All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s06e03

Good evening. It's good to be with you
again, isn't it, Ronnie? Yes, it is. And

in a packed programme tonight, we shall
have excerpts from four new BBC classic

serials, What Katie Did, What Katie Did
Next, Who Did What to Katie, and Son of

Katie.

And we'll have film of the Knaresborough
Dutchman who got married this morning.

This afternoon, he carried his happy
bride over the threshold, but through

of habit, dropped bits of her along the
garden path.

After that, we present the massed
mounted vans of the household cavalry,

followed by the massed buckets of the
rhubarb growers.

But first, the news.

British Rail has introduced a new
passenger service. It offers you

Aberdeen, lunch in Newcastle, dinner in
London, and your luggage in Birmingham.

Mr. Zechariah Mole, the world's
untidiest man, died today.

His body is now lying in a state.

This week is accident prevention week at
Aldershot, and already 300 army wives

have signed an undertaking to have a
guard in front of the fire.

Meanwhile, the search for the man who
terrorized his nudist camps with a bacon

slicer goes on.

Inspector Lemuel Jones had a tip -off
this morning, but hopes to be back on

tomorrow.

The record company who recently issued
Rod McEwan's greatest hit, Without a

in the Middle, today offered the
following advice to Biles. Take a polar

and using it as a template, bore a hole
through the centre of the record.

For even better results, play the polar
mint.

Finally, in mere Wiltshire, a Great Dane
has been crossed with a bicycle pump to

produce a dog that really puts the wind
up postman.

Now a sketch featuring Mr Ronnie Barker,
whose hit single this week shot up to

number 36 in the Irish top 20.

I saw you standing over here all on your
own.

I thought I'd just come over and make
fun of you.

Well, you have got a problem, haven't
you, huh?

You're the life and soul of the party,
aren't you?

I bet you're a right old little box of
fireworks when you get going, aren't

I'm sorry? Oh, dear.

Oh,

we're getting vicious now, are we? Oh,
dear, vicious.

I hope you're not one of these Hell's
Angels people, are you?

Come round to fright us with your thick
knives and your razor blades and your

copies of Woman's Own, are you?

No, you're probably not, no. I actually
think you're one of those obnoxious

people who gate -crash his parties just
to pick fights with the bouncers, aren't

you? I have not gate -crashed, I beg
your pardon. I have an invitation.

We both have.

Oh, both? Oh, you're married, are you?
Yes. Oh, dear, your poor old wife.

She's scraping the bottom of the barrel
with you, isn't she? Well, thank you not

to talk about my dear wife like that.
She is, in fact, a very warm -hearted

generous person.

I'll have you know she gave me extra
pocket money last week.

There aren't many women about like that
these days. No, thank God.

She sounds a right old dragon to me.

Fancy being stuck indoors all day with
her.

Oh, no, she lets me out every day to go
to work, you know.

Now, don't tell me what you do. You're
an accountant, aren't you?

No, no, much too boring for me. I
require something that's much more

more stimulating. I may not look it, but
underneath, I can tell you.

Proper little firebrand, I should say.

Oh, are you really?

What do you do, then? What are you, a
pork butcher in Golders Green, or what?

Gee whiz, baby. Fan my flies. You must
be a right little tearaway, mustn't you?

You probably only came here because you
thought it was going to be an orgy, did

you? Certainly not.

No, no, probably not. I think your idea
of an orgy is a 1952 copy of Playboy,

isn't it?

With all the good bits ripped out.

What's your name, by the way?

Gavin.

Gavin? I'd say that must be the most
exciting thing about you, isn't it,

Oh, God, Gavin.

I can just imagine your parents lying
there in the dark and thinking, that

up.

They must be a right old pair.

Talking of right old pairs, who made
your teeth for you? A monumental mason?

Or did you cut them out of orange peel?

Are you trying to make a fool of me?
Good heavens, no.

No, no, no. I think you're managing very
well on your own.

Is your wife here, by the way? As a
matter of fact, she's over there talking

your wife. My husband's a millionaire.

What's yours?

A little rat.

Is he here?

Yes, he's over there talking to your
husband.

And it's time he was going home. He's
beginning to enjoy himself.

Come on out.

Bedtime. You haven't said a word to me
all evening.

Off hobnobbing with your male friends
half the night, me standing here like a

lemon.

Come on out. Yes, all right, dear, I'm
coming, I'm coming.

Good evening, here is the news.

In the House of Commons today, there
were stormy exchanges from both sides of

the House during a discussion on the
Prime Minister's forthcoming visit to

United States.

Using the new abbreviated form of speech
introduced into the Commons to save

time, the Foreign Secretary replied to
the MP for N2, Mr BF, and said that the

PM should P &O to the US as air travel
was NBG for a VIP.

