Original subtitles

1

[SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

NARRATOR: Taking life as it comes.

Sharing the good things and the bad things.

Finding laughter and fun wherever they go.

It's with these two happy-go-lucky rogues

that our story begins.

[TIRES SQUEALING]

[CRASH]

For itis they who were run over by Alex Diamond.

International crime-fighter and playboy.

Fast-moving, tough-tafking

and just one of the hundreds of famous people

who suffer from lumbago, the endemic disease

about which no one knows more

than this man, Dr. Emile Konig.

Doctor, surgeon, proctologist,

and selfless fighter against human suffering

whose doorbell was the one above

the hero of our story tonight.

Rear Admiral Humphrey De Vere.

Yes, this is the story

of Rear Admiral Humphrey De Vere,

or rather, the story of his daughter.

For it was her courage, foresight and understanding

that enabled us fo probe beneath

the sophisticated veneer

of the Royal Arsenal Women's College, Bagshot,

and learn the true history of this man.

Len Hanky. Chiropodist, voyeur, hen-teaser.

The man of whom the chairman of Fiat once said:

[IN ITALIAN]

[PHONE RINGS]

Si.

NARRATOR: Yes, tonight we examine the career of Gino Agnelli.

The man who started from nothing

to build up one of the greatest firms in Europe.

And whose telescope was bought from the shop

part-owned by a man who, at the age of 8,

stole a penknife from the son

of this man's brother's housekeeper's

dental hygenist's uncle,

the Reverend Charlie "Drooper" Hyper-Squawk Smith.

The cleft-palated RAF chaplain

who, single-handed, shot down over 500 German chaplains.

This is the story of the men who flew with him.

If really is.

Morning, squadron leader.

What ho, Squiffy.

How was it?

Top-hole. Bally Jerry pranged his kite

right in the how's-your-father.

Hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy,

took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harpers,

and caught his can in the Bertie.

Afraid I don't quite follow you,

squadron leader.

It's perfectly ordinary banter, Squiffy.

Bally Jerry pranged his kite

right in the how's-your-father.

Hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy,

took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harpers,

and caught his can in the Bertie.

I'm just not understanding banter at all well today.

Give us it slower.

Banter's not the same if you say it slower, Squiffy.

Hold on, then. Wingco! Yes?

Bend an ear to the squadron leader's banter for a sec?

Can do. Jolly good.

Fire away.

Bally Jerry pranged his kite

right in the how's-your-father.

Hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy,

took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harpers,

and caught his can in the Bertie.

No, I don't understand that banter at all.

Something up with my banter, chaps?

[ALARM SOUNDING]

Hah. Bunch of monkeys on the ceiling, sir!

Grab your egg and fours and let's get the bacon delivered.

Do you understand that?

No, didn't get aword of it.

Sorry, old man, we don't understand your banter.

You know, bally ten-penny ones dropping in the custard.

Um, Charlie Choppers chucking a handful.

No, no, sorry.

Say it a bit slower, old chap.

Slower banter, sir?

Rather.

Um, sausage squad up the blue end.

No, still don't get it.

Um, cabbage crates coming over the briny?

ALL: No, no, no.

NARRATOR: But by then it was too late.

The first cabbage crates hit London on July the 7th.

That was just the beginning.

Five shillings a dozen?

That's ordinary cabbages, is it?

And what about the bombs?

Good Lord, they are expensive.

Sir!

Yes, what is it?

News from the Western Front, sir.

Yes?

Big enemy attack at dawn, sir.

Yes?

Well...

the enemy were all wearing little silver halos, sir,

and they had fairy wands

with big stars on the end and--

They what?

And they had spiders

in matchboxes, sir.

Good God. How did our chaps react?

Well, they were jolly interested, sir.

Some of them--

1 think it was the 4th Armored Brigade. They--

They...

Yes?

Well, they went and had a look at the spiders, sir.

Oh, my God! Well, thank you, Shirley.

Sir!

Getme the prime minister.

Sir!

Not that quickly.

Sir.

Gentlemen, it's now quite apparent that the enemy

are not only fighting this war on the cheap,

but they're also not taking it seriously.

Bastards.

First they drop cabbages instead of decent bombs--

The crates were probably expensive.

Quiet, critic!

And now they're doing very silly things in one

of the most vital areas of the war.

What are we going to do, Shirley?

Well, we've got to act fast before it saps morale.

