Original subtitles

In this picture, there are 47 people.

None of them can be seen.

In this film, we hope to show you how not to be seen.

This is Mr. E.R. Bradshaw of Napier Court, Black Lion Road, London, SE14.

He cannot be seen.

Now, I'm going to ask him to stand up. Mr. Bradshaw, will you stand up, please?

This demonstrates the value of not being seen.

In this picture, we cannot see Mrs. B.J. Smegma of 13, the Crescent, Belmont.

Mrs. Smegma, will you stand up, please?

This is Mr.

Nesbitt of Harlow, Newtown. Mr. Nesbitt, will you stand up, please?

Mr. Nesbitt has learned the first lesson of not being seen, not to stand up.

However, he has chosen a very obvious piece of cover.

Mr. E.W. Lambert of Homely, the boroughs, Oswestry, has presented us

with a poser. We do not know which bush he is behind, but we can soon find out.

Yes, it was the middle one.

Mr. and Mrs. Watson of Hull chose a very cunning way of not being seen. When we

called at their house, we found that they had gone away on two weeks'

holiday. However, a neighbor told us where they were.

And here is the neighbor who told us where they were.

And here is where he lived.

And this... Here's where he was born.

And now for something completely different.

Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize that the feature was not quite as long as

we'd anticipated.

Therefore, there will be a short interval.

In the meantime, we are pleased to be able to show you a short film starring a

man with a tape recorder up his nose.

And now, a film starring a man with a tape recorder of his brother's news.

Thank you. That is the end of the interval. Will you kindly return to your

seats? We will now be proceeding with the program as advertised.

In 1971, the British Empire lay in ruins.

Foreigners frequented the streets, many of them Hungarians.

Not these streets, the foreign nations.

Anyway, many of these Hungarians went into tobacconists to buy cigarettes.

Here you are, sir.

Thank you.

Morning, sir.

I will not buy this record.

It is scratched.

I'm sorry?

I will not buy this record.

It is scratched.

No, no, no. This is a tobacconist's.

Tobacconist's. I will not buy this tobacconist's. It is scratched.

No, no.

Tobacco.

Cigarettes. Cigarettes? Cigarettes. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

My hovercraft is full of eels.

What? My hovercraft is full of eels.

Ah, matches.

Yeah, yeah, matches.

Do you want?

Do you want?

Want, ah.

Do you want to come back to my place bouncy, bouncy?

That'll be six shillings, please.

If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me? I am no

longer infected.

May I? May I?

Yeah, yeah. It costs six shillings.

Six shillings.

What's all this in? Ah, you have beautiful thighs.

What? He hit me.

Drop your panties, Sir Arthur. I cannot wait till lunchtime.

Right! Oh, my nipples explode with delight.

The Hungarian gentleman was subsequently released, but it was his information

that led to the arrest and trial of the real culprit.

I am.

You are hereby charged that on the 28th day of May, you did willfully and with

malice of forethought... publish an alleged English-Hungarian phrasebook

with intent to cause a breach of the peace.

How do you plead?

Not guilty.

Mr. York, on the 28th of May, you published this phrasebook.

I did. With your lordship's permission, I would like to quote an example.

The Hungarian phrase meaning, can you direct me to the railway station, is

here translated by the English phrase...

Please fondle my buttocks.

Please fondle my buttocks.

Ah, yes. It's past the post office, 200 yards down, and then left at the lights.

Hmm.

Let's...

Meanwhile, not far away, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Putey were about to enter an

unfamiliar office.

guidance, counsellor?

Yes. Good morning. Morning.

And good morning to you, madam.

Name? Mr and Mrs Arthur Pewty.

And what is the name of your ravishing wife?

Wait.

Don't tell me it's...

It's something to do with moonlight.

It goes with her eyes. It's soft and gentle, warm and yielding,

deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny white rabbit.

It's Deirdre.

Deirdre.

What a beautiful name.

What a beautiful... beautiful name.

And what seems to be the trouble with your marriage, Mr. Pewty?

Well, it all started when we first went to Brighton on holiday together. Deidre,

that's my wife and I. I've always been very close companions, and I never

particularly anticipated any marital strife. Indeed, the very idea of

consulting a professional marital advisor has always been of the greatest

repugnance to me. Although, far be it from me to impugn the nature of your

trade or... or profession.

I was saying Deidre and I have always been very close companions, sharing the

interests, the gardening, the sixpenny bottle for the holiday money, and

indeed, twice a month of an evening, settling down to do the accounts

together, something which Deidre, that's my wife, and I particularly look forward

to on account of her feet.

I should perhaps have said at the outset that I'm noted for having a grand sense

of humour, although I've kept myself very much to myself over the last couple

of years notwithstanding, and it's only as comparatively recently as recently

that I've begun to realise...

Well, perhaps realise is too strong a word.

Imagine that I was not the only thing in her life.

You suspected your wife?

Well... Frankly, yes.

