All language subtitles for benny_hill_s06e06_1989

You have made a lovely job of that
ceiling, love.

Lavender, is it?

No, lark.

Ah. The milkman said he was going to
have his done the same colour.

Ah. What seems to be the trouble?

Well, Doctor, to tell you the truth, I'm
a compulsive liar.

I find that hard to believe.

What? You take the baby, I'll take the
egg. Oh, all right.

Otherwise, you'll drop them.

All right, Dad, I'll leave you here, all
right.

Well, now, how are we?

Not too bad, Doctor, for 92.

Of course, I have to get

up a lot in the night to go and...

Of a tinkle, you know.

At your age, that's only to be expected.

He don't bother me.

You know, cos he... God always turns the
light on for me.

And when I've finished, God turns the
light out.

Mrs Tibbs? Yes?

Has he, um... Has he gone religious?

He says when he gets up at night to go
to the, um... God turns the light on for

him. And when he's finished...

God turns the light out.

Oh, Lord.

You've been doing it in the fridge
again, haven't you?

It's jolly nice to be here. Where have
you been then?

I've been up in London, I have. Oh,
there's a lot of clever dicks in London.

Do you know what?

They put thelium in their fertilizer.

What they do that for?

Well, you see, it comes to haunt them
and the leaves fall off the trees.

They float upwards.

You don't have to sweep them up.

Oh, and I tell you, talking about
floating upwards, do you know what?

worried about the ozone layer up in
London, do you know what they do? They

use fly spray no more.

What do they do, then? They spray them
with perfume.

Well, does that kill them, then? No, it
don't kill them, but it makes them feel

sexy, and you can swat on two at a time.

Oh, Flo from Fulham went to see her
Padre and said, a young man has just

in next door to me.

He kissed me and caressed me, and now I
feel that I should confess that I need

him constantly.

Now the Padre said, well, if this need
is honest and true, then it is a need

that you should be enjoying.

She said, I don't mean to say that I
need him that way. What I mean is I need

him in the groin.

In Brisbane, I met Mrs. Tibbs. She got
27 kids. I love kids, said her husband

with a smile.

I said, I think you go too far. I mean,
I love a good cigar, but at least I take

it out once in a while.

I met Slaughter, our stagy.

She is a perfect lady, goes down to the
harbour when she wants to stick.

Well, see, by that core, I saw her write
a cheque for 50 ,000 quid, then light

her fag with it.

Well, dear old Peggy Sue, when a bloke
of 92, the old boy died of ecstasy, he

did.

It took the Undertaker seven days to
wipe the smile from off his face and

another two to close the coffin lid.

Oh, I would have liked one of them pork
pies.

You can have one after you tell us it's
done.

Oh, all right then.

There's a chicken in a library.

Book, book, book.

The librarian gave her three.

Book, book, book.

And so the chicken clucked off home.

With two mils and boon and one
defriacha.

Cha -cha -cha!

The next day she went back for a book,
book, book.

The librarian followed her to take a
look, look, look.

And he found her on a log with a frog.

Who was saying, read it, read it, read
it, read it, read the blooming log.

You naughty man.

Are you following me? Your name,
exquisite creature.

I beg you, tell me your name.

They call me Miss Buttercup, dear little
Buttercup, though I will never know

why.

I say, Mrs.

Buttercup, lift your left buttock up.
You're sitting on your own.

I'm high and in your arms, I'm solid and
pure.

the kind that the gentry prefer.

I wear satin and lace. I walk with easy
grace.

Easy grace ain't as easy as a... I dress
with good taste. I've always

been jealous.

And most of the time she's been caught.

And when she eats me for meals then I
wear my high heels.

Because she don't like to sell herself
short.

We wait with our local mare to see the
grizzly bear at that big zoo outside

Frome. But as they drove west, a big
sign said, Bear left.

They turned around and come home.

How would she wave? Oh, you think you're
so brave with your wicked, malicious

chit -chat?

