All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s08e03.eng

It's wonderful to be back with you once
again, isn't it, Ronnie? Indeed it is.

And in a packed programme tonight, we
shall be meeting with the Irish

who specialises in stealing free
samples.

And in our new natural history feature,
we'll be having a look at amazing

wildlife footage of Italian birds
surrendering to a worm.

The news.

American singing star Dolly Parton was
tonight reported to have found the

favourite guitar she lost 20 years ago.

It was up her jumper.

Whilst the thundersly man who crossed
the Swiss cheese plant, a breadfruit

and an India rubber tree today had his
first crop of British rail sandwiches.

News tonight, too, that an Irish
scientist has crossed a homing pigeon

parrot and got a bird that keeps landing
and asking the way.

lying in a Soho gutter last night
wearing a latex wetsuit, wellingtons and

rubber gas mask was today found not
guilty of being drunk but fined £20 for

having less than the required depth of
tread.

And the Dorsetshire farmer whose chicken
laid a £28 egg held a champagne supper

last night. The chicken didn't attend as
it was still suffering from shell

shock.

And during redecoration at Brentford
Public Library today, high jumper

Farrington Bland accidentally sat on a
blow lamp and leapt straight into the

record books.

London's Heathrow Senior Customs Officer
Cephas Mumby retired today. He shook

hands with passengers passing through
the customs and confiscated a gold watch

for himself.

set on the Costa Smeralda, the Aga
Khan's private resort, which is so

that yesterday the tide went out and
they wouldn't let it back in.

Is this the Arnold Murray School of
Dancing? That's right, yes. Mr. Dribble?

Tibble? Oh, Tibble, yes.

I expected a much sort of bigger place.
Ah, you're thinking of the Arthur Murray

School of Dancing. This is the Arnold
Murray School of Dancing, you see. Much

smaller business, so we can be cheaper.
You understand?

Yes, yes. Now, you've come for your
first lesson, right? Yes. Am I early?

No, no, you're fine. Now, we usually
start with the waltz, you see, because

find that people pick that up fairly
easily. Could I just have your coat,

please? Thank you.

I'll look after that for you. There we
are.

Thank you. That's fine.

That's lovely.

Now, excuse me, are you going to teach
me? Oh, yes, yes, I'm actually Arnold

Murray, you see. Now, I'd like you to
put that on because I'm going to be the

one that's leading, all right? Oh, yes.
I want you to hold your hand up there.

Forward side together.

Forward side together. One, two, three,
one, two, three. Forward side together.

Forward side together. One, two, three,
one, two, three. Forward side together.

Forward side together.

Oh, thank you, Miss Higgins.

Barton, thank you. Do you mind if I
check the letters? I won't for the

Because you never know.

Excuse me, does she work here?

Yes, occasionally. She's my assistant.

Couldn't I dance with her?

I'm afraid not. It's impossible.

She's one of the untouchables. Oh, I
didn't know Negro girls were

Oh, this one isn't. Believe me, I've
tried.

You're a little tense there. I want you
to relax a little. Now, come along. One,

two, three. One, two, three. Oh, you're
so good to me. One, two, three. Oh,

you're so good to me.

I feel a bit silly. Yes, well, that's
because you look silly.

Don't worry about it. You'll soon get
used to it. I should have thought a chap

like you would have got used to it
already, really. Listen, have you ever

thought of bodybuilding? Why?

Well, I could swap over your dance
lesson fee. You see, I could swap it

the Arnold Murray Beef Building Fitness
Club. You've already paid your three

quid. Oh, yes, I sent the postal off.
Well, what do you think about it? I've

all the equipment.

Well, doesn't your assistant teach that?
I mean, she looks as though she's got

all the equipment.

No,

no, no, don't worry. I'm fully
qualified. I took a correspondence

weightlifting, yes. I hold the Golden
Trust.

I'll soon have you in shape.

Well, to be absolutely honest, that
shouldn't be my shape. You should have

me before.

Do you know I was once as tall as you?
Really? When was that? When I was 11.

Why don't you try this? Completely free.
Just lie down there. Do a few press

-ups. No obligation at all. That's it.
Keep a nice straight back.

Was that you? Oh, no.

What is it, Miss Higgintop?

