Original subtitles

Good evening.

It's delightful to be back with you once again, isn't it, Ronnie? Yes, indeed it

is. And in a packed programme tonight, I shall be talking to Rudy Shooks,

Britain's crudest male ballet dancer, about his favourite ballet, Goose Lake.

And I'll be interviewing Wally Tranter, the Bournemouth man who today took his

waterbed back to the shop because he and his wife have drifted apart.

But first, the news.

Bad luck for Wiro, the human pipe cleaner from Lord George Davidson

was in hospital last night after swallowing a cannonball.

Doctors do not now expect him to pull through.

Chaos hit today's elections in Israel when 45 candidates demanded a recount

322 candidates demanded a discount.

British Rail's southern region is to commemorate 100 years of commuter

by commissioning special mugs and then leaving them standing on the platform in

the pouring rain.

As a charity lunch today, the Queen's Award for Industry was presented to Brit

Eklund for her work on behalf of the Youth Opportunities Programme.

The All England Ladies' Doubles Nude Tennis Finals were played tonight.

Wimbledon umpire, Mr Stanley Newbold, said it was just like any other match,

except that the spectators' heads went up and down instead of side to side.

A spokesman for the Heinz Ketchup Company said tonight that in the wake of

today's big managerial shake -up, there was sauce all over the walls.

Albert Clover, renowned as England's luckiest... Test batsman had his last

wishes granted today when he was dropped four times between the church and the

cemetery.

Finally, keepers at London Zoo are overjoyed tonight at the recapture of

the missing dung beetle.

He was spotted in the bouffie at Euston Station trying to roll away a scotch

egg.

But now a sketch featuring Mr Ronnie Corbett, who has just finished a

assignment for Classic Books.

He appears as a pop -up version of Lady Chatterley's lover.

Morning. At noon.

Somebody sitting there?

Yeah. Who? Me.

Well, I know that. I'm not daft, am I? Ain't you? I am.

Hey, what's making you limp? I'm not limp.

Have you lost a shoe?

No. No, I found one.

Lucky it fits, ain't you?

Well, it bound to fit one of my feet, ain't it, eh?

One of my feet is bigger than the other one. Mind you, everybody's got one foot

bigger than the other. I haven't. I'm quite the reverse.

Eh? Yeah.

One of my feet is smaller than the other one.

Ain't you got no proper shoes, then, or what? Oh, yeah, I've got proper... pair.

I got my best pair of shoes for Sunday night, you see, and I got myself a new

tie and all, only had to take it back.

Why? It were too tight.

Here, what's that door doing there?

Oh, that's my door, that is. Oh, yeah? Yeah, I lost the key last week, so in

case anyone finds it breaks, you know, bring the door with me.

That's a very clever idea, that. Yeah. It's a very clever idea.

Well, I'm Who's the door?

Oh, it's all right. I left the window open.

Yeah.

Have you heard about old Reuben?

What? Well, he hopped in court yesterday.

Never. Oh, he was so, too, yeah.

He stole a calendar.

What did he get? Twelve months.

I think, personally, I think, personally, he drank too much.

Ah, well, he told me he only drinks to calm himself.

Oh, well, explain it then. Explain it. On Saturday, he was that calm, he

couldn't move.

Hey, it's my birthday today, November 11th. Oh, really?

What year?

Every year.

I had two presents. I had a wristwatch with an alarm and a bottle of

So if you hear anything and smell anything, it's me.

because that'll mean that you'll never be late for work, will you? No, no. I'm

always late for work. Why's that?

Well, I sleep slowly.

I snore as I do, yeah. I snore so loud, I wakes meself up.

Yeah, but I solved it now.

How you done that? I sleep in the next room.

Funny, it's my whisper.

next week. Is it? Yeah. She asked me to give her a coat made of animal skin. Oh,

what are you giving her? Donkey jacket.

Hey, I've got another present here. Look at that.

Yeah, what's that? Bet you've never seen one of them before. Look.