In the 707, anyone could KO the PM and
the UN could do FA.

The latest trade figures are described
as encouraging by the chance of... The

chance of the exchequer. The October
figures... I'm awfully sorry, we seem to

picking up sound from another studio.

Excuse me.

Hello? Yes.

Yes, of course I can hear it.

Of course I can. It's Jackanory.

Well, yes, I watch it sometimes, yes.

Yes, very much. Yes, very much.

I apologise for the sound breakthrough.
It is being traced.

Meanwhile, I will continue.

Inflation still continues to rise at an
alarming rate.

Mrs Thatcher, attacking the government's
policy, said, once upon a time, there

were three bears.

I'm sorry.

Once upon a time, there were three
dollars to the pound.

And then there were two.

Two little dollar bills sitting on the
wall.

Fly away, Peter. Fly away, Paul.

Come back, Peter. Come back in the days
before the Labour government took over.

She was greeted with loud cheers, and
then she went home and had tea in the

nursery with lots of lovely jelly and...
And she ate so much that she was sick.

Sport.

Bob Fairbrother, now fully recovered
from the leg injury, had originally

to play this Saturday, but has now
stated that he cannot, as his mummy

him.

He says he can't come out to play until
he's done his homework.

Now it's time for another adventure
about Little Ben, the Wedge of Wood.

Little Ben was always being hard done by
because he was only made of wood, and

being wedge -shaped made it even worse
because people used to tread on his thin

end and kick his fat end.

He was always afraid to walk down the
street because he was frightened of the

boy who lived at number ten.

He was called Sonny Jim, but he wasn't
Sonny at all, really.

In the boy next door, Dennis the Menace,
used to tease the men, because he was

different from them, and then they'd run
away and he would be left on his own.

And he'd say, why am I always left?

So he went to see Jenkins.

He went to see Jenkins the Wizard, who
lived far away in the Welsh mountains,

who sometimes turned into a big green
dragon, and other times wore a white

collar.

He told Jenkins the wizard he was always
left, and Jenkins the wizard said,

Don't be silly. Of course you're not
left.

That's ridiculous.

My advice to you is to go for a trot. Go
for lots of trots. With a few trots

behind you, you can't be left, can you?

He turned into a green dragon again and
ordered a large gin and tonic.

Piggy Malone and Charlie Farley, our two
heroes, dauntless, hopeless, and the

laughing stock of the underworld, once
again were on the trail, speeding down

Devon in search of the answer to a
number of mystifying questions.

Who was murdering the yokels and dumping
them in London?

Why were they all dressed alike? And why
did they all come from the same place,

a remote village called Drake's Bottom?

Iggy and Charlie were on their way to
finding out.

Well, here we are then, Chief.

We are, yes.

No one else seems to be.

There's not a soul on the station.

Perhaps just as well, except we didn't
buy a ticket.

Yeah.

Yeah, when did you change out of your
schoolboy uniform? I never saw you.

In the toilet on the train.

Oh.

Taken a bit of a chance, weren't you?

If you got caught, we'd have had to pay
full fare.

Where is everybody?

Perhaps it's early closing day.

But there must be some form of
transport.

Taxi! Yes?

How long have you been there?

I just come. I come to meet the train.

Are you a taxi?

Yes.

Well, where is it?

You tell me where you want to go first.

We want to go to Duck's Bottom, my good
man.

Drake's Bottom, Chief.

Oh. Well, it's all the same, isn't it?
Well, it's not to a duck it isn't.

Drake's Bottom, eh?

That's it.

You want lower Drake's Bottom or upper
Drake's Bottom?

Up to you, Charlie.

You're navigating.

Well, I suggest we start at lower
Drake's Bottom and work our way up to

Drake's Bottom.

Righto.

Only, I mean, uh... You have got a taxi,
have you? Otherwise all this

conversation is a bit academic, isn't
it?

It's at home. I'll just go and fetch it.

Why don't you bring it with you?

Saves petrol, doesn't it? Wear and tear
on the upholstery.

Shall be long.

What about the wear and tear on his
upholstery?

I hope he's not long.

You got two pea, Chief?

No, why? Oh, it's all right, I've got
one.

Come here.

No,

I haven't got a two pea. It's all right,
I know how to work a dodge on this.

Get on.

22 stone six.

Half of 22 stone 6 is 11 stone 3.

Oh, goodness, you've lost a lot of
weight.

Actually, 15 stone.

I put on a hell of a lot, you know.
Watch it.

I've never known a place so deserted.

Not a soul about anywhere.

Perhaps they're having a siesta.

Don't they have siestas in Devonshire?

A lot of people go to Spain for the
holidays these days. They might have

up the idea from there.

I've noticed more people in London going
to bed in the afternoon lately.

Only because you've been up more ladders
looking in bedroom windows.

