All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s02e01

Good evening and welcome.

It's good to see you. It's good to be
with you again, isn't it, Ronnie? Oh,

lovely. What have you been doing with
yourself the last week?

Well, I've been appearing in a West End
play, I've done a TV series, I've

written a book, and I've climbed Mount
Everest.

Yes, I haven't done much either.

And now, now the news.

In the transatlantic single -handed
yacht race, Mr. Owen Smithers has been

disqualified for using both hands.

The government issued a serious warning
today about Hong Kong flu. The public

are advised not to get it, as it's just
a cheap plastic imitation of British

flu.

During a speech by Mr. Enoch Powell at
Watford Town Hall, a man rushed up onto

the platform and threw a bag of soup
into Mr. Powell's face.

After a slight scuffle, the man was
removed, and Mr. Powell went on to sing

Sonny Boy into Camptown's... Today is
the

report on the mating habits of animals.

Apparently ostriches mate once a week.

crocodiles three times a week, and
elephants three weeks a time.

It was announced today that Amazing
Grace has gone to number eight, and

is at number nine.

Mr. Heath at number ten said it's
ruining the tone of the movie.

And here is a polite message.

Oh, no, I'm sorry. Here is a police
message.

There is a message.

Here is a message for Mr. and Mrs.
Smith, believed to be spending the

Brighton. Will Mr. Smith please return
to his home in Barnet, where his wife,

Mrs. Jackson, is absolutely furious?

Right. Shall we start?

I've started.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in
the face of this congregation to join

together this man and this woman.

Excuse me.

What's the matter?

This isn't the one.

Isn't the one? Which one? This one isn't
the one I'm marrying.

Not the one you're marrying?

No, you're not, are you?

No, I've never seen her before in all my
life.

Have I?

No.

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure.

Oh, dear, everybody's looking at us.

Well, what's gone wrong, then?

Could you carry on with the service?
Everybody's listening.

I can hardly carry on. Just carry on for
a little while, please, to give us some

time to think, would you?

All right.

Which is an honourable estate.

and therefore is not by any to be
enterprised nor taken in hand

lightly or wantonly.

But reverently... What are we going to
do?

We can't carry on. We've got to stop,
haven't we? We've got to stop. I can't.

can't.

I've waited for months for this moment.
I've been working up to it.

Well,

so have I.

We've both been working up to it,
haven't we?

But we've been working up to it with
different people.

My mum will go mad if we cancel it now.

She's got all the sandwiches and sausage
rolls ready.

She's doing little things in volleyball
cases as well.

Marriage isn't just a question of little
things in volleyball cases.

She sat up all night in an armchair so
she wouldn't spoil a new hairdo.

I don't know anything about you, do I?

I mean, I don't know what you're like.

How do you mean?

Well, what you're like.

You know, what you're like.

What I'm like?

Well,

I can't put any plain idea in front of
the vicar. What you're like.

I haven't had any complaints up till
now.

Anyway, I don't know what you're like,
do I? Well, I'm just like anybody else,

aren't I?

You're very little.

I'm not little, it's you that's big.

Have you decided anything yet?

Because we've come to the part in the
service where the whole thing gets a

bit irrevocable now.

It's just that we don't know whether
we're suited.

It's a question of size.

May I remind you both that a marriage
partner is usually taken on account of

their quality, not quantity.

Well, you'll have to give us a little
more time somehow, if you will. All

I'll tell you what. I'll give them a
hymn to be going on with.

The congregation will now sing hymn
number 798.

A stranger is among us, so shall we let
him in.

I love tall girls.

Do you? Yes.

I'm not really tall, you know.

Lie to me.

Yes.

Well, what do you think, then?

Shall we make a go of it?

Well, where would we live?

My dad's bought me a new bungalow.

OK, you're on, then.

All right, Reverend, you can carry on.
Yes, we'll just finish this first.

We have met

before, actually.

Really?

Where? Well, do you remember Bobby
Upton's party the Christmas before last

we all played sardines?

Yes, were you there then? Yes.

You crawled under the bed I was hiding
under. You were the last to be found.

Good gracious.

I didn't recognize you. I was blonde
then, and I was lying on my stomach.

Was that you?

Yes.

Oh, good.

Do you, Robin Cyril... Do you, Robin
Cyril... Robin Bates... Do you, Robin

Bates... Robin Cyril... Do you, Robin
Cyril... Take... Old Mother Thompson...