Well, take that and take that, sir. Take
that and take that, sir. Take that and

take that.

I'll take that.

You can't leave. You've got to call the
square dance.

No one does it like you do.

The girl's been talking, have they?

Oh, bend down, girls, and touch your
toes. I'm going to show you where the

goose goes. Move your partner around and
then... promenade and back again.

If you shake the ketchup bottle, none'll
come and then a lot'll. Chippity -chop,

chippity -chick, and get to that stale,
but you gotta be quick.

Finish up that water beer, then skip to
the loo, my darlings.

Oh, Charlie's daughter Lolita swallowed
a thermometer in the winter. She looks

fine, but in the summer she's eight feet
nine. Don't excuse me tonight while I

give these folks some good advice.

Eat a plate of beans on Sunday, have a
bubble bath on Monday.

and you feel she'd like some real
romance, off to the woods and take a

Oh, come on. Get in. Over there.

Daily Star, Daily Mirror, and from
tomorrow, The Daily Scuttle.

Yes, tomorrow morning, Britain's newest
tabloid, The Daily Scuttle, hits the

streets. With me, the man behind it all,
Editor -in -Chief, Mr. Fred Scuttle.

With me on, sir.

And hello to all our wonderful readers.

From your caring, sharing, ever so
daring number one daily scuttle.

What makes you so sure you're going to
be number one? Because we are the

newspaper that speaks out, faces facts
and names names.

Who's your proprietor? I'd rather not
say.

I suppose during the last few days
you've been having the dry runs.

I believe some of the lads have.

I don't know whether it's nerves or the
curry powder. You can't tell.

How did you prepare?

Did you get advice from old newspaper
men?

Oh, indeed.

Only last week I was talking to Derek
Jameson, through his interpreter.

paper trade.

Well, tell him not on the floor.

On the Sunday sport.

Because it's thicker.

You were saying, sir... You talked to a
newspaper man. I talked to dozens of

them, sir, yes. And what did you learn?

I learned that the byword is integrity,
sir.

To be successful, a newspaper must not
only have, but must be seen to have

integrity.

And once you've learned to fake that,
sir... You're laughing, sir.

Who... Who's your TV critic?

Nina Cowpat.

Nina Cowpat?

Ugly enough.

Yes, sir, her.

Yes, indeed, sir.

Television's most controversial cricket.

Controversial? Oh, yeah, well, a lot of
people think she's as thick as two

planks, sir.

Of course, there are others who think
she's quite stupid.

I suppose, like the other tabloids, your
paper will set out to titillate.

To what, sir?

To titillate.

Two titillates?

Sounds like a baby waiting for his
breakfast.

Are you going to emulate all those page
three girls?

Not all of them, sir. Not with my back.

Let me put it another way.

Put it whichever way you feel most
comfortable, sir.

It's up to you, isn't it?

Will you have pin -ups of half -naked
models?

We'll have pin -ups, but not just
models, sir.

Pin -ups of the famous...

Edwina Curry.

Hot stuff.

Phew, what a scorcher.

Marge Proops all over the centre pages.

I've heard.

Gloria Honeyford.

Barefoot. All over.

That's brought the colour back to your
cheeks, hasn't it, eh? It's green, but

it's colour.

Claire Rayner on page three.

And page four and page five and page
six.

Manning, photographed on his birthday
wearing a suit suitable for the

And Edward Heath sitting on his dinghy.
In the channel?

No, in the bus, sir.

Well, it's what the pillocks who read
are.

It's what our wonderful readers like to
read, sir.

Which story will you lead with tomorrow?

This one here, sir.

Read it and weep.

Passionate Parliament.

Wild and wicked Westminster.

Benches go bonkers by Big Ben.

And you have to be sober when you say
that.

Lofty lefties and Tory temptress in all
-night sitting.

Members exposed.

Yes, they work hard, play hard and hold
hands hard.

Please yourself.

