Original subtitles

- Good evening.

I am attempting to assist my brother, Alfred,

in introducing this evening's chilling shocker.

It is called See the Monkey Dance.

There seems to be no end to the humiliations

which I suffer in the name of art and profit.

See the Monkey Dance, indeed.

One of the disadvantages of show business

is that although it is sometimes possible

to put the actors on strings,

the audience is considerably more difficult to manage.

We are experimenting with a limited type of control,

using a single string and tying them to their seats.

Tonight's play is indeed entitled See the Monkey Dance.

It is a story of a man who finds himself

involved in a mad charade

which he neither understands nor can escape.

It begins in a few moments.

- [Conductor] Langendolen.

- I say, how long are we stopping here?

- [Conductor] Three or four minutes, that's all, sir.

- Thank you.

(phone dinging)

- [Operator] Linwood exchange.

- Hello, miss?

- [Operator] Number please.

- I'd like Glynmon 239, please.

- [Operator] 239?

- Yes, and hurry, thank you.

(phone ringing)

- Hello?

- Hello?

Is that you?

- [Wife] Yes, baby.

- Aw.

Are you alone?

- Yes, baby.

I'm all alone.

You can say what you want to.

The other won't be back until Monday.

Two, count 'em, two whole lovely days.

- Easy, now, dear.

Not on the phone.

Switchboards are just another way of advertising.

I will be at the usual place in about half an hour?

- Darling sits here all by herself in this great, big house

with no one to even hold her tiny hand.

- Dear, not on the phone!

You'll save it till later on?

There's a girl.

- In an hour, baby.

- One hour, my love.

One hour.

(laughs)

(whistle tweeting)

- Oh, yes.

Yes, indeed.

Two whole days.

Count them, two.

Good evening.

- How typical.

So you're going to read, are you?

- I beg your pardon?

- I beg your pardon.

I said, as you well know, so you're going to read, are you?

- I was thinking of it, yes.

- Typical, typical.

Here it comes.

- If you don't mind.

- If you don't mind.

Right on cue.

No, I don't mind.

It's probably all for the best.

Typical.

- What is so typical, if I may ask?

- Ask away.

- Well?

- Well what?

You were going to ask me something.

You said if I may ask.

You are typical.

That's what is typical.

- Now, just exactly how do you know that I am typical?

- Because everything you do

is just what one would expect you to do.

- All right, then, I am typical.

Now, that is just one more little thing in life

that we shall have to put up with, isn't it?

Now-- - Here it comes.

- If you don't mind.

- If you don't mind.

It used to be frightfully upper class, "if you don't mind."

Aristocratic approbation, ever so genteel.

If you don't mind.

But actually now, old boy, it's become rather vulgar,

and I'd rather you didn't use it.

If you don't mind.

- Now look here, will you please tell me

if you have decided to annoy me

until we reach the next station?

Because if so, I shan't try to read at all.

- I'm not trying to annoy you.

- Well, then, let me put it this way.

You have succeeded without trying.

- Well, I certainly didn't think I was annoying you.

- Well, you were.

- But I'm not now, am I?

- Would you like something to read or are you too drunk?

- I'm not drunk.

- Then you should see a psychologist.

- And I have something to read, thank you.

- All right, then, why don't you read it, then?

- Very well.

You don't have to take that attitude.

Of course, it's typical of your kind

to be rude to strangers.

(cries)

- Are you all right?

- Yes.

- [George] Are you sure?

- Yes.

I'm sorry I annoyed you.

I'm really not like that.

Please forgive me.

- Oh no, that's quite all right.

- I work too hard, you see.

- Oh, that's a common fault these days.

- It's when the pressure comes off

I have a tendency to go boyishly hysterical.

- I see.

- I've been to the psychologist,

and they say it's a perfectly normal reaction

to my sort of work.

- I see.

- [Stranger] I'm dreadfully sorry.

- That's quite all right.

- I'm a physicist.

- Oh, how interesting.