What's that?

Look at that, see?

Why's it got that hole in it, then? Well, that's to see when it starts

see?

Remind me, I went up the road the other day and looked through the hole in the

fence, that new new discount.

Oh, did you, eh?

Tell me, have they got men and women up there? Well, you couldn't tell, they

haven't got any clothes on.

Well, it's all very well, I'll sit near, I must be off now. Yeah. I'm going up

to the doctor's. Oh. Yeah, I don't like the look of my wife. Oh, I'll come with

you, I hate to show it to mine.

This series, Bron and I thought that it might be nice to ask our guest to be

with us for all of our shows. And we're delighted that she accepted the

invitation. So here, singing the theme from An Officer and a Gentleman, Elaine

Page.

You know what

to speak only to those among you who are sinners.

All those who have never sinned should leave now.

No one has moved.

It's just as well, because if anyone had dared to walk out, they would have been

branded a liar.

This village, this village is overrun with sin. It is rife, rife.

And I tell you, friends, that the devil is everywhere about his deadly work.

He's at work in the village shop, water in the milk.

He's in the public house, water in the beer.

And at night, he's behind the public house, water in the daisies.

He's at work upstairs, behind the curtains of Oak Cottage, where old Mr.

Tompkins took a lodger as company for his young wife.

His young wife is now in the family way.

And the lodger, she's in the family way as well.

Talking about sin.

And the devil.

He's everywhere. He's all through the village infecting the lives of each and

every one of you. Old folk, young folk, each and every one of you spreading his

evil word around with a fleck of his old folk tale. Now, if we don't do

something about it, if we don't get the devil from among us, if we don't repent,

my friends, you've got trouble. Trouble?

Right here in Lower Whitton. What?

You've got crimes and cheats and slight misdemeanors that add up to a whole lot

of wrong.

You've got... women who gossip and others who listen, and some who are

eavesdropping all day long. See if they can hear if the women who are gossiping

are saying anything about them, like young Mrs. Notes. Now, you all know her,

living up by the top end, up the hill. Yes. Now, she's known to have taken in

laundry for the fellow with the limp who works at the inn. Now, just because he

bought himself a brand -new crutch doesn't mean he wore the old one out.

gossip's a yes, and that rhymes with S, and that stands for sin. Oh, yes, my

friends, you've really got trouble.

Yes, trouble. Right here in Law Whitton. Yes, we have.

You've got drinking, gambling, smoking, skyping, fiddling your income tax.

You've got women on the streets and girls on the game and the boys on the

and the girls don't care. As long as they can listen to their tape cassettes,

they're taking it all in their stride. And what about meanness?

Have you seen the collection plate today? Two washers, a fly button, Irish

and a half -sucked mint with a hole.

Last week when a woman was asked to contribute to a home for old inebriates,

gave her husband.

Yes, she did. I want my soul.

Then we got trouble. Yes, we have.

It's here, it's here.

Congregation is consumed by greed, immorality and envy too.

Take the women in the fur coat sitting in the mink. How do you think they got

them? Why? Same as the mink does. You've guessed it made by another mink. What

about lying and cheating on the railway? I heard tell of a woman who was asked

to pay full fare for her boy on the count of the trousers he was in. It's

length trousers, full size fares in the garden. The woman says fine.

So it's half for me and my daughter goes free.

Because the devil is going to carry you off to the nethermost parts of hell with

the fire stoked up and spits of sizzling. And the oil is on the boil.

And each little devil has just been issued with a brand new toasting fork.

I didn't know you suffered with arthritis.

Of course I do.

What else can you do with it?

What's the matter with your feet?

I noticed you was walking funny.

It's these shoes.

The flame is killing me.

Well, why did you wear them then?

Listen, I've got no money.

I can't afford tobacco. I'm sitting here sucking an empty pipe.

Can't afford beer.

Haven't got television.

I'm all alone in the world.

No decent girl would look at me, and even she did, I couldn't afford to take

out, could I?