A bit.

Her behaviour did seem to me... Her behaviour did seem to me, who was after

all there to see, to be a little odd.

Well, to a certain extent, yes. Now, I'm not by nature a suspicious person. Far

from it. In fact, I've got something of the reputation of an afternoon speaker,

if you get my meaning.

Yes, I certainly do. And indeed, in the area where people know me, I'm in fact

very well known.

Fine.

Would you... Yes, certainly. So I decided it was time to face the facts.

Stop beating about the bush, or I'd never be able to look myself in the

bathroom mirror again.

Look, would you mind running along for ten minutes? Make it 20 minutes, all

right? Yes.

I'll wait outside, shall I?

Yes, that's perhaps the best thing.

Certainly set my mind at rest on one or two scores there.

Arthur Putey, are you a man?

Or a mouse.

You've been running too long, Arthur Pewty. It's time to stop. Time to turn

and fight like a man.

Go back in there, Arthur Pewty. Go back in there and pull your finger out.

Yes.

Yes, you're right.

This is it, Arthur Pewty.

This is your moment, Arthur Pewty.

Cut. That's it. We're not going to allow this sort of smut on the screen.

This depraved and degrading spectacle is going to stop right now. Do you hear me?

Stop it.

Just when it was getting good.

Evening, squire.

You married?

Yes. I'm a bachelor myself.

Is your wife a goer?

Know what I mean?

Nudge, nudge. Say no more.

Beg your pardon?

Your wife, does she go?

Know what I mean? Does she go?

She sometimes goes. I bet she does.

Say no more.

Know what I mean? Nudge, nudge.

I'm afraid I don't quite follow you. Follow me.

That's good.

And nods as good as a wink to a blind bat.

Look, are you selling something?

Selling, selling.

Very good, very good. Know what I mean?

Oh, wicked!

You're wicked, you're wicked, eh? Nudge, nudge.

Nods as good as a wink to a blind bat.

But, uh... Your wife, uh, a sport, eh? She likes sport, yes.

I bet she does. I bet she does.

She's very fond of cricket.

Who isn't, eh? Who isn't? Likes games.

Knew she would. Knew she would.

Who doesn't, eh? She's been around a bit, eh? Been around.

Yeah, she's travelled. She's from Purley. Oh, say no more, say no more,

say no more, Purley. Say no more.

Know what I mean? Say no more.

Ah.

Your wife interested in, er, photography, eh?

Photographs, eh?

He asked him knowingly.

Photography? Yeah. Snap, snap, grin, grin, wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no

more. Oh, holiday stamps.

Could be.

Could be taking on holiday, could be.

Swimming costumes?

Nudge nudge?

Candid? Candid photography?

No, I'm afraid we don't have a camera. Oh.

Still.

Look,

are you trying to insinuate something?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Yes.

Well? Well, I mean, you're a man of the world, aren't you? I mean, you know,

you've been around, you've been there.

What do you mean?

Well, I mean, like, you've, uh, you know, you've, uh, you've done it, uh,

with a lady. You've slept with a lady.

Yes.

What's it like?

Well, I think it's overrated.

Shut up, you!

Good evening, Cross.

Good evening.

Where's all the others, then?

I can see that.

Perhaps they've got flu.

Flu?

We should eat more fresh fruit.

Right, now, self-defense.

Tonight I shall be carrying on from where we got to last week when I was

showing you how to defend yourselves against anyone who attacks you armed

with a piece of fresh fruit.

You promised we wouldn't do fruit this week.

What do you mean?

Well, we've done fresh fruit for the last nine weeks. What's wrong with

fruit? You think you know it all, eh?

Can't we try something else? Like someone who attacks you with a pointed

stick? Pointed stick?

Oh, oh, oh. We want to learn how to defend ourselves against pointed sticks,

do we?

Get in all...

homicidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries don't come cry to

me right and now the passion fruit when your assailant

lunges at you with a passion fruit and us we've done the passion fruit what

we've done the passion fruit we've done oranges apples grapefruits whole and

segments green gauges pomegranates grapes passion fruit lemons

And mangoes in syrup.

How about cherries?

We done them.

Red and black?

Yes.

All right, then.

Bananas.

We haven't done bananas, have we?

No.

Right. How do you defend yourself against a man armed with a banana?

Catch. Now, it's quite simple to deal with a banana fiend.

First of all, you force him to drop the banana.

Then, you eat the banana, thus disarming him.

You have now rendered him helpless.

Suppose he's got a bunch.

Shut up!

Suppose he's got a pointed stick.

Shut up!

Right, now you, Mr. Apricot. Harrison.

Sorry, Mr. Harrison.

Cover me with that banana.

Come on, be as vicious as you like with it. Come on, attack me. Come on.

Put something into it, for God's... Hold the banana like that.

That's better. Now scream.

Good. Right. Now attack me.

Come on, man. Attack me.

Next, I eat the banana.