Oh, Miss Brownlow. Thank you, Miss
Brownlow. You won't be a minute.

Come here, Miss Brownlow. Oh, hello.

Would you just pop behind the screen and
take your clothes off? Thank you very

much. That's it.

Hello.

Arnold Murray School of... Sorry.

Arnold Murray School of Art.

Arnold Murray Worldwide Book of the
Month Club.

Oh, yes, madam. Yes, yes. Well, there
are actually two publications concerned

with the cultivation of crops, yes.
One's mainly for gardeners. That's the

Weeders' Digest.

And the other one is really only for
farmers. Oh, that's the one you meant,

it? Yes, the Breeders' Digest.

No, I'm afraid there's no pictures, no.

Your husband wants to make sure he gets
his what?

Oh, his oats. Oats?

Only every three years. You see, you
must rotate.

You must rotate.

Well, I'll send the book on. If you're
not perfectly delighted in 14 days, we

retain the money. All right, goodbye.

Are you all right, Dennis?

Well, I'd sooner be doing the walks.
I'll work you a second.

Hello?

What is it, Miss Hotbottom?

Mr. Jesson is here. Oh, Mr. Jason. Mr.
Jason. Are you all right? Oh, yes, come

out, mister.

Now,

just sit there, would you? That's the
idea.

Now, then, how long have you had this
eye trouble?

Oh, about 300.

I'd like you just to read what you can
on this card, would you? There.

Starting with the big A, going on to the
X and the O. Am I too early? No, not at

all. What is it today?

Life class. Life class, of course it is.
How are you getting on? I can't see

from here. Well, get a bit nearer, dear.
Don't strain your eyes. Come on.

Now, you would help me if you just put
one arm up like that, would you? And one

arm there. That's it. And put your foot
up there.

That's it. How's that, Mr. Jason?
Perfect.

Oh, good.

Are you the vet?

Yes, I'm the vet, madam, yes.

I rang earlier.

There's something the matter with my
pom.

Oh, dear. Step behind the screen. I'll
have a look at it for you.

It's my dog. Oh. My Bomeranium. Yes.
Shall I bring him in? Yes, do bring him

would you?

Oh.

Yes. A step behind the screen. Take your
clothes off. I'll be with you in a

moment, my dear. Excuse me, I've got to
get back.

My wife's got a cake in the oven. Oh,
congratulations.

What are you hoping for?

Well, we're hoping for a sultana sponge.
That's what went in.

Do we just get in the hang of it?

Miss Brown, I wonder if you could come
over and just partner this gentleman for

me? That's it. Is this lady qualified?

Well, she certainly looks it to me, yes.

Not me. Oh, you, yes. Are you ready,
madam? Yes.

Now, what can I do for you, dear?

about the job as cleaning lady.

Yes, would you just come over here and
hold your handbag up there, my dear, up

there. Put your arm up there. Would you
put up there, dear, would you?

There we are. How's that, Mr... I think
you'd better have a bigger pad. There

you are.

Morning. Oh, hello, Mr Jones.

How's Lady Jones? Go and sit over there,
would you? Sit over by the chair.

That's it. Now, I'll get you some music,
you ladies and gentlemen. Oh, yes.

That's it. Here we go.

Oh, isn't it lovely? Thank you very
much. Just go and sit over with Mr Jones

there, would you?

What do you like with animals, dear? Oh,
very good, sir. I love them. Hold this

one, would you?

Fancy this done?

Why not?

Right. Oh, excuse me.

Hello.

Murray Funeral Service.

Yes.

Sorry, could you speak up a bit?

Yes, this is the chapel of rest, yes.

I'm sorry, no, he's no longer with us,
I'm afraid. No, he died.

Goodbye.

It's completely inexperienced. They all
say that. No, as a dance teacher. Oh, I

see. Now, look, I've paid my money. I
feel I ought to be doing something for

Certainly should. I don't care what it
is. I've paid my money and I demand

something for it. Right. How long have
you got, madam? About ten minutes. All

right. Just sit down there, would you?

Hello, Miss Hotbottom. Could you come in
and give Mr Dribble the full treatment,

please? There we are. Now, how do you
like your hair? Short back inside with

the blow dry.

Good evening.

May I say at once, without further ado,
how nice it is to speak to each and

every one of you.

