All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s02e06

Good evening, it's good to be with you
again, isn't it, Ronnie? Isn't it, isn't

it? On the show tonight, we've got
extracts from three plays.

Fanny by Gaslight, a new play set on the
top story of a fizzy lemonade factory

called Gassy by Fanlight, and a play
about an old lady who was rescued from a

lighthouse after she sent an SOS by
torch called Granny by Flashlight.

And we'll be asking the cast of Oh
Calcutta to change roles as they all

each other's parts backwards.

But first, the news.

A lorryload of custard today collided
with a goods train carrying cakes and

wine. British Rail have asked us to
announce that trains will be late, but

a trifle.

British scientists made history this
week in the field of interbreeding when

they crossed a skunk with a fairy and
got a whiff and poof.

The American president announced today
that the U .S. space program is so short

of funds that in future all astronauts
who go to the moon will have to pay

own fare.

And a man is recovering in Bradford
tonight after a 20 -foot girder fell

building. It was fantastically lucky, he
said. The girder missed my left

shoulder by only three inches.

It hit him on the head.

And reports that doctors are widening
the range they specialise in were

confirmed today by Dr Sidney Smith, an
ear, nose, throat, dandruff and belly

button specialist.

And two doctors, two doctors who
examined the ears of one of Britain's

politicians today are concerned about
what they saw.

They saw each other.

A Lincoln man has beaten the world
record for standing on his head.

He said afterwards it was easy. I could
have done it standing on my feet.

And now it's time for a sketch.

We should warn you that this sketch will
contain scenes that are not suitable

for Mexican hairdressers who don't speak
a word of English.

Morning. Good morning.

I'd like an eagle.

What sort of eagle?

One that flies, you know.

Oh, yes, I know the sort.

They're no good for roasting, you know.

They're a bit springy. I don't want to
roast it. Ah, good. I could tell you

a bit of a gourmet.

You see, if you want to cook them best,
chop them up. Chop them up. Saute them

in a little bit of stock. Add the red
wine, a couple of bay leaves, and your

will love the talons.

I don't want an eagle to eat.

Oh, good. Very good. For your wife to
eat, is it?

I'm not married. I didn't think you were
married when I heard you were doing all

your own cooking.

It's not much fun, you know, being in
charge of a butcher shop.

This is a pet shop.

Yes, I know. What's the difference?

Butchers sell animals dead, we sell them
alive.

Do you fancy a nice penguin sandwich?

Not at the moment, thank you, no. Do you
fancy a French mustard to take away the

nasty fishy taste? Look, what about my
eagle?

You've got an eagle, have you?

Oh, I'll give you a good price for that.
I haven't got an eagle.

I want an eagle.

Now, if you want to eat it here, I'll
take it with you.

I want to take it with me.

You've got friends coming round for
dinner, have you? Yes, yes, I've got

friends all coming round for dinner, all
ravenous for a nice piece of eagle,

yes. Right, here we are. There we are.

There you are.

That's not an eagle.

That's Ted. Ted the eagle. That's a
dormouse. Where? Where? Where? Don't let

see it, for goodness sake. In the box.
In the box with Ted, a dormouse?

Goodness me, you'll have him in no time.
Goodness me, he's eaten them all up.

Not a thing you left. Would you believe
that? Oh, the wicked these eagles, you

know. Don't let him be near your fingers
whenever you're going to have them.

Listen, this dormouse, Ted, Ted the
eagle. All right, Ted the eagle is not

eagle. He's a dormouse.

It's a baby eagle. No, no, I'm sorry.
I'm not interested.

He's not any... Sort of eagle.

Well, I must be honest with you, make no
bones about it, eagles are hard to come

by and they're a bit expensive. What
about that?

That's an egg.

I see you know what you're talking
about.

This is a do -it -yourself eagle kit.

Cut out the middleman.

And what am I supposed to do with that?
Well, wait a minute. It comes with a

set. It's a map of the mountains of
Scotland, some climbing boots, and a

woolly hat.

See? I'm afraid of heights.

Well, so are eagles. Why do you think
they're all hiding under my counter

How would I hatch that out? Well, you
sit on it, you see.

You must be very careful. I'll just put
these away, because I don't like them

lying about. You must sit on it. You
must be very careful not to break it,

see. The slightest sound of a crack,
jump off.