Now, I would just like to point out that this film is displaying a distinct

tendency to become silly.

Now... Nobody likes a good laugh more than I do.

Except perhaps my wife and some of her friends.

Oh, yes, and Captain Johnson.

Come to think of it, most people like a good laugh more than I do, but that's

beside the point.

I'm warning this film not to get silly again.

Right. Now, director, on the command, cut, cut to the next scene.

Director? This is a frightened city. Wait for it.

This is a frightened city. Over these streets, over these houses hangs a pall

of fear.

An ugly kind of violence is rife, stalking the town.

Yes, gangs of old ladies attacking fit, defenseless young men.

Well, they just come up to you and push you like, you know, shove you off the

pavement. There's usually about four or five of them.

Yeah, sometimes there's three or four of them.

It's not even safe to go out down to the shops anymore.

Grannies are no respecter of race, creed or sex.

Theirs is a harsh, ruthless world, a tough world, a world in which the

surgical stocking is king.

But what are they in it for, these senile delinquents, these layabouts in

lace? Oh, the violence. The prestige, mainly.

The free gifts.

Putting the knee in the groin. We like pulling the heads off sheep.

And tea cakes.

We have a lot of trouble with these grannies.

Pension day is the worst.

Soon as they get it, they blow the lot. On milk, tea, sugar, a tin of meat for

the cat.

The whole...

The crux of the problem lies in the basic dissatisfaction of these senile

delinquents with the world as they find it. They begin to question the values of

their society.

They see their sons and daughters growing up to become accountants,

solicitors, sociologists even, and they begin to wonder, is it all worth it? Is

it all...

Another prime target for vandalism is telephone boxes.

But mostly, they just live for kicks.

But there are other kinds of violence abroad.

Other gangs equally vicious, equally determined, such as the Baby Snatchers.

I left him outside for a few moments while I got some Brillo pads.

When I came back, he was gone.

He was only 48.

And also, vicious gangs of keep-left signs.

Right, stop that.

It's silly.

Very silly indeed.

It started off as a nice little idea about old ladies attacking young men,

but now it's just got silly.

His hair's too long for a vicar, too.

And you can tell those are not proper keep-left signs.

Clear off, the lot of you!

You, come with me.

Right, now let's see something decent and military. Some precision drilling.

Squad, camp it up!

Who gets her whoops? I've got your number back. You couldn't afford me,

dear.

Right,

stop that.

Silly.

And a bit suspect, I think.

Time for a cartoon.

Once upon a time, there was an enchanted prince who ruled the land beyond the

wobbles.

One day, he discovered a spot on his face.

Foolishly, he ignored it, and three years later, he died of cancer.

The spot, however, flourished and soon set out to seek its fortune.

blah blah blah

Did you just see who moved in next door?

Yes, black as the ace of spades they were.

Next, please.

One at a time, please.

There is only me, sir.

So there is.

Take a, um... Seat? Seat. Seat. Take a seat.

So, you want to join my mountaineering expedition, do you?

Who, me, sir?

Yes, I'd very much like to, sir. Jolly good.

And how about you?

There is only me, sir.

Well, bang goes his application, sir.

Now, let me fill you in. I'm leading this expedition, and we're going to

climb both peaks of Mount Kilimanjaro.

I thought there was only one pizza.

Well, that'll save a bit of time.

Well done.

Now, the object of this year's expedition is to see if we can find any

trace of last year's expedition.

Last year's expedition.

Yes, my brother was leading that. They were going to...

Build a bridge between the two peaks.

My dear, I'm afraid.

Now, I ought to tell you that I have practically everyone that I need for

this expedition, but what special qualifications do you have?

Well, sir... Yes, you first.

There is only me, sir. I wasn't talking to you.

Carry on.

Well, sir, I'm a fully qualified mountaineer.

Mountaineer?

Mouse. Moon.

Mountaineer.

Two men skilled at climbing a mountain.

What? Janet.

That'll be useful.

Well, you're in.

Congratulations.

Both of you.

Now, what are your names?

Arthur Wilson.

Arthur... Wilson.

Mm-hmm.

Well, look, I'll call you Arthur Wilson 1 and you Arthur Wilson 2, just to avoid

confusion.

Are you actually leading this expedition, sir? Yes, we are leading

this expedition to Africa.

And what routes will you both be following?

Good questions.

Well, we'll be leaving on one or other of the January the 22nds and taking the

following routes.

From Manchester's down through Oxford's, taking the M1s through London's to

Purley's, then the A25s from Purley's to Dover's.

Thence Africa-ish, to Nairobi's. Then we take the south roads out of Nairobi's

for about 12 miles and then ask.

Does anyone speak Swahili, sir? Oh, yes, I think most of them do down there.

No, does anyone in our party speak Swahili, sir?

Well, Matron's got a smattering. Apart from the two Matrons.

Good Lord, I'd forgotten about her.