Take Old Mother Thompson... Mavis
Jean... Mavis Jean... Take Mavis Jean

to your local wedding. I always wanted
to marry you, ever since I was nine. I

never knew it would finish like this. As
long as you both shall live. I do.

And do you, Mavis Jean...

Take Robin Cyril, your wedded husband.
What about the other fellow? I never

liked him much.

Anyway, he'll only marry me out of
sympathy, really. As long as you both

live. I do.

The ring.

No,

it fits, that's what.

For as much as Robin Cyril and Mavis
Jean... What do you mean, marrying you

of sympathy?

He took advantage of me.

Oh.

Well, that doesn't mean you've got to
marry him, does it?

Well, I thought it only right. I mean...
I pronounce that they be man and wife

together. I've got to give this lot a
father, haven't I?

What are you?

Now, a lot of people say to me, you're
not doing enough about pollution, and I

say rubbish.

And they say you're not doing enough
about rubbish, and I say pollution.

Now, to give you an example of our work,
we have selected an area for the

disposal of toxic waste, and here it is.

Great Britain.

We're going to divide Britain into two
regions, east of sewage and west of

sewage.

Now, I expect you're wondering what
these black marks are.

Well, they represent big towns. That's
London, that's Birmingham, and that's

Liverpool, and that is the spot where my
wife threw ink at me.

Now, let us see what happens in 20
years' time.

As you see now, London... London is now
twice as big, Birmingham three times as

big, And the spot where my wife threw
ink at me has a population of two

Of course, certain towns will have to be
joined together. For instance, Bognor

Regis will join Lyme Regis and be known
as Regis Regis.

West Ham will join East Sandwich to form
two towns known as West East and Ham

Sandwich.

Staines will join Underhill and be known
as Under Staines.

But we won't talk about that.

And Southampton will join Northampton
and become one enormous Hampton.

There'll be four Liverpools, three
Exeters, and, of course, two Bristols.

But we can't fight pollution without
some hardship. Certain things will have

be rationed. Air, for instance.

You will be able to breathe, but not as
often as you used to.

There will be a rotor system as follows.

go Monday, Leeds Tuesday, Sheffield
Wednesday, London will breathe in on

Thursdays and out on Saturdays.

Sorry, Hastings, your day is February
the 29th, bad luck.

Now, this shows the situation in 1999.

The dog represents one million dogs, and
the tree represents a tree.

This means that dogs will have to mind
their P's and Q's and Q's and O's.

Traffic.

Here is the map of the roads we are
planning.

As you see, it's all very simple.

Every single town will be bypassed so
you can drive all day without going

anywhere.

The M5 will join the M36 and the M99
will be known as Gloucestershire.

Scotland will be one way northwards into
the sea.

And good riddance to them. Now some
people...

Some people worry about overpopulation.

Well, we are dealing with this. In fact,
in Northumberland, due to a mistake, we

have just sterilized all the milk and
pasteurized all the men.

This means there'll be no half -pint
bottles and lots of lovely babies with

tops.

As to overcrowding, we calculate that by
1995, everyone will have two square

feet, which will make walking
impossible.

let me end on a more optimistic note.

At the moment, there are still five
square yards

of common grassland for every member of
the population in Great Britain.

So if you would like yours now, please
write to me enclosing a stamped address

wheelbarrow and I will forward it to
you.

Here is the address, 17 Old Bicycle
Street, Mattress Garden City, Rusty

Bedsteadshire. Good night.

Our story starts on the morning of the
1st of April. An apt date, you may

for the strange charade that was about
to unfold itself.

Then again, perhaps you may not think
that. It's up to you. What you think is

your own affair.

The fact remains that Piggy Malone,
private eye and secret eater, was on his

to his office.

situated in the heart of unfashionable
Neasden, over a greengrocer's shop in

Harrow Road.

He approached the door at the side of
the shop, pausing only to acknowledge

cheery smile of the proprietor.

He mounted the stairs two at a time.

He was in no particular hurry, but it
saved wear and tear on the carpet.

He opened the first door on the left and
slowed in, a mistake he often made.

Oi, I'm in here.

Waiting for him on that spring morning,
as usual, was Malone's trusty assistant,

Charlie Farley, a failed undergraduate,
who occasionally rode to hounds and

invariably walked to work.

Without a word, Charlie handed Malone
the morning paper.

Here we are, Chief.

Silently, Malone took it. Thank you very
much.

There, in the paper, was the first in
what was to be a long list of surprises.

A woman's body was found

this morning on Hampstead Heath,
strangled with her own garter.

The body is estimated to be about 31.