- I'm afraid that's all the Ministry

will allow me to say about it.

- I'm in the brokerage business myself.

The City.

- Oh.

- Nothing but high pressure.

I tell you, I don't think I could stick it

myself these days if I didn't have a little place

in the country I could go to near Llandrin.

- Near Llandrin?

- Yes.

- That's a coincidence.

I have a place myself near Llandrin.

- Really? - Yes.

Isn't it a charming little town?

- Well, now, I said that I had a place near Llandrin.

Actually that does make it sound rather grand, doesn't it?

Really, you see, well, I have a caravan.

I have it parked on the edge of a field

on a hill over the town.

- A caravan.

- Yes.

- You have a caravan?

- Yes.

(laughs)

- Isn't that a laugh!

(laughs)

- I don't use it very often.

(laughs)

I don't see what there is that's so funny

about having a caravan, however.

- No, no, no, the fact is,

I have a caravan too.

- Oh.

You do?

- Yes.

- Really?

- Yes.

But I think we were both referring

to them ever so vaguely as

country houses, weren't we?

(laughs)

- Well, one does always put on a little side, eh?

- Look here.

My caravan's on the edge of a farm over the town,

just like yours.

- Oh, really?

- Yes.

Strange we haven't met before.

- I thought I knew the area very well.

I used to spend all my weekends

walking all through the country.

I mean, I still do.

Unless I'm tied up.

- Who owns the farm you are on?

- Williams.

Williams' dairy farm.

- Oh?

I'm on Williams' property too.

- Williams', the dairy?

- Yes, Williams', the dairy.

Curious, isn't it, that we hadn't seen one another.

- Tell me, where are you parked, exactly?

- Well, it's rather difficult to describe.

- Look.

I go out of the station.

I walk straight through the town, past the pub.

There I cut through the alleyway out of the town,

and I take the footpath past the brook, up the hill.

- Yes, yes, I know exactly where you mean.

I go that way myself.

- Then I go down the road for about 150 feet.

There's a gate.

I am parked right inside that gate

in the corner of the field.

- Tell me, when did our sly friend Williams

rent this caravan to you?

- Oh, he didn't rent it to me.

Oh, no, no, I lease the land from him.

The caravan is mine.

I moved it there myself.

I've had it there for years.

- Most curious.

- We simply can't be talking about the same place.

No, we can't, because when Williams leased that land to me,

he promised me that he would not allow

anyone else to park there.

- He told me the same thing.

And as far as I could see three weeks ago,

he hadn't broken his word.

- I believe it's in my lease.

I mean, he got...

What did you say?

- There was only one caravan on Williams' farm,

and that was mine.

A green one.

Parked in the position you've just described.

- You're having another one of your spells, aren't you?

- I believe we're going to be late this evening.

In the hundreds of times I've taken this train,

I don't think it's been on time once.

Is that your experience too?

- Yes.

No.

The train is never on time.

Oh, look, don't you think we should talk about this?

I mean, I don't see any necessity for rudeness.

There's just been a little mistake.

Now, look, we can't possibly both of us

own the same caravan, now, can we?

Actually, I think it's very interesting.

Oh, here, allow me.

You know, I think it's one of those things,

once we have it straightened out,

it's going to make a very, very funny story.

I'm sure the whole thing is explainable.

- By my madness, you mean.

- Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, I didn't say that.

- But you think I'm mad, don't you?

- No!

- So.

You pretended to own my caravan

just to torment me, didn't you?

- No. - Just to see

the monkey dance!

- There's just been a little mistake.

- I have made no mistake.

I am going to my green caravan,

the position of which you described very accurately,

and I'm going to spend the weekend there,

resting and taking walks in the surrounding country.

I hope I shan't be bothered by anyone.

'Cause these weekends away from my work are very important.

Not only to me but in some small way, I believe,

to the defense of this nation.

- Well,

I'm not going to argue about the obvious.

It's my caravan, and there is no argument.

How many beds are there in your caravan?

My caravan has one large bed.