Well, apart from them, who else is coming on our expedition, sir? Well,

we've got the Arthur Brown twins, two botanists called Matron.

The William Johnston brothers?

Two of them.

No, four of them, pair of identical twins.

Two of the Harry Baker quads, and you two.

And none of these are mountaineers.

Well, you two are, and we've got a brace of guides called Jimmy Blankensop,

because Kilimanjaro is a pretty tricky climb.

Most of it's up till you reach the very, very top, and then it tends to slope

away rather sharply.

But Jimmy's put his heads together and worked out a way up. Jimmy!

Jimmy Blankensop, Arthur Wilson, Arthur Wilson, Jimmy Blankensop. Jimmy

Blankensop 2, Arthur Wilson 2, Arthur Wilson 2, Jimmy Blankensop 1.

Carry on, Jimmy.

Don't worry about the, uh... We'll get him up, all right?

Well, I suppose I better describe the route.

Well, we start off quite simply up Kilimanjaro... Quite simple. No problem

there, basically.

And then...

And we go on to the main stage itself of Killing Man tomorrow. It's a bit

difficult here because there's a bit of loose rock.

I want to get away from that loose rock. There's a tremor there.

There's a difficult...

I'm afraid I shall be coming on your expedition, sir, as I have absolutely no

confidence in anyone involved in it.

Oh, dear.

Well, what about you?

Well, I'm game, sir.

And now for something completely different.

Inspector! Inspector!

Yes, sir? I was sitting on a park bench just now and I put my coat down. When I

picked it up again, I found my wallet had gone and £15 had been stolen.

Did you see anyone?

No, no-one at all.

Little we can do about that, sir.

Do you want to come back to my place?

Yeah, all right.

Miss Spume returned to her typing and dreamed her little dreamy dreams,

unaware of the cruel trick fate had in store for her.

For Miss Spume was about to fall victim of the dreaded international Chinese

communist conspiracy.

Yes, these fanatical fiends, under the leadership of the so-called Mao Tse

-Tung, had caught Miss Spume off guard for one brief but fatal moment.

destroyed her.

Just as they are ready to go anytime, free men anywhere, waver in their

defense of democracy.

Yes, once again, American defense proved its effectiveness against international

communism.

With this diagram of a tooth to represent any small country, we can see

how international communism works by eroding away from within.

When one country or tooth falls victim to international communism, its

neighbors soon follow.

In dentistry, this is known as the domino theory.

But with American defense, the decay is stopped before it starts.

That's why nine out of ten small countries choose American defense.

Or Krelm toothpaste with the miracle ingredient fraudulin.

The white car represents Krelm toothpaste with the miracle ingredient

fraudulin. The not-white car represents another toothpaste.

Yes, both cars provide 30% protection.

At 60% protection, both cars are doing well.

And now at 90% protection... Wait!

The not-white car is out! And Kralm Toothpaste goes on to win with 100%

protection. Yes, do like all smart motorists. Choose Kralm Toothpaste.

Or Shrill Petrol with the new additive GLC9424075.

After 6 p.m., 9424047.

Using this white card to represent engine deposits and this black card to

represent Shrill's new additive GLC9424075.

After 6 p.m., 942-4047.

We can see how the engine deposits are pushed off the face of the earth by the

superior forces available to shoot.

This is the police.

We know you're in there, so come out with your hands up.

You'll never take me alive, copper.

Oh, all right, then.

Sergeant.

and his dancing team.

Thank you, thank you, Conrad Poos and his exploding teeth.

A smile, two fangs, and an excuse me.

And next tonight, gentlemen and ladies, here at the peephole club for the very

first time, we're very proud to welcome Ken Ewing and his musical mice.

Thank you, thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am in this box 23 white mace.

Mace. which I have painstakingly trained over the past few years to squeak at a

selected pitch.

This one is E sharp, and this one is G.

G, E sharp. You get the general idea.

Now, these mace are so arranged upon this rack that when played in the

correct order, they will squeak three blinded white mace.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, on the mouse organ, three blinded white mace.

Thank you.

edition of It's the Arts and we kick off this evening with a look at the cinema.

One of the most prolific film directors of this age or indeed of any age is Sir

Edward Ross.

Back in this country for the first time for five years to open a season of his

films at the National Film Theatre and we are indeed fortunate to have him with

us in the studio this evening.

Good evening.

Edward, you don't mind if I call you Edward?

No, not at all. No, because it does seem to worry some people.

I'm not quite sure why, perhaps I'm a little sensitive, so I do take the

precaution of asking on these occasions.

No, no, that's fine. So, Edward, it is. Splendid.

Sorry to have brought it up.

No, no, Edward, it is. Well, thank you very much indeed for being so helpful.

I mean, sometimes it's more than my job's worth.

Quite. It makes it rather difficult to establish a rapport, to put the other

person at his ease.

Quite. Quite.

Sooner the point, but it does seem to matter.

Still, the less said, the better.

