All language subtitles for Blackadder.Christmas.Carol.1988.DVDRip.XviD-MDX.ENG

Blackadder, Blackadder...

In the reign of good Queen Vic,

there stood, in Dumpling Lane
in Old London Town,

the moustache shop
of one Ebenezer Blackadder,

the kindest and loveliest man
in all England.

# He's kind and generous to the sick

# He'd never spread a nasty rumour

# He never gets on people's wick

# And doesn't laugh at toilet humour

# Blackadder, Blackadder

# He's sickeningly good

# Blackadder, Blackadder

# As nice as Christmas pud

Humbug! Humbug!

- Humbug, Mr Baldrick?
- Oh, thank you very much.

I've got all the presents.

And I've nearly finished
the Christmas cards.

Splendid, let me see.

"A very messy Christmas. "

I'm sorry, Mr Baldrick,
shouldn't that be "merry"?

"A merry messy Christmas"?

All right, but the main thing
is that it should be messy...

Messy cake, soggy pudding,
great big wet kisses under the mistletoe.

Yes... I fear, Mr Baldrick,

that the only way you're likely
to get a big wet kiss at Christmas- or,

indeed, any other time- is to make
a pass at a water closet.

Be that as it may...
"A merry messy Christmas. "

"Christmas" has an "H" in it, Mr Baldrick.

And an "R".

Also an "I" and an "S", also a "T",
an "M", an "A" and another "S".

Oh, and you've missed out
the "C" at the beginning.

Congratulations, Mr Baldrick!
Something of a triumph,

I think - you must be the
first person ever to spell...

...'Christmas' without getting
any of the letters right at all.

Well, I was a bit rushed.

I've been helping out with
the workhouse nativity play.

- Oh, of course! How did it go?
- Well, not very well.

At the last moment,
the baby playing Jesus died.

Oh, dear, this high
infant mortality rate's a real devil...

...when it comes to staging
quality children's theatre.

- What did you do?
- Got another Jesus.

Thank goodness. His name?

Spot.

There weren't any more children,
so we had to settle for a dog instead.

Oh, dear... I'm not convinced that
Christianity would have established...

...its firm grip over the hearts
and minds of mankind...

...if all Jesus had ever said was "Woof. "

It went all right
till the shepherds came on.

See, we hadn't been able to get any real
sheep, so we had to stick some wool...

...on some other dogs.

Yeah, and the moment Jesus
got a whiff of 'em, he's away.

While the angel's singing
"Peace on Earth, goodwill to mankind",

Jesus scampers across
and tries to get...

...one of the sheep to
give him a piggyback ride!

Scarcely appropriate behaviour
for the son of God, Mr Baldrick.

- Weren't the children upset?
- No, they loved it.

Oh, the playful young scamps, eh?

Still what a lovely thought it is,

at this moment, all over the country,

from highest to lowest,

through those charming plump folk
somewhere in the middle,

everyone is enjoying Christmas.

- What are you doing, Albert?
- Nothing.

Oh, yes, you are,
you naughty German sausage!

- Tell me what you're doing.
- I just said; I'm not doing anything!

Really, woman
- when you're busy ruling India,

you don't tell me
what "you" are doing...

So why should I tell you
what "I" am doing when I am busy...

...wrapping up this cushion
for your surprise Christmas present?

Dem! Now I have only
two surprise presents for you.

Oh, dear Alby, don't worry, I don't mind.

I do. I love surprises.

Christmas without surprises
is like the nuts without the nutcracker.

Which is why I have brought you
this surprise nutcracker...

Dem! Dem!

Darling Bobo, don't worry.
Besides, haven't you forgotten something?

- What?
- Our traditional Christmas adventure.

Yes, of course, the traditional
Christmas adventure! Huzzah!

What traditional Christmas adventure?

You silly soldier!

You know: when we disguise ourselves as
common folk and go out amongst the people...

...to reward the virtuous and the good.

Yes, of course, Dummkopf,
how could I forget!

Das ist nicht ausgezeichnet!

For it is for precisely
such an outing as this...

...that I have bought
you my finest surprise present:

this muff, which I'm going to
give you tomorrow...

Dem! Dem! Dem!

Excellent! Excellent!
What a splendid spread!

Nuts, turkey and presents.