No matter where you all may be, on land
or sea or foam, whether climbing up

Mount Everest or kicking about at home,
I broadcast you all tonight on BBC TV to

tell you of the creation of a brand new
ministry.

Here, just a moment. I hear you cry.

Now, what's all this about? A minister
of poetry? Good God, who let him out?

It's Margaret Thatcher's brainchild,
this. Our venerable prime missus. I'll

you, if you'll all pin back your oral
orifices.

Last Friday week, I left the House of
Commons just on eight. The wife was out

bingo, so I knew that she'd be late.

I popped into the local. I was feeling
rather frail. And there stood Maggie

Thatcher, with her foot up on the rail.

What are you having, Jack? She cried,
her beady eyes aflame.

I'll have a pint of mild, I said. She
said, I'll have the same.

Well, 17 pints later, God, how that girl
can booze.

We sat on the embankment and she came
out with the news.

For many years, she mumbled as she
munched the crisps I'd bought her,

folding up the bag and chucking it in
the water.

For many years, I've longed to see this
ancient land of ours return to former

glories and the pubs to longer hours.

Those grand old days of Shakespeare when
the folks all spoke in rhyme.

and the language wasn't full of swear
words all the bleeding time.

How nice it must have been to hear a
lilting line that lingers when the

to the foreman gave two verses, not two
fingers.

If we could recreate the old world charm
of this great nation, the voters would

forget the shrinking pound, ignore
inflation, and you're the man, dear

said, who can that promise keep.

Romance is not yet dead. With that, she
burped and fell asleep.

I covered her with newspaper and left
her on the grass.

Looking every inch a lady and completely
upper class.

In a powder blue ensemble with her hair
all freshly done.

And across her chest, another chest from
page three of the Sun.

And that is how the ministry was created
overnight.

And now it's up to you, my friends, to
see you do it right. Pray have no fear.

The task is not as hard as it might
sound. For inside every Englishman, good

English rhymes abound. And each of you
has at some time, I'm sure, as have we

all, inscribed a simple stanza on some
bygone wash house wall.

So off you go. And don't forget, just
like the old graffiti, keep it short and

keep it snappy, keep it fruity, keep it
meaty.

So think of all the joys you'll cause
when on a bus you leap at dawn one

morning when the world's still half
asleep.

A single fare to Euston Square, you'll
warble to the driver, the cost to me is

20p, and offer him a fiver.

As he looks for £4 .80 change, what gay
thoughts fill his head?

With any luck, he'll hand you out a
forklift instead.

The world can be a better place if each
man does his best to choose his rhymes

to match the times. So get it off your
chest. Beneath the old stiff upper lip,

the ancient fire still flickers. Come,
fan the flames, and let us get the lead

out of our knickers.

Let onward, England, do your best.

Revive our former glories.

Let's raise our beers and give three
cheers.

Good night, and up the Tories.

My daughter says I've got to buy the
missus one of these brassieres for

Christmas.

Oh, is she making two puddings this
year, then?

No, to wear.

Only trouble is, I don't know what size
she is. How am I going to describe her

to the salesgirl?

Well, you'll just have to say she's like
some everyday object, and she'll know.

Oh, yeah, that's a good idea.

But what shall I say?

Well, is she a melon?

Oh, she's not a melon.

A grapefruit?

No.

An orange?

No. Is she like an egg?

Oh, yeah, that's it, yeah.

An egg.

Freud.

Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Dorothy
Brooks.

Let you know when things are going
wrong.

I will try my best to be there when you
need

me and give you strength when you need
someone

strong.

I will paint your pretty picture with a
song.

I'll

tell

you tales of life as I see it.

And I'll paint your...

picture with a star.

line is 2012.

England is in the grip of a new and
terrifying regime. The country is being

by women.

Their secret beliefs are everywhere.

Men, downtrodden and subjugated, are
forced to wear dresses and to have only

feminine lives.

Two such miserable individuals are
Cartwright and Chalmers, known to their

friends as Janet and Betty.

Janet's illegal showing of male
chauvinist films to the men's sewing

been discovered by a secret police spy.

And in a scuffle, Betty accidentally
shoots her.

And our heroes are left with the grisly
Tarth.

of concealing the body.

