the role of a schoolboy with

short legs who learns to play the cello.
Signs out.

No, this is 63 Puddle Duck Lane.

Well, that's near enough.

I've got this parcel here for Mr.

J -O -N -E -S.

Mr. J -O -N... Oh, that's me, Robinson.

It's me.

Have you got any identification on you,
like some of your dress you like?

Well, of course I have.

That. Oh, yeah, that's good enough.

You go in and I'll knock.

I can't get in, it's locked.

Oh, well, you knock.

Well, I don't think anyone will answer.
Why not?

Because I live on my own.

Don't you have a key?

Well, of course I've got a key, but it
don't fit. Why don't it fit?

Well, if I lost it, anyone could get in,
wouldn't they? Oh, yeah.

You're no fool, are you? No, of course
I'm not.

Well, listen, I'm going to sit down
here, and while we're waiting, I'm going

twiddle my thumb.

Oh, really? The missus always does mine.

My toes did half ache.

I think I've got me shoes on the wrong
feet.

Well, those be early on, then.

You know he's in London.

Meant to ask you something. Was it you
or your missus was knocked down by a bus

the other day?

When was that?

Tuesday, wasn't it? Oh, that'll be the
missus.

Where were you?

I was driving the bus.

Do you miss her? I did Monday. I ran out
of petrol.

last night. No.

Oh, that's funny. Your voice usually
travels from oil.

Yeah.

What are you laughing at in that paper?

I don't know. I can't read.

I can't give it here.

Oh, look. It says, Vicar posed as duck
in blue movies with girl guides.

You never read that.

You're a friend of the Vicar's.

No, he says here, the vicar has three
previous convictions and the duck has

Terrible thing happened to my brother,
you know, on his wedding night. Oh?

not actually him, to his bride.

They locked her in the bathroom and
dressed the duck up in all the bridal

Oh, did he notice?

Not to the following Easter, no.

He gave her an egg and she sat in it.

Yeah, well, I can sympathise with her
because I'm short -sighted.

Can you see that cow there?

What, the near cow or the far cow? The
near one. No.

I can't even see as far as me glasses.

I tell you what, I've always wondered
this.

Is Englebert Humperdinck his real name?

Is Englebert Humperdinck whose real
name?

Tom Jones.

Probably, very probably, yeah. Oh, yeah.

Listen, what is the postage on that?

Well, you see, it's according to the
weight. Yeah. And that being like in

is minus 12p.

What shape is that?

Well, it don't say on it.

Looks like one half a Dolly Parton to
me.

Which half?

The small half.

Well, I'm going to tear it now. Here you
are. You better have that.

Your shoes are bad. You ought to take
them up the wasp name.

Cobblers. Well, that's nice, isn't it?
I'm only trying to help.

...with another of his own compositions,
Why Can't It Wait Till Morning? Ladies

and gentlemen, Bill Collins.

Why can't it wait till morning?

We talked about it then.

Because I've had a drink too many.

And my troubles, well, I ain't got any.

Why can't...

Till daylight.

Things seem much clearer there.

I'm tired and my eyes are weary.

And I just want you like.

Because I just want to hold you so close
to me.

It'll take care of itself.

And I want to sleep so I can't wait

till.

Hello, Dudley.

How's it going?

Why? What's the matter with it?

What's the matter with it?

I found it.

Found it? Where then?

In a tobacconist. Someone must have
dropped it on the carter.

That's criminal, that is.

Well, only if you get caught.

Nothing wrong with crime, is there? I
mean, look at Robin Hood, eh?

I mean, he was a hero. We never stopped
robbing people.

Well, yeah, but he only robbed the rich.

Yeah, you know why, don't you?

Why? Well, because the poor ain't got
any money.

Any crime in your family at all, doesn't
he, I mean?

Oh, yeah, my sister.

She's a stripper.

Well, that's not a crime, is it? Taking
your clothes off.

Oh, no, she don't take a...

Clothes off? She goes up on her ruse and
takes the lead off.