After a long day's tramping in the heat or the pouring rain, I think of all my

troubles, and I feel suicidal.

Then I take off these damn shoes, and, oh, boy, it's the only

pleasure I ever get.

to go through now, please. And here's your card. Oh, what's this? More

paraphernalia? If you would go, please. The doctor is waiting.

Thank you.

Oh.

Oh. What's this? Sorry. Hello.

Good morning.

Pardon?

Just come in and take a seat, would you please?

Oh.

Oh, what's this? What's going on? In order to ensure a faster, more efficient

service for our patients, This surgery has now become fully automated.

Your medical examination will be carried out automatically by the machine in

front of you.

Carried out automatically?

Please insert your card now.

Please insert your card now. Please insert your card now. I'm going to, I'm

going to.

Which way up does it go? Please insert your card now. You

have now inserted your card.

This will enable the computer to locate accurately your own name and personal

details.

Good morning, Mrs. Ethel Dimchurch of 10... No, that's wrong, I'm sorry. Your

surgical corsets are now ready for fitting.

Please strip down to your bra and panties.

No, that's an error, an error. I'll press the error button, shall I? There

are.

You have just made an error.

Please remove your card and insert again, this time the right way up. Oh,

I'll never get on with machines like this, honestly.

There we are. Good morning.

You are Mr. George Herbal Stickleback.

Yes, that's correct.

Two green acres.

That's correct.

And what is your address?

No, that is my address.

Correction, two green acres is not a complaint, it's an address.

Now, Mr. Stickleback, what seems to be the problem?

Well, Doctor, I've been stuttering for an awful lot of... Is it A, I think my

old trouble's coming back, but I daren't tell the wife?

B, nobody knows what it's like to live with my feet?

C, I haven't been able to ride a bike since the operation.

Or D, none of these. Please press one of the buttons in front of you.

D, it's none of these.

Please date when you first noticed your complaint.

Well, I first noticed it at the corp last Saturday.

Whereabouts did you get the pain?

In the sports department.

Was it A, in the head?

B, in the chest?

C, in the stomach? Or D, in the sports department?

I got this sort of woozy feeling, you know. Do you ever experience a general

feeling of wobbliness? A, yes, or B, no?

Yes, A. Yes, I do get wobbliness in the head.

There are several possible causes of wobbliness. Please state number of legs.

Two when I last looked.

Oh, sorry, you went the wrong button. Wait a minute. No. Oh, dear, wait a

minute.

the Nolan sisters?

B, the Parliamentary Social Democratic Party?

C, three teams of one -legged polo players?

Or D, was this a mistake?

It was a mistake.

Look, is it necessary to ask all these questions? Goodness me, it's a mistake

coming to the surgery, I can tell you that much.

Do you ever have problems with any of the following?

A, a bleeding nose?

B, getting up every morning?

C, Terry Wogan, or A, B, and C, Terry Wogan getting up your bleeding nose

morning?

Is it necessary to ask all these questions?

We are now ready for the physical examination.

Please undress down to A, your vest, and B, your underpants, as shown in the

diagram. Good heavens!

and my vest look like.

Obviously, these machines treat you as if you were morons. You don't know what

the National Health Service is coming to. I mean, we're all seen to be

as simpletons. It's just quite ridiculous.

Have you done that?

Yes, I have.

Good.

Now, to test your heart, pick up the large stethoscope on the table beside

and attach it to the sockets on either side of the television set.

Now place the end against your chest.

And breathe in.

And out.

And in.

And out.

And in. And out. And in. And out. And in. And out.

And in. And out.

She's going to bleed now.

In. And out. That completes your examination.

You have a septic pimple on your right buttock, Sir Harold.

Try sitting on the left one just to be on the safe side.

No, Mrs. Blumstein, for the last time, I will not marry your daughter. Now get

her out of my service.

I demand to see the proper doctor straight away.

I refuse to carry on with this carnival.

Will you send him in here fast, please?