When Betty arrived home that night, his
wife, Brian, was already in bed.

How's the sewing circle tonight,
darling?

What? Oh, uh, fine, fine.

Usual sort of thing, you know.

Everybody's sewing things.

How's yours coming along?

What? The thing you're sewing.

Oh, oh, uh... Oh, fine, I've introduced
it, actually. It's, uh... I've just got

to embroider around the neck, you know.

What, are you making a pair of French
knickers?

Yes, if I am, yes. But they're
reversible. You see, you can put your

through the leg holes and wear them as a
ballroom.

Or upside down as French knickers.

Yes.

A bit drafty.

No,

French knickers.

Oh, drafty, yes.

Round the neck, yes.

Very sexy, though.

Yes.

Yes, don't do that, Brian. Not tonight.
I've got a bit of a headache.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Janet.

Yeah. No, no, no, no. Brian's gone.

I got into a big row this morning.

I forgot to do our packed lunch.

Where are you coming from?

I'm in the commander's office.

So I'm risking my neck, old chap,
because it's about the films.

We must bury them.

In the garden.

Oh, your garden.

Well, I've only got a window box and
that's full of my radishes.

Hardly worth demolishing then to make
room for Gone With The Wind.

Well, anyway, it's apt. That's not the
problem.

I've got 37 films to get rid of before
I'm caught red -handed and some

unfinished business in the auction
rooms.

Gone, Mr. Thompson.

Next, lot 324, Victorian Oak Wardrobe
with fitted drawer.

This one, ma 'am.

I'll bring the film down to the car this
afternoon. I'm on early shift.

What about 2 .30?

Oh, and there's one other... What the
hell do you think

you're doing?

I'm dusting the desk.

Sitting down?

Dusting the chair.

It's a new directive from the efficiency
department.

Very good for the figure as well.

That will do.

I can use that method to dust my own
chair just as efficiently, thank you.

More so.

You've got better equipment.

I'll be off then, ma 'am. Just a minute.

Name?

Uh, Julie.

Where is your identity badge?

Uh, in the wash, by mistake.

On my other penny.

Don't you know it's a punishable offence
not to wear it?

Name.

Julie.

Julie Andrews.

Sounds familiar.

It probably is. My great -grandmother
was very, very famous in show business.

Really? Yes.

Eamon Andrews.

You will report to this office at nine o
'clock on Monday when you will be

disciplined. Yes, ma 'am.

It won't take long, but I can assure you
that you will not use that particular

method of dusting again for quite a long
time.

Get out.

You all right, then? I've just split my
knickers.

Pass me some more cans of film, then.

Ah,

what one's this, then?

Robin Hood.

Oh, Errol Flynn.

He's a real man's man.

Yes. Bit of a lady's man, too, I
understand.

A lady's man, really.

I'd like to have seen him do The Three
Musketeers. Yeah.

He played all the parts himself.

Come on, then, otherwise your wife will
be ill.

That's a big hole.

Thank you, Daphne.

I thought you meant the split in my
knickers.

Are you digging out for the wife?

No, I'm planting rhubarb.

Rhubarb? That far down?

Oh, yes, it's marvellous. You see, by
the time it's grown up, you've got

six feet long.

I saw it on television, Penelope
Thrower.

Listen, the butcher's got some lovely
fillet in.

Thought you could surprise the wife
tonight.

Yes, thanks very much, Daphne, old chap,
but I don't really feel in the mood for

fun and games at the moment.

Ah, OK.

Just thought I'd mention it.

Cheerio.

Cheerio, Osborne.

Has he gone, then? Yes.

Come on, let's get cracking.

Hello,

cheeky.

I thought I knew that face.

Don't be so rude, you saucy monkey. Give
me two pints and a flavoured yoghurt.

You're very late.

It's Friday.

I'm collecting the money.

Anyway, I left you till last day.

I thought I'd get a cup of tea and my
legs up.

You'll get a slap round the face if you
don't behave yourself. Now, go on off

with you. I'll pay you Monday. Go on.

Oh, well. No, I'll be trying.

Ta -ta, sunshine.

Oh, dear.

I thought you said you enjoyed complete
privacy in this garden.

If I'd known, I'd have laid on some tea
and cakes.

I know.