My brother was up before the beat once,
you know, for lighting fireworks in the

street.

Selling him, was he, eh? Yeah, yeah,
yeah. Right.

I know what to do with you, my man, said
the judge. I shall make the punishment

fit the crime, he says.

I'm going to do to you what you done to
them fireworks, he says.

Well, what do you do then?

He let him off.

Welcome

to

another edition of Speak Off.

Speak off!

Speak off!

Come, you've got to come out because,
because, because, because.

G'day.

Hello there.

We have a lovely afternoon.

It's true.

Good gracious.

The sun is tight, crook.

These sandwiches have an odd flavour.

I think I'm going to chander.

I think I'm going to go walk a boat.

Yes, this is the programme designed to
familiarise you new Australians with the

language of your adoptive country.

This week we are going to look at a
linguistic phenomenon known as Wagga

Double Talk.

This can be heard not only in Wagga
Wagga, but in townships as far apart as

Ulladulla, Bindi Bindi, Kurikuri and
Turramurra near Sydney -Whidney.

Its originator appears to have been a
German immigrant by the name of Wilhelm

Nilhelm. Or Willy Nilly.

and later died in Pago Pago of Berry
Berry.

In Wagga Wagga Double Talk, the last
word of every sentence is either

or rhymed. A typical greeting,
therefore, will be, G'day, Ray.

Similarly, you will hear, What's on the
TV, Steve?

TV being television.

Or give us a bail mail, a bail being a
telephone call.

Now, a racetrack becomes a horse course,
and the horse, of course, JJ.

the racing and a barbecue, you can have
a dabby barbie.

The natives of that fair town will
proudly point out a wogger jogger, a

grogger, and, of course, a wogger
wagger.

Likewise, a woggen wagon and a wagon
wogan.

If, however, you walk, being English,
you will hear the cry, going for a prom,

pom.

Or if there are two of you, pom -pom. Or
three, and the one in the middle's

drunk, pom -tiddly -pom -pom.

Now we finish with a clip from the new
Australian film directed by and starring

two of Wagga Wagga's favourite stars,
Kevin Levin and Beryl Merrill, spoken

throughout in their native dialect.

Recently premiered overseas in Hong
Kong, Walla Walla, Sing Sing and Mill

In this scene, we see the local flock
doc, or sheep doctor, a man who earns a

dinkum -inkum, a good salary, Returning
home. The film is presented with English

subtitles.

Well, well.

Some slum.

Duct, rough, peeling, peeling.

Your crummy mummy is a tawdry old...

You pong as strong as a boomer's
bloomer.

Oh, hell's bells.

Another pommy consomme.

Oh, that tastes worse than a kiwi's wee
-wee.

Look, I've got a right to some paka
-taka.

Hot pot, roly -poly, couscous, paw.

I'm a silly bully.

Look, let's say we go downtown.

We could go and see the local Amdram.

They're doing Floradora.

No go.

All right, then. How about coming up on
the Zed bed for a little anky -panky?

Finally, a word of reassurance.

If you do settle in Wagga Wagga, certain
English expressions are not only

permissible, they are actually welcome.
These include tut -tut, pip -pip, wakey

-wakey, coochie -coochie, chin -chin,
here -here, and you -who. Bye -bye.

Good morning, Master Shakespeare.

Hello, Miltman.

How fair is thy goodly self this many a
day?

Wish you'd speak the flaming Queen's
English.

Quite the gold chop, please.

You don't sound very happy, sir.

Something wrong with your latest play?

You're not wrong there, sunshine.

I'll be right two and eight over it, I
tell you that.

Might I, by chance, take an itsy -bitsy
gander?

By all means, yes. You have a little
butcher's there. Have a look.

Oh.

What do we know?

No, we don't like it. What do you mean?
No, no. Would it not be a shade better

to say, now is the winter of our
discontent, made glorious summer by this

York. Well, that's all a bit fancy,
isn't it, eh?

On top of that, it wasn't about what I
writ there, you know.