It's a permanent bed.

The sink is stainless steel, the tap is nickel plated,

and it has an H on it instead of a C,

even though it is cold water.

That's because the day I went into the shop to get it,

it was the only one they had.

There are yellow curtains on the window.

I'm afraid they're not very well made,

because I put them up myself.

- Liar, I put those curtains up!

So you have been in my caravan, you rotten sneak!

But you know about the tap.

How did you know about the tap?

It was the last one in the shop that day.

You couldn't have known!

How did you know that?

- You're

repeating my own words back to me.

You're crazy.

You can't fool me.

You're some kind of nut, that's what you are.

- You believe that if it comforts you.

- It's my caravan.

We are talking about my caravan.

- [Stranger] We'll see who sleeps there tonight.

- Say what you like. - Now,

if you don't mind.

- Now, if you don't mind.

If that isn't typical.

- I beg your pardon?

- I said if that isn't typical,

typical of a grade-A nut, I don't know what is.

- If you continue to annoy me,

I shall pull the emergency cord.

- Annoy you!

The key!

Ah, now, I have the key.

Now, tell me, would I have the key to your caravan?

- How did you get that key?

- Thought you'd say that.

Typical!

- When you lit my cigarette,

you picked my pocket, didn't you?

Give me that key! - Ah!

Ha ha.

- You swine!

- Ha ha. - Here!

- [George] Ooh!

- Take that!

Ooh! - Oh!

- Oh!

- Now, you forced me to do that.

You did, it was self defense.

There was nothing else I could do.

Now, I'm sorry if I hurt you, but you forced me.

- Give me back my key.

- Oh, look here.

Don't you think you have carried this far enough?

Now, if you give me any more trouble,

I am going to go to the police.

- Yes, I'm sure they'd like to hear how you assaulted me!

- That was self defense, anyway.

- We'll see.

- Oh!

- [Conductor] Llandrin!

- I don't care what you say.

I am going to my caravan.

If there is any trouble, I'm going to the police.

Taxi!

(suspenseful music)

Oh, I beg your pardon.

- Ahem.

(phone dinging)

- [Operator] Operator.

- Miss? - Yes?

- I would like Glynmon 239, please.

And I'm in rather a hurry, thank you.

(phone ringing)

(light music)

(door closing)

Go away and leave me alone!

What are you doing?

He's out of his mind.

You.

Clear off my land.

This is my field and my caravan.

And if you don't clear off, I'm going to call the police.

(window rattling)

What are you digging that hole for?

- I'm digging this hole for you, George.

- For me?

- I may dig another for your girlfriend,

but I haven't made up my mind about that yet.

- What girlfriend?

- She'll be along in a little while.

Your girlfriend.

- But I haven't got a girlfriend.

Are you stark raving mad?

- Two whole lovely days.

Two, count them.

- All right, then, I do have a girlfriend.

What business is that of yours?

Uh-oh.

I suppose that I must not bring my girlfriend

into your caravan, is that it?

- It isn't my caravan.

I was just fooling you.

I didn't know where it was.

I wanted to make sure you'd lead me to it.

- Who are you?

- Take a guess, George.

- Her husband.

What rotten luck.

Now, look here, old man.

I am not going to try and lie to you.

- That's good.

- It was

simply one of those things,

and I'm awfully sorry that it had to happen.

- I'm going to kill you, George.

Shortly after, when she arrives, I may kill her as well,

but I haven't made up my mind about that yet.

(door closing)

- Would you like a drink?

- Later on.

Actually, I'd rather you didn't come any further than that.

- Why?

- Because you can run faster than I can,

and I don't want you to get away as the last one did.

- Now, see here.

- There's a gun in this case.

I'll use it if you step out of that doorway.

- Look, now, surely we can talk about this.

- Not really.

The one thing we have in common,

I mean our woman, George,

is a joy to you and an agony to me.

What can joy possibly say that agony will understand?

- I didn't know you felt that way about your wife.

Really I didn't.

- That's about all one can say.