It's incredible, isn't it?

Who'll be next, I wonder?

Of course, you realise I'm going to have
to report you, don't you, Betty?

Report me?

To the tape police? You can't. I must.

It's my duty as a woman.

I shall go on Monday.

But, Brian, I'm your husband, Betty.

Thirteen years we've been married.
Doesn't that mean anything to you?

I mean, look at us on the wall there.

Thirteen years.

I'm lucky to sound.

That's a great help, isn't it?

I suppose you realise what they'll do to
me.

I know what I'd like to do to you. You
disgust me. Those disgraceful films. You

deserve all you get. Well, in that case,
why wait till the money? Why not pick

up the phone now?

Simply because I need to have the use of
you one more time.

The use of me?

I need a partner tomorrow night.

Oh, of course, I'd forgotten.

The annual staff dance.

My wife is going to report us to the
secret police.

What?

You've got to get out. We're going to
hide you. But before we do, we must get

hold of our identity files so they won't
know who they're looking for. All

photographs will have to be destroyed.
Look out.

Hello, Betty. May I have this dance?

Uh, not at the moment, thanks. My
girdle's killing me.

Oh,

how about you, Janet? No, I'm afraid
mine's being a small nuisance.

Come round to my place and I'll fix it
for you.

Silly old trumpet.

How's your wife going to report us? I'll
tell you later. There's no time now.

But the point is, those identity papers,
now you work at the place, you've got a

path. You'll have to smuggle me in. Are
you game?

There's no other way? No, no, no.

I know it sounds crazy trying to break
into the Tower of London. For God's

Don't let anybody hear you call it by
its own name.

Let's ease them, whatever you call it.
It's going to be blasted difficult to

in there. All right, all right. Have it
your own way, old boy. All right, then.

We're going to break into Barbara
Castle.

Will Janet and Betty succeed in their
desperate plan?

Or will the commander thwart it?

Will she herself be thwarted?

To find out who thwarts what and to
whom, tune in next week to another

episode of The Worm That Turned.

Evening, Mr. Parson.

Evening, darling. Well, how's the beer?
Flat as usual?

There was it, Mr. Parson. You'll have to
mind your language in here from now on.

Look at you.

What's that swear box? That's a good
idea.

Is it for charity? The church fund. 5p a
time. Oh, you'll make a fortune out of

me. You're right there. You owe me 20p
already.

20p? 25 now. Oh, all right. You got
change for a win? You won't need much

if you carry on like this.

Oh, that's true, that's true. Two.

Right, I will.

Evening, all.

Evening, Joe.

Hello, Gilbert.

Oh, it's a bit... It's a bit... Fall
of... No.

20p from you, Mr. Robbins. Yeah.

Swear box in here now. Don't worry. Have
these on me.

That's a good idea.

With the church, 5p a time, see? Quite
right, too, but Thomas not did something

from a... Church? Yeah, those a lot.

What will cost you 10p?

10? Well, you know, you told me that.

That's me. It's five people.

Then ten people.

I haven't made all this.

I'm standing here like a... I'm going to
have a pint. I'm going to have a pint

of best beer, Dolly, I think. What are
you going to have, Joe? I think I'll

five pence with a silver, please, Dolly.
And I'm going to take this swear box.

I'm going to sit over here.

We'll have a decent civilised
conversation.

Well, how's your love life then,
Gilbert?

Non -existent, mate. Oh, not too grand.

I had an argument with a wife last
Friday night about going to the dogs.

I said I was going anyway.

Get me round the table.

What are you doing here?

What did I do? I hit her back. That one
will cost you a pound.

A pound?

It's getting a bit...

It's expensive in here.

She's making a... Good evening, Donny.

Oh, hello, Vicar. Good evening,
gentlemen.

A double lemonade and water, please.

I say, the swear box looks mighty full.

Yeah, and Donny tells us all going to
the church.

Yeah, that's a nice surprise for you,
eh, Vicar? Surprise?

I'm the...

Give us a checkbook, you spotty -faced
four -eyed git.

I beg your pardon, sir?

I think give us a checkbook, you spotty
-faced four -eyed git.

Excuse me a moment, sir.

Yes, this man said, give me a checkbook,
you spotty -faced four -eyed git.

