Original subtitles

Hi there, and welcome to our show.

I hope you've had dinner already, because tonight's Muppet television is

about food, and it might make you hungry.

You're always hungry.

Anyhow, in the second half of our show, John Hurt, as a storyteller, tells the

tale of the three ravens.

But we start our show with Kermit and the Gang and Muppet Television.

Hope you enjoy it.

I woke up this morning. Did you wake up this morning?

Feeling so bad.

Feeling so bad. Will you stop that? Will you stop that? You're driving me mad.

You're driving me mad. Now, stop the singing and get out of my control.

Don't you people know you're driving me crazy?

Oh, I think we put those changes together, yeah.

You, you, you're driving me crazy.

What can I do?

Something, something, something.

You.

Oh, Kermit, we'd love to keep playing requests, but it's time for the opening

number. You're right. What do I know? Carry on. Ladies and gentlemen, the food

chain song.

My sugar.

You could be my spice.

You could be the reason why I dine in paradise.

Once I tried your lovin', I had to try it twice. I lost my fancy manners.

then to waste away forever without a taste of you.

nice number. Oh, thank you. Hey,

what's up next?

Well, actually nothing that involves you guys.

So, you know, there really isn't a lot of room in here.

Hey, that's thinner room, man. You're just not using the space.

Yeah, if you took out all these monitors.

Bad news from the world of ratings.

Ever since the song ended, we've been losing our market share.

Well, you're the demographic expert. What do you suggest?

Well, is there a program that would have more appeal to the average consumer?

Oh, Kermit, we've got a whole supermarket on Monitor 91.

Oh, well, thanks, Vicki. Digit, why don't you punch that up? Oh, now listen,

guys. Don't you have somewhere else you'd like to go?

Excuse me, young man.

Yes, madam. Can I be of some assistance? Yes, please. Can you tell me where...

Yes.

Yes, I can tell you where this eggplant comes from. And do you know why I can

tell you where this eggplant comes from? No, I... Because I'm Sheldon! No!

Sheldon! The all -knowledgeable grocery store stock boy!

Sheldon, it's just an eggplant.

Just? Just an eggplant?

of this odd -shaped purple enigma. I thought you said it was an eggplant.

Eggplant? It is a miracle. A miracle, I tell you.

Oh! Oh!

Hmm, I didn't know grocery boys could fly.

Eggplants come from modern rural farms like this one. Yes, I know. The farmers

grow the eggplants in the earth's rich soil. Yes, I know. But the most

part of the process is planting the chickens.

Yes, I know. What?

That's easy.

play cards? Ha! Does cheese grow on trees?

Hey, what? Did you block any TV?

Oh! What's on?

Uh, next up, we've got this really cute children's program.

What else is on?

Well, what about that new food program starring that Link Hogthrob? Ooh!

Link Hogthrob!

Never miss it!

Uh, well, wait a second. Don't wait.

Hello, and welcome to Luncheon with Link. I'm your host, Link Hogthrob,

on the restaurant beat with a nose for news and a mouth for munching.

But enough clever banter. Today we're lunching at Cafe Terrio, famous for its

nouvelle cuisine. Excuse me, Mr. Hobbs. Rob, your table is ready.

Aren't you a rat?

Oh, I wouldn't like to say, sir.

But you are a rat.

Oh, but I hate to brag, sir.

There's a rat in the restaurant!

Now, what can I get for you?

Follow me this way, please.

We'll get to the bottom of this.

Two sweet and sticky specials. Tree number eight, hold the goo.

Oh, no.

The television visitors, welcome to my kitchen.

You're a cockroach. No, no, no, no. Here we say I am the cockroach.

A little culinary winter season, no?

A cockroach is running the kitchen.

Ah, well, the miracles are made, no? Take a look.

The best bouillabaisse in the world starts with the best ingredients.

And over there, the lightest crepes in the world are finished with a flourish

cream.

All served by the most discerning staff of the very best silverware in the

world.