What more could a man desire at Christmas

Well a tree.

Of course, I quite forgot.

I dropped in on Mr Thicktwistle's
Garden Emporium...

...and, I think you'll agree,
got quite a bargain...

...on this special Christmas twig.

- It's a bit of a tiddler, ain't it?
- Yes, but size isn't important, my friend.

It's not what you've got,
it's where you stick it.

Besides, look: we've got a whole
year's profits to spend on fun and larks!

- How much is it?
- �17 and a penny.

It'd be a lot more if you didn't give away
so much money to the poor.

Yes, but in the feeling good
ledger of life, we are rich indeed.

Yeah, I just wish we
weren't doing so well...

...in the bit-short-of-prezzies-and
-feeling-a-gullible-prat ledger.

Well bless my ten toes,
who could that be on this cold night?

Ah, Mrs Scratchit! Greetings
to you on this merry Yuletide Eve.

Oh, Mr Blackadder!

How can I be merry when we're so poor...

we shall have nothing
to eat on Christmas Day?

Except what Grandfather can scrape
from under his big toenails?

No goose for Tiny Tom this year!

Mrs Scratchit, Tiny Tom is 15 stone
and built like a brick privy.

If he eats any more heartily,
he will turn into a pie shop.

Oh, pardon me, but, look, look,
there must be something we can do...

Ah, that box of matches
in your basket is just the thing I need.

- How much did they cost?
- A quid a match.

Mrs Scratchit, I suspect that
to be a lie of sorts.

Oh, but it's Christmas Eve,
so, here, take �10.

So you don't want all the matches, then?
There's 17 of 'em.

You have the body of a weak woman,
but the mind of a criminal genius.

- Here, �17 pounds, then.
- Lovely!

And my best wishes
to your massive offspring!

So we had �17 and a penny,

and we give Mrs Scratchit �17,
so that leaves...

Yes, come on, Mr Baldrick,
�17 and a penny, minus �17 leaves...

�38, eight shillings and fourpence.

Not bad, Mr Baldrick. The answer is,
in fact, a splendid shining penny.

Merry Christmas Eve,
Mr Slackbladder... I mean, Blackadder.

And to you, young urchin.

A penny for Christmas cheer,
sucker... I mean, sir.

Erm, well...

Certainly, here.

Er, going to buy
some cake and...

...pie for yourself and
your silver-haired mother?

Nah, sod that!
I'm off to the gin shop.

They grow up so fast these days, bless 'em.

Oh, well another year without profit.

Still it is Christmas.

And let us remember, Mr Baldrick,

that be we as stony as a biblical execution,

it's still the season of good cheer
and we have our Christmas treats.

Nuts, turkey and presents.

And my goddaughter, Millicent.

Er, secure the ornaments,
Mr Baldrick, and let her in.

So we put all our presents
under our little tree.

A scarf for me, a pair of gloves
for Mr Baldrick and a hat for Millicent.

Ah, Millicent! To what do
I owe this excellent pleasure?

I just thought I'd pop round,
you know, on the off chance.

Well, you know, Christmas is a time
traditionally connected with presents.

It is indeed. And look, a lovely hat
for my dear goddaughter.

Oh, thanks. And look! A scarf
and a pair of gloves to match!

That's not bad, I suppose.

- Yes, jolly good.
- I'm sorry I can't stop.

I thought perhaps I might come back
tomorrow at "lunchtime"...

Oh, what a splendid idea!

It'll just be little me
and my teensy boyfriend,

so cook two extra turkeys.

Thanks for all the pressies.

Why don't you take the flippin' tree?!

Oh, you are sweet!

Bye!

Bye. My, what a jolly young girl!

Pity she nicked all the presents.

Yes, but I thought you and
I would be spoilt enough...

...with the turkey and this mountain
of nuts we have.

Well peel my tangerines,
this is a night!

- Back!
- Ah, Beadle.

Charmed, honoured
and lovelied in every possible way.

Get back!

Felicitous compliments
of the gorging season to you, sir.

Peace on Earth and fat tums to all men!

Indeed, indeed! And what
of your little orphan charges?

Well, I don't think
I charges them enough,

as a matter of fact.

Luckily you're here to cover up
the shortfall Mr Blackadder.

They're looking forward
to coming tomorrow,

perhaps bringing a
little surprise for you.

