All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s04e02

Good evening. Good evening. It's very
nice to be with you for the start of a

brand new series, isn't it? Yes, it is.
Yes, it is. And in a packed program

tonight, Antonio, the famous Spanish
dancer, will be showing us how to dance

fandango with his fan in one hand and
his dango in the other.

And we'll be talking to a one -fingered
pickpocket who only steals

polo mints.

But meanwhile, here is the news. The
National Coal Board are pleased to

that there was no absenteeism in British
pits last month.

All the absentees stayed at home.

Mr Arnold Limpkin, the famous one
-legged tap dancer, retired today.

A special programme tonight features
some of his greatest hits, like I Could

Have Hopped All Night, Knee Up, Mother
Brown,

And 20 tiny fingers, 15 tiny toes.

But here is a motoring flash.

On the A30 this evening, a tanker load
of bleach on its way to the West Country

overturned on a notorious accident black
spot, turning it immediately into a

notorious accident white spot.

And a vicar who rode his bicycle the
wrong way up the M1 was asked how he

managed to avoid an accident. He
replied, God was with me, and was

charged with riding two on a bike.

Yes, and there was an accident today
involving Britain's worst goalkeeper,

Barclay, who has already let through 157
goals this season.

Shouting out, I'm a complete failure,
Barclay threw himself in front of a bus.

Luckily, the bus passed under him and he
wasn't hurt.

Drive to improve the standards of
service and hygiene. A West End hotel

dismissed a waiter for having his thumb
in the soup.

They also dismissed a topless waitress
for two similar offences.

In the sketch that follows, the public
and private life of Samuel Pepys, I play

the public parts and Ronnie Corbett.

Ronnie Corbett plays the piano.

Morning. Morning.

What can I do for you then?

Is the watchmaker in?

I'm the watchmaker.

What do I look like then?

Cedric, cut it down, would you?

Call yourselves Frick out of here.

Don't worry about that, sir.

Very noisy business, stringing poles,
you know.

Charlie, what could I do you for, sir?
Well, it's my watch. Oh, isn't that a

dainty little piece, eh? Isn't it
lovely? What's the matter with you, my

boy, eh?

Well,

he needs adjusting.

He's losing a bit. Oh, losing a bit, are
you, you little monk?

Right. Well, Susie, have you walked for
it? No, no, wait a minute.

It's not as important as that. You
mustn't do that. Well, you said he was

a bit. Well, only a couple of hours a
day. Nothing to worry about. Oh, we

have that, sir. No, no, I'll still knock
him into shape. Let's have a bit of

space here, will you?

Wait a minute.

Right.

He's not very slim, is he, eh? Would you
like it a bit slimmer? No, no, I like

it fat like that. Oh, you like it fat.
Oh, all right. Then please yourself.

Now, how do we get the back off this?
Oh, it's one of them, is it?

You haven't got one of those things for
getting the stones out of horses' boy

scouts, have you?

Look, I don't want to waste your
valuable time. Valuable time?

Time is my life's work, my dear sir.

Ah.

You know what's the matter with this
toaster? What's that? Well, it don't go

anymore.

Well, at least I'll know it'll be
correct. you know, twice a day. Ah, but

about the rest of the days? I would have
been right somewhere in the world,

wouldn't it? Hong Kong, Rady Vostok. And
I won't get that annoying ticking.

No, I'm sorry. I can't let this little
monkey out of my hands, otherwise

all want to do it, see. You must show
them who's the boss, that's the idea.

Is it walk -proof?

Oh, most of them are. Never mind.

I'll get the beer out. I've just got to
get the back off. Of course, they're

like little Brazil nuts, you know, these
little devils.

And he's modern once, you know. Old
Arthur, he ruptured himself on an omega

other day.

He's only winding it up at all.

There's a bit of purchase on the little
beggars. That's a trouble.

You don't know anyone who wants any
panels beaten out or horseshoes or

like that. No, I don't know. The
bottom's dropped out of that, you know.

I'll fix it for you. Don't worry.

A couple of rivets won't put right, sir.
Here, I'll put the bits in the bag for

you. There you are, so no extra charge.

Well, listen, I shall have to buy a new
watch now.

Oh, all right, yes.

Hey, Harper, where's Charlie?

Ah,

you wanted a new watch?

Well, that gentleman, your friend, has
just gone out, smashed my watch.