Because small as they are, they have an
awkward chart beat.

How long would I have to sit on that?

Three months.

No, no, I foresee certain difficulties.
I'm afraid I haven't got the time to

spare in my line of work. Oh, yes? What
is your line of work? I'm a U -boat

commander.

Could I interest you in a nice little
giraffe, then?

You know, just to... He'd pop his head
above the water for you, have a little

look around.

Save you going to the expense of a
telescope.

No, I've had second thoughts.

Second thoughts? I'll take the eagle.

The eagle, right.

Now, what size boots do you take? No,
no, I don't want the egg. I want the

little furry eagle with the tail and the
eyes.

Ah.

Ted. Ted the eagle. Ted the little furry
eagle, yes. Ah, he's a lovely... Ted.

Ted the eagle, yes. Now, do be careful,
now, won't you? That'll be five pounds

in all, by the way. Five pounds in all.
Right. Thank you very much. Thank you

very much. And do be very careful with
them because there's an awful lot of

in them.

I'll wear a little woolly glove. Yes,
sir. Thank you very much.

Ah, good morning, madam.

How are you, young man? I'm very well.
Can I interest you in a nice gorilla?

No. Have you any canaries?

No canaries, madam. Only gorillas.

What about Ted the gorilla? He's a
lovely little fellow. Have a look at him

there, Ted.

The summer smiles.

The summer knows.

And unashamed.

She sheds her clothes.

The summer smiles.

The summer knows.

The summer's wise.

She sees the doubts within your eyes.

And so she takes...

Good evening.

I want to speak to you tonight about,
um, about, uh, about men and women and

they, um, and how they, when they, uh,
when, when they, uh, if they.

I'm from the Government Advisory Service
on, uh, thingamere, and we believe, we

believe it would be much better if
people could be perfectly frank about,

mean, you'll find yourself becoming much
happier in every way if only you can be

more outspoken about, um, about being
more outspoken, about, you see, for

instance, everyone should be able to
talk absolutely freely about, about, um,

about, uh, about three months ago I was
asked to come here and talk to you

about, uh, about, about a flu prevented
me then, but here I am now.

Good. That wasn't too embarrassing, was
it?

Now, here is a diagram of your, good
God.

As you can see, the Birmingham one -way
system is very complicated and not a

good place for a bit of what have you.

And what have you, that is the question.

People, as some probably know, are of
two kinds.

Which kind are you?

To help us, here is a nude man and a
nude woman after they've put their

back on.

Now, to tell them apart, you just take
off, you just, you just take off, you

just, you just take off by frobison.

I'm standing here.

I'm standing here in the middle of...
You see, if it's a good take -off, it's

man or it's a woman who sounds like Fife
Robertson.

Now, if you look down, if you look down,
if you look down your front, you will

see, you will see a thing which we
call... a thing which we call the floor.

This is not where you do the thing you
don't do on the floor.

Unless, of course, you do do it on the
floor.

In which case, you're probably a member
of a splinter group.

Well, there it is.

Or isn't. And that's what tells you. And
the way to tell men and women apart, or

indeed together, is that they both have
two. They both have two ears.

Well, of course, it doesn't end there.

I mean, there's really no point in being
embarrassed about mentioning certain

parts of the body. Not only the ears,
but, of course, our old friend, the

I mean, what's embarrassing about the
old hooter? Nothing. Keep our nose to

ground and you'll smell the floor.

Which, as I said, is not where you do
what you do, when you do, do do what you

do, if you do, and good luck to you.
More power to your elbow. Well, not

your elbow.

So let us be completely frank, or
George, or Harriet, according to how you

and let us answer the question, where do
babies come from?

Well, some of them come from Luton.

Now, if it's embarrassed you to listen
to what I've been speaking about so

outspokenly, speak out. Or, forever,
hold your peace.

That's spelled P -E -A -C -E.

And here to help explain what I mean, I
have a hairbrush and a jam jar.

I put the hairbrush into the jam jar.

What happens?

Well, I can't brush my hair until I get
the brush out of the jar.

Splendid. I hope that clears it up.

It does for me, and I so say all of us.

And remember, don't be shy about
women's... I mean, don't be shy about

women's... women's coconut... Don't
be... Don't be coconut shy.

Or guess the weight of the pig.