We're gonna show these Chinese--

Germans.

These Germans.

We're gonna show them that no British soldier

will descend to their level.

Anyone found trivializing this war

will face the supreme penalty

that military law can provide.

That was all right, think?

Seemed to go quite well.

Sapper Walters, you stand before this court

accused of carrying on the war by other than warlike means.

To wit, that you did, on April the 16th, 1942,

dressed up as a bag of dainties,

flick wet towels at the enemy

during the important offensive.

Well, sir--

Shut up.

Colonel Fawcett for the prosecution.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Sir, we all know--

Shut up.

I'm sorry? Carry on.

Sir, we all know the facts of the case.

That Sapper Walters, being in possession

of expensive military equipment,

to wit, one Lee-Enfield 303 rifle

and 72 rounds of ammunition

valued at 140 pounds three shillings and sixpence,

chose instead to use wet towels

to take an enemy command post in the area of Basingstoke.

Basingstoke? Basingstoke in Hampshire?

Uh, no, no, no, sir, no.

Oh, I see, carry on.

The result of his action was that the enemy--

Basingstoke where?

Basingstoke in Westphalia, sir.

Oh, I see. Carry on.

The result of Walters' action was that the enemy

received wet patches upon their trousers

and in some cases, small, red strawberry marks

upon their thighs.

I didn't know there was a Basingstoke in Westphalia.

It's on the map, sir.

What map?

The map of Westphalia as used by the army, sir.

Well, I've certainly never heard

of Basingstoke in Westphalia.

It's a municipal borough, 27 miles

north-northeast of Southampton.

Its chief manufactures--

Southampton in Westphalia?

Yes, sir. Bricks, clothing.

Nearby are remains of Basing House,

burned down by Cromwell's cavalry

Who--? Who compiled this map?

Cole Porter, sir.

Cole Porter, who wrote "Kiss Me, Kate"?

No, alas not, sir. This was the Cole Porter

who wrote "Anything Goes," sir.

I shall seek to prove the man--

It's the same one.

♪ In olden days A glimpse of stocking ♪

I beg your pardon?

♪ In olden days A glimpse of stocking ♪

♪ Was looked on As something shocking ♪

♪ Now heaven knows Anything goes ♪

No, this one's, uh, different, sir.

How did it go?

What, sir?

How does your "Anything Goes" go?

Can I go home now?

Shut up! Come on!

Sir, really, I think this is--

Come on, how does your "Anything Goes" go?

7 Anything goes in

7 Anything goes out}

1 Fish, bananas, old pajamas Mutton, beef and trout}

7 Anything goes in-¥

No, that's not it. Carry on.

With respect, I shall prove that the man

before you in the dock

being in the possession of the following:

One pair of army boots, value, 3 pounds 7 and 6,

one pair of serge trousers, value, 2 pounds 3 and 6,

one pair of gaiters, value, 68 pounds 10 shillings, one

Sixty-eight pounds 10 shillings

for a pair of gaiters?

They were special gaiters, sir.

Special gaiters?

Yes, sir, they were made in France, sir.

One beret costing 14 shillings

What was special about them?

They were made of a special fabric, sir.

The buckles were made of

empire silver instead of brass.

The total value of the uniform was--

Why was the accused wearing special gaiters?

They were a presentation pair, sir, from the regiment.

The total value of the uniform--

Why did they present him

with a special pair of gaiters?

Sir, it seems to me totally irelevant to the case

whether the gaiters were presented to him or not.

The court will be able to judge that for themselves.

I want to know why the regiment

presented the accused

with a special pair of gaiters.

He used to do things for them, sir.

The total value of the uniform--

What things?

He used to oblige them, sir.

The total value

Oblige them?

Yes, sir. The total value of the uniform--

How did he oblige them?

What, sir?

How did he oblige them?

He, um, he used to make them happy in little ways, sir.

The total value of the uniform could--

Did he touch them at all?

Sir! I submit that this is totally irelevant.

I want to know how he made them happy.

He used to ram things up their--!

Allright! All right!

No need to spell it out.

What has the accused got to say?

What, me?

Yes. What have you got to say?

What can I say, sir?

I mean, how can I encapsulate in mere words

my scom for any military solution?

The futility of modern warfare,

and the hypocrisy by which

contemporary government applies one standard

to violence within the community and another

to violence perpetrated by one community upon another?

I'm sorry, but my client has become pretentious.