Fourth thing, we're buying a new one. I
mean, it's a confidence thing. Well,

this is a nice one, sir.

£20. Good Lord, is that the time?

Yes. Well, I'm supposed to be down at
the hospital.

Oh, you know what you say, going down to
the hospital?

You see where you dropped me off?

Eh? I'm a doctor now, only part -time,
you know. What's the matter with you,

then? Well, I've got headaches, pains in
the head. The head? Oh, your head will

have to come off, definitely.

No,

no, no, look at the words on the
prompter there, all written up. Just

out. I'll take that.

I am a spokesman for the Ministry of...
What's it?

Communications.

And we thought it would be a good idea
if I came along this evening and told

all what was... I mean, tried to explain
the whole... Put you... Put you in

it.

The picture as to what the folk...

think they're doing, know they're doing,
and I should know what they're doing,

because I am one of them.

One of them.

I should know what I'm doing, but I
don't.

Want you to think that we, at the, where
is it, the

ministry, are sitting down on our fat
chance we get to sit down.

are constantly on each other's toes as
secretaries.

Secretaries are buzzing around, making
tea and men's meat, and each girl giving

her utmost to whoever needs it.

And when I say her utmost, I mean most
of her utmost.

Not that I want you to think that we
have anything.

to hide. The Ministry of Communicles?

Communicles?

Communicles?

Communications? It cannot be compared
with, I mean, it's nothing like a water

closet. As the Ministry itself said, we
don't want any bugs in this Ministry.

I'm the only big bug around here.

Yes, I think that's what he said.

And, of course, he's absolutely parched.

Oh, perfectly right.

I say, it's damn stifling in here. Does
anyone mind if I open a bottle?

Oh, thank you very much.

Because it does get damn hot in here,
you know.

Oh, that's it.

been said many times, and indeed, who am
I?

I repeat, who am I?

Who am I?

A mere moss -broth to argue.

He said at the last Common Market
Assembly, and here I quote,

Trousers to cleaners.

Liquid paraffin boots.

And what a sorry picture that presents
of the country today.

We stand here figuratively speaking at
the crossroads of men of this women, men

of this women, men of the women of this
country having been taken to the

cleaners, trousers, slipping and sliding
our boots filled with liquid paraffin

on the downward path that leads to the
upward spiral of inflation.

knowing that we must move in ever
-decreasing circles, finally

our only chance of standing tall and
sleeping off, sweated up, back -to -back

noses to the wall, best foot forward,
knees together and legs astride.

We must all push in the same direction.

I will be the first to join in the fun,
bearing in mind that I include women in

this because women are, in a sense,
lumped together.

At least the ones I know are.

Finally, in confusion, I would like to
say unequivocal.

I would like to say unequivocal.

I would like, but I can't.

But what I can say is this, peace.

Peace, that's what we all want. And we
cannot get this alone.

We must combine with the best of the
rest of Europe.

And that is why I am meeting the French
minister for communications directly

after this broadcast.

In his own words, we go out and get
peace together.

Marseille, city of intrigue, smuggling
centre for the drugs traffic of the

Western world.

Crime lurks behind every corner, filth
and degradation in every gutter. And

worst of all, the town, like most places
abroad, is crawling with foreigners.

Venice, memorial to the lost glories of
the Renaissance, and the only town in

Europe to have found a way of keeping
prostitution off the streets.

But our story begins many miles from
teeming, steaming Marseille.

Not on the banks of the Grand Canal in
Venice, but on the banks of the Grand

Union Canal in Watford.

Piggy Malone, overweight private
detective, and his undernourished

Charlie Farley, failed undergraduate and
former hitman for the Brownies.

And Charlie was about to teach his boss
the gentle art of fishing.

This, Chief.

This. It's called a float.

Guess why?

Because it sinks?

It does.

I shall have to take that one back.

It's supposed to float, you see.

No point in calling it a float if it
sinks.

Floats that sink, that's a contradiction
in terms, isn't it?

I mean, sinks don't float, do they?

Terrible what people throw in the canals
these days, isn't it?

That float hasn't come up, has it?

You've had that. Oh, got plenty more of
these.

We've come here to enjoy ourselves,
haven't we?

Now, I tell you what.

You get the lunchboxes out.

I shall be over there adjusting my
tackle.

I'd like to spread it all out in the
grass.