Surely not another totally
unexpected rendition of...

"God Rest Ye Merry Mr Blackadder"?

Not for me to say, sir.

All I can say is that
it's Christmas as usual,

except sadly we've managed to polish off
all our nuts before the big day.

What luck! As fate would have it,
we have some. Here help yourselves.

No, sir! No, sir,
I couldn't possibly...

...take them from you!
Absolutely not!

- Is this all is it?
- Yes.

It'll have to do, then.
See you tomorrow.

Well what a jolly fellow!

Looked like a fat git to me.

Well, yes, Mr Baldrick, but you mustn't
judge people from outward appearances.

Strip away the outer layers of a fat git,

and inside you'll probably find a...

...thin git.

Those orphans were a bit fat, too.

There's some truth there.

Certainly, when I go and visit them,
I do tend to remove all sharp objects...

...for fear of bursting one of them...

...and getting showered
in two dozen semi-digested pies.

But what of it?
As long as they're happy...

At least we've still got our turkey.

And who knows,
Christmas is a time for miracles,

so, maybe, if we screw up
our eyes really tight...

...and pray to the big
pink pixie in the sky,

someone will come
and reward us.

- Come on.
- Dear, innocent Mr Baldrick.

- See!
- Well baste my steaming puddings!

Good evening,
sir and madam.

Good evening. We have come here on a mission
to reward the virtuous this Christmas Eve.

Good heavens!

We have heard many stories
of your kindness and generosity.

Well one tries.

- So please...
- Yes?

Give us �10 for the virtuous lady next door.

Ah, well,
we'd love to oblige,

but I'm afraid
we haven't anything to give.

Surely you must have something...
What about a goose?

Oh, Albert!

We've only got a turkey, see.

That sounds ideal.

- Aw...
- There's a bit of luck!

Mr Baldrick, fetch the turkey.

I detect from your accent sir,
that you are not from round here.

Ah... Nein.

I am from Glasgow.

Ah, a fine city. I love the Gorbals.

Yes, the Gorbals, I love them, too.
A lovely couple, lots of fun.

Bye-bye, birdy.

- Well done indeed. Good evening.
- Good evening.

If I run into Mr and Mrs Gorbal,
I give them your regards.

Oh, dear, Mr Baldrick, it looks
as we're in for a thin Christmas.

Don't you worry, I'm hanging my sock up
so Santa will come down the chimney.

I guarantee,
if there's one thing...

...that'll stop Santa
coming down the chimney,

it's your sock waiting for him.

If I don't hang my sock out,
how will Santa fill it?

If you do hang your sock out,

Santa will be dead
before he gets within 100 yards of it.

- Don't you have any other socks?
- I got one other.

Don't worry about, my dear fellow,
take one of mine from the linen cupboard.

I'm off to bed.
There's nothing else to stay up for.

- Goodnight, Mr Baldrick.
- 'night 'night.

By the way - I forgot to mention:
When you were out there,

there was this enormous ghostly
creature come in saying,

"Beware, for tonight you shall receive
a strange and terrible visitation. "

I just thought I'd mention it.

It come through the wall
said its piece, then sodded off.

- Oh, fine. Goodnight, Mr Baldrick.
- 'night 'night.

Whoo-oo. Whoo-oo.

Whoo-oo. Whoo-oo. Whoo-oo.

Whoo-oo. Whoop!

- Can I help?
- No, thanks. No. No, no.

I just popped in to say hello'.
Spirit of Christmas, how d'you do?

Just doing my usual rounds,
a bit of haunting,

getting misers to change their evil ways.

But you're obviously
such a good chap,

there'll be no need for
any of that nonsense,

so I'll just say 'cheery-bye'.
Cheery-bye!

Well, can I get you
a cup of tea or anything?

You wouldn't have anything
a bit more... medicinal?

I see. I've only got some
of Nurse Macready's surgical bruise lotion.

Oh, nothing but the best at this house, eh?

Huh. Mmm.

Delicious.

Well, this is a nice change
from all those skinflints.

You know that old fellow
across the road? Bags of money.

I caught him trying
to cut down...

...on his heating bills
by using his John Thomas...

...as a draught excluder.

Oh, dear, old people today!

Tut!

Tell me: How do you get them
to change their ways?