Runny cold, I said to York, he think
I'll have a week in talking.

That's all right, isn't it?

Rhymes, if you say it quick.

Relax a certain magic, sir.

Listen, I'll tell you what, I was
working on another piece the other day.

get you to have a look at this, see what
you think of that, see your opinion of

that.

Carry on, Othello. Good title, don't you
think?

He lacks class. I mean, the main
character, Othello, does he have to be a

bookie's runner?

No, no, no.

Could be a pork butcher or something
like that?

Social worker? No, I fear you've missed
the point entirely, sir. No, no. He

should be a romantic. A romantic, a
soldier, perchance.

Well, what do you mean, Sergeant Major
Othello in charge of the cookhouse,

something like that?

Well, if you want to make it more avant
-garde, he could be coloured.

That's a good idea, good idea. Change
the title.

Chocolate Soldier, we could call it.

A bit of a joke there, as a matter of
fact. A joke?

Yes, a bit of a joke, a bit of a gag,
you see. Someone in the audience would

shout, sing us a bit from the Chocolate
Soldier, you see. Then Othello could

say, which bit?

And the lady would shout back, the bit
with the nuts in.

Well, in Hamlet, you see.

Then you put them in a pair of loose
tights, you know, just to give it more

point. Yes, I must say, yes.

It needs a little soups en sec
somewhere.

What do you mean, soups en sec? Have a
look at that.

Mrs Othello, Gladys, near Ponsford,
married 27 years, 11 children, 12th on

way. I mean, I think you've got to admit
that in the How's Your Father

department, Othello was quite tasty.

Well, far be it from me to criticise the
great William Shakespeare, but it

certainly doesn't take one's pulses
racing.

Oh. Perhaps I should go back to selling
insurance.

What do you think? Oh, pox on that, sir.
It would be a crime indeed to deprive

the world of the majesty of your great
work.

There's another thing I was working on
the other day.

Have a butcher's at that. See what you
think. Oh, Julius Caesar.

Yes.

Don't like it, do you?

You don't like it until I can tell.

Well, what would you have written?

Well, I would have written something
like, Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend

your ears.

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise
him.

Well, that's a bit poncy, isn't it?

I mean, look.

Look, we better plant Caesar before very
long. It's a very hot day and he's

starting to pong.

I mean,

goodness. Listen, anyway, I can't rabbit
away here. I've got a motor on with

this. I've got a deadline here for
Saturday.

Richard the 111th.

What seems to be the problem with that
one? Well, I'm stuck right at the end,

you see. He's just finished the battle,
Richard, you see. He's all in his jack.

He's just standing there.

He's trying to call for help, you see.
Call him basically for help and I can

think of nothing worth his pay. Well,
much as I would like to stay and proper

assistance, I fear my milk round is
still very long and all on foot.

How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable
seem to me all the uses of this world.

You ought to get the corpse to give you
some transport.

If only.

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for all.

That is it.

That is it. That is what Richard would
say at the battlefield.

That is it.

I fought so hard, me leg's gone wonky.
Will somebody fetch me a bleeding

You know what gets to me, Jevon?

It's the quiet.

The slow, relentless quiet.

Churning away.

Heating at your mind hour after hour,
never knowing if Jerry's down there.

Waiting.

Slow, unending quiet, crushing your
will.

Breaking your soul.

Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep,
cheep, cheep, cheep.

Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep,
cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep, cheep,

cheep.

Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep,
cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep, cheep,

cheep. Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep.
Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep.

Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep,
cheep, cheep, cheep.

Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep,
cheep, cheep, cheep. Cheep, cheep,

cheep. Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep,
cheep.

Cheep,

cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep.

Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep

Was it slightly out of key? What? Was it
slightly out of key? No, it was not.

If it wasn't the wrong tune, sir, and it
wasn't out of key, sir, why did you not

like it, sir? What did he... What did
he... Just don't do it, that's all.

Sorry, sir. Sorry, I was only trying to
help, sir. Well, don't.

