Original subtitles

Good evening, it's wonderful to be with you for this special Christmas show,

isn't it, Ronnie? Indeed it is, and in a packed programme tonight, we shall be

meeting a Scotsman who ate the usual turkey today, and we'll be asking him

he doesn't buy a new one.

I'll be talking to the Polegate branch of the Animal Liberation Front, who

rescued thousands of turkeys and intend to release them into the wild as soon as

they're defrosted.

But first, the news.

At a specially convened Geneva Christmas conference, President Reagan brought

his guitar, Mr Gorbachev brought his balalaika, and Mrs Thatcher brought her

comb and paper.

The meeting was said to be harmonious.

News has just come in from Sussex that firemen have freed the drunken bell

ringer who forgot to let go of the rope and caught his ding -dong merrily on

high.

But now a seasonal sketch in which Mr Ronnie Corbett appears as little Jack

Horner sitting on a tuffet with Miss Muffet.

First she shares her curds with him, and then she has her way with him.

Afternoon, Doctor.

Hello. Champion that you can see me, it's a short notice.

Well, that's all right, lad.

Me name's... Do come in, Siddharth, and sit this end down, aye.

You! I know, I've just had Josiah Ackroyd's lurcher in here having pups

nose. Fair takes the breath away, doesn't he?

Nay, nay, Pew, me name is Pew.

Oh, I see. I rang thee on the telephone about me tortoise. Oh, well, he's

nothing like as maybe I remember now, yes. Let's have a look at the little

fellow. What's the matter with him then, says he? Well, you see, he's just not

been feeling himself of late, I know.

Well, that's not but divvying it with a tortoise, you know.

In fact, well, I am possible with them little stumpy legs.

Yeah, you see, he's not been feeling himself, and I just reckon he may be a

martyr to some kind of mental stressor.

Maybe we all are, eh? What's to say?

Let's have a little gander at this camp then, Sither. Come on, get him out. Oh,

well, he's been acting... He's been acting re -queer, you know.

Fair mithers me, you see. Yeah.

You see, I'm fair mithers.

I'm fair mithers, you see, because his little legs and little head have been

tucked out of sight all day.

It's as if he's got kind of fed up for living, you know what I mean?

I mean, has ever seen Outlook so dejected?

Well, only in the British Rail Buffet.

Then pardon?

Well, you see, Mr. Pew, yon's none of tortoise.

Yon's none of tortoise? What do you mean? Yon's none of tortoise. I say,

none of tortoise. Yon's a meat pie.

A meat pie.

I'm a meat pie. Get away.

Oh, I'm telling thee, it's no but factual.

Yon's a meat pie, and I'd swear that on me mother's whippet's grave.

Say, thou must be bleeding yourself to head. Yon's a tortoise, and no mistake.

Listen, if yon's a tortoise, thine's a chinaman.

I tell you, if one's a meat pie, then thine's another giant. All right, then.

All right. Up and we'll test it with a lettuce test. What's to say, eh? Fair

enough. Yes.

Up and lettuce test will settle matters.

Right -o. Here we go, then. Give it lettuce test.

Yes, lettuce test.

Ha!

It has eaten a little bit, hasn't it? Oh, of course it hasn't. That little

was in the lettuce to start with, you barnpot. No, that is a meat pie, admit

Gee, there's no but right the noise. It's once a meat pie. I'm bound thinking

there's no mistakes, is there?

Just a moment, though.

If it's once a meat pie, what have I left in the oven

warming up for me dinner?

It's time you got a new suit, you know.

You're beginning to look shabby.

The suit was made to measure.

But the bloke didn't pick it up, so I had it.

You've worn that jacket ever since I knew you.

I know, I know.

This was my wedding suit.

Oh, you was married in all, was you?

Yeah, yeah.

My wife was like the ocean.

She was wild and restless and she made me sick.

Any kids?

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

I don't know how, though. She was so daft.

When I suggested a family, she went out and pulled up all the gooseberry bushes.

Having kids with her was like waiting for a bus.

Nothing happened for ages, then three come along.

How triplish you are.

Yeah, yeah.

Of course, they're all grown up now.

What were they?

One of each.

A boy, a girl and an hairdresser.