Well, it's all visions these days.

We used to use
black-and-white line drawings,

but the visions
are more effective.

- What sort of thing?
- Well, it depends, really.

With some people, it's just a glimpse
of their behaviour...

...at school behind the pennyfarthing sheds.

Er, some other people, well,

we just show them how
rotten their ancestors were.

Of course,
with "your" ancestors,

it would have to be the
full one-hour-ten vision...

...with a break and ice creams.

- That bad, were they?
- Did nobody tell you?

Stinkers to a man.
Perhaps you'd like to see.

Whoo-oo. Whoo-oo.

Go on, my lord. Give it a little pull
You know you want to.

- It'll be ever so exciting.
- Oh, God!

Yes, terrifying.

Look. There's a surprise present
for you inside.

It's a novelty death warrant
and you give it to a friend.

- Oh, just what I've always wanted.
- Have you got anything for me?

- It's nothing really.
- Oh, sir.

No, it's really nothing.
I haven't got you anything.

I spent all my cash
on this damn thing for the Queen.

She better bloody like it.
She dropped enough hints.

That woman's about as subtle
as a rhinoceros horn up the backside.

Door!

Good morning, Your Majesty.
Christmas again, eh? What joy!

- Don't you just love it?
- No, I hate it.

- In fact, I've just abolished it.
- I'm sorry...?

I'm going to block up the chimneys,
burn all the crackers...

...and kill anyone I see carrying a present.

Oh!

- What's that, Edmund?
- This?

- It's a window.
- A window.

Yes, but you seem to have one here,
so sorry to disturb you.

Ohh.

Well so much for that.

Ow!

Ah, Melchett.

Greetings! I trust that Christmas
brings you its traditional mix...

...of good food and violent stomach cramp.

And compliments
of the season to you, Blackadder.

May the yuletide log slip from your fire
and burn your house down.

I'm glad I saw you.
I feel it only fair to warn you...

...that the Queen has banned Christmas,

so I wouldn't get her
a present this year.

I'm indebted to you for that advice
and I shall follow it to the letter.

The day I get my brain replaced
by a cauliflower.

- Ha! Got him with my subtle plan.
- I can't see any subtle plan.

You wouldn't see a subtle plan
if it painted itself purple...

...and danced naked on a harpsichord...

...singing "Subtle Plans Are Here Again. "

It's what we call a double-bluff.

Melchett will undoubtedly
do the opposite of what I tell him,

go and get an enormous present,
give it to the Queen, and then... Qchk!

What? He'll turn into a duck?

Yes.

Pity about this, Tinky Wink.
You used to love this time of year.

I know.

Leaving a mince pie and a glass of wine out
for Father Christmas...

...and then scoffing it...

...because I was a princess
and could do what I bloody well liked.

And wondering if your father's wife
would last till Boxing Day...

...without having her head cut off.

We knew if he gave her a hat
she'd probably be all right.

- Happy days!
- Yes. Maybe I was a little rash.

Ah, boys, welcome back!

But, Melchett, what have you got
under your coat?

It's not a present, is it?

A present, Majesty? But of course!

You're so painfully transparent, Blackadder.

Am I?

That's fab! I love presents.

For a moment, I took against Christmas,

but I'm completely dippy about it again.

In fact, I'd like to marry you.

If you weren't as unattractive as
a giant slug.

Oh, pish, Majesty!

Anyway, to reward you,
I'm going to give you lots of presents.

Fancy a castle?

- Windsor, Majesty?
- Title?

- Duke of Kent?
- Anything else?

A devilish saucy wife would be fun.

- Lady Jane Pottle.
- Oh, yummy!

I think she's Blackadder's girl
at the moment,

but that doesn't matter, does it, Blacky?

No, of course not, ma'am.

And perhaps Lord Melchett
would like to whip me naked...

...through the streets
of Aberdeen?

Oh, I don't think we need
go that far, Blackadder.

Oh, too kind.

No, Aylesbury's quite
far enough.

Super. Well done, Melchy.

Now, Blackadder, what have you got me?

- Erm...
- I want a pressie!

Give me something nice and shiny.

And if you don't, I've got
something nice and shiny for you,

and it's called an axe!

- Erm, well...
- Right, that's it!