Bread's a bit stale.

Can you only meet with it? That's the
bait, Chief.

Are the worms all right?

They're okay.

Oh, dear.

Now, here's your rod, Chief.

Are you? Um, I think I'd better watch
you first, because I've never watched

anyone fishing, you know.

Now, there's a lot of nonsense talked
about fishing, Chief.

Nothing complicated to it at all.

Three. Golden rules.

Three things you've got to do.

My grandad told me that when I was that
high.

When was that, last week?

Be fair.

Now, look, never mind all that. He said,
never mind all that crap, he said.

There are three things you must remember
to do.

Make sure the bait is on the hook.

Make sure the line is on the rod.

Throw it into the water.

Right? Three things, Chief. Right.

See that the bait is on the hook.

Bait on the hook.

See that the line is attached to the
rod?

Correct.

And the last thing?

Throw it in the water. Got it.

Now go on.

No, not the rod in the water.

The, uh... Oh, let's go and have lunch
and we'll think the whole thing through.

Yeah.

Rest the rods in these.

Don't even have to hold them.

Safe as houses. Just sit back and enjoy
the solitude.

At least we can forget all the worries
of all those criminal cases.

Both of those criminal cases.

Allowing your dog to foul the footway is
hardly a criminal offence, is it? Not

in the ordinary course of events.

Granted. But this is hardly the ordinary
course of events.

Not when a High Court judge steps in.

Not on its own doorstep, was it?

Most of it was, yes.

Yes, you have a case that fascinates me
most.

What, the Breacher Promise case? Yeah.

Have you seen her?

No, that would be criminal. Why? If he
had to marry her.

I've got a bite.

Are you the two famous British

detectives on holiday?

What are you doing down there, my good
man?

He's a frog banshee.

I know that. I can tell by his accent.

I still don't know what he's doing down
there.

Top secret.

Read this.

Who are you?

Undercover man.

More like an underwater man.

No stupid jokes.

If you please.

Meanwhile, further up the bank, two
figures watch the scene with interest.

Peculiar.

Frogman, over there.

Talking to two idiots on the bank.

They're up to no good. I'll be bound.

Now, now, sir, don't get involved. We're
on holiday, remember?

Frogman probably feel the need for
conversation the same as anyone else.

Fishy.

Oh, dear.

I don't think this holiday's doing you
any good at all.

I can tell you no more now, except that
it is a case of international

importance.

It is imperative that you meet the head
of MI6 at once.

The fate of nations is at stake.

Hoping this finds you as it leaves me in
the pink.

Yours ever, British Intelligence.

What do you say, Charlie?

Do we take the case?

International importance?

We can hardly refuse, can we?

I don't know. I mean, I've got that
roast chicken in the oven.

Roast chicken?

You can't think about roast chicken at a
time like this.

The fate of nations at stake.

I've done roast potatoes around it and
everything.

Oh, God, have you?

Could we report a bit later on?

It must be at once.

You're on.

Where do we go?

Follow me!

Well,

I knew they threw the little ones back.

I didn't think they threw the fat ones
as well.

What is the murky secret of the canal?

Is the MI6 running Watford?

What will happen to Charlie's roast
chicken?

Don't miss next week.

Passage to Marseille.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Maestro played the music upside down.
Then upon one knee he tells them all

he believes there's no one like his dear
old ma.

Why did I ever roam from my Kentucky
home and leave behind that dear old

don't know.

Another hit, a smash, they're on their
feet and a -plodding with another

show.

Back in the dressing room, flowers and
French perfume, everyone said, Pink,

champagne.

Now they're calling the casting call to
celebrate the success of the show.

Overflowing from limousines, lovely
ladies from fashion magazines.

All the folk at the Grand Hotel
congratulate him on doing so well.

From the coast to the coast, he is the
one they love most, the entertainer.

He can hear on call coming from the
gloom. There's no one there he can drink

with. No one to reminisce or think with.
From an old suitcase

takes a photograph of a young girl's
face in a checkered scarf. My baby, your

daddy loves you.

It won't be long before I'm home.

Lonely breakfast on the train with old
Flandreau, yet another town to win.

While he's at the town, no need to stop
and worry. When the show's a flop, well

then it's time to hurry. Get with every
draw, from Snark or Francis Curry, from

the stinking ship. In the meantime, sell
our show tonight.