God, it's quiet.

Listen to that. Do you hear that?

Not a sound.

Just the knowledge that somewhere, down
there, Jerry's sitting it out, waiting

for us to make a move, to make a
mistake.

I can't stand it. Not a sound, not a
whisper, relentless, eating at every

I can't stand it!

It's a ship, not an aviary.

Why do you think so?

I thought it might relieve the tension.
Well, it doesn't.

Bad enough having Jerry down there
without a midshipman who thinks he's a

sparrow. It's the same family.

No, sir. Not, sir. No, not really. The
sparrow is much more... Shut up, Jerry!

It's so damn quiet.

Not a sound, not a whisper, just this
damn, damn silence clawing at your brain

day after day.

God, I don't know how much more of this
I could take.

I really don't.

How much more I could take before I
crack.

Are you all right, sir?

Never felt better in my life.

What do you make of it? Sounds

to me...

Why would a chicken go to sea?

I don't know why would a chicken go to
sea.

I'm not joking. I'm not telling a joke.

I'm not telling a joke. I'm not telling
a joke. I'm not telling a joke. I'm not

telling a joke. I'm not telling a joke.
I'm not telling a joke.

I'm not telling a joke. I'm not telling
a joke. I'm not telling a joke. I'm not

telling a joke. I'm not telling a joke.
I'm not telling a joke. I'm not telling

a joke. I'm not telling a joke. I'm not
telling a joke.

I'm not telling a joke.

I'm not telling a joke.

I'm not telling a joke.

A singing rat does chicken impressions.

Oh, I think it's a smelly rat. It's a
trickly angle, and there's a floating.

It's not a singing rat to do chicken
impressions to fool us.

Oh, you're right, Henry. We must leave
the area at once before we are

discovered.

I think the danger is approaching.

Whatever it is, Jevons, we've got to
face it.

Like men.

Yes, sir.

Here is a very funny story, which got
very big laughs when I told it last year

in Las Vegas.

So I'd like to... No,

I say Las Vegas. It wasn't actually in
Las Vegas, obviously.

More, you know, sort of outside Las
Vegas.

Islington, actually.

Incidentally, I'd like to say that it
hasn't changed me at all. No, it has

Oh, no, it was very easy. That's because
I've now topped the bill at the

Islington Derby and Joan Club's annual
dinner and break dance.

To get all starry and big time, but that
is not my style. I shall still be there

in person next week when the Ronnie
Corbett Fan Club holds its annual rally

Trafalgar Square, or if wet, in a diving
suit.

By the way, before I go any further, I
have promised to dedicate this joke

tonight to our executive producer, a
very distinguished and senior man here

the BBC, and tipped by some to get a car
parking space in Michael Gradesworth,

the Honourable.

My goodness.

My goodness, there is a man who's come a
long way since he started out in this

business as a roadie for Tubby the
Tuber.

I met him for lunch today up in the BBC
self -service canteen where there was a

bit of a hiatus.

All the craze had come to a standstill
due to a points failure at Gooseberry

Crumble.

And over by the bar, over by the bar,
there was a bit of a celebration going

In fact, I think some of the stagehands
have got a bit carried away because...

when I arrived, Helena Scott was being
dusted for fingerprints.

Apparently, apparently the grape was
flowing because one of the BBC

had just become a father, funnily
enough, you know, tonight at the

The baby was said to be fine with
occasional drizzle later in the day.

Which reminds me, which reminds me, a
little wave, if I may, to my wife and

mother of my children, in case either of
them is looking in.

That's just a little joke to cheer her
up.

She is rather on edge tonight, my wife,
because she has just finished writing

her first ever romantic novel due to be
published tomorrow. An amazing

achievement, really. 800 sizzling pages
of love, lust and raw passion.

Which started out as a note to the
milkman.

Last night we invited a few media people
around for dinner,

you know, to launch it.

evening which got off to a bad start
when Janet Street Porter wandered into

kitchen and the waste disposal unit went
for her.