Ah, Mr. Stickleback.

I'm happy to tell you that you are two and a half months pregnant.

I first met Dick down at Dirty Duck.

Didn't I, Dick? Yeah.

Two musicians down at our luck.

Wasn't we, Dick?

Yeah. We both sat down and had some beer.

And he comes up with a great idea.

We play in the street for the world to hear.

Didn't you, Dick?

Yeah. We soon became the best of some.

Didn't we, Dick?

Yeah. I played a piccolo, he played a drum.

Didn't you, Dick?

Yeah. But Ant sounded off, so we knocked it on the head. And we formed a one

-man band instead.

The two of us, just me and Ted.

Didn't we, Ted?

Yeah. I go bang, he goes twang. I go squeak, and he goes twang. I

go bump, he goes bump.

I go crash, and he goes crump.

I go whiz, he go ting.

I go bonk, and he goes ping. We're renowned throughout the land.

We're the only two -man, one -man band.

The barmaid's nice at the dirty duck, isn't she, Dick?

Yeah. She gave us a kiss and she wished us luck, didn't she, Dick? Yeah.

She said, Dad, I'm always telling you, son, two at a time is better than one.

Twice the manpower, twice the fun.

No, no.

I go, he goes, I go, and he goes.

Sometimes when we should go, boom. When he goes, I leave the room.

He goes, I go, and he goes. We're an arm throughout the land.

We're the only two man, one man band.

He goes clang. I go squeak. And he goes quang. I go bump.

He goes thump. I go crash.

And he goes thump.

I go whiz. He goes ting. I go bonk. And he goes ping.

We're an arm throughout the land.

We're the only two band one band band.

Tonight, I'm a little bit excited because I have reason to believe that my

BBC pay rise has just come through. To be honest, my last pay rise was nearly

six years ago when I stormed into the controller's office and demanded that

pay me what I was worth.

And 37p a week doesn't go far these days.

It's pathetic, isn't it?

37p a week. When you consider the producer upstairs is earning nearly

that.

This week, this week I took a militant stand and I put in a claim for a 5 %

increase. And it's obviously shaken them up a bit because I've just had this top

-level BBC memo delivered to me personally.

Actually, it's still a bit crumpled, you know, where it was wrapped round the

brick.

Let's see what it says.

It says, from the Director General... To Mr.

Robbie Cornett.

See, right from the top.

At last, I'm about to be treated with a little deference and respect, as befits

my professional status.

Robbie, what's your name, Squibface?

If I present pay rise, I should poco -titchy.

If you owe yourself a comic, we could... Oh.

I shall treat this letter with the contempt it deserves, particularly when

not getting many laughs.

On very quickly to tonight's story, which I have decided to tell as a mark

respect to my old Uncle Brutus, who was one of the great characters of show

business. For 25 years, his widow Twankie was a legend throughout

I'm afraid he has finally been summoned to that great pantomime in the sky.

He's gone to work for British Airways.

No,

that would be ridiculous. He's actually dead.

To be honest, he was a very comical -looking character with a very flat face

an incredibly big pointed nose.

When he died, he used his head as a sundial.

And it's very interesting because his brother, my late uncle Horace, was also

Panto. He spent 40 years playing Humpty Dumpty.

I remember his cremation was held up for nearly half an hour while someone went

to fetch an egg timer.

When I think of it, it's been... It's been quite a year for bad

news, all told. Last Sunday morning, for instance, there we all were at home,

you know, taking things easy.

My little nephew was sitting on the carpet, playing with his Tonka.

Oh, come on.

I was upstairs in our daughter's playroom trying to smoke a double

salesman out of the Wendy house.

It was an incredibly cold morning. I remember we had to kickstart the Rice

Krispies.

Well, I just...

I just settled down after breakfast with the news of the world. You know, I was

reading one of their thrusting, in -depth theological dissertations about a

vicar who was caught on the church roof with an Avon lady.

Ding dong merrily on high.