This series, Ron and I thought we'd treat ourselves to the very best of both

worlds, so we asked two of Britain's top singer -songwriters to join us. They

are Barbara Dixon and Phil Collins. Tonight, gentlemen first, I'm delighted

welcome the driving force behind the group, Genesis, and with his Oscar

-nominated theme from the hit movie Against All Odds, ladies and gentlemen,

Collins.

How can I just let you walk away? Just let you leave without a trace.

When I stand here taking every breath with you.

You're the only one who really knew me at all.

How can you just walk away?

Cause we shared the laughter and the pain and even shed the tears.

You're the only one who really knew me at all.

Turn around, turn around and see me cry.

There's so much I need to say to you.

So many reasons why you're there.

and you have

stand there all on your own.

That's Hamish.

Currently Peter.

Hamish, this is Peter. Peter Hamish. How do you do? You two have got so much in

common.

I must pop off and do my hair.

Hamish, did Valerie say?

That's right, yes.

Scottish? Uh -huh.

Not Irish?

No.

Oh.

Pity.

In what way? Well, Irish is rhyming slang.

Oh, yes.

Irish jig.

I don't know any rhyming slang.

No, no, do I really?

I'm not a cockney, you know.

I'm from Barnet.

Barnet is Valerie's maiden name, isn't it? Barnet, yes. And she's fair, you

She's not fair. She's a brunette.

Well, she's blonde underneath.

Oh, I wouldn't know about that.

So tell me, which town in Scotland do you come from?

You know, Ayr, I suppose, is it?

Ayr? Why do you mention Ayr? What's so special about Ayr? Well, nothing,

nothing, nothing particularly.

It's a very nice town, Ayr. You know, I understand.

It grows on you.

I come from somewhere quite different.

Oh, really? Where?

Wigton in Wigton.

Wigton in Wigton. On the River Wig. I don't see anything funny about that at

all. It's a very thriving town.

My company... Tell me, what business are you in? I'm a rug maker.

I make rugs, that's all.

I don't see anything funny about that. Very necessary things, rugs. What do you

do? I suppose you do something very vital, do you? Something wildly

do you? Well, I work for British Aerospace.

I work in the wind tunnel.

Yes, I work in the... I move the position of the little aeroplane in the

tunnel. Oh, I don't believe you. What with the wind blowing? Well, sometimes,

yes. Oh, doesn't it tend to be a bit troublesome at all?

No, not really. Oh, doesn't it blow things away?

No. Oh, come off it. Your glue can't be as strong as that.

What are you talking about?

What am I talking about? Why don't you face up to reality? You're wearing a

I am not. This is one of the worst wigs I've ever seen.

It looks like a doormat.

I'm not wearing a wig. You're the one who's wearing a wig.

I deny that.

You are wearing one of the worst wigs I have ever seen in the whole wide world.

It's like a hat. Well, yours looks like a ginger cow pat.

I shall poo yours off. Well, I'll stuff yours down the laboratory.

Now, come on, chaps, break it up.

Keep your hair on. Ah, sure.

Yes, but change that terrible music. That sitar gets absolutely on my wits. I

will change it. I will change it. I can never recognize the tune.

Ah.

In the rocking little village of Battersea, there's a groovy little cup

the Pink Rupi. Where we're selling every night food to eat or take, we've got

tandoori dishes like your mother used to make. We're talking crab.

Kebab. Frothy beer on top.

Lambriani. Pakistani papadummer up.

Oh, the women, they are coming from as far as Patni to nibble my naan and to

chew my chutney. My cashmere flan with a pear and a peach refreshes the parts

other tarts can't read.

We got onion -barty deep -fried toast to bring tears to your eyes and a lump to

your throat. Oh, my cauliflower booner is quite first -class, but you sure fall

down on your chicken madras.

Oh,

a lot of bigwigs make a stop at our shop when they hurry for a curry with this

Indian dog.

Last week Ted Rogers was here having fun. He sat

and ate from three to one.

He was stuffing it in.

Finished up with a pain in his dusty bins.

We got posh, nosh, not shiny or just.

Very nice spicy rice, papadum rock.

Bamboo, chewy gooey, pickles and puff.

Hot and squishy Bangladesh, papadum rock. Oh, buddy, all this talk of food.

making me famished. I know, absolutely.