Yes, I have seen behind...

My suspicions was aroused when I seen on
the wall what looked like a skull and

crossbones. I was later assured it was a
photograph of Norman Tebbit in a

sleeveless shirt.

Nearby sat Nigel Lawson, singing There's
a Hole in My Budget, Dear Maggie, Dear

Maggie, to the Prime Minister, who was
wearing a fair old sweater,

riding boots and john -oppers.

She said, I want my chief whip.

As she gave Roy Hattersley a funny look.

Funnier than the one he already had.

She sidled up to Michael Heseltine.
Hello, sailor, she quilped.

I want to get hold of the black rod.

Hearing this, Bernie Grant...

nearby, blanched visibly and made his
excuses and left. Yes, it is no wonder,

sir, that they won't allow the
television cameras in that den of any

Next week, why Nicholas Ridley had to
leave his council flat in Park Lane.

Gone thought.

Why Neil Kinnock dare not go back to his
hometown of Glasgow.

And the truth about Enoch Powell and
Tina Turner.

That is junk journalism at its worst.
I've never heard such piffle.

Piffle? It's full of piss.

Absolute rubbish.

I'd be very careful if I was you, Mr.
McGee, if that is your real name.

Otherwise, we may have to deny those
salacious rumours that are going around

about your strange love life.

But there are no rumours.

It can be arranged.

Asian stews.

Variety veteran.

In amazing love riddle shock.

is having a torrid affair with a senior
producer's wife. It was revealed today.

That's not true.

All right, then it was claimed today.

But in big letters.

I don't know any producer's wives. They
all say that.

Have you ever heard my honesty question?

I've never heard it mentioned, sir.

But it's not true.

All right, so then we will print a
refraction.

In six weeks' time.

On page 28.

In little tiny letters.

Underneath the small ads.

For surgical stockings and dirty phone
calls.

But I wouldn't give something for your
life after that. You'd have no cocoa for

months.

But what makes you think people are
going to buy your paper instead of

Because we give them what they want,
sir. We give them headlines.

Headlines that tell it all.

Succinct. Look at that, sir.

Human bomb goes off on honeymoon.

You see, sir? And the next one, sir.
Look at that. Show me.

Show me.

Ain't my helicopter.

And this one, sir.

City life.

Yes, city life, sir. Yes.

And this one, sir. Scandal.

Cocktail waitress claims... Larry
Grayson made me a complete woman.

Jim Davidson says, if I gave him the
wall, would he make one for me too?

All of human life is there, you see,
sir. And look at that.

Success. Diet food boss wins Nobel Peace
Prize.

It's like a little play on words, you
see, sir. Like, you know, the Nobel

Prize. You see, it's just a little...

Good luck with your pepper, and good
luck.

That's 20p, that, you know.

Oh, what seems to be the matter, old
son?

Everything. I tell you, six weeks ago, I
married a 20 -year -old beauty queen.

Gorgeous. She worships me.

She's loving, passionate.

Patient.

Multi -millionaires in their own right,
she is.

We got a Rolls Royce, we got a swimming
pool, we got a sauna.

We drink champagne for breakfast every
day.

We sleep together in beautiful silken
sheets.

A life most people only dream about.

What are you crying for then?

I've forgotten where I live.

Ladies and gentlemen, they say, The
answer to the most asked question in the

world is the ostrich.

You see, it can bury its head in the
ground for days on end.

And they say the answer to the second
most asked question is through

the whole of the afternoon.

And they say the answer to the third
most asked question is Hawaii Five -O.

With the second goal being a penalty.

The answer to the question which I'm
most often asked is, yes, they are here

looking lovelier than ever in their
version of sport. It's Hills Angels!

Laughter.

Ginger Tompkins, 14 frames down to Jimmy
Tarbuck.

He's already lost to Davis White and
Taylor.

That's Betty Davis, Betty White and
Elizabeth Taylor.