When suddenly...

We heard that the chap next door had just been rushed to hospital. It was all

very tragic because he was a businessman who was very big in kitchen equipment

until his accident.

He fell on top of a Kenwood blender and liquidated his assets.

I digress. On with the story. Now, this story...

story concerns a little old lady who, by coincidence, has also just lost her

husband. And she decides that for some companionship, she will buy herself a

dog, you see. Well, we all like pets, don't we?

Well, I remember when I was a boy, I mean, we were so poor, I used to have

cheap pets.

For my seventh birthday, my parents bought me a semi -detached tortoise.

My father couldn't afford a homing pigeon. He had a budgie on elastic.

Anyway,

This old lady decides she has this little dog to feed. And every day at tea

time, she takes the dog off to get the evening paper. See, every night,

goes off to get the evening paper. And one Thursday, she's not feeling her

You know, one of these days, you know.

She's begun to be a bit frail, you know. In fact, she just pulled a hamstring

filling in a football coupon.

So she asks the dog if he would mind going for the paper on his own if she

him the money, you see.

No, I don't mind the dog, sir.

Not at all, sir.

He spoke like that because he's still got the money in his mouth.

Off he waddles down the road.

He wasn't talking and waddling. He was just waddling.

Anyway, down the road. And four hours go by and he's not come back. My God, she

thinks. Perhaps he's been kidnapped.

My dog kidnapped.

Or perhaps he's got tangled up in a toilet roll somewhere.

When it happens, she throws on her coat and hat and she begins combing the

streets.

And eventually, just as she's passing a dingy alleyway, she hears this scuffling

noise. And there, to her horror, is her little dog with a lady dog, as it were,

having a good time among the dustbins, you see.

So she grabs a nearby bucket of water and throws it over them and drags the

little dog to one side. She said, well, she said, well, I've never seen you do

that before.

And the little dog looked up and said, well, I've never had the money before.

This is a true story.

It all happened a long time back.

I was living down in California, just a regular everyday newspaper hack.

But all that was to change the day I set foot on Sunshine Boulevard.

It was one of those thick, steamy afternoons in midsummer. My head was

sounding far alarms from the night before.

I'd been fooling around with another guy's wife.

I felt a heel and a bum.

But I didn't get any further.

Afterwards, I'd gone on to Ricky's Casino where I collected 200 G's in half

hour. It was the worst game of Scrabble I'd ever played.

Now I was alone and broke.

So I took the car out to burn some rubber down the coat.

I guess fate had always planned for me to run out of gas outside of that house.

Right at that moment, I felt there was nothing else in the world that could

possibly go wrong.

There was nothing I could do but call a garage, so I went up to the nearest door

and gave the bell the treatment.

It was a huge, sprawling place.

Parked in the driveway was a Buick so big you could get a pregnant elephant on

the back seat.

In fact, you could get an elephant pregnant on the back seat.

Yes, sir, the owner of that house was sitting on a pot of gold.

Yes?

Can I speak with the owner of the house?

I'm afraid he's sitting on a pot of gold at the moment.

I just had a breakdown.

I'm feeling a little edgy myself.

I forgot to fill up with gasoline, and now I'm stranded.

I guess you could use some coffee.

No, it has to be gasoline.

I'll get the maid to call the garage.

Won't you step inside?

Oh, Mildred, could you call Harry's garage and get them to send him? The

was a real doll, all right.

Her sweater was so tight, when she walked, it was like two turtles tap

under a carpet.

You interested in movies, mister?

Gannett.

Clifford Gannett. Yeah, it's sort of my business, I guess.

I write a review column for the National Enquirer.

Ah, what a turkey that one was.

Maxton G.

Mildew. Do you know his movies were so bad that when you booked a seat, they

asked you which way you wanted it facing?

They say he's still alive, you know. Still living in his own fantasy world of

silent movies.

A complete head case who, over the years, has just grown bananas.

He's my father.

Uh -huh.