How much money have you got in your
account?

140 ,000 quid, mate.

Don't just stand there, you spotty
-faced poor... Thank

you.

Thank you very much. And welcome to
Ronnie Corbett trots out another old

Not the most...

scintillating of introductions, is it?
But my original name for this spot was

going to be Ronnie Corbett Entertains.

He said that sounded more like a
headline on News at Ten.

And I've probably done under the Trade
Descriptions Act, which is the sort of

publicity I can afford.

Once again, I'm not, to be honest,
exactly the flavour of the month here at

BBC. Thursday morning, I got an official
summons up to the Director General's

office.

The DG Leisure Centre, as it's known.

He gets all the lavish treatment I could
get. He's got this sumptuous set of

offices on the first floor.

Used to be on the second floor.

Then they moved it so he wouldn't have
so far to reach for the lift button.

To be honest, I always get nervous going
into switch offices, you know, because

with my height, I stand on thick carpet,
you know.

my copy book on this occasion, I
somewhat thoughtlessly barred straight

to find he was sitting there having
lunch with the Prime Minister.

A bit embarrassing.

There she was, you know, just tucking
into a bowl of tripe.

I said, I knew you'd eat your word
sooner or later.

I don't know why I said that. Get a
cheap laugh, I suppose.

No, not unnaturally things got off to a
bit of a shaky start now after she'd

left the dj the dg rather the dg
beckoned me the

dg beckoned me back in he said sit
yourself down cornet

sit yourself down he said anywhere on
the floor would be fine he said

then he sat there puffing away at his
cigar for several minutes till he

got the wrapper off

I think he's a bit out of condition
myself.

He leant back in this power -assisted
swivel chair.

He said, the fact of the matter is, he
said, Cornet, he said, these quips you

keep coming out with, I've been getting
complaints.

That one you did last week, for
instance, Barbara Woodhouse, can't be

tonight because she's gone down with
distemper.

Frankly, he said, it's all a bit feeble,
Cornet.

Now, either you buck your ideas up or
you'll go straight back to where you

from.

As a roadie for the Tetley T -folk.

So, to make sure I'm in the clear this
week, I've decided to

let the audience here in the studio
choose the joke.

Now, they're all worrying now.

Thinking, what's the regard to that?

Can I be fairer than that? Now, any
subject you like, I will tell a joke

Just shout out the second thing that
comes into your head.

It's a family show. So entirely up. What
would you like me to tell a joke about?

Two brothers who inherit two horses.

Did I hear somebody say?

So much for democracy.

If the Director General is watching, I
know what he's thinking. He's thinking,

he told them to say that before he came
on. The devious little liar.

Because he's like that, I'm afraid.

A good judge of character.

So here goes. These two brothers inherit
these two horses.

I think we've just about established
that.

Set the plot, haven't we? These two
brothers inherit two horses.

That's six bloody horses they've
inherited.

One of them says, right, he said, we've
got these two horses.

He wasn't all that bright, this
particular one.

Right, so we've got these two horses. I
say we split them down the middle.

Metaphorically speaking, that is,
because we're not in the hamburger game.

the other brother says, yeah, so we'll
divide them equally between us.

He's a damn sight thicker than his
brother.

So we divide the two horses equally. So
that means you'll have one and I'll

have, um...

And I'll have the other one.

Sounds like a meeting at the Treasury,
doesn't it?

How do you take each horse? They have
faced the problem of how to recognise

which one is which, you see. One of them
has a bright eye. He says, I know. He

says, I know.

I wasn't bright there for the moment.

He said, I know. He said, I'll dock my
horse's tail.

Then we'll know which one's yours, which
one's mine.

So they do this. The following morning,
they find that some practical joker has

gone and docked the other horse's tail
as well. So they're both.

Horses have got dog tails. Then they
have another idea.

Two in one week.

Bit of a record. Anyway, one of the
brothers nicks a little bit out of the

horse's ear.

Brilliant, says the brother.

Now, we definitely know which one's
which. Of course, the next morning, some

prankster's been at work again and
nicked the other horse's ear as well. So

two brothers have to think about it.
Then one of them solves it. He says, I

know, he says.

He says, I've got it, he says.

You have the black one, I'll have the
white one.

What seems to be the trouble?