I will say in his defense--

We haven't finished the prosecution!

Shut up! I'm in charge of this court, Stand up.

Sit down! Go "moo."

ALL: Moo.

See? Right, now, on with the pixie hats.

And order in the skating vicar.

And...

♪ Anything goes in Anything goes out ♪

1 Fish, bananas, old pajamas Mutton, beef and trout}

♪ Anything goes in Anything goes out ♪

1 Fish, bananas, old pajamas Mutton, fish and trout

ANNOUNCER: Yes! Coming to this cinema soon.

The tender, compassionate story

of one man's love for another man in drag.

[SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

Thrill to the excitement of a night emission over Germany.

When the pilot, Jennifer, has fo choose

between his secret love for Louis,

the hot-bloodedly bisexual navigator,

and Andy, the rear gunner,

who, though quite assertive with girls,

tends to take the submissive role

in his relationships with men.

And sensational Mexican starlet Rosetta Nixon

plays the head of bomber command

whose passion for sea birds ends in tragedy.

With Ginger

as the half-man, half-woman parrot

whose unnatural instincts

brought forbidden love to the aviary.

And Roger as Pip, the half-parrot,

half-man, half-woman,

three-quarter badger, ex-bigamist,

Negro preacher for whom banjo playing was difficult.

And he never mastered i, though he took courses

and went to banjo college, ah, and everything.

Don't miss it! Coming to your cinema soon.

Only five minutes from this restaurant.

But now...

Its...

1

fl

Bloody repeats.

[ELECTRICITY BUZZING]

Ahh!

Yes. Repeats or war films.

It really makes you want to micturate.

People on television

treat the general public like idiots.

Well, we are idiots.

Oh, no, we are not!

Well, I am.

How do you know you're an idiot?

Oh, I can show you.

How?

Look.

[WHOOPING]

You see, the public are idiots.

You might as well just show them

the last five miles of the M2.

They'd watch it, eh?

At last they done been put on something interesting.

Oh, most interesting.

- We certainly ought to show something what, like, which,

what we are about, to,

(audience laughs)

Oh, sorry, I got lost in that sentence.

Mrs. Elizabeth the third, could you help me out?

- Oh, certainly, how far have you got?

- How far had I become.

- Oh, of course, so sorry.

How far had you become.

What?

Hello.

- Hello?

- How far?

- How far what?

- What?

- Let's just watch the motorway.

- Yes, let's.

(engines roar)

- I think that was the gist of what I was just about

to be done being saying that I was.

- Oh, don't start again, dear, please.

Our figures show conclusively that these motorways

are extremely popular.

I mean, last time we showed a repeat

of the Leicester Bypass,

our ratings gave us 97, 300, 912

and [TV naught.

So I do feel that we ought to give

B roads their own series.

I'm sorry, we just can't give you a bigger budget.

Budgie?

No, he's left I think.

Why not?

Well, we're only one slice of the cake, you know.

Wouldn't mind a slice of cake.

Nice chocolate cake, delicious.

I'had a budgie once, you know. Lovely little budgie.

Amusing little chap. Used to stick his head in a bell.

What was his name, now?

Uh, Joey? Uh, Xerxes?

We could repeat them.

Reheat them?

No, repeat them.

You don't reheat cakes. Not chocolate cakes.

What, repeat the cakes?

Mr. Heath. What?

That was the name of the budgie.

Good Lord, the bar's open.

Oh, great.

Oh, no. No, itisn'.

I was looking at the little hand

that goes round awfully fast.

Blast.

I've got it. We can retitle the repeats.

What, give them different names?

Wouldn't that mean retitling them?

Brilliant!

Right. All we need is new titles.

And they must be damn new.

How about Dad's Navy?

Good, good, good.

Up Your Mother Next Door.

Even better.

Doctor at Bee.

What? [KNOCK ON DOOR]

Someone's knocking at the door.

Quite like it. Bit long, though, I think.

Far too long.

I Married Lucy.

Hasn't that been done?

Oh, yes, a long time ago, though.

They'd never remember it.

Doctor at Three.

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

I think someone's knocking at the door.

That's even longer.

I Married a Tree.

And Mother Makes Tree.

Doctor at Cake.

Look, I'm not absolutely certain,

but well, I do rather get the impression

there is someone knocking on the door at this very moment.

That's ridiculous. Half the program gone.