I want my dinner now, if I may. Yes, you want the usual. Yes, please, I have the

baked beans on too. Oh, the baked beans, I love the native food, yes.

1920, and the act of prohibition sends shockwaves throughout America.

One by one, the nation's liquor stores are forced to close down, and even a

young Dean Martin has to come off the bottle.

But corruption and bribery are widespread, and there are plenty of

cheap booze if you know where to look.

Jobs are scarce.

Many men go short. But young Rocky Stallone goes shorter than most.

After three years working as hat -check boy in a confessional box, Stallone gets

a job as a two -bit cab driver in the steamy back streets of Chicago.

Hey, Matt.

You do deliveries.

I'd do anything.

When's the baby due?

Got the cracks busted.

Take this to a guy called Tuxedo John.

He'll be waiting outside Macy's Warehouse on Dockside. That big run

where all the bums hang out?

That's him.

What's in here, I know.

Aftershave, brother.

Just aftershave.

Is this old banger up for hire?

Sure. That makes two of us.

You were looking for a little cheap company?

I already worked for one.

Oh, come on, Mac.

How's about it?

This month I'm giving away a free set of wine glasses.

You know, you could have a real good time for 200 bucks.

I ain't got two big ones on me.

I know the feeling.

for Mr.

Tuxedo Johnson.

I got his aftershave for him.

Aftershave?

Oh, his aftershave.

You know him? Sure. He'll be out any second.

Okay, Eddie, this is it.

Time to start saying your prayers.

What's this creep doing here?

I thought I told you to keep watch.

I did tell.

He just come to bring you your aftershave.

My aftershave? Oh, my aftershave, yeah.

What's wrong with your friend?

Oh, he's just taking an afternoon nap. He gets tired real easy.

Is that why you told him to start saying his prayers?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. He likes to say his prayers before he goes to

sleep. I like that. It's nice.

Give Moose Anne with it.

Mr. Johnson?

What are you going to do with him?

Oh, he likes to go for his afternoon swim just around about now.

Shouldn't we wake him up first? No, no, no, no, no. He gets awful sore if you

wake him in the middle of his beauty sleep.

Beauty sleep?

He must be some kind of insomniac.

meant to be floating on his stomach like that, Mr.

Johnson?

For a swimmer, he don't seem to be moving very fast.

Hey, Mr. Johnson, he's sunk.

So are you, buddy.

Come on. Where did they go? I didn't do anything, officer.

Yeah, and I'm Florence Nightingale.

You smell of cheap liquor.

Okay, let's go.

But, officer Nightingale.

Sentenced for a crime he did not commit, Rocky Stallone commences the ten -year

stretch in the dreaded state penitentiary.

He is forced to don the striped uniform of a common convict, to live like an

animal in a cage.

Incarcerated in his lonely cell, he counted the days.

until he ran out of toilet paper and had to improvise.

Eventually, all those days were behind him.

Eight long years later, he is released on parole.

As the guard hands back his few...

eager possessions, the moldy sandwich only serves to remind him of the big

cheese who put him inside.

I hear Rocky just got out of the pen,

boss.

He's got a bullet with your name on it. That little shrimp.

I dip bigger than him in my boiled egg.

You want to try it?

of this from the loony wraparound of Britain.

Why can't he use a telephone like ordinary people?

That's not particular advice.

Your days as a big... Is that a no or an I?

No. Your days as a big shot are numbered.

That's all he says.

Looks like he plans to stitch you up, Tux.

What are you going to do?

Patience, Joanie, patience.

Two can play at that game.

No, only one can play at patience, boss.

Ow.

That's smart.

So, what are you going to do about Rocky?

I don't think we need to bother about Rocky anymore. I just sent 12 of the

around there to give him a little welcome home party.

Oh, my God.

I appreciate you buying me my own nightclub and my own orchestra and my

audience, but you've got to face it, Tuck.

I can't sing.

Of course you can, doll.

I'm going to knock them dead tonight, and if you don't, I will.

Listen, Joanie, I aim to get even with Tuxedo.

And you can help me.

Thanks, Louie.

You think Rocky would try anything tonight, boss?

Listen, I got so many guns around this joint, a cockroach couldn't get in.