But this is terrible.

A restaurant staffed by rats and cockroaches? Exactement.

Catering to persons like yourself.

Like me?

Well, you are the pig.

I beg your pardon?

Lift the lid and taste your armor.

It smells like swill. Yes, swill fit for a swine.

Yummy.

And so we end our visit to Cafeteria, one of the new pebbles to the Bell

cuisine. Thank you for joining us on Luncheon with Ling.

Oh, that's a great show.

And this is a great hand.

Rate them in wheat, boys.

Come to mama.

Hey, Frog, you got anything else to eat? Are you kidding? You guys have eaten

every crumb of food in the place. No problem. We'll order in.

Listen, I have a good idea I think you're going to like a lot. What's that?

Why don't you go out to eat?

No, can't do that.

Why not?

Well, we're waiting for the laundry to finish. It's on the delicate cycle.

Hello? Harry's Deli? Hey, listen, Kermit the Frog here.

What? How are things here?

Okay, five -card draw. Everything wild.

Wild? Wild.

Don't ask.

Hey, but listen. Could you send me up my usual sandwich and a glass of milk?

I need a pencil.

hot dishes like...

are these?

You know how I hate people.

They're new. They're called Screaming No -Nos. Oh, why do they always give these

products such dumb names?

How come they're called Screaming No -Nos? Oh, okay.

So, tell me, what happened at the therapist?

Well, honey, I told him all about us. You're a full -time, high -powered

attorney, and so am I.

We just don't have the time to share our feelings honestly and all that

sensitive stuff.

But you're a very sensitive person.

I know that.

And what did he say?

Well, he said if I keep putting my anger in mason jars and sticking them on the

shelf, well, then sooner or later the canning factory explodes.

You mean... Yes.

My uncontrollable rage is...

Oh, good. Dip.

That's disgusting. Yeah.

Anybody hungry?

So, what's the answer?

Well, I have to learn to express my anger.

Honey, if expressing your anger is going to help our marriage, then I'm all for

it, dear. Oh, you'll only cry.

No, I won't, really. Go ahead.

Well...

What always annoys me is the way you... See? See? You're crying. Can't we get

anything right? Here I am trying to express my anger, and you're just

deeper and deeper into self -pity. Boy, your selfishness is just incredible!

Is that any better?

Do you feel lighter?

A few less mason jars on the shelf?

Did it help?

Yes.

fact, I feel great.

You're magnificent when you're slightly irritable. I love you, Fern.

Yes, I do.

I think I just

ate something that disagreed with me.

It wasn't a pastrami in a vanilla milkshake. It was a pastrami and a

milkshake. Okay, and that's two Rubens, three with pickles.

You know, I think you're really going to need that pencil.

Oh, Kermit. Oh, yeah, and some of that fuzzy purple food that has no name.

Mustard or motor oil? Regular, of course.

Regular, of course.

Okay, that's it.

Hey, Kermit. Oh, yeah? I guess this isn't a good time to discuss something

very important and probably quite irritating.

Well, I don't know. Well...

I've been going over the ratings, and I find we're not addressing the Danish

cowboy crowd at all.

We're not? I know. I was surprised myself.

Well, what do you suggest?

Well, I've been working on a little something I call Sheriff Hamlet.

Yeah? To be or not to be, that's the question, and I got the answer right

You're right. This is not a good time.

Attention, viewers of this infantile program.

We have... Digit, it's happening again. Would you like to check the transmitter?

Yes, we here at Gorilla Television have taken charge of the broadcast now.

You've seen that so -called humor about food.

This is no laughing matter.

You people eat anything, no matter how disgusting.

Yeah, just so long as you see it on TV.

To prove this point, we have something here called Mrs. Vivian Eggloff.

An average television consumer.

Hi, Bill.

Comfy?

Watch how she will desire any food she sees on this television set.

Help me! Somebody please help me! They're out of their minds!

