All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s08e05.eng

Good evening. 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 the disc

jockey who crossed a little raver with a
contortionist and got a girl who does

requests on the back of a postcard.

We'll be meeting Tiddles, a cat who
never gets lost, and we'll be learning

secret of his success.

He only eats homing pigeons.

But first, the news. An Oxford
University professor has returned from

East with the Dead Sea Scrolls.

However, it's clearing up nicely and
he'll be back at work on Monday.

Super grass pigeon o' stool yesterday
told how his only ambition is to become

pillar of the church.

Several of his oldest friends were out
today buying sand and cement.

On sale in Moscow today were perfectly
preserved frozen steaks of Siberian

mammoth from the last ice age. A
spokesman said they are cheap and

but take 4 ,000 years to defrost.

Strong wind.

which swept through southern England
last night caused extensive damage to

royal mint.

They also made a mess of the royal
rhubarb.

Ginger, the first cat ever to go into
space, had a nasty experience today. He

was seen to by the flying doctor.

Mr Cyril Smith confounded critics of his
appearance today by revealing that his

suits are made in Savile Row and the two
adjoining streets.

And now sketch time, Mr. Ronnie Corbett,
in which I give him Sonia Lannerman's

phone number and he tries to pull a fast
one.

Oh. Morning, sir. Morning. Morning.

Morning. My wife and I have just moved
into the village.

And you've been recommended to us. Oh,
that's very nice, sir. Probably because

we're the only shop in the area.

Well, now, sir, what can I do for you,
sir? Well, the wife has written out this

shopping list. She's not got the best
handwriting.

Not very easy to decipher. Oh, don't you
worry, sir. You give it to me. I'm used

to reading people's terrible
handwriting, sir.

No, I can't understand a word of that.

No, it's not easy. I shall have to have
a go. I'll manage. I've got the sort

of... Yes.

Start off, a large tin of bears.

Large tin of bears. Bears what?

No, just bears.

Oh, that'll be pears. A large tin of
pears, yes.

No, it's beans.

Sorry, beans.

Beans, is it? A large tin of beans.

Preferably Crescent Blockwell.

Yeah, that's Crescent Blockwell. Near
enough, sir. There we are, sir.

Now, some Cornish Panties, is it?
Cornish Panties. Oh, that'll be Cornish

Pasties, sir, yes.

How many would you like, sir?

Two. She eats them all the time. Oh,
really?

Really? What size?

Outsize. Oh, is she?

Oh, there's a nice one, sir, there, with
the nice frilly edges. There we are,

sir. One pair of frilly pasties. Right.

Are you sure they're the right size for
the wife, sir?

Oh, yes, sir, they'll be all right.
Well, because if they're not, tell her

pop by and drop them in the shop and
I'll change them.

Right, now, want some slippy soap?
Slippy soap, sir? No, stinky lube. Is

stinky lube, sir?

Loopy lube. Loopy lube. Oh, that'll be
soup, sir. No, sorry, stinky loam.

loam? Yes, that'll be the fertilizer
department over here.

I think it's spicy love. Spicy love? Oh,
that'll be paperbacks.

No, it's sliced meat.

I've got it.

Sliced loaf.

Are you sure it's a sliced loaf? Yes,
it's got wholemeal in breakfast. Oh,

would have helped to start with,
wouldn't it? So really, there we are.

Wholemeal, there we are. So, yes. Jolly
Christmas?

That's very nice of you, sir.

Jolly Christmas? Oh, jelly crystals.
That'll be jelly crystals. There we are.

Jelly crystals? What else have we got? A
small union man. Would that be you,

sir?

Small onion plant.

That's right.

I can't read the next one. What's that
one?

Doll puddles.

Doll puddles?

Oh, I know what that'll be. That'll be
the new dolly they've got out ready for

Christmas. Isn't she lovely, eh?

She wets herself and then comes out in
spots all over the place.

Then you rub cream on it and her hair
grows.

Must be dog puddles. Where? Not in here,
sir. No,

it's... Look, silly me.

Dill pickles.