Go quite openly to Luton, find a floor,
waggle your two ears, get out your

hairbrush and use the Birmingham one
-way system, and good luck to you.

The latest victims done to death in the
continuing gory story of Brimstone

Grange were none other than young Billy
Brimstone, who had been married for only

a fortnight, what the Sunday papers
would describe as a two -week

and Otto Van Dancer, oily German, crack
shot, and hitherto chief suspect in this

bizarre affair.

Pike, the rustly butler, was for once
not in evidence.

Figgy Malone, second -rate private eye
and inveterate glutton, and his more

fastidious but equally pathetic
assistant, Charlie Farley, had witnessed

whole affair, however, and spent a long
time at police headquarters helping the

police. with their inquiry.

Thank you.

All works.

Could we have our sacks back, please?

My mum keeps you for the onions. Oh,
yes.

Thank you.

Thanks very much.

No, not you, Mrs Parsons.

We're not at your house yet.

Come on, let's go in.

Wait a minute, Chief.

You realise that only Miss Blanche left.

And Pike the butler.

You mean... Exactly.

What?

What? What do you mean?

How do you mean?

Well, you said exactly. Yes, I meant
exactly what you were going to say.

I wasn't going to say anything.

Well, I was going to say that the
murderer must be Pike the butler. Or

Exactly.

Anyway, I suggest we treat them both
with the utmost caution. Go on.

What the devil are you doing here?

Oh, we're rehearsing for the musical
evening tonight.

Musical evening?

What musical evening?

Oh, Miss Blanche always has a musical
evening on the first Thursday in the

month. She loves anything musical.

Oh, does she indeed?

I show her my cigarette box.

Ah, gentlemen, you're back.

Is it true, madam, that you are holding
a musical soiree here this evening?

Yes. But never mind that now.

Come to my bedroom. I've got something
to show you.

It'll make you go hot and cold.

I am out to get you.

I will kill you like I killed all the
others. You will die a horrible death, I

promise you.

Very best wishes, Anonymous.

Do you know this man?

It can only be from Pike. He's the only
one left.

And you yourself, of course, madam. But
I wouldn't threaten my own life.

Of course not. There's a reason, Chief.
I mean, goodness me, if she continued to

ignore these letters, she'd be forced to
kill herself.

Exactly.

She could commit suicide and make it
look like murder.

This would incriminate Pike, and she'd
get away scot -free.

True.

Right.

Anyone else got any ideas?

Where is Pike?

I haven't seen him all day.

You don't think he's lurking somewhere,
do you?

Well, wherever he is, and whatever he's
doing, Miss Blanche, one thing is

certain. From now on, neither of us
should leave your side for a moment.

Ever.

Well, I could know the picture, couldn't
I?

Oh, yes. What's on the local? Anybody
know?

Uh, yes, that, um... It's got a picture,
you know.

That's Ica.

The two

detectives worked tirelessly to
safeguard the life of the friendly

Blanche. And it was here that Charlie
Farley, failed undergraduate, was to

shine. bringing his keen mind to bear on
the problem of a foolproof warning

system.

Malone was content merely to look in
occasionally and receive a progress

all right chief this is very good but
supposing he comes in through the window

exactly string

That's more like it.

Yes.

Now, how are you going to get out?

Oh, well, I've got that door coming in
on.

Oh.

But supposing the murderer comes in
through that door over there?

That door covered.

Everything should be sort of just set
now.

Go out and try it, Chief.

No, no.

You go out and try it. Go on.

Suppose this is simpler.

Yeah.

Mind you, it means we've got to sit up
all night.

Oh, I don't mind. I'd do anything to
protect Miss Blanche.

Where is she, by the way?

Oh, she's in the... All the time I saw
her.

Go, Benny.

Where's Miss Blanche, my good man?

I'm not sure, sir.

Search for her, man.

Her life's been threatened.

Wait a minute, Chief. What?

That was Pike.

Someone asked for him.

Disappeared.

I suggest we search for Miss Blount's
cheek. We must get to her before he

It was three hours later when they
finally found her.

Hello, boys.

Oh, Miss Flush, I'm so glad we found
you. I've been so worried.

When I saw your legs lying in the grass,
I didn't know where to put myself.

Naughty boy.

I don't want to alarm you, madam, but
Pike is back.

I know, I've seen him. I think he's
quite harmless.