Cooperate, Mrs. Egloff. We're using you to demonstrate how the average person is

a slave to media.

Get away from me, you weirdo! Do you know who my husband is?

Words, mere words. Turn on the television, Ubu.

Let me go!

Do the mix and presto, it pops up into a fasto cake.

No baking, no mixing, no icing. Just fasto. Watch.

You know, that would be awfully handy.

It's full of chemicals, Vivian.

I mean, if company drops by suddenly.

An average consumer like you eats nine pounds of chemicals per year.

Or if you have to go to a bake sale in a hurry and you have to bring a little

something. This is just the thing.

Hopeless. What about midnight snacks?

A fresh baked... at one in the morning?

You know, that's not a bad idea.

Ubu, have you gone mad?

Well, just think about it, Zandra. You refused to cook because of some book you

read once. It's not that I'd ever want you to cook.

I could make my own fast -o cake.

Did it get me?

This is more dangerous than I thought.

Ubu, shut that thing off.

Oh, wait a minute. I want to find out where I can get fast -o cake mix.

Yeah.

Fight it, Ubu.

That's fast -o cake mix. Now available.

Out of the horse trot. And boy, is she mad.

Kermit, the cooking program's ready on monitor 37.

All good.

You know, Waldo, you may have a point about this Scandinavian audience thing.

That we're going with the Danish cowboys?

No, we're going with the Swedish chef.

Oh, great.

We don't feed their souls. We pump their stomachs. Cue the chef.

More, more, more.

I'm hungry. Roachy. Bonjour.

I am the famous chef Jacques Roach. And today, I show you how to make something

very special.

Okay. First, we take the frying pan.

And the next thing we do is we take the... Spray it, buggy.

Spray, spray, spray.

Every little breeze seems to whisper disease.

Ah,

yes. Now we make one of my favorite dishes.

Dishes?

Now we play for you un petit chanson, yes?

Yes.

The cookie roachy souffle.

So then, share a pamlet and hop along the air taste, duel to the death with

poison cattle prods. What do you say? Is it in the show?

Well, look, Waldo, you know, you really do a good job tracking the ratings and

keeping up our demographics.

Well, I guess the answer's no, eh?

Well, I'm afraid so.

But look on the bright side. The food is here.

Look, Kermit, you never let me do anything in the show.

Oh, that's all right, little fella. You can come along with us and do the

closing number.

Are you sure that's all right?

Yeah, great.

Let's jam.

But wait a second. What am I supposed to do with all this food?

Not now, Kermit. We're trying to put on a television show here.

Will that be cash or charge?

When I taste a tang of peaches, I always think of cream. If I meet up with a

chicken, I hear the word supreme.

Every cider has a Z and every pH has a D. But who belongs to me?

When Laurel's in the doorway, his heart is far behind.

When there's a rockin' in your body, there'll be rollin' on your mind.

Every team must have a he, and every cop deserves a plea. But who belongs to me?

Me.

What can it be that goes with me like A and B and fits me to a D?

Eggs and me or ham and pea, none of them will do.

Me, yeah.

They're roving bands of knights who only want to find their days.

They're the steady stream of wealth.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Me and you.

Me and you.

Me and

you.

through many countries and over many years.

It's been called everything from the Six Swans to the Twelve Brothers.

Our version is called the Three Ravens.

One day in November, the Queen died.

Outside the palace, the leaves fell lamenting, reds and golds falling.

Inside, weeping, the king, his three sons, his daughter.

And the people filed slowly by to shed their own tears for the dear queen.

But there was one among the mourners whose eyes were dry.

There was one among the mourners whose heart was ice, whose soul was cold,

smile was fly, whose brain raced ahead to the day when the king would want to

ease his loneliness.

And the witch, for which she was, fixed her dry eyes on the king and

schemed.

Mine, she schemed.

Mine, oh, mine.

And you may well weep.

Her scheme was simple and terrible.