I mean, that is our main line of work,
isn't it?

Divorce and that.

By the way, that couple you were
studying in Kilburn, were they genuine?

No, they were false.

The bra was padded.

Big pity.

Huh?

I said big pity.

I thought you said something else.

And so our two heroes, searching for
lodgings, found themselves at Darkling's

Farm.

Little did they know what lay in store
for them.

There's an unhealthy atmosphere about
this place. I can sense it.

Think you'll find that's the pigs.

Oh, afternoon, gentlemen.

Looking for lodging?

Yes, I was wondering if you could fix us
up.

Yes, I think I've managed you all right.

Come on in.

All right.

You're a big boy, aren't you?

If you gentlemen have had enough to eat,
I'll show you your bedrooms.

Yes, very nice.

Very nice supper.

Shall I be a tech?

Have you

a soup?

Yes, it was very nice.

What soup was it?

It was nice, wasn't it?

Yes. Good cook, my wife. Good at
anything.

Really?

Not younger than me, you know.

I known her since she were a babby.

I used to sit her on my knee.

Not any more.

If not, she'd suffocate you.

What soup was it?

Eh? What soup was it?

Eh? What soup was it?

Eh?

What soup was it?

Eh?

What soup was it?

Eh?

What soup was it?

Eh?

Very nice. Very nice indeed.

Yes, it was nice.

Did you like it? No, it was horrible.

Yes, it was nice.

Very nice.

Right then.

Oh, by the way, lock your bedroom doors
because our Elsie tends to wander about

a bit in the night.

Elsie? Oh, yes, I've met her yet.

She's out at the moment.

Oh, she's lovely. Oh, you'll like her.

But she gets sort of restless at night.
She's got a very friendly nature, you

see. And she wanders about half asleep.

And she's a bit inclined to get into bed
with you.

And you wouldn't want that, now, would
you?

I wouldn't. Sorry, I mean.

No, I wouldn't.

Oh, yes, we must remember that. Lock the
doors.

Mind you, I've got the key to all the
rooms.

What is the secret of Darkling's farm?

Is Farmer Green a CIA agent?

What has the farmer's wife got up her
sleeve, apart from half a hundred weight

of mutton?

Find out next week in another exciting
episode of Stop Your...

you, Hugh.

Did you manage to get through to HQ?

Two minutes to two. Two minutes to two.

Yes, I think they realized.

Yes? I think they realized I was due to
get through. They cleared the line.

Divine.

What news of support?

Nought. Nought?

Lord Gort up at the fort thought we
ought to have sought support.

Before we went out and fought.

Say we ought, say we ought. It's all a
bit fraught. We are going to get caught.

Pass the port.

Here we sit, grounded, surrounded, and
completely confounded.

Cut off by the krauts.

Oh, dear, I feel queer.

I think I'll have a brandy, Sandy.

Do, dear, do.

I've been, uh, I've been thinking.
Drinking?

No, thinking. Oh.

Yes. We are not trapped completely,
Captain Wheaty.

There are certain very tight gaps in
these jetty -type jets.

Here is a map of one of the gaps.

Take a gander, Commander.

Good grief, O 'Keefe, do you expect me
to squeeze through these?

A man of my size with my thighs?

I'm a holiday, Halliday.

O 'Keefe, sir. O 'Keefe, oh, quite,
quite.

Oh, I'm thoroughly misforgotten, hot and
rotten.

And the stench in the trench.

If I'm not caught by Jerry, I shall die
of beriberi. Oh!

Pretty infernal, Colonel.

That's the understatement of the year,
you little queer. I've had it up to

Don't panic and get manic. Oh, it's no
good, chummy.

Oh, lummy.

I want my mummy.

Here, suck this dummy.

Come over to the bed and rest your head.

Try to unroll yourself and control
yourself while I give you the lowdown on

showdown.

Look, now we may have run out of ammo,
but we've still got an ammo.

He is conquering disease by degrees.

Private Schwartz has got warts. Private
Doyle's got boils.

Private Wurzel's pet weasel's got the
measles.

Corporal Clappy is not a happy chappy.

Still, you can't be a saint with his
complaint.

No, nobody smiles with piles.

Still, it's worse for the nurse.

Oh, God, what a balmy army.

Do you fancy a flip, sir?

Let's slip out of this hellhole.

Well, I'd certainly sooner be in
Solihull than sitting here shivering in

stinking load of shrapnel.

What's the plan, little man?

Frank's tank is on the bank. Frank?

Frank Messiter, the cricketer from
Chichester. Oh, him!

I thought his name was Jim.

Is he no longer with us, Smithers? Not
any more. He's gone before.

Jerry threw this grenade.