Behind the stage they're saying, do I
look alright?

To the swing of the ragtime rage The
entertainer comes on to the

stage In the spotlight he looks a case
With a comic expression

on his face

Then a wink and a little pause.

He's taming love to accept the applause.

They all want him to know they love the
star of the show. The entertainer is

ready to go.

They all want him to know they love the
star of the show. The entertainer is

ready to go.

Hello, Nigel. Long time no see.

Hello.

How are you? Oh, I'm fine. Can't
complain.

Keep him busy, you know.

Like your hair's shorter.

Must have been a weight, too, haven't
you?

No, I didn't. Oh, you have, you know.

You used to have a real little tummy
down there, didn't you?

Well,

I'd best get on.

No peace for a working girl.

Really nice to see you, Nigel.

Well, get off at nine. Ring me.

Well, what the hell was all that about?

Look, don't you start.

I'm going to have enough trouble
explaining you to her.

I am trying to find the theological
college. I am to deliver a speech there

evening, but I feel that I am lost.

Oh, you want to go straight past the
Albion fish and chip shop, right at the

Choo Chin Chow takeaway, straight on
past the kebab house, and then left at

New Bengal restaurant. You can't miss
it.

Oh, thank you very much.

No, no, no, sir. There's a much better
way than that. You go straight past the

police station, bear left at the
vandalized phone box, straight through

traffic lights, up the street where it
says no entry, Park on the zigzag lines

near the zebra crossing. It's right
opposite. Can't miss it. Oh, thank you.

I think I know a far better way, Vicar.
You know, you go straight up the high

street, past the Green Man and White
Bear, right at the Cricketers, left at

Burnside Hotel, past the Marks of Granby
and on to the Elephant. What happens

when I get to the Elephant? You take the
trunk road.

Then you go as far as the Bull and turn
left. Right.

No, left.

Then you go on past the coaching horses
and left again at what's yours?

What's yours?

Awfully kind of. I'm going to have a wee
rally.

No, left, dear, left. And right at the
Royal Oak. No, no, no. You want to go

left at the strip club, right at the
knicker factory, then left again at

Sandy's.

I do think I would know where Randy
Sandy's is. Oh, you can't miss it. She's

a big notice in the window. Sandy, 38,
26, 38, optician.

Swedish glasses of speciality.

Sandy's an optician, is she?

Optician, my eye.

No, no, he wants to go... I think he
wants to go right past the fountain inn.

No, no, no, no. You'll want to take the
shortcut past Frilly Lily's.

Well, where's Frilly Lily? Oh, you can't
miss it. It's the house with the big

overhanging gables, you know.

I've got a big notice outside saying,
Lily, 382638, chiropodist.

Swedish pedicure is a speciality.

Is she a chiropodist? Chiropodist, my
foot.

I still say it's going to be quicker and
far better for him to go left at the

have another.

Have another?

Off the kind of you. I'm going to have a
wee brandy.

Right. No, no, left.

Go left at the dirty bookshop.

Or right at the dirty duck. Right.
That's right. No, left. Left. That's

Right. No, left.

Right, then left.

Right, then left. Right, then left,
left.

Wrong. Right, left, right.

Right. Left. Wrong.

Right.

Perhaps we'd better start again.

Listen, you want to go straight past the
seven stars, the six bells, the five

swans, the four feathers, the three
jolly farmers, the two cricketers, the

partridge in the pear tree. Then you go
left at one for the road.

One for the road? Awfully kind of you.
I'm going to have a wee.

Right. No left.

He had the axe and compasses. No, no,
no. He's right at the axe and compasses

and left at Baggy Aggie's. He doesn't
know where Baggy Aggie's is. It's easy.

So is Baggy Aggie.

He's got a notice in the window. You
can't miss it. It says, Baggy Aggie, 38,

26, 38, qualified nurse, Swedish
injections of speciality.

Does she do injections? Injections my
backside.

I'm afraid I'm finding this all rather
confusing.

Look, it's awfully simple, really it is.

It's right at the axe and two large
ones.

Two large ones? Oh, that's very kind of
you.