Oh, dill pickles, yes. We've got some of
them. Dill pickles, right. It isn't

easy, but one gets used to them. Yes,
you're getting it now, sir, yes.

Two large stiff and kindly pigs.

Oh, two large steam and kidney pills.
That'll be these. They're all there

strong. They're not the raw things, sir.
There we are. No, I don't think it's

those. No.

Is it two large steak and kidney pies?
Steak and kidney pies, yes.

Will that be lots, sir? Two topless
moulds? Two topless moulds. Two towel

No, two toilet rolls. Two toilet rolls.

What else have we got, sir? That's that.
Is that a... That's a bot of raspberry

gym. Oh.

Will that be a small bot or a large bot?
Well, it is for the wife. Oh, it'll be

a large bot. Definitely.

A bot of raspberry gym. There we are,
sir. What else have we got? A tin of

sliced parrots.

There we are. A pond of self -raising
flood. Oh, yes.

A self -raising flood.

A large bedroom, yeah.

Half a new member, yes.

And finally, a bunch of ruderies. There
we are, sir.

That'll be the lot, sir. Yes, if you
like. Do you have cash on delivery?

Certainly. There's my address.

Oh, thank you, sir. That's where we'll
send them, then, sir. Mr and Mrs Spith,

number 220 Foop, Thigh Street, opposite
the Puffs office.

Further, that is completely untrue.

I'm not really Joan Collins at all. Be
honest, though, I had many of you fooled

there for a moment, didn't I?

That is because in my job I am specially
trained in the art of telling lies.

No, madam, it's not another party
political broadcast.

So what is it I do? Well, what I'm about
to tell you tonight is, of course,

incredibly secret.

Ever so secret. So you must listen very
carefully, then when I've said it,

memorize it completely.

And then forget it.

And then eat the television set.

In the secret organisation I work for,
all identities, for security purposes,

have to be kept strictly confidential.

For instance, I haven't the faintest
idea who I am, nor do I know what my job

is. When I drive myself home from work,
I have to wear a blindfold so I don't

find out where I live.

Even in the bedroom at night, my wife
and I have to observe strict security

precautions.

First of all, we switch out the light,
then I get undressed and approach the

bed, and my wife will challenge me with
the words, who goes there?

I then reply with a secret password,
which is a cockeyed, cack -handed

from Connecticut collecting coffee
-coloured cream cracker crumbs in a

crack cocoa cup.

If I get that wrong, I have to sleep on
the landing with a cat.

A short, white, Caucasian cat called
Corky with a chronic cough and crook.

And if I get that wrong, the cat puts me
out all night.

Now, this all -pervading secrecy over
names could, of course, be very harmful

the normal smooth running of whatever it
is we do in our department. So, in

order that we have something to call
each other, we simply stick pins at

into a phone book.

And my name is Slumberland Quilts.

But that's just a cover.

When I joined the highly secret
organisation to which I now belong, I

of all, to sign the Official Secrets
Act. This means that I agreed to be

by the articles, which is much worse
than being bound by the hands and feet.

Now, official secrets. I'm sorry to say
that in Britain today, we have very few

of these left.

So if you've got any secrets you don't
need anymore, please send them straight

away to me at this address.

Which, of course, must remain a secret.
Now, one of the most interesting things

about my job is the equipment some of us
have to use. Here, for instance, is a

bottle of invisible ink.

Oh, dear, it's empty.

Now, what about ballpoints? Well, we
never award them.

What is the best way to bug a telephone?

Well, ring it and run away. That really
bugs me.

And, of course, there are also devices
for countering bugs. In Britain today,

have now developed a foolproof system
for jamming virtually any telephone call

anywhere in the country. It's known as
the GPO.

And, of course, for sports fans, there
is always this.

A Bristol supporter.

For female agents... This innocuous
-looking bra is, in fact, cleverly

constructed to conceal a tape recorder.
Very simple to operate.

To record, you press this side here.

To rewind, you press this side here.

And, of course, for play, you just take
it off altogether.

Now, this scrambling device... Works in
much the same way as the one you put on

a phone when you don't want anyone
listening to understand what you're

Except with this one, you can use it
when you're actually speaking to someone

face -to -face. All you do is insert it
up your nostril like this, you see?