The legs about 28 and a half and the
body... The police

were able to identify the body by a coat
of arms tattooed on the lady's back.

A unicorn rampant.

And the family motto, ready when you
are.

She was the wealthy lady Brimston of
Brimston Grange, Dorset.

Widow of Lord Arthur Brimston.

The treacle millionaire.

Well?

Sounds like a case for us, Chief.

You reckon?

Certainly. I've looked the family up in
Bourke's peerage.

Swarms of relatives, all penniless.

Any one of them could have a motive.

She's put her money in treacle.

It's not going to be very easy to get
hold of.

And they'll all be there, waiting to
contest the will.

Why?

You've forgotten again, Miss Wizard.

Hi, Mr Malone. I got up in such a hurry
this morning.

It's all right.

Bring me a butter bun, would you?

Princeton grade, eh?

Sounds inviting.

Trip to the country?

You've been looking a bit peaky. Change
of beer probably do you good.

Anything we ought to finish off here
first?

Nothing that can't wait, Chief.

Business hasn't exactly been brick.

A couple of lost pension books.

And, of course, the Mrs.

Thompson poisoning.

Ah, the window box affair, eh?

While she was leaning out of the window,
talking to her neighbour at the front,

someone crept round the back and sprayed
her prize begonia. And it went yellow.

Well,

we haven't got time to waste on
trivialities.

Tell her to put the whole thing in the
hands of a solicitor.

We've got a murder to solve.

Strangled with her own garter, eh?

So, we're taking the case, Chief?

Yep.

Well, I'll go and get the motorbike
round the front, then.

There's not much to go on, Charlie.

Well, perhaps we'd better go by train,
then, eh?

Tell you what.

You go and pack.

Drive down to Brimstone Grange on the
motorbike.

I'll phone them, tell them we're coming,
and follow by train, and you pick me up

at the station. It's as simple as that.

We should be just in time to catch the
funeral.

Sounds like the funerals in full swing.

And so it was.

that Figgy Malone and his intrepid
assistant, Charlie Farley, came face to

with the Brimston family.

Surely the most bizarre funeral feast
that that detective had ever clapped his

eyes on.

At this moment in time, they were just
faces, but faces he would grow to know

and hate before many days had passed.

There was Professor Amos Brimston, the
rightful heir, 72 years old, eminent

gynecologist and tug -of -war champion,
who at this moment was trying to get his

pet mice drunk.

Next to him...

the Dowager Lady Agatha Brimstone.

Ex -Gaiety Girl, reputed to have been
kissed on the lips of Balmoral by Edward

VII and in many other places as well.

Further along the table, young Billy
Brimstone with his brand -new blushing

bride, Brenda, busily trying to brief
her about the birds and the bees before

bedtime.

Is this a funeral or a wedding?

It's been a boat by the look of it.

Ladies and gentlemen...

As indeed it was. Uncle Joe Brimstone,
the bankrupt tycoon who at this moment

toasted the bride and groom, had decided
to combine the two occasions in order

to save time and money. It was he
himself who had designed the unusual

Two other pairs of eyes watched the
proceedings with mixed feelings.

Nellie Tremblay, the dowager's lady
companion, and Otto, fan dancer.

A permanent guest in the house ever
since he'd been flown over from

1954 by the late Lord Brimstone to act
as military advisor in the grouse

shooting season.

It was no secret that Otto was madly in
love with Brenda, Billy's bride.

There remained but three people in the
room worthy of a more than cursory

before the drama is allowed to unfold
itself.

And they were gathered at the far end of
the table, drinking heavily.

Pike, the sinister butler.

Dr. Grist, the family physician, an
eccentric who had often been found in

with his patients.

And who wore his stethoscope always,
even in the bath.

And last, but by no means least, the
well -endowed Blanche Brimstone, sister

the deceased, whom they said was like
Mount Everest.

She had been conquered few times.

And then, only by men willing to suffer
great personal hardship working in

groups of three or four.

Oh, look at that.

They've got cherries on them.

In another part of the grounds, the
gardeners went about their duties.

No one knew their names, but they worked
with a relentless enthusiasm.

At present, they were in the vegetable
garden, engaged in moving a hole from

end to the other.

They worked on little knowing that
disaster was about to descend once more

the Brimston household.

Is it murder?

Well, it isn't arson, is it, dear?

I don't want anyone to leave this room.

Oh.

Especially you, madam.

I knew this would happen.

And, actor, you are from Scotland Yard,
aren't you? No.

Neaston High Street.

Leave him alone.

There's something I must show you.