Um... Ted, when you first went in the film, you don't mind if I call you Ted?

I mean, as opposed to Edward.

No, no, everyone calls me Ted. Splendid. Of course, it's much shorter, isn't it?

Yes, it is. Much less formal.

Yes, Ted, Edward, anything.

Splendid.

Incidentally, do call me Tom. I don't want you bothering with any of this

Thomas nonsense.

Fine, where were we? Ah, yes, Eddie Baby, when you first started... I'm

sorry, I'm sorry, I don't like being called Eddie Baby.

I don't like being called Eddie Baby.

Now get on with the interview.

Did I call you Eddie Baby?

Yes, you did.

I don't think I did call you Eddie Baby. Did I call him Eddie Baby?

Yes, you did.

I didn't really call you Eddie Baby, did I, sweetie?

Don't call me sweetie.

Can I call you Sugar Plum? No.

Pussycat? No.

Angel Drawers?

No, you may not.

Now get on with it. Can I call you Frank?

Why Frank?

Frank's a nice name.

President Nixon's got a hedgehog called Frank.

Frank. What is going on? Frank. Frankie. Fan.

Fanny. Little Fanny Boo.

Right, that's it. I'm leaving.

Had enough of this. I've never been so insulted.

Tell us about your latest film, Sir Edward.

What? Tell us about your latest film, Sir Edward, if you'd be so kind.

None of this pussycat nonsense.

Promise.

Please, sir Edward.

My latest film? Yes, sir.

Well, I first had the idea, funnily enough, when I first joined the industry

in 1919.

Of course, in those days, I was only a tea boy. Oh, shut up!

There he is!

The room is full of milkmen, some of whom are

very old.

This man is Ernest Scribbler, manufacturer of jokes.

In a few moments, he will think of the funniest joke in the world, and as a

result, he will die.

Laughing.

It was obvious the joke was lethal.

No one could read it and live.

Scribbler's mother, alarmed by the unusual sounds of meddlement, entered

the room and found what was apparently a suicide note.

Yes, the war against the Hun continues, and as Britain's brave boys battle

against the Bosch, their leaders are on the lookout for new breakthroughs that

could provide the ultimate weapon in the war against the Hun.

And here, in this little house in Finchley, they think maybe they've found

it. It's a joke so deadly, it could have Fritz's forces falling about.

Tests on Salisbury Plain confirm the joke's devastating effectiveness at a

range of up to 50 yards.

All through the winter of 43, we had translators working in joke-proof

conditions to try and manufacture a German version of the joke.

They worked on one word each for greater safety.

One of them saw two words by mistake and had to spend several weeks in hospital,

but apart from that, things went ahead pretty fast, and by January, we had the

joke in a form which our troops couldn't understand, but which the Germans could.

So, on July 8th, 1944, the joke was first told to the enemy in the Ardennes.

The German casualties were appalling.

It was a fantastic success, over 80,000 times as powerful as Britain's great pre

-war joke which was used at Munich, and one which Hitler couldn't match.

for the rather poor taste of the previous item. Um,

excuse me, please.

Stay close. Stay together. Don't lag behind.

Come on, keep together, everybody.

Remember, watch out for the killer cars.

Yes,

the killer cars.

For years, the city had been plagued by ever-increasing pedestrian congestion.

In an attempt to eliminate this problem, certain fanatical cars had taken the law

into their own hands.

Oh,

thank you, thank you. You've saved our city.

But at what cost?

Just then.

As it looked for certain that the city was about to be eaten, the earth

trembled, and the sun was blotted out from the sky.

Cool. Right.

Suddenly, swarms of giant bees filled the air, and 300 million armoured

horsemen, covered with coats of a thousand different colours, appeared at

every street corner attacking the monster cat in a scene of such

spectacular proportions that it could never in your life be seen in a low

-budget film like this.

If you notice, my mouth isn't moving either.

But... Just as the monster cat was starting to weaken, the earth split

apart with a deafening roar and...

I wish to register a complaint.

Hello, miss.

What do you mean, miss?

Oh, I'm sorry. I have a cold.

I wish to make a complaint.

Oh, sorry. We're closing for lunch.

Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this pallet.

What I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.

Oh, yes, sir. The Norwegian blue.

What's wrong with it?

I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad.

It's dead. That's what's wrong with it.

No, no, it's resting.

Look.

Look, my lad, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking at one right

now. No, that's not dead. It's resting.

Resting?

Yeah, resting.

Remarkable bird, the Norwegian blue, isn't it? Beautiful plumage.

The plumage don't enter into it.

It's stone dead.

No, it's resting.

All right, then. If it's resting, I'll wake it up.

Yes, you did.

Hello, Foddy.

Wakey, wakey.

Rise and shine.

This is your nine o'clock alarm call.

Now, that's what I call a dead parrot.

No, he's stunned.

Stunned? Yeah, you stunned him just as he was waking up.

Norwegian blues stun easily.

I've had enough of this.