When would a cockroach want to come to a nightclub, boss?

To meet someone on his own intellectual level, like you.

Yeah, yeah.

is coming to do it up.

You gonna throw me in for a swim like you did, Eddie?

Yeah. It's time for you to start saying your prayers.

Because you're going for a sleep.

The big sleep.

Here's a rather amusing story about a chap who goes to live in Bridlington.

And, by the way, take no notice of this.

I'm sorry it's here, but there's nothing we can do about it.

That's the BBC for you.

You'd think the least they would do is sweep the floor before you came on,

wouldn't you?

I mean, this would never have happened under our old producer, you know, before

he was put on the transfer list to Rugby Special.

He's been having a few marital problems, by the way, recently.

Apparently, since he's been out there covering the rugby matches, he hasn't

scored at home at all all season.

This joke concerns... Oh, it's pathetic, is it really? I mean, as a matter of

fact, I did lodge a formal complaint about this just before the show with the

head of Light Entertainment.

And I must say that his reply, nap off, you four -eyed little plonker, did leave

something to be desired.

I said, look... the audience out there do not want to see some ugly great

eyesore on the screen.

He said, I know, that's why we put the packing case.

He said, don't forget, your BBC contract expires this week, so if I were you, he

said, I'd watch my step lofty. Well, I'm not standing for this cavalier sort of

treatment anyway. I want to know what's inside this damn thing. I mean, the one

consolation, the one good thing about being a comedian is it's the one job

they can't replace you with a machine.

So we'll see what... Good evening.

I don't believe this.

For

goodness

sake. Oh, I shouldn't have said that. For goodness sake, don't encourage it.

Technology gone mad. There we are. Get off.

Idea.

idea that a machine like that can do anything I can do.

I wouldn't mind, but my wife has just ordered one.

Enough of this sophisticated repartee. On with tonight's joke. Now, I am

hoping this joke will cheer everyone up because we are still all a bit upset

here about that incident at lunchtime when the BBC's lift operator was

sunbathing on top of the building and he fell off the roof and stopped between

the third and fourth floors.

What with that and a tip -off that an animal rights group had laced a bottle

rat poison with some BBC coffee.

It's all been a bit fraught.

Now, once again, I have to admit this joke is not entirely new. In fact, I was

reminded of it the other day while browsing through a copy of the Tortoise

Gazette.

I've just started taking it ever since I was bought a tortoise, a racing

tortoise. I've never had a real pet before. You have to remember I was

up in a very poor and tough neighborhood.

I mean, my father used to ride shotgun at a Tesco supermarket, probably.

My goodness, where we lived, you could be strip -searched going into a

Tupperware party.

I remember we used to live in constant terror of the local gay mafia,

run by the fairy godfather.

If you refused to pay protection money, a couple of the boys would come round

and criticise your curtains.

That has nothing to do with the joke I'm going to tell you, which, as I say, is

about a man who has just moved to Bridlington.

And, by the way, I must give a wave to my wife at this point, because it was

actually in Bridlington that we first met, Anne and I.

She was working on the beach at the time, on the donkey rides.

It was love at first sight. In fact, she was so overcome with emotion, she very

nearly dropped the donkey.

Back to the plot.

The chap who has just moved to Basildon... Or did I say Bridlington?

Well, it could have been either.

But since he's a man who's just got a job with the Essex County Council, it's

probably best to make it Basildon.

Rather than Bridlington.

Doesn't bloody matter where it was.

The main thing is that one day he is looking out of his window and coming up

street, he sees a little old man carrying two enormous heavy boxes, you

one in each hand.

And as he watches the old man, he struggles up the road with these two

puffing and panting, and he disappears around the corner. Two hours later, the

chap looks again, and there is the old man coming back, still gasping for

breath, doubled up with these two enormous boxes, you see. Well, this goes

day after day.

Every time he happens to look out of the window, he sees this old man lugging

the two massive boxes about. Well, one day, the chap has just popped down to

local for a quick one.

But she's out, so he decides to go to the pub.

On the way, he bumps into the little old fellow, still staggering along with

these two hefty boxes. He said, excuse me, he said.

He said, you wouldn't have to have the time on you, would you? And the old man

puts the boxes down and he mops his brow. He looks at his watch, he says,

he said, it's 12 .15, he said.