Any last requests,
Blackadder,

before I chop your block off and
put it on top of the crimble tree?

Erm, well there is one, actually, ma'am.

You know how I've always been
a great admirer of you both.

I was wondering
if I could have your autographs...

...to keep me company
during the final tragic, lonely hours.

- Oh, all right.
- Thank you, ma'am.

And Lord Melchett. Just there. Thank you.

- Oh, dear me!
- What is it?

Why, this piece of paper
that Your Majesty has just signed...

...turns out to be
some sort of death warrant.

Oops!

And I can't go back on
it without destroying...

...the whole basis of
the British Constitution.

I fear not.

- Is there a name on it?
- Yes, actually, it says "Lord... "

Oh, I can't read
this terrible childish writing.

"Lord Melchett. " Lord Melchett, that's it.

Ma'am, it's a trick! You've been tricked.

Oh, good!

Christmas is a time for tricks
and japes and larks of all kinds.

Tell you what, that's so brilliant.
I'll execute Melchett instead.

You're very kind, ma'am.

I suppose that means that everything
of Lord Melchett's becomes yours.

I suppose it does.

Merry Christmas, ma'am.

Good Lord!

Horrible, eh? What a pig!

Yes, but clearly quite a clever,
charming pig.

But no, as you say,
his behaviour, disgraceful.

You're a great improvement on them all.
You're a good boy.

Them?
Are there more?

Oh, yes.
Have a shufty at this.

Right, Balders.

I'm sick of getting no presents
and the Prince Regent getting the lot.

So this is the plan:
We play our traditional game of charades,

and when he gets bored and asks for a story,

you come out here, stick
the dress and the hat on,

and then knock on the door.

- I'll take it from there.
Have you got it? - Got it.

Yes, well, you certainly will
get it if you mess this up.

Hurrah! Welcome, lads!
This is the stuff, eh?

Christmas sherry and charades
with honest, manly fellows.

I mean, for Heaven's sake, what can I do
with a girl that I can't do with you, eh?

I cannot conceive, sir.

Yes, well, there's that, I suppose.
Now; who's first up for the game?

I'd ask old Horatio here,
but he's out of it, I'm afraid.

So it's, er, what, it's the little monkey
fellow first, then, is it?

- It is indeed.
- Excellent. I love charades.

OK. Off you go, Baldrick.

- It's a book.
- Well done Mr B.

I didn't think you'd get it "that" quickly.

Yes, I must say that was damn clever.

Another great Christmas tradition.

Explaining the rules eight times
to the Thicky Twins.

The round hasn't started yet.
It's got to be a specific book.

For instance,
if it was The Bible,

then I go like that to indicate
that there are two syllables in it...

- Two what?
- Two syllables.

"Two silly bulls"?
I don't think so, not in the Bible.

I can remember
a fatted calf,

but, as I recall, that was
quite a sensible animal.

Ah-ha, yah, is it Noah's Ark?

With the two pigs,
two ants and two silly bulls...

- Two syll-a-bles?
- What?

We're getting confused.
Let's start again, shall we?

No, let's not. I think the whole game's
getting a bit syll-a.

How about a Christmas story, instead?

What a good idea sir.
I'll just get rid of the servant, shall I?

There's a limit to how long
roasting chestnuts...

...can blot out the aroma
of Baldrick's trousers.

Don't forget the dress
and the hat, Baldrick.

- Sir, shall I begin the Christmas story?
- Absolutely.

As long as it's not that
terribly depressing one...

...about the chap who
gets born on Christmas Day,

shoots his mouth off about
everything under the sun,

and then comes a cropper
with a couple of rum coves...

...on top of a hill
in Johnny Arab land.

- You mean, Jesus?
- Yes, that's the fellow.

Keep him out of it - he always spoils
the X-mas atmos.

Certainly, Sir. Instead, I shall
tell you a story about...

Ah! Oh, my God, I've gone blind! Blind!

That's better.

As I was saying, this is a story
about a handsome young prince.

This is more like it. What?

Good looking, lovely hair
perched on top of his head...

...like an exceptionally
attractive loaf of bread?

- Exactly.
- I can imagine him. Excellent fellow.

It's a tale about him and a sad,
lonely old granny...

...who's dying of cold
on a cruel Christmas night.

- Not a comedy, then?
- No, sir.