You may do. I'd still like to have a
word with him.

Come on, let's all go and look for him.
Where do you suggest we look?

Well, where do you expect the bastard to
be?

I should think probably hanging around
the kitchen.

I suggest you get him in here at once.

Very well.

I'll ring for him.

Butler didn't do it after all. And if he
didn't, then who was the mysterious

killer who lurked unseen in the dim
corridors of Brimston Grange?

Piggy Malone and Charlie Farley had
already agreed to sleep in Blanche's

to protect her. Or was it to protect
each other?

One thing was certain.

There would be very little sleep for
anyone that night.

You took me up to heaven when you took
me in your arms.

I was dazzled by your kisses, blinded by
your charms.

I was lost, I was lost in a fool's
paradise, fool's paradise.

Good and lost, good and lost in a fool's
paradise.

When you told me that you love me, I
gave my heart to you.

And I wondered if there could be any
truth in love so new.

I was lost.

I was lost.

In a fool's paradise.

Fool's paradise.

Good and lost.

Good and lost. In a fool's paradise.

The whole world was my kingdom.

And your love was jamming my crown.

Then I saw you glance at a new romance.
And my love came tumbling down.

Though you treat me kind of foolish.

And may never let me know.

That you think I'm being foolish.

Because I love you so.

I still got love.

I still get lost in a fool's paradise.

Fool's paradise.

Lost with you.

Lost with you. In a fool's paradise.

I still get lost.

I still get lost.

Good evening.

Listen to this, by the way, listen to
this.

Mr. Corbett, dear sir, I'm getting tired
of hearing about your new house, which

you bought with money stained with the
sweat and tears of the workers.

You are a capitalist and a lackey of the
imperialist ruling classes.

Major General Sir Groppley Buff Ticket,
KCB.

Grafton Towers and the Athenaeum.

Well,

that's the way I treat those sort of
letters.

Especially if nobody laughs.

And I don't intend to comment any
further, except to say that, believe it

not, I have known what it is to be
short.

For instance, how many of you... Don't
answer now until you've heard this

question. Let me put it another way.
Despite what you might have heard, I do

come from a very, very poor family.

My father was 27 years down the mine,
and his dinner was still in the oven.

And my wife, my wife came from a very
poor family as well.

Her father was a professional carol
singer.

And... When we got married, when we got
married, even her wedding dress was army

surplus.

Now, the wedding reception itself was
quite small, quite a small affair.

Half a pound of fruitcake and a bottle
of tithes were between five and ten.

And two of them were great crashers.

How the memories come flooding back, I
hope. I remember...

I remember it distinctly, I do remember,
because we couldn't afford the church

organ, so we brought our own.

You know, the music wasn't bad, but the
monkey was a bit of a nuisance.

Setting a bad example to the choir.

Then there was this terrible, terrible
mix -up over my wife's flowers from the

florist, and she finally walked down the
aisle with a floral dartboard made of

carnations, which read, Goodbye, Sid,
from the lads at the Rose and Crown.

Unfortunately, unfortunately, her dear
mother could not be there because she

a deserter from the WVS.

She was picked up two years later and
shot, trying to escape.

That's not actually really true, but if
I told you the truth, you'd never

believe me.

And, strangely enough, my wife was in
show business at the time. You know, she

was the girl half of a... Naturally, she
was the girl half of a very bad knife

-throwing act, which explains why she's
a little bit ragged round the edges.

But I'll say no more about that because,
you know, it is depressing me.

It's not that you're a lot of good,
actually.

I could go on for hours, really, about
the hard times. I could tell you about

how we lived in a boarding house and how
we were so hard up that on Sunday

mornings the landlord used to let us go
down and dip our bread in his egg.

My goodness, how my wife has changed. By
Jove. Now, we went on a luxury cruise

last year. It's rather hard to say
luxury cruise. We went on a luxury

last year. Without actually doing that,
you know. If you go luxury cruise, it's

really quite easy.

If you go luxury cruise... We went on a
luxury cruise last year.

I think I talk like that all the time.

We went... Shut that door.

We went on a luxury cruise last year,
and the first day out, the purser, a big

handsome fellow, said, Mrs. Corbett? No,
he didn't. He said, Anne, darling, I...

I knew there was something I meant to
speak to her about.

He said, I put you at the captain's
table for dinner, and she said, I'm

but at these prices, I'm not eating with
the crew.