In Nairobi, he said it's quarter to three.

And in Guatemala, he said it's quarter past six.

Lighting up 10 in Tibet, it's 3 .37.

The temperature in Rangoon is 83 Celsius.

The FT index is up 6 .2.

ICI has put on 25p.

Elizabeth Taylor has lost two and a half pounds since last Friday.

In New Delhi, England are 205 per six, with Gatting on 71.

He said the 10 .37 from Clapham to Bromley is running nine and a half

late. And Sainsbury's pork sausages have just gone on special offer in Aberdeen

at 15.

The chap said, that is incredible. That is the most amazing watch I have ever

seen in my life. And the old man said, I know, he said, but these bloody

batteries are killing me.

We're cornered, Corporal.

We should be lucky to get out of here alive.

Probably later than that, sir. What?

Probably later than five, sir, near a half hour.

I said get out alive, not get out by five.

Sorry, sir, it's these guns, sir. I know. I can't hear, sir, with the guns,

Yes. Are we, sir, are we cut off from the others here? Yes, I'm afraid we are,

Corporal, yes. We can either lie low here until morning, or you can find a

vantage point and see if you can spot the enemy.

What do you say?

Thank you, sir. No, no, no, no.

Oh, well, it's up to you, sir. Yes.

I think you'd better get up a tree and risk it. Oh, thank you, sir. I could

do with one.

do with a cup of tea and biscuits, sir?

It's a bit of a tree and risk it. Oh.

Oh, dear.

Well, go on. Make a start.

Make a start. Make a start.

Make a start. Do I have to repeat every stupid little word?

Well, it's no need to be personal, sir. What?

Well, calling me that.

I said stupid little word.

Oh, sorry, sir. I thought you said something else, sir.

Get on with it, corporal.

Sir, sir, I can't... I can't climb trees, sir.

What? I can't climb trees. Never could.

Ever since I was a small boy at Wimbledon, sir.

You never told me that, corporal. What's that, sir? That you were a bald boy at

Wimbledon.

And I've always loved tennis.

Dennis the cook, sir. Oh,

never mind all that. Look, up on the ridge there is one of our tanks.

You've got to go up and recapture it, right?

snipers. Anywhere near a tank is a hot spot.

Oh, I don't think we are, sir. What?

Anywhere near a Lancashire hot pot, sir.

You're obsessed with food, corporal.

Sir, I can't go, sir. Why not?

My gun's gone wonky, sir.

Well, it snows. I'm the same. Don't worry about it.

No, sir,

my gun, sir. Oh, your gun.

pocket, sir, and it went off half -cocked, sir.

That's terrible. You'll have to report to me to them when we get back to

Canterbury. I tell you what, I'll have to go myself, corporal.

All right, sir. Are you all

right, sir? Of course I'm not all right.

I'm shot.

Well, it is, sir. I'm hot too, sir.

Shall I get the stretcher bearer, sir? No, it's too late for that.

Just go and let me die in peace.

Do you want any gravy, sir?

Gravy? Any gravy on your pie and peas, sir?

I didn't say go and get me pie and peas. I said go and let me die in peace. Oh,

sorry. Oh, don't worry about it, Corporal. You're not such a bad chap.

Thank you, sir. We haven't always seen eye to eye.

Or ear to ear, for that matter.

It's a gun, sir.

Listen, at least...

At least if you get back alive, when I get up to heaven, they'll say, out of

this mess, you've saved an ordinary man.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Save what, sir? An ordinary man.

Yes, sir, I will. You will what? As soon as I get back to the mess, sir, I'll

save you a strawberry plant.

It won't please me. Wherever you go, I can't go to parties.

Christmas dinner.

Homer is as loony as the latter.

Your hat is on fire.

I'm smoldering with desire for Alice in her winter underwear.

Winter wonderland.

What did I say there? You said underwear.

Underwear? No, no, no. Underwear, ladies' lingerie, peekaboo bras, garters

go -betweens. Did I say all that? Well, you had that in mind.

Well, I'm not as mad as I look.

I'd rather think I overdid the sherry.

I'm drowsy and definitively drugged.

I'm well beyond the stage of being merry.

As a hare, I do insist on being young.