She groaned for power, for majesty over all things, for the cold ring of gold

around her head.

She wanted this until the want ate away her heart and soul.

So she set to work on the king.

The king wouldn't marry a witch.

No, the king didn't even see the witch.

He didn't feel the sun on his face or the rain, just this tug of the past. All

day, all night, memories tugging on his sleeve.

His poor heart, you see, was broken.

But the witch could charm the skin from a snake.

And she turned all her power on the king.

She wound him in inch by inch, the past tugging him one way, she patiently

pulling him the other.

Because, he thought, when he looked at her, he saw his wife's face.

And indeed he did.

You're back, he keeps saying.

She says, our little secret.

There. Witchery. Oh, yeah.

It was a spell, and it worked.

I've got something wonderful to tell you.

I've met someone very special.

Children, we're going to be married.

We're going to be happy again.

I hope you'll think of me as your friend.

And then, in time, perhaps, as your mother.

Our mother's dead.

I think we mean as a new mother, don't we?

Yes.

In time.

Well.

Try for me.

Will you?

Oh, yes. All hugs, all family.

But witch watched and cursed them.

They were her rivals and her enemies, these four grieving and bewildered

children. And a canker grew in her mind because she would not share.

She wanted it all.

And she sowed a seed of fear in the children's lives.

Stairs gave way, horses bucked while balconies crumbled. Even the toy box was

terrible. Of course, the witch herself was all honey.

Always honey.

But sometimes the king caught a look and worried she was also the bee.

That's right, and bees sting.

I hate that witch.

Poor man, then. Torn in half, enchanted by his new queen, frightened for his

children. What could he do?

I said I'd take you on a special holiday.

We're almost there.

A forest?

A magic forest.

Full of the treasure.

Follow the train. Follow the train.

Hurry up. It's perfect.

There's a stream.

And a house.

And sure enough, there it was, pink and perfect.

And the boys laughed and laughed as if a great weight had dipped it off them.

And their sister sat by the stream and dipped her toes.

And missed her mother, which he always did when she was happy.

This is your secret place.

No one can find you here without the thread.

I'll visit you each day.

You've brought us here because of her, haven't you?

Our stepmother. No, of course not.

But his daughter was right, quite right.

For even as she spoke, the witch, her stepmother, sat in her tower and studied

horrible spells.

For the children were obstacles between her and power, growing, daily growing

like clouds over her.

And now she would discover where they were, clouds, and puff,

then clean away.

Where have you been?

I took the children on a trip. A holiday.

Oh, yes.

Anyone nice? Yes.

Very nice.

What's that you're sewing?

Shirts.

I'm sewing them all little shirts. Aren't they sweet?

That's nice.

Is there love, those?

You're being very mysterious.

Am I?

What about?

The children.

Our children.

You want me to be their mother, but what mother can tolerate not knowing where

her children have gone to?

I just want them to have a secret holiday.

Makes it special.

Secret?

Yes, of course.

But what if something should happen to them?

Then where would we be?

What happened to you?

Still let that be an end to it.

If you don't want to talk about it, that's your right.

They're your children.

I'm just a stepmother.

But the witch had no intention of letting that be an end to it.

The next day, the king rode off and she followed stealthy as a bat and watched

him roll out the magic thread.

And with sly slight of hand, she stole it for herself.

And soon she watched it wind its secret way towards the children.

Shirts she carried.

And a chill curse she knew by heart.

Have you caught these fish yourself?

How clever.

How did you find us here?

With our father.

Just coming.

Look, I've got you presents.

Are they nice?

I sewed each one by hand.

Thank you.

Put them on.

Then your father can see them.

But how can their father see them when this thread won't work?

When this ball won't roll.

Where's your sister?

I miss her.

She should be here.

Come along, Ben.

Your shirt.

And all the while, the king stumbles locked in the forest and cries out,

Children!

The shirt will hurt, the wings will sting, the beak will shriek, the eyes

cry.