But this young pretender, formerly Peter
Tompkins, till he went prematurely

ginger, was the wild man of Snooker's
Steve Davis.

and still keeping that attacking,
aggressive style of his.

I wonder what John John Keith has in
answer to that.

Sorry, sorry, I'm late.

I couldn't help it. I couldn't get a
taxi anywhere. The traffic out there is

terrible, honestly.

But I'm ready for it. I'm starving.

The meal's finished.

The meal's finished?

But I've had no lunch.

Honestly, I've had one slice of toast
and a cup of black coffee. That's all

had all day.

Oh, God.

I'm famished.

There you are, sir.

I kept him for you. Oh, that is good of
you. Thank you very much. Oh, Miss,

could I...

Knife and fork. Thank you. My lord,
ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to

announce the tombola raised £3 ,400.

Well done.

My

lord,

ladies and gentlemen, praise silence for
your president, Sir Roland Butterman.

Well done.

My lord, ladies and gentlemen, this
guild of ours...

Not during the speech, man.

...has been in existence for 56 years.

Now... ...its membership has

increased.

Mr. Benny Hill.

Oh,

you're not going to hurt him.

No, I'm going to take him to the vet.

And you?

Next Thursday.

Oh, and you?

Next Thursday.

Oh, and you?

Oh, I see you're not expecting a happy
event next Thursday.

Oh, no. I didn't go on the church
outing.

film crew being in that pub when the
fight started?

Don't talk wet.

He started it.

Are you supposed to do that?

Where did we get him from?

How do you start a fight then?

I see a bloke sitting next to his wife.
I go over and I say, your wife is the

ugliest cow in the entire world.

He takes a swing at me. I duck.

Barman comes over to help me. I call him
a fascist pig. All the local yobbos

join in. I nip out the bat and he gets
the place being smashed up on film.

the first time they did it.

Why not?

Well, I go up to this bloke and I say,
your wife is the ugliest cow in the

entire world.

He turns to her and says, there, I told
you, didn't I?

Which dog that is? No. Are you sure?
Yeah.

I don't want them plonkers at the IBA
investigating me, do I? Or that Rhys

What a punk.

Don't point that at me.

It's not on. I don't care. Don't point
it at me. It's been nerve -wracking.

Who are you exposing today, then?
Ratched Ben Ali Yashaman.

That's a good old English name, isn't
it?

What's he done, then?

What hasn't he done, mate? He's been
employing illegal immigrants, underage

kids, overworked, underpaid, sweaty
labourer in that stinking carpet factory

his. Lives in style, though, don't he?

Yeah. Off the backs of the poor.

I hate rich people.

I mean, half the world starving to
death.

And he lives like that. I mean, I ask
you.

You see, I believe in a fairer
distribution of wealth. I always have

I'm a socialist, you see. And I think,
you know, we should all do everything we

can to help. Because that is the creed.

Stop.

Stop. Stop.

Stop. Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Mr. Yuckymans, my name is Ronald Crook,
and I'm from Ventral Television, and I

would very much like...

Mr. Jackie!

Mr. Yuckymans, what do you say to the
accusation that you have been employing

illegal immigrants and underage children
at your carpet factory?

Excuse me. Excuse me. You have no right
to burst into our privacy like this.

Who rattled her cake?

Oh, it's true, darling. I want the organ
grinder, not the monkey.

I'll let you know when I want you. All
right.

Keep going.

Mr. Yuckymans, what have you got to
hide? Why won't you talk to us?

Why won't he talk to us?

Because he doesn't speak English.

Oh, well, you're his wife. Yes. Will you
translate for us, then? Yes. Yes.

Mrs.

Yackyman. No, I am not Mrs. Yackyman.

But you're married to Mr. Yackyman here.

No, I am married to Mr.

Athuldurani here.

This is number six.

The yucky man's is at number nine.

He's not the garden king. No.

He runs the Durrani Thin School.

Thin School? That's hasty retreat, I
think.