I must tell you this joke, which is
about two chaps who one day decide to

rather an unusual bet. And talking of
unusual bets, I was reminded of this

funnily enough, by a local vicar who had
just been into William Hills to put a

Yankee on the Four Horsemen of the
Apocalypse.

He was telling me... Oh, you died. Joke
there.

Too... Too... Oh, you died. And he
was... Certainly for me. Anyway, he was

telling me... He was... I'm rocking
about quite a lot tonight. He was

that he has been having a lot of trouble
with his health, that is, the vicar,

you know, lately.

Grumbling appendix. Strangely enough,
when I went into my hospital to have my

appendix out, I had a terrible time of
it. You know, it was one of those

operating theatres with a gallery of
medical students looking on, you know.

I was booed off halfway through the
operation.

To a slow hand clap and cries of, bring
back the tonsillectomy.

I knew I should never have gone in there
because it was one of those trendy

progressive hospitals, you know. If your
child gets a saucepan stuck in his

head, they send around three
psychiatrists with saucepans on their

relate to the experience.

And if a patient's temperature is up, a
Catholic priest with a megaphone tries

to talk it down.

I digress.

And when we return, at last, the story
of these two chaps who one day go to the

cinema to see a John Wayne film.

I can't remember which one.

I think it was the one, you know, in
which he played a cowboy.

But before they go in, the first chap
turns to his friend and he says, here,

said, I'm going to bet you ten pounds
that at the end of this film, John Wayne

falls off his horse.

The other chap says, all right, he says,
I bet you ten pounds at the end of the

film that John Wayne doesn't fall off
his horse. So the bet is agreed. In they

go. And sure enough, at the end of the
film, John Wayne, having cleaned up the

Wild West with one hand, anxious to get
as far away as possible before Pearl and

Dean come on, leaps onto his trusty
steed and, flat, falls off the horse

right on his face.

Out come the two chaps. The first one
pockets the tenner. He said, there.

He said, here. He said, I must be
honest.

He said, I've seen that film before and
I knew he fell off his horse.

And his friend said, yes. He said, I've
got to be honest too. He said, I've seen

it before as well. But I didn't think
the silly fool would do it again.

We'll be back tomorrow night. Daisy,

Daisy, standing behind the bar.

You're quite hazy after my 40th job.

It's a bit of an hocus -pocus to get you
into focus.

Your sweater just goes in and out like a
jelly mold built for two.

Georgie Porgie's nearly as drunk as me.

He's had four... I've had 23.

But in spite of his fuller figure, my
capacity's much bigger.

My hollow legs are like two kegs, and
I'm feeling my wellies too.

Sitting and looking at all the birds
helps to pass the time.

And some are really sublime. And we
tempt them all with

liquor of every sort.

All I can offer is old and stout. With
me they get something short.

If this was the only pub in the world, I
still wouldn't eat their pies.

Nothing could be lousier than the food
in here.

It's so bad it nearly puts you off your
beer.

If you have the ploughman's lunch, I
swear, it tastes just like mud and

Picked a pie up and broke me fingernail.
The cook here got the sack from British

Rail. If this was the only pub in the
world, we'd eat at the vet's next door.

Still, the drink is really good.

Like they lot the folks here. Funny lot
of jokes here.

Mild and bitter from the woot.

Finest in the old Kent Road. You're
blimey, fine.

It's in the old Kent Road.

Mine's a pint of brown.

A pint of stuff in town.

Spent the rent, but what the heck. Get
the nectar down your neck. Keep your

pecker up, lads, or life will ground you
down.

Let's not ease up. Let's have an ease
up. Mine's a pint of brown. Any old

any old time. I'll drink any old time
now and then. Same again. You keep

and I won't say when. Half past ten.
Gentlemen, it's way past closing time.

With a little bit of shot, I'll be back
for more next time. Next time.

Thank you.

Somebody's at my...

Even now, I can't believe it happened.

My

name

is Professor Martin Cratermouse.