Oh, doctor, I'm not ill.

Lady Frampton phoned me and said, come
at once, Sarah's not well.

Oh, I'm all right. But she owes me six
weeks' wages. And I'm not getting out of

bed till she pays me.

She hasn't paid me for the last eight
visits I've made to her.

Move over.

holiday plan.

Took a drink with a very nice man.

Woke up here on a lumpy divan. In the
Sultan's army.

Left port side in a fabulous car.

Stopped for tea in a penny bazaar. Woke
up here in a C &A

bra. With the Sultan.

Rosie passed the Ruby Gate.

Traveled in the winter rain.

Started off to see the palm trees.

Ended up as two stone days.

Left our boyfriends Tom and Dick.

Back at home in Hampton Ridge.

Dickie's in the territorial.

Tommy's in the local nick.

I've got jewels and a gem that's rare.

I've got Diamante in my hair.

I've got tassels on my derriere.

And I've got a garter, but I won't stay
where.

I wear a tatter, and I wear a gauze. I
look glamorous in pink plus fours. In

desert when the night wind gnaws, you
can't beat flannel for your winter

drawers.

I can sing as smooth as silk. I get
barfing at this milk.

I'm the blend of gentle

rains, Jasmine nutmeg, gin and drain.

He gave so many of us overpray to their
wishes. I'm flaunting my charms beneath

the palms of fluttery eyes like Libby
and Gish. Turkish delights and Friday

nights. I'm done up in Taffeta looking
delicious.

Well, that was my fantasy till I began
to see all I was getting was washing the

dishes. I'm stuck in the sink in silky
pink. I'm smothered in suds. A stone me

as a rubber. I'm scrubbing the floors. I
do the chores. There's never a pause.

I'm ready to blubber. There's never a
chance of wild romance. They pay me in

washers and call me a scrubber. Sultan
Sultana, a little banana.

No break.

Dusty gents in very romantic faraway
places. Floating me charms beneath the

palms. Sail or return on similar bases.

Turkey's delights on Friday nights.

Me and me see -through, him and his
braces. Give us a perky, but turkey's a

turkey. It's no break.

He's a eunuch.

He's a eunuch.

He's lofty, you'll agree, for he's over
six foot three, but he's just a wee bit

short for me.

Hey, now, he's the spotter man, in the
on and off the man, with bunions on my

bottom, and a coat upon my chest,
putting on the classy ass.

Dogs like Shirley Bassey wears.

Underneath our brassy ears, we've got a
woolly vest.

See me do my belly dance like a lemon
jelly dance.

Several points for elegance, 93 for
pluck.

Do your belly dance, you shimmy like an
elephant. They call it a parelli dance,

a spare tyre run amok.

But a dance that never failed A
masterpiece they rank it

I've got seven veils And I've an army

blanket Trapped in Turkey by a

train For our loved ones sad and sick

How I miss my darling For me, and how

I miss my Hampton wig.

Stop inside the Sultan's horse.

Just a pair of indoor shorts.

Rose of 47 suns.

to hide your holiday money?

Well, that's about all we have time for
tonight, but before we go, a few late

items of news.

Jay Thimble Glutt, the Middlesbrough man
who doesn't smoke, drink, or gamble,

and has never had a girlfriend, tried to
celebrate his 40th birthday today, but

couldn't think how to.

Scientists at London Zoo have finally
discovered why the two giant pandas have

failed to mate.

The parrot in the next cage works for
Mrs. Whitehouse.

Engineers from the BBC have designed a
revolutionary new video recorder.

Whilst you're out, it tapes all the
programs you hate and then automatically

plays them back while you're on holiday.

Dingle... Dinglepreem.

The first division's stroppiest player
was nearly involved in an accident this

afternoon when the dressing room caught
fire and he refused to move back ten

yards.

And Albert Baggs, Fulham's leading
supporter, began a new job as a chef

To make him feel at home, he was
relegated to the washing up.

In next week's programme, we'll be
talking to a man who is in prison for

something he didn't do. He didn't wear
gloves.

Finally tonight, good news from Hunslet
College Hospital. The man who ate Brillo

pads in mistake for shredded wheat is
expected to scrape through.

So it's good night from me. And it's
good night from him. Good night.

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