Stop playing games!

I Married a Cake.

I Married Three Rabbit Jelty Molds.

Prefer cake. Especially chocolate cake.

MAN: Open the sodding door!

No, no. You can't say "sodding"

on television. No, no.

You're supposed to knock!

Sorry, sir, but there's trouble at Studio 5.

You're in, uh, Security, are you?

Yes, sir.

Well, you're not allowed to suggest program titles.

-lam!

I've been in light entertainment, L-E,

for the last 25 cakes.

Years.

(audience laughs)

Well, I'm fed up with pusillanimous,

chocolate, pompous asses, like you,

who doth donut, donut, jamming them in.

- It's terrible trouble at studio five, sir!

- Never did like cripples, too damn disturbing.

- Chuffing fun.

- Good television though.

- Really?

- My auntie had a budgie.

Funny little chap, what was his name now?

Philemon?

- [Man] Chocolate!

- Aristotle, Cripping?

Cripple, Cripple that's it.

Half a beak, no wing, funny little chap.

He died, of course, she trod on him.

Terrible noise, he went, (squawks)

- What?

- Sure. (squawks)

- Blind people are the worst,

tapping on the legs with their sticks.

Not very funny.

(groaning)

- It's a world war, sir.

-No, no, no, cripples're the worst.

Those damn wheeled chairs.

They only do it to attract attention, you know.

Hangdog expressions. (retches)

- Mind you, I should know.

The wife's in an iron lung.

- I married an iron lung!

- No, I married an iron lung.

- And mother makes iron lungs.

- God's truth, iron lungs.

It's the World War series in Studio 5.

They're not taking it seriously anymore.

You're not allowed to suggest program titles.

Look!

Ahh! Mind me war wound!

That's it! That's the one.

Very good title. Very good.

7 Fish, bananas, old pajamas ♪

God! Bloody World War Il series.

I hate them.

Qoh, always the same, so damn predictable.

Depressing, miserable.

Day after day after day after day.

Oh. Oh, evening star, if only we could

have a decent day tomorrow.

Oh, this weather's so wretched and awful and filthy and

[SNORING]

[RATTLING]

What? What? What's going on? What the hell is going?

Now I can't even sleep.

[BUZZING]

What? What are they doing?

[BUZZING, CLANGING]

[GASPS]

What was that? What was it? What is going on?

Oh, I can't stand it.

[NOISE FADES]

Oh...

[SNORING]

[CLOCK RINGING]

Oh! All right, that does it. That does it!

[GRUMBLING]

What a lovely day.

Oh, I think I'm gonna just...

[YAWNS, SNORES]

[AIRPLANE HUMMING]

1

I say.

Yes, Daddy?

Croquet hoops look damn pretty this afternoon.

Frightfully damn pretty.

They're coming along awfully well this year.

Yes, better than your Aunt Lavinia's croquet hoops.

Oh, dreadful tin things.

I did tell her to stick to wood.

Yes, you can't beat wood.

"Gorn."

What's "gorn," dear?

Nothing, nothing, just like the word.

It gives me confidence.

Gorn. Gorn. It's got a sort of woody quality about it.

Gorn. Gorn.

Much better than "newspaper" or "litter bin."

Oh, frightful words.

Perfectly dreadful.

Uh, "newspaper," "litter bin." Dreadful tinny sort of words.

[SCREAMS]

Tin, tin, tin.

Oh, dear, don't say "tin" to Rebecca,

you know how it upsets her.

Sorry, old horse.

Sausage.

There's a good woody sort of word, "sausage."

[CHUCKLES] Gorn.

Antelope!

Where? On the lawn?

No, no, Daddy, just the word.

Don't want antelope nibbling the hoops.

No, no, "antelope." Sort of nice and woody type of thing.

Don't think so, Becky, old chap.

No, no. "Antelope,"

"antelope," tinny sort of word.

[SCREAMS] Oh, sorry, old man.

Really, Mansfield.

Well, she's got to come to terms with these things.

Seemly, prodding,

vacuum, leap.

Qoh, hate "leap."

Perfectly dreadful.

Sort of PVC sort of word, don't you know.

Lower-middle.

Bound.

Now you're talking.

Bound, vole, recidivist.

Bit tinny.

[SCREAMS]

Oh, sorry, Becky, old beast.

Oh, dear. I suppose she'll be gor for a few days now.

Caribou.