The Institute of Interplanetary Research
set up in 1950...

to photograph the dark side of Patrick
Moore.

I was in my laboratory pondering the
question, if space is infinite, why can

never find somewhere to park?

And I was joined by my lab assistant,
Miss Dibley. Have you seen my

parapeticles? Yes, they're very, very
nice indeed.

By the way, do you know you left your
glasses behind?

Thanks.

Professor Cratermouse.

Martin.

There's something I've got to say to
you. My God, look at that.

It's something I've been meaning to say
for a very long time.

I just don't believe this.

You see, Martin, I can't disguise my
feelings for you any longer.

It's terrible. It's awful. It's
absolutely diabolical.

Oh, will you stop reading the small
print in that insurance policy and

me?

Sorry.

Did you say something?

Yes.

I said I... Which one of you is Mr.
Martin Cratermouse?

What do you want?

Sergeant Gadget, Scotland Yard.

We've just found something up the
allotments, Professor.

Something not of this earth.

I'll be right with you. This

is

Mrs. Froscott.

who made the discovery.

We'd better cordon off, just to be safe.

What's he found?

Well,

it is my belief, Sergeant, that this is
no ordinary cauliflower.

Good God.

Green.

Idiot.

It's got a worm up its nose.

Reminds me a wee bit of an air hostess
that used to work.

I think he's coming round.

Perhaps he's hungry.

Try a banana.

See if he takes that.

This.

Never easy.

Have to do some further examinations,
I'm afraid.

Would you mind bringing over the x -ray
scanner?

Thank you. Certainly, Professor.

if he's not alone.

Even as we speak, there could be a whole
host of hostile extraterrestrials

waging up there to swoop down and lay us
low.

I'm ready.

sure the sodium pentothal will keep him
under?

Well, if it doesn't, we'll just have
to...

And all international forces, east and
west, have been placed on full military

alert. If this is the end of the world
as we know it, I want to tell you I love

you, Martin.

Stop this dibbly.

Beverly.

the new miracle space age lavatory
cleanser. The tech is just out of the

Any germs lurking under the rim, we'll
wipe them all out. And the seedings are

astronomical with, my God, Horace.

Horace? There it is.

Oh, my poor head.

You never did, Horace. When you fell out
of the helicopter yesterday, my God, I

thought... Helicopter? I don't know
what's been happening to me the last 24

hours. I think I've been delirious.

You mean you're both not... from another
planet?

No, Cricklewood, but you're close.

Oh,

I've got a terrible head.

I don't know if it's a good eye, though.

You must understand it's a mistake
anyone could have made, Sergeant.

You've made me look a right twit,
Cranston House.

I'll kill you.

There's no need to. A little compassion,
please.

I deserved it.

Green -skinned aliens from outer space.

It's beautiful science fiction.

It'll never happen in my life.

isn't it, Ronnie? But before we go, a
few late items of news.

Yes, lawyers confirmed tonight that
Sheikh Haroum El Ram is being sued for

divorce by his 500 wives.

Apparently they came home early and
caught him with 500 other women.

An interesting world record was set
today when the man who cuts the grass at

Heathrow got caught in the undercarriage
of a departing jumbo. He became the

first man to mow the Atlantic.

Thieves broke into the National Art
Gallery in New York today. Police sealed

all the exits, whereupon the thieves
escaped through all the entrances.

And news, news of a major breakthrough
in the fight against insomnia.

You can now get crossroads in pill form.

Finally, we've just heard wonderful news
from Whipsnade. The panda, which has

developed a liking for music, has mated
with the head keeper's harmonium.

Experts say this may create a
pandemonium.

Next week, we'll be bringing you a
sensational veteran circus act. The

Zolder will fire a pistol and his wife,
Zenita, will catch the bullet in her

teeth, which will be in a glass on top
of her head.

We'll be talking to the Hertfordshire
parson who's accused of misconduct with

his housekeeper after they found his
vest in her pantry and her pants in his

vestry.

Good night from me. And it's a very good
night from him. Good night.