Which reminds me of a rather... Which
reminds me of a rather amusing incident

that happened to me on a train a few
years ago.

I was en route for... That's one of
these other words, I was en route.

I was en route... for a cruise.

Look at the muck in this place.

I was... I was... I was en

route for Portsmouth to take part in
rather a cheap pantomime, Goldilocks and

the Two Bears.

Or it might have been Robin Hood and his
merry man.

It doesn't matter.

It mattered then, but it doesn't matter
now.

So I got into this compartment with
three or four sailors and a bishop.

So we're going along, and I'm just
sitting there, and the sailors are

one another's hats and generally having
a good time.

One of the sailors, one of the sailors,
a big petty officer,

Was reading the newspaper, you see. Now,
he leaned across to touch the bishop on

the knee.

We had a hell of a job getting him down
off the luggage rack.

Anyway,

we had all settled down, you see. And he
said to the bishop, what I was going to

ask your grace is, what is gout?

And the bishop said, I'm glad you asked
me that.

I don't know why he said that, but he
did. He said, I'm glad you asked me

He said, my good man, gout is a
complaint that you get from drinking too

smoking too much, and going out with
Portsmouth ladies like Lampost Lill and

Hospital Hattie.

That is the cause of the gout. He said,
why do you ask? And the sailor said,

well, it says here that the Archbishop
of Canterbury's got it.

Good evening.

Tonight, we're going to look at Alex
Dovnia's amazing spheroids, now on loan

the British Museum.

We'll be talking to a man who has the
largest collection of plimsolls in Great

Britain. But first, Queen Victoria.

There have been many plays written about
her, and in fact, a new musical is at

this moment in preparation.

The first stage representation of Her
Majesty was, however, in the music hall.

in 1907, performed by a well -known
double act of the time known as Lescombe

Daft.

They received three years in Pentonville
for insulting the Queen's person.

As Lescombe would have said, if he'd
been alive today, get out of that.

We offer you now that same sketch as it
was performed, absolutely verbatim.

Only the words have been changed.

We present Change Here.

For Victoria.

Miss Florence Nightingale and Mr. Oscar
Wilde.

I was talking to Florence just now.

And I said, why don't you get married?

And she said, I'm waiting for my ship to
come in.

And I said, you've been waiting so long,
your jet is collapsed.

We are not amused, silly

queen.

Where is my faithful retainer, John
Brine, the queen's trusted ghillie?

Gilly, gilly. Thank you very much. And
now we'd like to do Anne and

Eagle. It's about time somebody did.

Ah, my dear Mr. Holmes, are you enjoying
the picnic? Indeed, yes, Your Majesty.

Tell me, should we this morning go to
Spitalfield Market, walk through a patch

of damp clay and lean against the red
brick wall at 11 .30 precisely?

No.

Ah, well, just a shot in the dark.

By the way, Your Majesty, I was asked to
give you this message. Oh, thank you

very much, dear Sherlock.

Dear Your Majesty, hoot, I've been a
war, but very, very soon I shall be

returning the new to the old button
bell.

P .S. That's probably me now.

Leave me, everyone. We wish to be alone.

Your Majesty, are you alone?

Yes, John, we are in here.

I thought you said you were alone.

Oh, I am.

I was using the royal wee.

All right, I'll wait till you're
finished.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to
present Five Foot of Fun in the Sparrow,

lovely John Brown.

Thank you very much.

Good evening.

Tonight I was going to give you a little
exhibition of some Highland dancing,

but I washed my kilt last night and I
can't do a flame with it.

Oh dear, how do you write the kilt, Mrs?

BBC tartan. Small checks.

Well, I don't know.

Oh, it's so cold today, isn't it? It's
far too cold for a picnic, so it is.

far too cold for a picnic.

It's far too cold.

Cold enough to freeze the brass buttons
off a flunky, so it is.

I don't know where the wind's coming
from, but I can't well where it's going.

I'm sorry, Your Majesty, to have delayed
you, but I was dashing here on my penny

farthing and I got caught by the
peelers. Oh, how painful.

Tell me, what has been happening while
I've been away?

Oh, quite a lot, dear John, quite a lot.
Dear Charles Dickens gave us a preview

of his little Dorrit.

Oh, really? He sent me a copy of Oliver
yesterday.