Now, it's not the two large ones. No,
it's right at the injection and

That's what you want. No, no, it's left
at the injection and compasses and right

at the nurse and crowd. Oh, well, of
course, if you're going to go that way,

go left at the coach and chiropodist.
Right at the five baggy opticians. Left

the four frilly backsides. Right at the
three randy thandies. Left at the two

dirty girdies. Right at the left luggage
opposite the stoning faggot. Yeah, left

at the right luggage opposite Stoney
Joanie, who's a right faggot. And right

the left luggage opposite Busty Dusty,
who's a stoning faggot. Yeah, you can't

miss it.

Yes, well, thank you for your efforts.
I'll do my best.

You know... He'll never find that in a
month of Sunday

school. Yes, as well. We shan't have to
listen to him at the meeting, shall we?

They say he's a rotten speaker. I don't
know how we're going to get there. I've

only been once before in my life. Do you
know how we're going to get there? Left

and St. Peter's, I think. No, it's right
to St. Peter's, left to St. Andrew's.

No, no, it's left to St. Andrew's, right
to...

I

must... I must tell you... a very, very
funny joke.

Now, it's about two men who go to
heaven.

Now, they go to heaven because they're
both a bit, um,

um, D -E -A -D.

Now, I said D -E -A -D because there
might be somebody watching who's a

bit sensitive about people saying dead.

Sorry.

I said it.

Like this morning. Now, I was... I was
having a row with my wife, and she said

to me, Don't keep saying bloody in front
of the K .I .D. yet.

Now, I've got to be a bit careful what I
say, because she is in the audience

here tonight.

If I'm not mistaken, second row up,
third in on the left.

I am mistaken. It's Arthur Mullard.

I'm mustering the bottle factory and see
if my new glasses are ready yet.

But seriously, this is rather a special
evening because it is exactly ten years

ago tonight when she said, I do.

Which certainly surprised me because I
didn't think she did.

And to be honest, anything I say about
my wife is said in fun.

I mean, yesterday, I heard a comedian...

Or was it Des O 'Connor?

He said, he said, my wife is so thin
that when she's under the shower, she

to walk about to get wet.

Now, I wouldn't say that. I wouldn't,
because it would hurt her feelings.

Because she is unusually thin.

As a matter of fact, when I first picked
her up in the snooker hall, I thought

she was a cube.

She was wearing a brown dress and a
little blue hat.

And before I knew it, I'd chalked her
and got a break of 46.

No, no, no, sorry. Now I'm exaggerating
it.

I got a red and a green and a... But
whatever I say about her, she is a

wonderful mother.

She knows both the children by name.

She takes them to school in the morning.

and waits there all day to bring them
home at night.

Which doesn't leave much time for the
housework.

As a matter of fact, the house is so
dirty, sometimes you have to wipe your

to go out in the street.

And the cooking is down to the minimum.

We are actually the only family in
Croydon with a season ticket for the

chip shop.

But I would not swap her.

I would not swap her for anything in the
world.

Unless there happens to be someone
looking in who is desperately lonely and

got a gearbox for a B registration
Vauxhall vehicle.

Anyway, back to the joke while I can
still remember it.

The two fellas up there, you know, doing
the old wings and nightshirt bit.

One says to the other, he said, hello
there, he said, where are you from?

The other one says, I'm from Scranton,
New Jersey, USA.

The other one says, that is peculiar
because, by the way, I mentioned

New Jersey, because my wife's family
come from there. You know, I thought I'd

give them a little mention.

You know,

it helps, doesn't it? As a matter of
fact, they were one of the real old

families.

And as another matter of fact, her great
-grandfather was actually killed at

Custer's Last Stand.

He didn't actually take part in the
fighting, you know. He was camping

and he went over to complain.

And he went over to complain about the
noise.

He was apparently a great character when
he was alive, you know.

When he was dead, he got a bit ordinary.

Now, he would have been a fighting man.

But he didn't fancy the cavalry, and he
failed his medical for the Indians.

Actually, to be honest, the family don't
talk about him a lot, you know.

I get the impression that out there
where men are men, old Buffalo Cyril was

bit of a novelty.

So the other chap says, back to the
story, up in heaven.

The wings and nightshade. But this other
chap, if you can remember. He said,

that is funny. He said, because I am
from Scranton, New Jersey myself, he

And I only got here yesterday.

And the first fellow said, so did I. I
only arrived here, he said, peculiarly

enough, yesterday afternoon.

The other chap said, what happened to
you? He said, well, I tell what

He said, I suspected that my wife was
having an affair with this guy at 824th

Street, North Scranton, New Jersey.