Of course, if we had time to know one another,

we might become friends.

Not really good friends.

I find you a bit pompous.

Certainly the best of acquaintances.

- Oh, now, see here, I don't think

it's too late at all for us to become friends.

- Now, now, George.

- No, no, no, it's true.

Oh, I do have a pompous streak.

It's my business.

I am so glad that you mentioned it.

Most of my friends,

they would never bring it to my attention,

and one should know these things.

One should have a friend who will tell him these things.

- I do wish you'd try to be brave.

Of course, I can understand your anxiety,

but she'll be along in a minute and it'll all be over.

You've had a good run for your money.

Now it's time to pay.

Was she nice to you, by the way?

- If you love your wife, how can you possibly ask me that?

- Because I love her that I can ask.

I live in the eye of this little hurricane

of misery and anguish, George.

I only ask because she treated

her last boyfriend most abominably,

as if he were some sort of animal.

Dirt under her feet.

I felt sorry for him, myself.

Oh, you didn't know there'd been others.

I'm sorry.

I should have broken it to you more gently.

Yes, come to think of it,

it's harder for a boyfriend to find that out

than a husband, really.

There's so much ego involved in being a lover.

A husband doesn't have to go on proving anything.

Yes, she's quite a girl, our woman.

But I decided it had to stop.

So I set out to kill the last one.

And I certainly would have,

but for an unfortunate occurrence.

- What happened?

- Oh, don't hope it will happen again.

I hadn't practiced using the gun.

I missed, hit him in the leg.

Ironic, because I understand

he's got a limp today, just like mine.

Anyway, he ran off, and I allowed our woman to pacify me.

It was a mistake.

- Oh, oh, no, no, I don't know.

Now, didn't you feel better after?

I mean, after you'd calmed down?

- Yes, but then it all began again.

Nothing in life is ever really cured,

George, by calming down.

One must keep one's fire in the belly going.

Stoke it up.

Push the day's action to a climax.

Why don't you have a few more drinks?

No use going out with the shakes.

How did she treat you, George?

- Very well, I suppose.

Oh, I don't know!

- You don't know?

- No!

- Does it embarrass you to talk about her?

- Yes, I suppose it does in a way, yes.

- Youth seems to be fashionable.

- Youth?

- Yeah.

They're getting younger and younger these days.

You weren't on much of a poetic plane with her, were you?

All tickle and slap, was it?

- I don't know very much about women, really.

- Oh, you aren't a married man?

- No, no!

- That's good.

That makes it much easier for me.

(car engine revving)

- No, wait-- - Step out here.

Come on.

Come on.

Turn around.

I want to hear her say your name.

That's going to be the signal.

When she says "George."

- You are being rash.

If we could only talk.

- Oh, lower your hands, you look ridiculous.

It'll be the last sight of your lives,

so you might as well make her think you're a brave boy.

- Please, please, you can't.

(car engine revving)

- I didn't think it was her.

She's fast, but not that fast.

Here, you dig for a while.

Keep your mind off things.

- Me?

- Yes, hop in there.

Go on.

Well, dig!

(George growls)

- You'll never get away with this, you know.

- Here, you're feeling better already, aren't you?

- They'll hang you.

If there's a God in heaven, they will hang you.

- Yes, I fully expect they will.

Unless I can establish a diminished responsibility.

Pressure of work and all that.

Actually, I'm rather looking forward to it.

You see, George, I've given up.

And like you, I need this woman on a very permanent basis.

I only feel at ease when I'm with her.

When she's beside me in a room, my mind stops working,

and the door closes on the world,

and all is well, and I'm at home.

I suppose she is my home.

Can you understand?

- Well, yes.

I felt that way with my mother.

- Yes, that would explain why you never married.

- Now, surely we can come to some sort of agreement.

What good is it going to do to kill me?

- It isn't a matter of good, actually.

- Killing me is not going to make your wife a better woman.

- I do wish you'd dig more and talk less.

- It isn't going to make her love you more.