Oh, twist.

He must have been when he wrote that,
hasn't he?

Oh, and I had it very sad.

I had a very sad letter from dear Dr
Livingstone.

Apparently, he's been bitten by the
tetsy -tetsy. Oh, where?

On the footsie -wootsie.

But, my dear John, what of you, dear?
Well, I have been very fortunate. I was

one of the beaters at Lady Barragray's
shooting party.

Oh, yes. We got 23 pheasants, 14 grouse,
and 29 partridge. Ah, quite a bag. Oh,

you know her, do you?

Oh,

dear Miss Bailey. Hello, dear. Your
Majesty, the Russians have invited

Constantinople already yet.

And there's wholesale slaughter.

Wholesale slaughter?

Yes, and I ordered retail.

And there's trouble in the canal.

Oh, but there's nothing.

Nothing, she said.

If you knew Sue Will, like I know Sue
Will. Oh, oh, oh, what a mess.

Great crested tit.

Why did you say that, dear? Well, I
haven't said a dicky butt for five

I'm going to warn you, dear, I shall
have to be off soon because I'm going to

France on business.

There's a fast packet in the harbour.
Oh, let her wait.

There's something very important I have
to say to you, John, as my trusted

gilly. Something very important
transpired yesterday,

my dear.

I think I can say that I'm still in the
first flush of womanhood.

If that's your first flush deal, there's
something wrong with your plumbing.

No, you know I adore you. I adore the
hurry of your skinkle and the way you

sleek it grab me too.

And I apologise.

Apologise? Why? Well, I might have said
something dirty.

Oh, my English rose, be mine before the
green fly gets you. Be mine, my proud

beauty. I'm not proud.

No, you're no beauty either.

Will you marry me, my dear?

I cannot marry you. You're a commoner.
I'll have you know I'm in bark spirits.

What has a bookmark?

That's the second offer we've had in two
days, you know. Only yesterday, dear

General Gordon made us a proposal. He
was hardly in the room. No wonder they

call him Flash Gordon.

Well, who is it to be, him or me?

I'm afraid, dear Johnny, it can be
neither of you.

You see, England needs me.

There is so much to do and so little
time.

I am but the servant of my people, and
it will always be so.

It is my privilege, my duty, and my
destiny.

And so, you see, dear Johnny, Our
marriage can never be. Oh, I don't know,

though.

Dear Albert wouldn't mind, would you,
dear?

I'll feed his eggs. Oh, there he is.
Poor dear, ever since the Crystal

he's been making an exhibition of
himself.

Now I'd like to sing the song that made
me famous.

Recorded on HMV. Yes, Her Majesty's
voice entitled, Turn Your Lamp Down,

Florence. It's getting on me wick. Thank
you.

John Brown's body is the one that I
adore.

He sweeps me off my feet although he's
only five foot four.

His legs are strong and hairy and they
reach right to the floor. How I love my

little John.

Glory, glory, hallelujah.

Victoria is going to woo you.

You really got it coming to you.

Hold your hat on little John.

Victoria, Victoria, you're all the world
to me.

I really must see more of you. There's
plenty there to see.

You're the finest range of mountains
from the Trossachs to Dundee. How she

her little John.

When we dally with Disraeli, we are
really not amused. But my Johnny's

whimsicalities just cannot be refused.

Do you want to dance the hornpipe? Do I
want to be excused? How she loves her

little John.

Thank you.

Well, that's all for this week. Next
week, we shall be talking to Fanny

Craddock, who announced this evening
that she is to join Women's Lib.

When she was asked if this would mean
she would be burning her bra, she said,

no, darling, I'll 30 it with onions and
a little white wine.

Now, finally, some late news items.

It is ten years exactly since the
president of Karamba, Senor Carioca, had

unfortunate encounter with the
steamroller.

In the Caramban capital today, a
portrait of the president was unveiled.

The painting is life -size, 38 foot long
and two inches wide.

Short -sighted Lady Myopia Potheringay
opened the new haberdashery centre at

Slough today by cutting a ceremonial
ribbon.

As she did so, a large crowd cheered and
her knickers fell down.

And finally, in Covent Garden today, Mr.
Dudley Arkwright ate 622 radishes in 6

minutes and 23 seconds.

Unfortunately, this doesn't count as a
world record, as he had a following win.

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