And the princess runs, runs for help, runs for her life.

My daughter.

Daughter?

Boys!

Boys! Husband?

Husband.

What have you done?

Me? I've done nothing. What are you doing here? This is my secret place.

are my children?

Oh, are the children here?

I can't look at you.

Please do.

Please look at me.

I heard my daughter cry out to me.

I think you must be unwell.

Are you thinking for something? Let me see. Let me soothe you.

No, no, get away from me!

Boys!

Boris.

Yes, you're upset.

I'll have to think about this.

About what we can do with you.

And for a day and a night, the princess ran, stumbled, fled until she dropped.

Dropped into a dead sleep.

And when she woke, she saw three ravens before her.

Or perhaps she dreamt it. Because they spoke to her.

Sister, they seem to say. We are trapped.

Help us.

How? How can I help you? You must keep silent. You must not speak to a single

soul for three years, three months, three weeks, and three days.

Only then can the spell be broken. Then I shall not speak.

By putting her finger to her lips as a sign, the princess promised not to speak

to a single soul for three years, three months, three weeks, and three days.

The princess, she couldn't speak to anyone?

No. Hello?

Goodbye? I'm hungry?

No. What about a note? She could write a note.

Nothing. If she spoke to another soul, her brothers would remain ravens

Such was the power of their stepmother's spell.

And so the princess made her home high in the hollow of an old dead tree and

silent while weeks and weeks went by.

Until one day, a young prince, far from home, stumbles across a stream.

And in that stream...

He sees a handkerchief flown by.

Hello, is this yours?

Come back.

Have you been cursed? Is that it?

Can you not speak?

Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you. Look, I'll sit quietly down here beside

you.

See? And saying that, he sat beside her and took out his food and offered it to

her. And she was famished and had some. And soon he set off talking of his past,

his present, and his plans.

And all the while he's thinking, what I.

All the while he's thinking to kiss that mouse.

And the prince came back every day for a week. And the princess found she could

smile again. A darling smile.

A smile that wrapped all the way round her heart and his heart and squeezed

tight together.

And the prince gave up speaking too.

And they were content to simply sit and hug on that smile.

Until one day he could not contain his thoughts and said them all.

Love, he said, and marriage, and always and ever.

And they'd kiss.

And that was that.

So she spoke.

Not a whisper.

The prince set her up on his horse and they rode the long ride to his kingdom.

And on the way, he spoke of his father, the king, and of his beloved mother who

had died.

And the princess wanted to say, I know. She wanted to say, mine too. But she

couldn't. So she didn't.

And at length they were there at the gates of the palace, and as proud as you

please.

Father, madam, I want you to meet my sweetheart.

His father looked down, and so did his stepmother.

The witch, the witch.

But she was married to the other king. The other king was dead, poisoned.

Oh, no.

The witch had a taste for kings now, for countries. For the princess was a thorn

pricking at her ambitions. The princess could not speak, but she accused with

her looks.

Killer of my father, the witcher of my brothers.

And the witch knew she must have done with her. And so the battle began, the

good princess and the wicked witch.

But the prince knew nothing of this and married his sweetheart.

And it was true.

The moon was honey for them.

It kicked.

It's moving. It's kicking me.

And not a minute, it seemed, before there he was, a son, a boy.

And the young mother would have given anything, everything, to say his name,

sing to him, whisper.

But she couldn't.

So she didn't.

He has his mother's eyes.

Let's hope he has your voice, my dear.

Look after him, won't you?

Hug him all up, little man.

She does.

Of course she does.

What? What is it?

Where's the baby, darling? The princess didn't know and couldn't speak and their

baby was nowhere to be found and the pain of it intolerable until one

night she went to the garden and dug with her hands in the ground a small

and bending to the earth screamed with all her heart screamed and screamed

her pain into the hole until morning.

And it was better.

And looking up to the sky, she saw her brothers, the ravens, circling above

The days passed, they seemed to say.