Then you can go on here until your tents
can talk so nobody can understand a

word of standing or what -ing.

And if you had a dong lay at work, you
can trub out your wiffles to the poor

without having to leak over any warrior
seats on the fourth floor.

Works perfectly. Now, cover.

Now, I know several men who are
undersecretaries at the Home Office, and

vice versa, come to think of it.

Always a good cover, that. Now,
disguise, too, is important.

A colleague of mine, Sir Catford Public
Library, is an absolute withered in the

art of disguise. In fact, I'd like to
introduce him to you now.

There he is.

Uncanny. He's wonderful at impersonating
fruit. You should see it, Banana.

There you have it in a nutshell.

Oh, that's something else he can do, of
course.

Now, whatever you do, don't breathe a
word of what I said tonight to anyone,

will you? Like I said last night when
the boss asked me what I made of his new

secretary, mum's the word.

Good night.

You know old Cyril Harris with the one
eye?

Yeah. You don't see much of him lately.

No. Well, he don't see much of us
either.

Where did you see him, then?

I saw him at the pictures.

He went up to go to the box office. He
said, with the one eye, I should think

you let me in for a half price.

He wasn't having it.

Oh, did he have to pay full price, then?
He had to pay double. Double?

Why was that, then?

She reckoned with one eye, it'd take him
twice as long to see the picture.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is our
people.

I saw you in the shadows, acting so
free.

I knew the last thing on your mind was
me.

I could hear the laughter from that
moment after.

You had my pride down on its knees.

Who did you not belong to?

Now that I'm gone, does she call you
baby all night

long?

Who does your night belong to?

Who's the one you turn to?

Are you dancing to our favorite?

Down the way, it's down in my heart to
break it.

to get me back I'll be left with

feelings that will go unsatisfied my
need for you is very

much alive

get by

is 2012.

Dear old England, land of heroes, is
being ruled with a rod of iron by a new

regime. The country is now being run
entirely by women.

They govern. They are the breadwinners.
They wear the trousers.

Men, completely subjugated, are now the
housewives, forced to wear dresses and

given feminine names.

But some of the worms are about to turn,
among them these two men, Janet and

Betty.

wanted by the dreaded secret police for
crimes against the state, our heroes

break into headquarters to steal their
own identity papers, hoping to cover

their tracks. But as they meet the next
day during their routine daily shopping

trip, they know that never again will
their lives be quite the same.

Here's the sugar.

How are you getting on?

Fine. All I need now is coffee and
powdered milk.

Powdered milk for the country?

We can't just leave a note outside for
the milk girl, can we? I mean, no one

must know we're there.

How long will it take to get there?

Oh, about a couple of hours. Oh, fine.

I'll put all this lot in the car. I'll
shave off from the start.

Hello, Cynthia.

How's Arthur? He hasn't baby yet?

Yes. A boy.

Oh, good.

What are you going to call him?

Marigold.

I'll pick you up in an hour, and before
you can say Jill Robinson, we'll be

tucked away in your little country
hideout just the two of us.

No, three of us.

What? Who?

Herbert, my pet mouse.

What? Oh, yes, I take him everywhere
with me. I've got him with me now.

Where? In my bag. He's in a little
tobacco tin. Look, here he is.

Oh, well, if he must, he must.

But you have to realise, Janet, old
chap, we're going to be very tight on

Oh, he doesn't eat a lot of food, just a
little bit of cheese. He, damn, he

likes this.

Oh, how long has that been, buddy here?

Won't it be all mouldy? He likes it
mouldy. Oh, I suppose so.

That's your car down there.

Oh, what car is that, my dear?

The one in the lane.

Oh, what lane is that, my dear?

The lane at the back of the house.

Oh, what house is that, my dear?

This house.

Oh, this house. Oh, that lane.

Oh, what car is that, my dear?

Have you got a car?

No, no, never had a car, no. We've never
had a car in our lives, no. Well, we

have one.

It was a little mini.

But we had to get rid of it because he
couldn't get in it. He's so tall, you

see. He's so very, very tall.