And when she thought
that all was lost,

and that she would die
on Christmas night...

...and be swept up on Boxing Day morning,

mistaken for a huge dirty handkerchief...

...then she knocked on the door
of a handsome young prince named George,

who gave her all his massive
collection of Christmas presents,

and she lived happily ever after.

Oh, by Satan's sausage,
Bladder, what a fine tale!

! I'm quite moved to tears,
don't you know.

Oh, good.

I wonder who that could be.

On a cold, dark,
cruel Christmas night, tricky one.

Could be a robin.

Why sir,
rather coincidentally,

it is a sad, lonely old
granny dying of cold.

Shall I fling her
from your door, Sir,

saying that there is
no room in our Christmas...

...for a sad, virtuous, silver-haired,
old, elderly angel like her?

No, Blackadder, you swine, bring her in!

- The trolley's a nice touch, Baldrick.
- Take all you want granny.

You've found Georgy-Porgy,
a handsome prince.

Thank you, sir.

Shall I show her
to the door sir,

to make sure she doesn't steal
the silver on the way out?

- No, no. Tell her to take it.
- You're very generous, sir.

Excellent, excellent, Baldrick, a triumph.

Baldrick? Baldrick!

Sorry, Mr B. I was just showing
a sweet old granny to the door.

- Are we ready yet, sir?
- What?

I answered the door and it was
this sweet granny collecting for charity.

- So I let her in.
- Ahh.

Something wrong, Mr B?

No, don't worry -
I should have known not to trust a man...

...with the mental agility
of a rabbit dropping.

- Sorry, Mr B.
- Oh, it's perfectly all right.

It's not your fault.

Still I fear for a frail, elderly woman...

...laden with valuables, travelling through
the inadequately lit streets of London.

- Yes, she's not safe, sir.
- Well not from me, certainly.

- Very amusing!
- In what way?

The wigs. Very amusing wigs.
But his behaviour, as you say, disgraceful.

But... But he actually got the presents.

Y... Y... Yes.

So there is something
to be made out of being bad.

Er, technically...
technically... yes... yes...

But that's not the point,
is it?

It's the soul, the soul.

As a matter of interest, what would
happen in the future if I was bad?

Erm... Heavens! Is that the time?
I really must be off.

I'd love to see Christmas Future.

No, no, no, it's terribly melodramatic.

Look, just show it, please.

All right. Whoo-oo.

Hail, Queen Asphyxia,
Supreme Mistress of the Universe.

And hail to you,
my triple husbandoid.

I summon you here to groupgreet
our swift Imperial Navies home.

Approach, Grand Admiral
of the Dark Segment...

...and Lord of the
High-slung Bottoms of Zob.

Morning.

To you, Blackadder, Thrice-endowed
Supreme Donkey of the Trouserpod,

this much greeting.

I, too, Bold Navigator,

cringe my dribblies
at your resplendent pofflesnood.

That won't be necessary,
thank you.

Approach, your slave, Baldrick.

For God's sake,
Baldrick -

if you're going to wear
that ridiculous jockstrap,

at least keep your legs together.

Wilco, skipper.

Majesties, I give you this much greeting.

- What news of the foul Marmidons?
- Scattered to the Nine Vectors, my Lord.

And the Sheepsqueezers of Splatikon Five?

Have they been suckcreamed
as a quanbeast's nubole?

They're dead,
if that's what you mean.

Plus, Commander, did you
vanquish the Nibblepibblies?

No, my Lord Pigmot, I did not
vanquish the Nibblepibblies,

because you just made them up.

Damn it!

Excellent, Commander.

You have most pleasantly
wibbled my frussetpouch.

Bring forth the gift
with which you honour me.

Majesties, from a place
where the stars begin and end,

I bring you this.

Oh, lovely, an ashtray.

Come, Majesty, he wastes our time.

I yearn to attend "20,000 years
of the Two Ronnoids" on the box podule.

- Send him to the sprouting chamber!
- No, wait!

- What is it, Commander?
- I'll show you, shall I?

Now, Your Majesty,
I must respectfully insist...

...that you hand over to me
the Supreme Command of the Universe,

sew a button on my spare uniform,
and marry me this afternoon.

I thought you'd never ask.

Ha, ha. So let's get this straight.