Come to my bedroom while we've got the
chance.

Right.

Soon you'll realise what I've been
through.

Yes.

Very good, madam.

Charlie, you stay here and look after
the body.

If I'm not down in an hour, send her a
couple of pork pies, would you?

Questions tumbled over each other in
Malone's teething brain.

What did Blanche know of the murder?

What was she going to show him in the
bedroom?

Had he got clean underwear on? Had he
cancelled the bill?

One thing was certain.

There would be very little sleep for
Malone that night.

I think I'm gonna cry.

Bye -bye, love.

Bye -bye, sweet courage.

Hello, emptiness.

I feel like I could die. There goes my
baby with someone new.

She sure looks happy.

I sure am blue.

She was my baby till he stepped in.

Goodbye to romance that might have been.

Bye -bye, love.

Bye -bye, happiness.

Hello, loneliness.

I think I'm gonna cry.

Bye -bye, love.

Bye -bye, sweet dreams.

Hello, emptiness.

I feel like I could die. I'm free from
romance.

I'm free of love.

I'm free of counting the stars above.

And here's the reason that I'm so free.

I don't know why I said thank you there,
but before I go... Well, I said it. It

slipped out and I said it.

Before I go any further, I must tell you
a very, very funny story about this

chap who has just moved into a new
house. Now, it's rather a coincidence

I myself have just moved into a new
house. Well, not only me, you know, but

wife and children, you know.

I'd like to know who gave them the
address.

Actually, I got an idea that the old
place might be down for redevelopment

I came home one night and found two men
marking out a motorway on the living

room carpet.

Now, they tell me it'll be the new M21
and it will take 45 minutes off the

journey from Slough Labour Exchange to
the Royal Yacht Club at Cowes.

And vice versa, of course.

Sorry,

I seem to be getting away from the
subject.

I do that sometimes. I sometimes wish
that I'd kept on with that course on

positive thinking.

I did it for two years and I couldn't
make up my mind whether to stop or not.

Anyway, we are now in the new house.

Of course, we are having some teething
troubles with it. Well, you know, who

doesn't with the new house? We've had a
little bit of shrinkage in the woodwork.

Last night, someone put his arm under
the front door and stole the mat.

And the dining room table.

Actually, the dining room is a little
bit pokey.

Actually, at first I thought it was a
secret passage.

And you're not going to believe this,
but the telephone hasn't stopped ringing

since we moved in.

We were on a party line with the ICI.

Now, my wife, my wife, tall, well
-built, blue hat.

I tell her lie.

Sorry, I tell her lie. Green hat.

I keep getting her mixed up with the
postman.

Anyway, she has settled down very well
indeed.

She's joined the East Grinstead
Cooperative Vivisection Society.

They meet in the co -op and pull people
to pieces.

And she's also treasurer of the Young
Wives Fund for the restoration of the

milkman.

I personally don't go in much for
joining this and joining that. I used

be honest with you, I used to belong to
the Duke of Clarence homeward bound

scheme. If it was closing time in the
Duke of Clarence and you couldn't walk,

they'd put you in a taxi.

I'm still a member of the Hurlingham
Ferret Down Your Trousers Club.

It's a little bit of fun, you know, we
meet once a month and put a ferret down

our trousers.

I think it's sponsored by the Family
Planning Association.

Now, don't try it, will you?

One advantage of the new house, I must
be honest, is the kiddies' school, which

is just a stone's throw down the road.
Now, it's a very, very nice school

indeed. It's the St. Lillian Skinners.

Lillian Skinner's for children of the
well -shod gentry.

And it's run by the Order of the Little
Sisters of the Rich.

Now, the accent is not so much on
learning. It's not so much on learning

on carriage and deportment. They turn
out a very high percentage of lollipop

ladies and effeminate gas fitters.

Which brings me rather cleverly to...

say that rather pompously, which brings
me rather ordinarily to what I was going

to tell you about this gas fitter who
has moved into the new house. Now, he

to the front garden the first morning
and the chap next door comes out of his

garage and says to him, would you mind
very much, would you mind very much

helping me start my car and have a bit
of a bother? So he follows the chap into

the garage and there's no car there,
just a chair in the middle of the floor.

The chap gives him a starting handle and
says, you know, give it a turn.

So he goes through the motions, you
know, he goes to the front, goes boom,

boom, and the chap sitting in the chair
suddenly goes boom, boom, boom, boom,

boom, jumps out of the chair and runs
off down the road.

While the neighbour, the neighbour from
the other side walks into the garage and

said, did you help him start his car?