So, how is the banana plantation coming along?

I'm sorry to apologize, Mr. Gannett. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.

The truth is, I'm glad you came.

There's something frightening going on in this house.

Oh, here comes my father now.

I'm sorry about that. He's just seen the electricity bill.

While you're here, why don't you come say hello?

Father, this is Mr. Gannett.

His car broke down.

What would you say to a little fruitcake?

I'm glad to know you, Mr. Mildew.

Mr. Gannett writes a movie column for the newspaper.

He says you're just the man he wants to talk to.

About his big comeback.

You can give him a lot of publicity.

Oh, well, I don't know about that. You see, I... He says you didn't like his

early movies.

Oh, no. I love them. I love them. I could watch them over and over.

But, um...

I needed sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I kept remembering that sweet,

soft perfume of jasmine and lavender.

And wondered why he didn't wear ordinary aftershave like other men.

Mr. Mildew invited me around. Mildew asked me back a couple of weeks later to

run a story on the new picture he was shooting.

I knew it would bomb faster than a Messerschmitt, but I figured I'd string

for the ride.

Mr. Janet, thank God you've come back.

If I don't tell someone, I'll go crazy.

My father is... What is it?

No, I wasn't. I wasn't.

All right, so what if I did?

I won't hear such talk.

Bildu showed me out to his own private film lot where he was working on his new

movie, Samson and Delilah.

I didn't need to ask which part he was playing.

Then he really blew my mind. He introduced me to his co -star.

Was this real or was I dreaming?

There in front of me were Hollywood's two biggest heavyweights.

And standing next to her was Humphrey Bogart.

Nice to meet you, fat eyes.

Yes, Humphrey Bogart and Mae West.

Why don't you come up and see me?

He'd even booked Shirley Temple.

I guess she was one of the few actresses who could look up to him.

And yet there was something odd about Bogart I couldn't put my finger on.

There was something about Mae West I'd love to have put my finger on. When I

left, I had the strangest feeling in the

pit of my stomach.

I decided...

I'd sneak back and have a look.

What I saw gave

me the shock of my life.

So that was the angle.

Robot.

Now I knew why Shirley Temple looked more human than usual.

It was a peach of a story.

Only I didn't look like I was going to get to write it.

I was prepared for anything at that moment.

Anything but what I actually saw.

No one makes a dummy out of me, but this guy had.

I figured a hole in my back might get kind of drafty, so when he said walk, I

walked.

Maybe Mildew wasn't as crazy as he looked.

He knew he'd never get back in the movies the straight way, so he was

to bump off actors and replace them with robots who'd queue up to work with him.

Now he was telling me and Constance to start saying our prayers.

Will you? You sent your friend here over there to collect me. What you didn't

realize was that I managed to overpower him and switch places.

Here, catch!

On the bridge, yep.

Lollipop.

Here's looking at you, kid.

Here's looking at you, kid.

Here's looking at you, kid.

And that's just about the way it happened.

I guess we should at least be grateful for one thing.

Maxton G. Mildew never did get to carry out his threat and replace real

Hollywood actors with mechanical dummies.

Did he?

That seems to be about all we have time for tonight, but before we go, a few

items of late news.

Ralston Mayne, the actor who was last month given a four -year contract on

Court, today had it reduced to three on appeal.

The Lancashire son who left his parents on learning he had had a surrogate

mother is back with them. He thought they said harrogate.

A Liverpool Street station porter deliberately misled the What's My Line

tonight when almost at the end of his mime, he started to move.

Finally, sacked door -to -door salesman Bristow Saunders took his case to an

industrial tribunal today, but they all lay on the floor and pretended to be

out.

Next week, we'll be meeting Sir William Grant Bagshaw, the MP who has always

been terribly afraid that his bottom might drop off.

He's held his seat for the last 22 years.

And I'll be talking to the peeping Tom who spends every morning looking at page

three of The Sun through a little hole in page one.

Until then, it's goodnight from me.

And it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.

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