That parrot is definitely deceased.

And when I bought it not half an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack

of movement was due to it being tired and shagged out after a long squawk.

Why, it's pining for the fjords.

Pining for the fjords?

What kind of talk is that?

Look, why did it fall flat on its back the moment I got it home?

Why, the Norwegian blue prefers kipping on its back.

Beautiful plumage.

Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot, and I discovered that the

only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it

had been nailed there.

Oh, but of course it was nailed there.

I mean, if I hadn't nailed it there, it would have muscled up to those bars and

boom!

Look here, mate.

This parrot wouldn't boom if you put 4,000 volts through it.

It's bleeding demised.

No, it's pining.

It's not pining.

It's passed on.

This parrot is no more.

It has ceased to be.

It's expired and gone to see its maker. This is a late parrot.

It's a stiff, bereft of life. It rests in peace.

If you hadn't nailed it to the... Perch, it would be pushing up the daisies.

It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

This is an ex-parrot.

Well, I'd better replace you then.

If you want to get anything done in this country, you've got to complain till

you're blue in the nose.

Sorry, squire, I've had a look. We're right out of parrots.

I see. I get the picture.

I've got a slug.

Does it talk?

Not really.

Well, it's scarcely a replacement, then, is it?

Listen, I didn't want to work in a pet shop.

I wanted to be a lumberjack.

I'm sorry, this is irrelevant, isn't it?

Yes! A lumberjack!

Leaping from tree to tree as they float down the mighty rivers of British

Columbia.

The giant redwood, the larch, the fir, the mighty

scotch pine.

What about my bloody parrot?

The smell of fresh-cut timber, the crash of mighty trees.

With my best girl by my side, we'd sing.

He's a lumberjack and I'm okay.

I sleep all night and I work all day.

He's a lumberjack and he's okay.

He sleeps all night and he works all day. I cut down trees, I eat my lunch, I

go to the lavatory.

On Wednesday I go shopping and have buttered scones for tea.

He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch, he goes to the lavatory.

On Wednesday he goes shopping.

And has buttered scones for tea.

He's a lumberjack and he's okay.

He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees, I skip and jump. I like to press wild flowers.

I put on women's clothing and hang around in bars.

He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps. He likes to press wild flowers.

He puts on women's clothing and hangs around in bars.

He's a lumberjack and he's okay.

He sleeps all night and he works all day. I cut down trees, I wear high

heels, suspenders and a bra.

I wish I'd been a girlie, just like my dear papa.

I cut down trees, I wear high heels, suspenders and a bra.

I wish I'd been a girlie, just like my dear papa.

Hello, darling. Sorry I'm so late.

That's all right, darling. I'm 20 minutes late myself.

Oh, let's not start worrying about that yet.

It's nice here, isn't it? Oh, yes. It's a very good restaurant.

Five stars, you know. Oh, really?

Oh, yes. Terrific reputation.

Good evening, madam.

Good evening, sir.

Merci.

What a pleasure to see you here again, sir.

Apparently, the beurre fond croute is fantastic.

The sauce is one of the chef's most famous creations.

That sounds very good. Sounds lovely.

Anyway, darling, have a look at the menu.

See what you want, take your time.

Oh, by the way, I've got a bit of a dirty fork. Could you get me another

one, please?

A bigger one?

I've got a bit of a dirty fork.

Could you get me another one, please?

Oh, sir, I do apologize.

No need to apologize. It doesn't worry me.

Oh, no, no, no. I do apologize, sir. I will fetch the head waiter immediately.

No, no, please. No need to do that.

Oh, no, no, no. I feel sure the head waiter, he will want to apologize to you

himself personally.

I cannot think how this has happened.

I will fetch him at once.

Well, you certainly get good service here, don't you? Yes, they really look

after you here.

Looks delicious.

Excuse me, sir, madame.

This is filthy!

Who the hell washed this up?

Gisabé, find out who washed this up and give them their cards immediately.

No, no, on second thoughts, we can't afford to take any chances.

Sack the entire washing up staff.

Look, please, I don't want to cause any trouble.

Oh, no, please, it's quite right that you bring this sort of thing to our

attention.

Gisabé, find the manager and tell him what has happened immediately.

Please, I don't want to make any fuss. Well, no, please, there's no fuss.

We simply wish to ensure that nothing interferes with your complete enjoyment

of the meal.

I'm sure it won't. It was only a dirty fork.

I know.

And I'm sorry.

Bitterly sorry.

But I know that nothing I can say can alter the fact that in this restaurant

you have been given a dirty, filthy, smelly piece of cutlery. It wasn't

smelly. It is smelly, and obscene, and disgusting, and I hate it, I hate it, I

hate it. That's enough, Gilles Bateau. Dirty, nasty, slutty... Gilles Bateau.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening, madam.

I'm the manager.

I've only just heard what's happened.

May I sit down?

Yes, yes, of course.