If I was bad, my descendants
would rule the entire universe.

Maybe, maybe.
But would you be happy?

Being ruler of the universe
is not all it's cracked up to be.

There's the long hours... I mean,
you wave at people the whole time,

you're no longer your own boss.

But, but, so, what if I stayed good?
What then does the future hold?

Ah, well, I really must
put my foot down here.

I've got four hauntings...

...and a scare-the-bugger-to-death
to do before morning.

- Whoo-oo.
- No, no.

Hail, Queen Asphyxia,
Supreme Mistress of the Universe.

And hail to you, my triple husbandoid.

I summon you here to groupgreet
our swift Imperial Navies home.

Approach, Grand Admiral
of the Dark Segment...

...and Lord of the
High-slung Bottoms of Zob.

- Hail.
- And your slave.

- What's his name?
- I can't remember, Your Majesty.

No matter, Supreme Marshal of the Smells,

what news of the foul Marmidons?

- Good news...
- Excellent!

...for the Marmidons.

They wiped out our entire army.

Sorry; I got a bit confused and
dropped a bomb on our own lot.

Silence, squidling.

Bring forth the gift
with which you honour me.

Oh, damn, I forgot
the bloody present and all.

So one way, it's glory everlasting,

the other, it's wearing
Baldrick's posing pouch.

Well, it's not as simplistic,

but it does at least
point a very clear lesson.

- Namely?
- Namely...

...the rewards of virtue
are largely spiritual,

but all the better for it.

You don't think it points
the very clear lesson that...

...bad guys
have all the fun?

No! No!
Absolutely not.

The rewards of virtue are
infinitely more attractive.

Picture it.

Quiet evenings in your hovel, alone.

A Bible.
Your own turnip!

Oh, well that makes all the difference!

- So you're going to be a good boy, then?
- Absolutely.

Would I lie to you?

Whoo-oo, whoo-oo.

Whoo-oo, whoo-oo.

Mr Blackadder.

Looks like Father Christmas
just forgot about me this year.

Dear me, but don't be too unhappy,
because if you look very carefully,

there's something
in this stocking from me.

In fact, it's something I made for you.

That's the kind of pressie
that shows the most love.

What have you made for me, Mr B?

I've made you... a fist.

- A fist?
- Yes, it's for hitting.

What's wonderful about it
is that you can use it again...

...and again...

...and again.

- Well what do you say?
- Thank you, Mr B.

Think nothing of it.
I, after all think nothing of you.

Oi! Gitface! How about
a penny for the season?

Hark, do I hear the voice
of a darling little cherub at the window.

No, I must have imagined it.

Shall I get that?

No, leave them in the snow
until I get dressed.

I'll only be about 40 minutes.

Door.

Compliments of the season, sir.

We have come to
sing merrily and...

...to make you a gift of a
small pudding. Three, four...

# God bless Mr B at Christmas time
And baby Jesus, too

# If we were little pigs we'd sing
Piggy Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy Woo

# Piggy Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy
Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy Woo

# Oh, Piggy Wiggy Wiggy Woo
Piggy Wiggy Woo

# Oh, Piggy Wiggy Wiggy
Wiggy Wiggy Wiggy Woo

- Utter crap.
- Thank you very much, sir.

- Do we get a Christmas treat now?
- Yes, indeed you do.

- What is it?
- A door in the face.

Here you are.

Oh, Mr B! You can't send
them out into the world...

...with nothing but a small pudding!

How right you are, Baldrick. Door.

Thank you.

- You know what I'm hoping?
- What are you hoping, Baldrick?

I'm hoping that this is all
a merry Christmas jape,

and, in a moment, you're going to go
"Yo ho ho!" and give me a mince pie.

Close your eyes, Baldrick.
Open your mouth.

Yo, ho, ho.

- Cooee.
- Ah.

My dear Millicent,
come for her dinner.

And she seems to have brought
the fish course with her.

Who, my dear,

is the huge halibut
in the trousers?

I think it's me.

- This is Ralph, he's my fianc�.
- We're in love.

Oh, dear.

Ill-conceived love, I should warn you,
is like a Christmas cracker.

One massively disappointing bang
and the novelty soon wears off.

Shut up.

Oh, Mr Blackadder, what's happened?

You've changed from
the nicest man in England...

...into the horridest man in the world.