So I went up to his apartment.

There she was, but I couldn't find him
anywhere, he said, so I started to wreck

the place in my temper.

He said, first I got hold of the freezer
and I lifted it bodily and threw it out

of the window into the street four
floors below.

Too much for the old ticker, I suppose,
he said, so here I am.

He said to the other chap, he said, how
did you get here?

The other fellow said, well, he said, I
was... I was in this freezer,

he said.

There's been a revolution in Abdication
Street where dear old Ina Sharples and

Minnie Caldwell meet. The show is really
lively. It's going with a bang.

For now they sit and gossip to the tunes
George Farmy sang.

We've been leaning on the table.

Swapping lines, supping beers.

We sat so long, we both got cauliflower
ears.

I hate this lot, and that's the truth.
That Jerry Booth is so uncouth.

only one I can stand.

Stood at bar, looking grand.

With his little ukulele in his hand.

Oh, I do miss that young Elsie Tanner.

Ran off with that family planner.

He had such a nice bedside nanner.

Well, his planning went astray. She's in
the family way.

We carry on. That Rita's gone. Another
one?

What's she doing now? Me, oh, my.

She's leaning on the lamppost at the
corner of the street, rattling keys at

the he's that's passing by.

There goes that Hilda Ogden. Oh, where's
her husband, Stan?

Wait until you hear about that.

Fat, disgusting man.

He's got a wenchant neighbourhood.

He what she like? A worthless dud with a
shape like a fallen Yorkshire pud and a

face like Tommy Trinders. He takes his
bike out for a ride, goes round to her

all starry -eyed. He knocks three times
and goes inside.

And he's not cleaning windows.

Can't reach the window cleaner, fancy
Zilda, so I hear.

He's got a mini Cooper.

Well, nobody's perfect, dear.

He found out something wrong. She took
her turban off by gum. She's as bald as

baby. Well... Now he's back in the
windage.

Oh, look, there's Albert Tatlock. He's
dressed up to beat the band.

He's kissing Annie Walker.

What's he holding in her hand? It's his
little sticker, Black Bull Rock.

He gave it to her. Who?

Tatlock.

Is he new barman?

Aye, mucky old pup.

He kissed her on the cellar, stepped and
worked his way up.

It's perfectly clear he's not here for
the beer, cos last night till two o

'clock they both sat there canoodling,
drinking pints of milk stout. I'm quite

surprised at all, but he looks old and
worn out. The only thing he's got in

worth bragging about is his little stick
of black bull rock.

What's this I view?

Oh, kindly put away your dirty laundry,
dear.

It's then Fairclough's flannel late
night shirt.

He stayed with me Tuesday night. What
next?

Oh, he did have fun when nightlight were
dim.

I bet he felt old age creeping upon him.

And we whacked back the gin.

Local vicar came in.

I said, have a drink. He answered just
this word.

When we last saw Reverend Fleet, he was
rolling down the street dressed in

Lenzo.

Lordy, lordy. In Lenzo.

What can we do?

We've been stuck in this bar since 1962.

I sip with Ena and suck right with Ena.

I've sucked so much my tongue is turning
blue.

Where's Annie's lad?

He's taken Betlin to do the flickers. I
hope she's got her handbag because

she'll need it for her ticket.

It's plain to see.

We're doomed to do or die for bloody
ITV.

There may come a day when we'll both get
away from Granada.

And we'll both turn up in Crossroads
just you seeing.

Turn it out nice again.

Next week, a famous millionaire reveals
how it feels to have piles of gold.

Wealthy but uncomfortable.

And now news from the court. In the
Central Divorce Court today, a Lady

Voyant was granted a divorce on the
grounds of her husband's adultery next

weekend in Brighton.

Here's the late news.

Mr. Healy gave some interesting figures
on education today. In the greater

London area, one half of the population
can't read, one half can't write, and

the other three quarters can't hide out.

A West Drayton man who kept himself
awake by snoring every night for 17

has at last found the answer. He's going
to sleep in another room.

And finally...

Finally, sport.

At the nudist pentathlon at Crystal
Palace this afternoon was won by

Orville Stark.

He was fourth in the 100 metres, third
in the long jump, second in the low

hurdles, had an accident in the high
hurdles, and was first in the yodelling.

So it's good night from me, and it's
good night from him. Good night.