I want to apologise humbly, deeply, and sincerely about the fork.

No, no, really, it was only a... A tiny piece of dirt. I mean, you could hardly

see it anyway.

Oh, you're good, kind, fine people for saying that.

But I can see it.

To me, it's like a boulder.

A vast bowl of pus.

Oh, it's not that bad.

No, it gets me here.

I can't give you any excuses.

There are no excuses.

I've been meaning to spend more time in the restaurant, but I haven't been too

well recently, and...

Things have been going very badly back there.

Poor old Mrs Dalrymple, who prepares the salad, can hardly move her poor swollen

fingers. And then, of course, there's Gilberto's war wound.

But they're good people, and they're fine people.

And together, we were beginning to get over this bad patch.

There was light at the end of the tunnel.

When this... When this happened!

Can I get you some water? It's the end of the road.

And you bastards!

You mean us?

You vicious, heartless bastards!

Look what you've done to him!

He's worked his fingers to the...

I'm a bank robber.

Please don't panic. Just hand over all the money.

This is a lingerie shop, sir.

Fine, fine.

Um... Dr Dapton Improved.

Well, what have you got?

We've got corsets, stockings, suspender belts, tights, bras, slips, petticoats,

knickers, socks and garters, sir.

Fine, fine, fine.

No large quantities of money in safes? No, sir.

No piles of cash in easy-to-carry bags?

No, sir.

Well, just a pair of panties, then, please.

And now for something completely different.

Hey, did you see that?

Hmm? Did you see somebody go past the window?

What? Somebody just went past that window downwards.

Oh.

Oh.

Another one.

Hmm? Another one just went past downwards.

What?

Two people have just fallen past that window.

Fine, fine.

Look, two people, three people have just fallen past that window.

Must be a board meeting.

Oh, yeah.

That was Wilkins of Finance.

No, that was Robertson.

Wilkins was Robertson.

Wilkins was Robertson.

That was Wilkins.

Oh, yeah.

Be Parkinson next.

Bet you it won't.

How much?

What? How much do you bet it won't?

Fiver?

Yeah, all right.

Right. Done. You're on.

Hmm. Parkinson next.

Come on, Parkey.

Don't be silly, Parkey. Come on, Parkey. Don't be stupid, man. Come on, lad.

Jump. Yes, sir.

I would like to complain about that last scene about people falling out of high

buildings. I myself have worked all my life in such a building and have never

once...

I'm gonna...

All clear.

Vocational guidance counselor.

Do sit down. All right, thank you.

Take the weight off the feet, eh?

Yes.

Lovely weather for the time of year, I must say. Enough of this game banter.

Now, Mr. Angevy, you asked us to advise you which job in life you were best

suited for. That is correct.

Well, I have the results here of all the interviews and the aptitude tests that

you took last week.

And from them, we've built up a pretty clear impression of the sort of person

that you are. And I think I can say without fear of contradiction that the

ideal job for you... is accountancy.

Oh, I am an accountant.

Jolly good. Well, back to the office with you, then.

No, no, you don't understand.

I've been an accountant for the last 20 years, but I want a new job, something

exciting that will let me live.

But accountancy is quite exciting, isn't it?

Exciting? No, it's not.

It's dull, dull, dull.

My God, it's dull.

It's so deadly dull and tedious and stuffy. and boring and desperately dull.

I can't stand it any longer. I want to live.

Well, yes, Mr. Angery, but you see, in your report here, it says that you are

an extremely dull person.

Um,

our experts describe you as an appallingly dull fellow, unimaginative,

timid, spineless, easily dominated, no sense of humor, tedious company, and

irrepressibly drab and awful.

And whereas in most professions these would be considerable drawbacks, in

accountancy they are a positive boon. Yes, don't you see? I'm only as awful as

this because accountancy does this to people.

Can't you help me?

Well, do you have any idea of what you want to be?

Yes. Yes, I have.

What is it?

A lion tamer!

Yes.

Of course, it's a bit of a jump, isn't it?

accountancy to lion taming in one go you don't think it might be better to work

your way towards lion taming so via banking or insurance no no i don't want

to wait no i want to start immediately tomorrow morning at nine i want to be in

there taming yes but uh what qualifications do you have i've got a

hat a hat yes a lion taming hat a hat with lion tamer written on it and it

lights up saying lion tamer in big red neon letters so you can tame them after

dark when they're less stroppy. I see. And during the day, you can switch it

off and save electricity.

And you can claim it as reasonable wear and tear under allowable professional

expenses under paragraph 335B. Yes, yes, yes, I follow. But you see, the snag is,

if I now call the circus and say to them, look here, I've got a 45-year-old

accountant with me who wants to become a lion tabor, their first question is not

going to be, does he have his own hat?

They're more likely to ask what experience you've had with lions.

I've seen them at the zoo.

Good. Yes.

Yes, little brown furry creatures with short stumpy legs and great long noses.

I could tame one of those. I don't know what all the fuss is about.