- You're making it very difficult for me.

I don't want to start feeling sympathy for you.

- I don't deserve to die for this, and you know it.

Oh, look, it's not the same today.

A hundred years ago, yes.

Then they thought of a woman as a sort of possession.

- Yes.

- Like your horse.

If a man stole your wife or your horse, you shot him.

- Mm.

- But not anymore.

No, we don't do that anymore today.

A man doesn't own a wife today.

More likely the wife owns him.

- Keep digging.

I've made up my mind.

Nothing is going to change my mind this time.

Nothing!

- You'll never forgive yourself.

It's an injustice.

- It is not an injustice.

I have ever moral right.

(car engine revving)

Here, get inside.

Get in there where I can keep an eye on you.

(sighs)

Close the door.

- I would seem to be at the end of my rope.

But I still have a long way to go.

Our second half follows this announcement

from your friendly neighborhood television station.

- That's better.

Extraordinary what a softening effect

the evening air has upon a man's brain.

I was almost beginning to weaken out there.

You don't look nearly as deserving in here, I must say.

All scared and sweaty.

How could she bear you?

Yes, I think I could shoot you in here

without feeling too much grief.

- There is absolutely no necessity for being rude.

You yourself said there was nothing personal.

It's purely an accident of fate

that I happen to be sitting here.

- True.

- If she was as free and easy as you say,

it could easily have been somebody else.

- Do shut up.

- I mean that I am not responsible for the way I look.

I did not design myself.

- Don't worry, you're about to undergo some alterations.

Save a drop for me.

I may want to get drunk later on.

- Oh.

Oh, so you admit it.

You don't want to go through with this at all.

- No, but I'm going to.

- How did you know that I was on that train?

- I know about the whole weekend.

- A detective!

You had her trailed.

I didn't tell you, so she must have.

- On the contrary, you did tell me.

You gave me the whole plan.

You know that habit she has

of tucking things into the top of her dress?

- Yes, used tissues, mostly.

Infuriating habit.

- Well, that's where she tucked your letter when it arrived.

- Letter?

Letter?

What letter? I never wrote her a letter.

- Then she went out to do some gardening, and it fell out.

Surprising, because she's rather

well endowed in that respect.

Anyway, I found the letter the next day,

lying on the compost heap.

"Dear darling baby."

- But I never wrote her a letter.

Do you think I'm a fool?

- Told me earlier you didn't have a girlfriend.

- Yes, but I never wrote her a letter!

(knocking on door)

- She must have left her car in the town.

Open the door.

- Oh, no, no, no, no, now, look, there has been a mistake.

- Open the door.

- No, look, you've got to listen to me.

- I want her to see you. - I never wrote her a letter.

- I want to hear her.

I want her to see you die!

- No, no, look, please, please listen to me.

I'm innocent.

- Open the door! - I'm not guilty.

(knocking on door)

- [Stranger] Open the door.

(gasps)

(knocking on door)

- My father saw your light.

Look you, I brought you your milk, Mr. George.

- [George] Thank you.

(exhales)

- In front of that little girl.

- I, I-- - Terrible thing.

- [George] I never wrote her a letter.

- It would have affected her whole life.

- I never wrote her a letter.

I never wrote her a letter in my whole life.

I am innocent.

- Oh, would you stop mumbling?

You're not innocent.

You admitted you're guilty.

Even if you didn't write that letter,

you're still guilty, aren't you?

- Yes, but I--

- Oh, stop trying to squirm out of it.

Anyway, I don't believe you.

- You've got to believe me!

- There.

There it is.

Do you deny you wrote that letter?

- Oh!

That's not my, I didn't write that,

that's not my handwriting.

It's not!

- "Dear darling,

"I have missed you so dreadfully,

"dreadfully since last our lips touched.

"But baby must not think of that,

"or he will become too excited

"to write his darling a letter.

"All night baby has been awake--"

- Does that sound like me?

- I confess you don't look the type

to write drivel like this.

But then no man does, and there's a lot of it written.