Doesn't he say much?

No. He's deaf and dumb, aren't you? Yes.

Well, he's deaf, isn't he?

He heard you.

Oh, yeah, lip read, you see, lip read.

Pardon? You lip read.

I'm looking for a short man.

Yes, I prefer one myself.

Keep your eyes and ears open, both of
you.

Do you understand?

It's about a quarter past five.

Where did you get all this stuff?

The pantomime cautions from the grammar
club. They asked me to look after them a

couple of years ago. Still here.

Lucky for us, they are.

I mean, what were the ones we were
wearing?

The two yokels.

Sarah and Henry.

What, in Jill and the Beanstalk?

No, there were two extra characters we
put in to sing the song. You can drive a

horse to water, but a pencil must be
led.

Not as bad as the principal boy singing,
I did it her way.

Still, these things definitely got us
out of trouble.

They'll be back.

You think so? Oh, I'm sure of it. I
can't be standing on a box all the time.

that's true. This place has got an
outside toilet. Yes.

You can't be there without your box.

Exactly. I'd be caught short.

Where? In my hindquarters.

Don't be silly, I'm your hindquarters.

I wish I had my catapult.

Some booze eyes to be scored over there.

balls at the moment, old chap. I'm in a
tricky position back here.

If there's a bull in this field, he
might charge us.

Well, I hope not. I haven't got any
money with me.

One, two, left, right, left, right,
left.

That milkmaid turning up was a nasty
moment.

She must have been pretty short -sighted
to be taken in by this lot.

I'd love to have seen her face when she
groped round my udders and I handed her

this little flap in the back.

That's what attracted the bull.

That's when I decided we ought to make a
rum for it.

I mean, I would have been all right. I
could have just stood there eating the

grass.

You would have borne the brunt of it.

Well, now, they're off the scent for a
while, but they're still in the village.

We've somehow got to get right away from
the area.

We need a vehicle with four wheels
rather than four legs. Yes. Not only

need a vehicle with a couple of good
safe places to hide in.

Is this the end for our two heroes,
Betty and Janet?

Is it possible the police pigs will see
through the pig's will?

Or is it a load of hogwash?

Don't miss next week's enchanting
episode of The Worm That Turned.

A creme de mes?

Yeah, yeah.

It's not like you, creme de mes. I know,
but we are now in the European

communique, eh, we said, eh?

I mean, we've got to start acting and
thinking like our cousins across the

water, a la Incontinent.

Right,

pint of creme de mes, says he. A pint?

You always have a pint, don't you? I
know, but you can't drink a pint when

you're in the abroad, it's laters.

A liter of creme de mes? No.

Just a creme de... a mess. Ignore him,
Charlie. I mean, you don't sit on the

sidewalk cafes, do you?

Stuffing pints down your neck.

I'll be on the floor by the time I'm
left here.

You always are on the floor by the time
you leave here.

Right, there you are.

That's it.

Cheers.

I know, but you can't go on a seven -day
lightning charabang tour of 26 Italian

cities and stop in some of them without
it changing you, can you?

But I thought you didn't enjoy yourself.

I mean, you sent me that card saying,
having a rotten time, wish you was here,

didn't you?

Yeah, yeah. The first day, you see, I
got Spanish tubby.

What, in Italy?

Yeah, and a charabang and all.

Then the second day, me and, uh, me and,
uh... a thingy, what's her name?

Ede. Ede, the wife, yeah.

We was sitting on this beach, you know,
minding our own business, absolutely

behaving ourselves, just chucking bottle
tops at the Germans.

And suddenly this Italian, this bronzed,
hairy Italian, ran past completely in

the nuddy, streaking he was.

Oh dear.

Ede had a stroke, did she? No, she
couldn't reach from where she was.

Then, of course, on the third day, we
gave that the elbow. We started doing

various beauty spots or what have you,
you know. Oh, yeah.

Did you go to Mount Edna? No, none of
that went on because of... Creeping

Creeping about.

Creeping about. I don't mean creeping
about.

I mean Mount Edna. They've all... Not
creeping about.