I was thinking the same thing myself.

When spoken to.

I would explain,
my dear,

but I fear that you wouldn't understand,

blessed as you are with a head that is
emptier than a hermit's address book.

As for you: Are you sure that
you can keep my God-daughter...

...in the manner to
which she is accustomed?

Oh, yes, absolutely.

Oh, splendid!

Congratulations.
Good day.

Out!

Baldrick, I want you
to take this and go out,

and buy a turkey
so large...

...you'd think its mother
had been rogered by an omnibus.

I'm going to have a party,
and no one's invited but me.

- Cooee!
- No peace for the wicked.

Mr Ebenezer, I was wondering if you
had perhaps a little present for me.

Or had found me a little fowl
for Tiny Tom's Christmas.

I have always found you foul,
Mrs Scratchit, and more than a little.

As for Tiny Tom's Christmas,

he can stuff it up his enormous
muscular backside.

- But he's a cripple.
- He's "not" a cripple, Mrs Scratchit.

Occasionally saying, "Phew, my leg hurts"
when he remembers to wouldn't fool Baldrick.

It did, actually.

However, if you want
something for lunch, take this.

It's a pound a lump and, as luck
would have it, there are 17 lumps.

- Thank you.
- What about my Tiny Tom?

If I was you I'd scoop him out
and use him as a houseboat. Good day.

Mr B, where's the milk of human kindness?

It's gone off, Baldrick. It stinks.

Get that, and whoever it is,
slam the door in their faces,

how about I'll slam your face in the door.

Hello, small dwarf fellow.

Is this the house of
the great philanthropist...

...and all-round softy Ebenezer Blackadder?

- Well Mr Blackadder lives here.
- Ah, das ist gut.

Because we have a wunderbar secret.

What secret?

If I told you we're going to give him
an enormous fortune for being so generous,

then it would no longer be a secret.

Dem, I'm so stupid! Dem!

- What would no longer be a secret?
- We are Queen Victoria.

What? All three of you?

My dear little hobgoblin,
here is our Royal Seal.

We have come
to present your master with �50,000...

...and the title of Baron Blackadder
for being the kindest man in England.

Lumme, Your Majesty.

Baldrick, what did I tell you I'd do...

...if you didn't slam the door
on these scrounging loafers?

But, Mr Blackadder... Ow!

I'm not at home to guests.

I flatter myself
we are rather special guests, sir.

Of course, I must apologise.

It's rarely one receives a Christmas visit
from two such distinguished guests.

Ah, so you recognise us at last.

Yes, unless I'm mistaken,
you're the winner...

...of the Round Britain Shortest,
Fattest, Dumpiest Woman Competition.

And to be accompanied
by the winner of this year's

Stupidest Accent Award
is really quite overwhelming.

- I cannot believe...
- Cork it, fatso.

This is the Victorian age, where,

apart from Queen Piglet Features herself,

women and children are
to be seen and not heard.

Queen Piglet Features!

Yes! Empress Oink, as lads call her.

The only person in the kingdom
who looks dafter than her...

...is that stupid frankfurter of a husband.

The Pig and the Prig we call them.

How they ever managed to produce
their 112 children is quite beyond me.

The bedchambers of Buckingham Palace...

...must be copiously supplied
with blindfolds.

Sir, we've never been
so insulted in our lives!

Well all I can say is,
you've been damned lucky.

Ah, Baldrick, this is excellent, excellent.

All the riff-raff and
the spongers dealt with...

...and gargantuan quantities
of tuck to be gobbled.

Here, have a wishbone.
What do you wish?

I wish there was some meat on this.

Those last two were particularly satisfying.

It felt like having a go
at the real Queen and Prince Albert.

It was the real Queen and Prince Albert.

Don't be ludicrous, Baldrick.
What would the Queen be doing here?

She come to visit you to reward you
for being the nicest man in England...

...by giving you �50,000
and the title of Baron Blackadder.

It couldn't have been the Queen
because when she visits people,

she leaves her Royal Seal.

- What? Like this one?
- Yes, just like that...

# Blackadder, Blackadder

# Dee dum, dee dum, dee dum

# Blackadder, Blackadder

# Dee rum, ti tum, ti tum

# Blackadder, Blackadder

# Dee rum, ti tum, ti tum