- Wait a minute.

Read that again.

- "Wondering what his darling

"has been doing with her little self all day,

"and if the dreadful ogre--"

- Ogre, ogre, ogre.

Look, that sounds like her.

That's the way she writes.

- Don't be ridiculous.

Why would she write a letter, sign your name to it,

and then go to all the trouble

of mailing it to herself and having me find it?

(grunts) Sit down!

- No!

Now look.

You look at this.

Now look, that's my handwriting, look!

(paper rustling)

- You disguised your writing.

- Oh, did I know that you were going to find it?

- No, no, that's true.

Oh.

- Yes.

- Oh, no.

- She knew you'd try to kill me.

- You poor devil.

How she must hate you.

- Oh, don't feel sorry for me.

No, she doesn't hate me.

She doesn't feel anything for me.

I am merely a diversion for the weekend.

It's you she's after.

- Me?

- You'd hang if you killed me.

- Oh.

- It's clever.

That way, she would be rid of both of us.

- No, no.

- She's bored.

She's always bored.

I don't mean any more to her than a fly on a windowpane.

- She isn't that clever.

She just isn't clever!

- Isn't she?

Isn't she?

- It was the same last time!

That other poor devil

that I shot in the leg.

It was a letter then.

I found a letter that time too!

Why didn't I see it then?

- I know nobody's ever tried to kill me before.

- She planned the whole thing.

Only it was supposed to happen last time.

- I'm not the kind of a fellow that one tries to kill.

- And to think I've been living

with a murderess all this time.

- It changes the whole world,

knowing that somebody wants you dead.

Why, she could have killed me any time she wants.

The thought of her frightens me now.

She does frighten me.

- I wonder if she's poisoned me.

I haven't felt very well lately.

- You know, I don't think that I will ever be able

to trust another woman as long as I live.

- She'll be here any minute.

- Yes.

Yes, just what are we going to do?

What is she going to do when she finds out that we know?

- Yes, what is she going to do?

- Hm.

Well, I'm leaving.

I don't even want to see her.

Yes, and you'd better come along too.

You know, she's capable of anything.

She's a monster.

- No, no, no, I'm not leaving her.

- What?

- I'll never leave her.

She mustn't find out we've worked it out.

Promise me you won't tell her, please!

- But why?

- Because if she knew we'd worked it out,

she'd have to leave me.

Promise you won't tell her.

- Well, all right.

You can't live with her.

She wants you dead.

- [Stranger] I'll never leave her.

- But she's tried to kill you twice already.

- Yes, but I don't mind that, really.

You see, murdering is like hating,

and hating is a form of loving, you know?

No, as long as she's alive, I'll never leave her.

- Oh.

Well.

I'm off.

- I might be able to live quite happily if she were dead.

Then I could forget her, you see.

- Well,

be sure to close the door when you leave.

- [Stranger] George!

- Yes?

- I'm sorry about tonight.

I'm sorry you're involved.

- That's quite all right.

- When she does kill me, of course,

you'll be involved again,

and I'll apologize for that in advance.

(door closing)

- How do you mean I will be involved again?

- Well, you're her boyfriend, you're the man with a motive.

They're bound to suspect you.

And if I know her she'll do her best

to make it look as though you're the guilty one.

- Yes, she will, won't she?

- I'm afraid so.

I'm sorry.

- What are we going to do?

- I don't know.

- This must be straightened out.

I simply must get out of this mess.

I am a respectable man.

- We could kill her.

- I am not a murderer.

- I've often thought about it.

I might have the nerve to do it if you were with me to help.

That way we'd both be free.

- That way we would both be in jail, waiting to be hanged.

- No, no, there's another way.

As I told you, I've given it a good deal of thought.

You know that steep hill leading down into the town?

- Yes.

- It's a very windy and tricky road, isn't it?

- Yes.

- That's our solution, if we're clever.

Right.

(energetic music)

(car engine running)

(car door closing)

- Yoo hoo!

Anybody home?