Mount Edna, the volcanic... What's her
name? Oh, no. We didn't have time to go

and see no volcanoes.

No, we was too busy sightseeing, yeah.

Now, that there, that is Ede standing in
front of the famous Colosseum in Rome.

That's a hemorrhoid I took on.

Oh, it looks a bit rough. It doesn't
have to look a bit rough. Oh, yeah,

she'd been on the booze the night
before.

No, I mean the building, the building.

Oh, yeah.

Looks like a split -level bomb site.

Is that your hotel room? No, no. That is
the famous Colosseum in Rome, isn't it?

It's better to look all right when you
finish it.

I don't go in for this travelling abroad
much, this kind of... I mean, I reckon,

really, if God had meant it to be in
other parts of the world, it's all

foreigners, you know.

Well,

I mean, there's, you know, travelling in
warmer climes and all that. I mean, Lil

and I did it a bit once. We, you know,
you know, my sister Rosie.

Yeah. You know.

Yeah. But Rosie married old young Ted
Knox. Oh, I know, I know. Yeah, she has

broken nose and tattoos.

Yeah, that's her.

We had a holiday with her once, you
know, Villa.

And I remember one night we were just at
this bar having a drink outside, you

know. Yeah.

And a little quiet drink, you know.

Well, Lil was making a bit of a noise,
you know.

A little bit of slurping, you know.
Yeah, yeah.

Nothing offensive.

And we were, well, a little bit
offensive, actually.

We were all standing... Well, bloody
offensive.

We're standing there, and this fellow
only waltzes by and pinches her what's

-her -name.

Well, a backside, you mean?

No, a purse.

Well, where was this then? L .A.

Los Angeles? No, Little Hampton.

I would hardly say that a week spent in
your sister's villa in Littlehampton is

a yardstick by which to measure the rest
of the world, boy, is it? I mean, see,

in my opinion, I reckon that the world
is shrinking all the time, don't you?

Well, funny you say that. Yeah. Because
I was reading the paper and article

about the upper atmosphere of the air
cooling.

Cooling who?

Not cooling, cooling.

Cooling. Oh, yeah. Cooling, not calling.
You know yourself.

In the winter, everything shrinks,
doesn't it?

In the cold, everything gets shorter.

Oh, yeah. I mean, you know that. You
know that yourself.

You know, your what's -her -name gets
shorter in the winter.

Your average day gets shorter in the
winter.

Yeah, I know that, yeah.

I mean, it's shrinking because of all
this travel, you see. I mean, all this

setting and shareabank setting and all
that, you know.

I mean, for instance, I'll give you a
for instance. We went up the mountains

while we was out there, see, and on top
of them mountains, there's nothing but

sheep farms.

And one of these sheep farmers actually
offered to buy a heed off me. No.

He offered me six goats for her.

Well, what a waster name that is.

Ede, woman you plighted your trough to.

Woman who vowed to walk with you through
the shallow charade we call luck. Then

again, a goat could come in handy.

Even asked to have a look at her teeth,
you know.

So I said, fair enough, I went for a
walk.

Left Ede with him.

No, I took her with me. Left her teeth
with him.

Up there, you see, livestock, up on them
mountains, livestock is their currency,

you see, and they are so uncivilised
that they actually think they can buy

sell human beings.

Or in this case, Eid.

Barbaric, isn't it? Yeah, that's the
word for it.

Barbaric. Well, I must get off you.

Here, I'll tell you what. I'll tell you
what. You could give me a hand if you

like. Yes?

What do you want me to do? Well, I
thought while I was writing a letter to

you could be out the back feeding the
goats, could you?

It was very interesting watching the
serial earlier on. You know, man's

against the iron fist of a monstrous
tyranny, battling against a regime of

relentless soul -crushing repression.

It's rather like working at the BBC.

For anyone who doubts it, I have managed
to obtain here one of the

BBC's top -secret personal files on
yours truly.

It's frightening, isn't it, really?

How many MPs, I wonder, would sleep
soundly in the House of Commons if they

knew that the BBC keeps a highly
personal file on every one of its

from the lowest T -boy right down to the
producer of the show?