Splendid word!

No, dear, nibbling the hoops.

Caribou gorn.

Intercourse.

Later, dear.

No, no, no. The word “intercourse.”

Good and woody. Intercourse.

Pert, pert thighs. Botty, botty, boty.

Oh, erogenous zone.

Oh, concubine. Erogenous zone.

Loose woman. Erogenous zone--

Oh.

Oh, thank you, dear.

Uh, you know, it's a funny thing, dear,

all the naughty words sound woody.

Really, dear?

How about "it"?

Oh, dear, I hadn't thought about that.

Tit, tit. Oh, that's very tinny, isn't it? Tit, fit.

Uh, tinny, tinny, tinny. [SCREAMS]

Oh, dear.

Qcelot.

Wasp.

Yowling.

Oh, dear, I'm bored.

I'd better go and have a bath, I suppose.

Oh, really, must you, dear? You've had nine today.

All right, I'l sack one of the servants.

Simpkins! Nasty, tinny sort of name. Simpkins!

I say, mater, cabbage crates coming over the briny.

Sorry, dear, don't understand.

Uh, cow-catchers creeping up on the conning towers.

No, sorry, old sport.

Um, caribou nibbling at the croquet hoops.

Yes, Mansfield shot one in the antlers.

Oh, jolly good show. Is Becca about?

No, she's “gon orff."

Oh, what a super woody sort of phrase, "gorn off."

Yes, she's gor orff because Mansfield said "tin" to her.

Oh, what rotten luck.

Yeah, well, whole afternoon to kill.

Better have a bath, I suppose.

Oh, Gervaise, do sing me a song.

Oh, okay.

Something woody.

♪ For she's going to marry Yum Yum ♪

Oh, crikey. Old song's finished her off.

What's "up"?

Urp?

What's up?

Oh, I'm afraid Mrs. Vermin Jones

appears to have passed on.

Dead, is she? Afraid so.

What a blow for her.

What I want to know, Mrs. Elizabeth lI,

is why they show us crap like this

when there's bits of the Leicester Bypass

what have never been shown. Biscuit?

Oh, thank you.

[ELECTRICITY BUZZING]

MAN: Appearing on the M2 were 4,281 Vauxhall Vivas

2,117 Vauxhall Vivas defuxe--

Bloody repeats.

Bloody repeats.

Repeats or war films. Makes you want to

MAN: Hello and welcome to Show Jumping from-

Oh, motocross.

-just about to go info a jump-off against the clock.

The slight pause is for the stewards

who are repairing The Sound of Music.

Captain Phillips on Streuth

caught one of the nuns at the start of

what would've been a fine, clear round.

It's a formidable obstacle, this Sound of Music.

Eight nuns high, they're ready now and singing.

[BELL SOUNDS]

And there's the bell.

She's got 1.07 seconds to beat,

but she needs a clear round to win

as she comes towards The Sound of Music--

Quite exciting.

Beautifully taken. And now she needs

fo pick up speed for Oklahoma,

but not too much.

This is where Alan Jones knocked down poor Jud.

You notice how you never actually see the horses jump?

Superb. Superb show jumping.

She's coming up to the black-and-white minstrel show.

Watch this.

♪ .~music and dance ♪

And she's taken it. She's over the minstrels.

She just flicked Leslie Crowther with her tail.

The time's good, and now she turns

before coming into the final jump.

This is a tough one. It's Ben-Hur.

Forty-six chariots, 6000 spectators,

400 sfaves, fions--

I bet we don't see this one.

We interrupt show jumping to bring you a news flash.

The Second World War has now entered a sentimental stage.

This morning on the Ardennes front

the Germans started spooning at dawn.

But the British Fifth Army responded

by gazing deep into their eyes,

and the Germans are now reported to have gone all coy.

I When does a dream begin? ♪

7 Does it start with a Goodnight kiss? ♪

♪ Is it conceived Or simply achieved? ♪

I When does a dream begin? ♪

♪ ithorn In a moment of bliss? ♪

♪ Oris it begun When two hearts are one? ♪

I When does a dream exist?

♪ The vision of you Appears somehow ♪

I impossible fo resist

♪ But I'm not Imagining seeing you ♪

1 For who could have Dreamed of this? §

I When does a dream begin? ♪

I When reality is dismissed? ♪

♪ Or does it commence When we lose all pretense? ♪

I When does a dream begin? ♪