(knocking on door)

George!

George?

- Hello, my dear.

- You frightened the wits out of me.

What are you doing here?

Where's George?

- George is gone.

- What do you mean, he's gone?

- I roughed him up a bit.

And he decided that discretion

outweighed his passion for you, my dear.

He fled.

(laughs)

- Who are you kidding?

You couldn't rough up a blanket, you coward.

- You used to call me baby.

- Where'd he go?

George?

George!

- It's no use calling him, my dear.

He's gone.

We had a little talk, and he left.

- If you turned him against me, I'll kill you.

- I explained my position,

and he agreed that I had just and prior rights to you.

Since your dear husband doesn't go away so often.

George and I have come

to a complete agreement about your weekends.

- Are you mad?

I wouldn't so much as shake hands with you

if I were wearing rubber gloves.

What did you tell him?

- I told him I loved you, which is true.

- Get away from me.

Where'd he go?

- Please don't go.

Stay just a little while.

- George! - For your own good!

I'm warning you.

- You're warning me?

Any more nonsense from you,

and I'll have my husband put a kink in your other leg.

- You!

You're nothing but a tramp!

A high-class tramp!

Go on, then, go on!

I don't care!

- Thank you for the high class.

I'm going to the station to pick up George.

If you're here when I get back,

I pity you.

- Pity yourself.

(car door closing)

(car engine revving)

(tires screeching)

(car crashing)

- She tried to kill us.

She tried to kill both of us.

Shouldn't I call the police?

Yes, they should be up here shortly.

They will know that I have heard the crash,

and they most certainly will have

heard about it down in the town.

- They'll be along soon enough.

- Yes.

Then what should we do?

- Well, if I were you, I'd run down to the curve

and show a little concern over the corpse.

They'll recognize her car,

and people know she was your girlfriend, don't they?

- Oh, yes.

Yes, I'll go down there right away.

Are you coming?

- I'm not supposed to be here.

- Oh, of course.

- George. - Yes?

- What about this grave here?

It's going to look rather suspicious, isn't it?

To the police, I mean.

- Oh, good heavens, yes, I've forgotten all about that.

But how am I going to be able to fill that in in time?

I won't be able to.

How am I going to be able to explain it?

- You'd better think of something.

That little girl saw it, didn't she?

- Oh, yes!

The Williams girl, I forgot!

- It's certainly going to look very suspicious.

- Oh.

- Well, I'm going home.

- Now, wait a minute, you're in on this too!

- It'd be bad if I were seen about.

Got a light, George?

- Oh, yes.

Now, look, you have to help me.

I simply cannot do everything alone.

- Thanks.

- I mean, unless you do help me,

the police will be able to figure out

everything that happened.

- Yes, well, you'd better get rid of that wingnut.

And the hammer.

The lead will have come off on the wingnut, you know.

Very dangerous bit of evidence, that.

Oh, by the way, you might get

that car grease off your hands.

It's very noticeable.

And don't forget your fingerprints.

- Listen, look, unless you help me,

I am going to tell the police

that it was her husband who helped me.

Now, you are an accessory!

- Yes, well, you do that, George.

You do that.

You tell them her husband gave you a hand.

- Who are you?

You're not her husband.

- Did I say I was?

I don't remember that.

Really, you'd better hurry.

- Wait one moment.

You said you had never been here before.

- Goodbye, George.

That's a good fellow.

- I'm going to tell them what happened!

I'm going to tell them everything that happened!

I'm going to tell them exactly what happened!

(grunts)

(dramatic music)

There was this man.

I met him on the train.

There was this man.

You see, I did meet him on the train.

- George was not the only one to go down to defeat.

The authorities insisted

that the stranger go with him to prison.

They have enough trouble coping with crime as it is

and just didn't want to break up a losing team.

That concludes tonight's episode

in Brother Alfred's own theater of the absurd.

He plans to present some more buffoonery

when he returns next time.

If he returns.

("Funeral March of a Marionette")

(regal fanfare)