All the files are locked away in the
bowels of Television Centre, just next

to the place where they keep the studio
audiences.

They have to be locked up for their own
good.

Now, this document is, of course, highly
confidential and top secret.

And only the chairman of the BBC himself
must ever be allowed to read what is in

this file.

Name. Name.

Ronald Goliath Corbett.

My parents were nothing if not
optimists.

Ron Goliath Corbett.

Staff number one, five, six, three and a
half.

Six.

Satisfactory progress.

I'm reading the wrong bit there, surely.

No, I'm not.

How dare they. Anyway, occupation, it
says, sits in a chair and tells long

rambling stories.

Nobody knows why.

Physical peculiarities.

They've missed one out, surely.

Oh, no, no, there it is. Yes, it's a
drawing in the margin.

Ha, ha.

Goes over the other side as well. I must
remember to block up the keyhole of my

dressing room in future.

General comments.

This man was funny once.

The occasion was the 4th of June, 1972,
when an audience laughed at one of his

stories. He was later fined for failing
to report an accident.

These days, Constance resorts to cheap
jokes about deprived childhood in order

to gain audience sympathy.

My father did have 17 children and was
very short of cash.

He was pretty short of breath, too.

As a little toddler, I always had to
sleep in the same bed with my 16

We used to lie there and play snap and I
always lost.

So it is not true to say that I keep
doing cheap jokes about my childhood.

Anyway, there we are.

Conclusions. This man's act should carry
a government health warning.

Director General's comments, if
printable.

Nothing is more enjoyable to me than
watching Ronnie Corbett telling a joke

Saturday night.

So in future I'm going to watch nothing.

I particularly dislike him.

I particularly dislike him because he is
such an inquisitive, little, nosy

parker. Well, that's a downright lie.
Not nosy at all.

In that case, why are you reading this
confidential top secret?

I think it's quite enough.

On to tonight's story, which, I'll be
honest, is something of a desperate

choice. It pains me to admit that I
actually got this joke out of Bernard

Manning's dustbin.

Rather a risky thing to do, because he
was still wearing it.

It concerns this little boy who has an
absolute mania for eating toffee. All

long, all he eats is toffee. Sticks of
toffee, slabs of toffee, nothing but

toffee. And his mother is at her wits'
end of how to stop him. Now,

she's recently managed to wean her other
son off lollipops, telling him that

they make your hair fall out.

And now she's got while watching Kojak.
So she thinks maybe this approach... She

thinks... She thinks...

Maybe this approach will work again. So
she proceeds to warn the little boy, she

said, that eating toffee, she said,
makes you fat.

She said, if you go on eating all this
toffee, you'll grow up to be big and

gross and overweight and nobody will
love you.

You can see why Bernard Manning threw
this one away, can't you?

So the weeks go by and all the time the
boy's mother is drumming into him,

eating toffee makes you fat. If you
don't stop eating toffee, you'll grow

enormous. Well, a month or so later,
they're both sitting on the bus,

opposite them is this young lady of a
rather pretty...

You know it, don't you?

Of a rather fragrant nature, you see.
Now, she's clearly quite close to the

happy day, and the little boy notices
this.

And he naturally keeps looking at her,
you see.

Incidentally, at this stage, it would be
very easy to mix this story up with the

other one, you know, about the young
schoolmistress who keeps staying at the

gentleman at the other end of the bus.

When he passes her to get off, she said,
I'm dreadfully sorry, I thought you

were the father of one of my children.

But it is not that.

Just as well it's not that. But this is
not that one. So the little boy can't

take his eyes off this expectant young
lady, you see. And he starts winking at

her. He goes, like that.

Like that.

All through, winking away like that.
Very heavy winking. All through the

journey, he keeps winking, you see. And
eventually, the lady gets rather

distressed. She said, I beg your pardon,
sonny, but do you know me? And the

little boy says, no, but I know what
you've been doing.

Oh, what a twist when we all got most
off.

There's Mr.

Holden. His tone is gold.

His bells are whopper.