There's the cook, and there's the duchess, trying hard to fall into some

fellow's clutches.

I don't fancy yours.

No, I'd sooner be indoors with Alice in her winter underwear.

Wonderland! With Alice in her winter wonderland.

Christmas Eve, oh dear me, got to bed at half past three. Christmas morning,

kids are up adored. Who gave Willie that hunting horn?

Christmas Day, state of shock.

Try a snifter at ten o 'clock. Knock back another one, then another five.

Stop that goose, I'm still alive.

Christmas lunch, pour more wine, more mince pies, I'm feeling fine.

Knick -knack, six -pack bucket full of beer. I'll go here with Christmas cheer.

Let's play postman's knock again.

Knock, knock, nicky -nack, knickers in a twist. The queen of hearts, she looks

quite pleased.

One more gin, no more lime. Let's play sardines one more time.

Perfect strangers disappear in pairs.

Joseph Davis, wife upstairs.

Half past two, time for bed. Let's knock Christmas on the head.

Knick -knack, pretty wax sleep is on the way. Start again on Boxing Day.

This dinner has been going on for five days, off with everyone's heads.

Perhaps you'd care to watch some more television, my dear.

I don't think I could take any more.

No, I know.

been altogether too much TV this Christmas.

On the twelve days of Christmas we've seen upon TV twelve hours of snooker,

eleven hours of bowling, ten curry peaches, nine Polish dramas, eight

seven brides and brothers, six Nolan sisters, four Bill and Dean, four

what it's worth, three to one, to the manor boy, and a speech from the dear

queen.

other queen, my dear, you know, the one on the stamps. How would you know? You

didn't even see it.

You missed the speech from Buckingham Palace.

I'm sorry, my dear, I was out with Alice.

I must say I didn't rate it much. It wasn't a patch on Starsky and Hud or

Dallas.

Let's not bother with TV, shall us?

It's either the ballet or Maria Callas.

I think I'll give the ballet a miss. I'd rather watch Fulham at home to Chris.

To Palace.

It's much more fun at this Christmas dinner.

The turkey this year's an absolute winner.

If you're talking turkey, I hope you're aware the king of turkey's over there.

Beautiful.

Off with his head.

I don't advise it, my dear. He'll probably run around the farmyard for

afterwards. Anyway, there's nobody left to carry out the orders.

Where's the white rabbit?

He was the third course.

Oh, so he was. Delicious.

Well, where's the neighbour Farts? He's taken some tarts off to the pictures.

This party is getting out of hand.

as two fat boys with the end of the table out eating everything in sight.

with their knives and forks.

We're tweedledum and tweedledee. We're not really twins as you can see. He's

smaller than me. He's fatter than me. And we both like filling our faces.

We're tweedledee and tweedledum. He's my friend. He's my chum. We're boarding

away and filling our down like a couple of properties. Crazy.

Just chips and chips and cheese souffle.

Scallops and dollops of liver pate.

Corn on the cob and creme brulee. We're bound to be sick in the morning.

There's ham and halibut, haddock and hake.

Pickles and prawns, sausage and steak.

Truffles and trifles of dipsy cake. We might go off bang without warning.

Right, that's it. If people are going to start exploding, then that's the end of

it. It's Alice's fault. Off with her head. All six of them.

See you next time.

We're so glad you could stay on your Christmas day with us in our winter

wonderland.

In our Christmas winter wonderland.

you late items of news.

A turkey which escaped this morning from its pen in Norfolk and managed to get

airborne was judged to be the world's unluckiest bird when it flew 37 miles

then dropped exhausted into Bernard Matthews' backyard.

Thieves! Thieves who stole 28 ,000 Christmas crackers containing hats,

and silly jokes are tonight being sought by the police and Little and Large.

Finally, finally, due to heavy fog tonight in central London, Peter Pan

land and had to be diverted to Manchester Opera House.

Next week, in a festive mood, we'll be taking you out of the studio to where

Grand Order of Water Rats and the cast of The Mousetrap are having a cheese and

cheese party.

And I'll be meeting the temp who did some typing for Santa Claus but couldn't

resist a bit of the ho -ho -ho, and now she's in the Christmas Pudding Club.

It's a Merry Christmas from me. And a Happy New Year from him. Good night.

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0