The chap said, yes, he said, as a matter
of fact, I did. He said, did you notice

that he hasn't, you know, got a car?

The chap said, well...

As a matter of fact, he said, I did. I
did, yes.

He said, well, don't tell him, will you,
please, because I get a pound a week

for cleaning it.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

We don't allow it around.

If you've got the energy,

why not come round to our camping
ground?

Ho! Ho!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

We're dripping to life with a song in
our hearts, and we all know our parts,

that when trouble starts, we will be
there, boys, and we will be keen,

we're doing it all for the Queen.

We're not easy riders.

Thank you.

Skipper Chuck Ferris welcoming you to
another jamboree show. And I... I

hope you're all going to be ready to go
because I know we're all going to have a

lot of fun.

Well, with me tonight, as usual, is your
old friend, Pastor Gunnersbury.

Hi there,

listeners.

And now, in more serious mood...

Buster Gunnersbury is joined by young
Roger Hopkins in a very dramatic

entitled, Be a chap with a purpose.

All right, lad.

Do you want to tell me why you stole the
chocolate biscuit?

Were you hungry?

No, sir, just something to do.

Something to do?

You're just wasting your life, Roger.

You'd better pull yourself together,
son, and take this good advice from me.

Be a chap with a purpose. Be a fellow
with an aim.

Though life's a moving target, try to
hit it just the same.

Take up the bow of honesty, screw up
your strength and pull.

And in the field of cleanliness, you're
bound to hit a ball.

Be a man who is merry. Be a guy who is
gay.

And if life seems topsy -turvy, try it
up the other way.

If you're in a narrow tunnel and it's
black and you are blue, if you've a

at the other end, he's bound to pull you
through.

Be a gent who is gentle. Be a pal who
isn't proud.

Don't try to be a big knob or stand out
in the crowd.

But if a chum falls on hard times, just
offer him your hand and let him grasp it

firmly. It will make you both feel
grand.

So remember, as you go through life and
travel near or far, it isn't what you

say or think or what you do or are.

It's what you think. It's what you say.

It's what you are and do.

Just live by that, and then you'll stay
alive your whole life through.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

And now, lads and lasses, Skipper Chuck
Ferris is going to do his well -known

take -off skit of Mrs.

Golightly. Come on, Chuck.

Oh, dear.

Oh, I've had a day, you know. Oh, I've
had such a day.

I just ran into my friend, Elty, you
know, the one with the waitress, you

and got the sack.

Because she was caught with her fingers
in the tail.

Thought the change would do her good.

She says to me, she says to me, no,
don't. She says to me, Doris, she says

me, Doris, I'm very concerned, she said,
because she said, my fiancé, Bob, you

know my fiancé, Bob, she said, well,
he's Marine, she said, and I've just

discovered that that means he's half
soldier and half sailor, she said to me.

She said, do you think I should still
marry him?

I said, well, provided both have come
home and leave at the same time, I

shouldn't worry.

Little Billy Pratt, what a funny fella.

So bananas along the street, they were
so big and yellow.

They soon became quite famous, and
wherever people met, they vowed they

rightest and the best they'd ever ate.
And now throughout the land, you'll find

them near at hand.

You see, well, if you go there to
start...

Thank you.

I give them in return our Billy Pratt's
bananas.

Hey, all those good listeners, return
our Billy Pratt's bananas.

Well,

that's it, folks. Once again, the old
clock's beaten us and it's time to say

goodnight. Come on, Chuck.

Get your lipstick off.

Say cheerio, everybody.

Cheerio, everybody.

That's right.

And from all of us...

From all of us, from all of us gangsters
here, it's good luck till we meet

again, and don't forget, stay bright, do
right.

Don't get tight, or hire the kite.

Try not to fight, stay home at night,
keep out of sight, and you'll be all

right. Good night!

We are not easy riders.

We're just a load of countrysiders
sailing along with the wind in our hair.

That's it for this week. On the show
next week, we'll be discussing Mae

film career with WC Fields and asking,
was she using WC as a convenience?

Basil Brush will be telling you where he
gets his brushes.

Wilfred Pickles will be telling you
where he gets his pickles.

And Simon Oates won't be saying
anything.

In Kettering last night, a police
constable, thought to be drunk in charge

breathalyser, was made to blow into a
pink saloon car.

And in the West Midhurst nursing home,
the seats have been removed from all the

toilets. The nursing staff are furious,
commented one nurse, we stand for a lot

of things, but we're just not standing
with that.

And now, it's goodnight from me, and
it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.