Made of copper Goes white with anger
When he drops a clangor

On Friday night At the Temperance Hall
He

was a band Of the Rodgerinners He built
a champion tie He was a band Of the

Rodgerinners All back pulling a drive
Wearing the chains With the bobs and

triples Up on the clarion call

We add troubles when we're down to
doubles. Thursday night,

we join the local philharmonic.

Hovering, quite teutonic. They play
Wagner, they play Crockney.

After that, we're off to do a song of
sonic. With a little gin and

tonic.

I play Messiah.

I play Wheat Fire.

She likes Elijah.

And I'll oblige her.

And I'll oblige her.

Sing -a -ling,

sing -a -ling, we fells on the brain.
And we can't sleep awake for the tinkly

refrain. Then we get a rat -a -tat on
the old windowpane. It's a local knocker

up a building high.

Half asleep in a heap in your bed and
your sock. Nearly eight, don't be late,

rat -a -tat, Billy Knott. Guess he'll
get to thick here for his next Christmas

party. Billy Hardwick.

Though he was a bandy chap, his little
handicap, it didn't stop his larks. With

the lasses in the parks, he was so
passionate, he couldn't ration it. They

called him Willie, Willie, Billy
Hardwick.

Now he had a happy life, not so his
little wife. She took it very bad and

very, very mad.

She grabbed the carving knife, cut off
his social life. Silly Billy.

Oh, wait. Knockers up, knockers up, when
you're out on the spree. Knockers up,

knockers up, and a maiden you see lying
flat on her back. Knockers up, let her

be. That's the moral of the tale of
Billy.

We play far from Rundale on civic
occasions.

We're going to Oldham on Saturday night.

We ring for the mayors and their big
corporations.

We're going to Oldham on Saturday night.

is known as Big Beth's Fair. The front
of her dress there is bolding and tight.

We'll have a right gala in Beth's secret
bar because we're going to

hold them on Saturday night.

Sam and Higginbottom Fred.

Higginbottom Jim, who is slightly dumb,
and he's up the spout.

Higginbottom Ed, with a big bracelet,
and Obadiah Dutton, who's a little

kev. Winterbottom Dan, he's a cold stern
man, and they're all clapped out.

There's poor old Eli getting in a
Twitter, for he's had a lot of bitter

Friday night, and he lifts his bell, his
brow begins to wrinkle when he has a

little tinkle in his bite. All right.

So we're in London, we're in the house,
and we do the hokey -cokey and we shake

them all about. There's a note or two,
doesn't quite ring through, and we say,

Bye, Ed.

Is it Arthur Twist with his limp right
wrist? He's a real damp high -camp

campanologist. He's a small old boy, she
can suck my... Now it will ring his

neck.

Alderman Tootle, living in Bootle, got
three things with gruff and skill,

management class and plenty of brass,
and a lot in trouble up a hill.

Now he's defunct, his widow has flown. A
statue of him, gaunt and grim.

And what he did to all the people.

Corporation's pittance to on him.

He was a friend of the rock star ringer.
He was a friend of the rock star

ringer. He was a friend of the rock star
ringer. He was a friend of the rock

star ringer. He was a friend of the rock
star ringer. He was a friend of the

rock star ringer.

He was a friend of the rock star ringer.
He was a friend of the rock

star ringer.

well that

appears

to be all we have time for tonight but
before we go a few items of late news

bionic man was released from hospital
tonight after falling into the Thames.

Doctors told him to spend a few days at
home rustling.

Trainee skin divers Bob and Betty
Bletchley set a new record today after

their instructor if it was possible to
have sex in six feet of water and being

told to fathom it out for themselves.

And it was good news today for the edge
-bastard man jailed for five years for

stealing records.

He's being re -released on Friday.

And a happy outcome for Rear Admiral Sir
Percy Hodgkinson after he fell into a

vat of fresh whipped cream this morning
in Portsmouth. He was piped aboard his

ship this afternoon.

Finally, we have heard that Arnold
Plunger, Britain's oldest plumber, was

finally called to meet his maker. He
said he'd be round in about three weeks.

Until then, it's goodnight from me. And
it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.

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