Look pretty tame to start with.

And these lions, how high are they?

Oh, about so high.

They don't frighten me at all.

And do these lions eat ants? Yes, that's right.

Well, I'm afraid what you've got a hold of there, Mr. Anchovy, is an ant eater.

A what?

An anteater, not a lion.

You see, a lion is a huge, savage beast, about ten foot long, five foot high,

with masses of sharp, pointy teeth and nasty, long, razor-sharp claws.

It looks like this.

Now,

shall I call the circus?

No! No, no. I like your idea of making the move to lion-taming by easy

stages. Say it. By insurance or banking.

Banking, yes, banking. I see it now. It's a man's life, isn't it? Travel,

excitement, decisions affecting people's lives, romance, thrills.

I'll put you in touch with the bank. Yes.

Probably. Probably.

You know, I'd like a couple of days to think about it, because it is a big

decision. Or maybe a week at most, you know. But I do want to make this

decision to be the right one.

I'd like to do banking, obviously, but... It's sad, isn't it? But this is

what accountancy does to people.

The only way that we can fight this terrible, debilitating social disease...

I only want to be famous.

I only want to see my name in lights.

And so you shall.

Good evening and welcome to Blackmail. To start tonight's program, we go north

through Preston in Lancashire and Mrs. Betty Teal.

Hello, Mrs. Teal.

Now, Mrs. Teal, this is for 15 pounds and it's to stop us revealing the name

of your lover in Bolton.

So, Mrs. Teal, send us 15 pounds by return of post, please, and your

husband, Trevor, and your lovely children, Diane, Janice, and Juliet need

never know the name of your lover in Bolton.

And now, a letter, a series of photographs, and a hotel registration

book, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible

criminal proceedings for a company director in Bromsgrove. He's a Freemason

and a Conservative MP, so Mr. S. of Bromsgrove, that's 3,000 pounds, please,

to stop us revealing your name, the name of the three other people involved, the

youth organization to which they belong, and the shop where you bought the

equipment.

Well, we'll be showing you more of that photograph later in the program, unless

we hear from Charles or Michael.

Now it's time for our Stop the Film spot.

The rules are very simple. We have taken a film which contains compromising

scenes and unpleasant details, which could wreck a man's career.

But the victim may phone me at any time and stop the film. But don't forget, the

money increases as the film goes on. So the longer you leave it, the more you

have to pay.

So, with a clock of 300 pounds, this week's Stop the Film visited Thames

Detail.

He's a very brave man.

No, sir.

No?

I'm sure you didn't, sir.

No, that's all right. We don't morally sense you. We just want the money.

And here's the address to send it to.

Thank you, sir.

Well, that's quite enough of that.

And now... a local

civic group re-enacts a famous scene from history.

This week, the Townsendmen Guild of Sheffield in Yorkshire.

Miss Rita Fairbanks, you organized this representation of the Battle of Pearl

Harbor. Why?

Well, we've always been extremely interested in modern...

We were the first transwomen's guild to perform camp on Blood Island.

And, of course, last year we did our extremely popular reenactment of Nazi

war atrocities. So this year we thought we'd do something in a much lighter

vein. Well, I can see that you're all ready to go, so I just wish you good

luck in your latest venture, the Battle of Pearl Harbor.

Thank you very much indeed, young man.

Good afternoon and welcome to Brandly Park. Can you join us just as the

competitors are running out onto the field on this lovely winter's afternoon

with the going firm underfoot and very little sign of rain. And it looks as

though we're in for a splendid afternoon sport on this, the 127th upper class...

Twit of the Year show.

And there's a big crowd here today to see these prize idiots in action.

Vivian Smith by Smith.

He's in the Grenadier Guards and he can count up to four.

Simon Zink Trumpet Harris. He's an old Etonian and married to a very attractive

table lamp.

Nigel Incubator Jones. His best friend is a tree and in his spare time he's a

stockbroker. Gervais Brooke Hamster. He's in the wine trade, and his father

uses him as a waste paver basket.

And finally, Oliver Singin Mollusk, another old Etonian. His father was a

cabinet minister, and his mother won the Derby, and he's thought by many to be

this year's outstanding twit.

And now the twits are moving up to the starting line, and any moment now,

they'll be under starter's orders.

I'm afraid they're facing the wrong way at the moment, but the starter will soon

sort this out, and any moment now, we're going to have the big off. This is

always a tense moment.

They had to start with the gun. Well, never mind. I think the start is

explained to them now. Yes, several of them are getting the point.

And we're ready again. And off they go. And this time, yes, a really fast start.

And it's Vivian going straight to the lead. Oliver's running rather wide to

the right. Where's he gone? Oh, there he is.

And to the left. And he'll soon pick up the line. Yes, there we are. And into

the first event, which is walking along the straight lines. The Twits have to

walk along these lines without falling over.

This is Oliver's worst event.

in the streets of Kensington tonight.