Hold to your promise.

Hold to your promise.

Your father and I are so sad for you both.

Thank you.

So sad.

It couldn't be. You don't think the princess didn't, well...

Want the little baby, perhaps? She loved him.

Of course she did.

Stupid.

Forget I said anything.

Please?

Dearest, where have you been? I looked everywhere.

What have you got on your hands?

What's this?

Is it earth?

Perhaps she's been digging a little hole.

What have you been digging?

It must pain you so much, you dumb.

I hate that witch.

I bet she did something to the baby.

No one knew.

Or no one said.

And when the news came the princess was to have a second baby, the joy was

muted.

Quiet.

And two years and two months after the princess took her vow of silence,

boy was born to her.

And she would not let this... precious sun from her sight, not for an instant,

until exhaustion overcame her and her eyes stopped fighting

and closed.

And when she woke...

Whispers were whispered in the corridors of the castle.

Two babies disappeared. What kind of mother these whispers are? Who loses

who will not speak?

Curse, they said, these gossips.

Bewitched.

You know, before, when my first son... You know, you asked, and I said... I

said, impossible.

But now... Now I don't know, and I'm frightened.

Oh, I know.

I understand.

And she is with child again. I could not bear... Shh!

Don't worry.

When the time comes, we must watch her closely.

We must love her very much, but we must watch closely.

Now, who do I remind you of?

My mother.

I know.

And so, three months later, when the baby came... Darling, our son, our

beautiful little son.

What I should like to do is perhaps to take him with me for a day or two

somewhere safe.

Somewhere where no one will find him or harm him.

I told you she wouldn't.

It's late.

Stay by her until the morning, and then we'll see. Stay beside her until the

morning.

He's a lovely.

A lovely.

And so they sat, silent, their hearts full to bursting, watching their tiny

child, its fingers like stars.

And the mother prayed, and the father prayed. But the strain, the tiredness of

the birth washed over them. Huge waves washing over them, lulling them to

And for a minute, two minutes, three, they slept.

And then the prince woke.

Oh, no.

Have you done?

What's happened?

What's the matter?

It's horrible. I can't believe it. She's a witch.

My poor babies.

My poor sons.

Yes, she must be burned as a witch.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she must be burned.

And so it was decreed that three years, three months, three weeks and three days

after she had taken her vow of silence, the poor innocent princess would be

burnt at the stake as a witch.

Why didn't she speak? She can speak now, can't she? No, not yet.

Not until the midday.

As they prepared the bonfire, the sundial in the courtyard was still far

the midday.

And they came for her and tied her to the stake.

And as the sundial neared the line of twelve, it was the witch herself who lit

the torch and took it towards the bundles of hay and twigs.

And then, and then, three ravens flew at the ridge, wheeling and diving and

crashing. And she dropped the torch, and in a second was nothing but dust and

ashes.

My brothers.

My brothers.

My brothers!

And her three brothers freed from their spell, pulled their sister from the

stake, and hugged her and kissed her, and now she could not...

Speak for crying.

And there was more.

For now all was restored to her, and good held sway.

And the girl who kept faith and had but one faith for everyone was rewarded with

sons and brothers and a sweetheart and a crown.

And she practiced her smile until it was...

Perfect.

Well, I thought the babies had been killed.

No, the witch had cast them down a well.

But the ravens knew and caught them up safe and cared for them. And so they

lived happily ever after. Yes, but it wasn't three years, three months, three

weeks and three whole days.

No, clever clog.

The princess spoke three minutes too soon.

And because of that, her youngest brother kept one wing forever.

But he didn't mind, and nor do I, and nor, my dear, should you.

The Tale of the Three Ravens.

That Anthony was eating earlier in the show? Well, this is a screaming no -no.

No, no.

Did you enjoy being eaten by Anthony?

Oh, yes, yes.

Well, that's all the show there is for tonight. Next week, however, there will

be more fun, more music, and more stories.

Join us then.