There sat Frank in his tank.

dreaming of cricket and a straight
middle wicket. When this grenade came

the wall, Frank thought it was a ball,
caught it and bought it.

So there sits Frank's tank on the bank,
and we've only Frank to thank.

Can you drive it, private?

I think so, yes. I can say without fear
of being egotistical, my vehicle test

verged on the artistical.

I can't repeat that.

I'd rather not try. I can quite see why.

When we leave... As soon as you feel
partial, feel partial. Oh, good.

So it's all go, go, go.

Bravo. We're all set. Let's have a wet.

Talking of a wet, might I be excused,
Generalissimo? I want to pop outside for

a... Yes, I know.

And so must I. So must I. But watch out
for a hun with a gun.

You go first.

If I hear a short burst, I shall feel
the worst.

If you hear a long thigh, you'll know
I'm high and dry.

Hello? Your 45th, the Fusilier here,
HQ82.

Who are you?

You are?

You are? They are?

Oh, how far?

Oh, hurrah! I see you in the barn by
your cigar. Ta -da!

We're relieved.

You as well, sir.

Get the Sergeant Bone on the phone.

Captain Hooper has turned up trumps
with... 22 troopers. They fired a

and hit the Kaiser squarely in the
tricer. He has retreated much depleted.

Ah, then now's our chance. Before we get
hurt and dropped in the dirt, let's put

on spurt and dessert.

But... Dessert? It's a good idea, my
dear.

You think we could start a new life
together, Merryweather? Of course we

silly man. Oh, you've made an old man
very happy, you dear chappy.

Just call me Merry, you old fairy.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Nolan sisters.

Lay that thing down before it goes off
and hurts somebody.

one two one

This week I'd like to tell you, if I
may, a rather religious story, because,

you probably know, today is the last
Thursday before Sunday.

I know that sounds rather like a
pathetic excuse to tell an old joke, and

is exactly what it is, because this joke
needs an excuse.

And if I could have thought of a better
one, I would have done. But as my old

dad used to say, he used to lean forward
in his chair, Ron, he used to say like

that, you know, Ron, you know.

I always remember that.

Actually, he didn't lean forward. I am
leaning forward so that you'll know when

it's me talking and when it's him, you
know.

Ron, he used to say. He had a wonderful
memory for names.

Ron, he would say, and a habit of
repeating himself that I seem to have

inherited. Ron, Ron.

You know, I've concentrated so much on
method acting that I can't for the life

of me remember what he said. Oh, yes,
yes, again, yes, again, yes.

Ron, he said, always remember, he said,
always remember, if I had a pair of oars

and some water, I could have rode this
chair to Oxford by now.

He didn't say that, I said that.

What he actually said was, Ron, always
remember, he said, the show must go on.

And he was 40 years a centre lathe
turner, so I don't know why I troubled

mention it.

But I did, so there.

Anyway, the joke.

Two vicars meet in the street, and one
of them says, Woe is me, he said. Woe is

me, some thieving parishioner has made
off with my bike, and from now on it

looks like Shanks' pony forever and
ever, etc., etc.

Or worse for that effect.

Good heavens, said his friend, lapsing
into the professional jargon. Good

heavens, he said.

By the way, now please don't think, I
don't want you to think I am knocking

religion, or anyone's religion in
particular. I wouldn't do that, believe

I can't wait to see the Pope catch up
with Dave Allen.

That'll cure his dandruff.

Anyway, I do come, to be honest, I come
from a very, very devout family.

Actually, my mother has recently started
her own religion.

It's called the Hare Krishna Good Old
Days and Bingo Appreciation School.

And it's all based... rather loosely on
the assumption that Del Shannon is a

reincarnation of Nellie Wallace.

My dad actually goes along with it all,
to be honest. Just something to do since

his ferret died.

He is actually the high priest of the
golden altar and second reserve human

sacrifice.

He was first reserve, but he works in
Tesco's on Friday evenings.

Actually, to be honest, they're both
rather eccentric, you know. It runs in

family. Good heavens, I've got an aunt
who likes Bernard Manning.

I digress.

I digress.

Back to the story, which incidentally
was told to me by our local vicar, you

know, after Eden Song and the Rat and
Handbag.

There's a little hostillery I frequent,
you know.

It's four -starred in the short change
guide.

And I promised... I promised to tell it
on the telly because he is a nice chap.

what a worker too I'll tell you
something I recall that an immigrant

moved into the parish and he was round
there before you could say get the curry

on a short talk from him and they not
only embraced Christianity but asked

if there was any more of it he pops into
the round he pops into the he

pops into the he pops

I told you I had a habit of repeating
myself.

He pops into the rat and handbag, the
vicar, has a couple of pints, and takes

confession behind the jukebox.

He's not a Catholic, you know, he just
enjoys confessions.

Anyway, I don't know why I'm talking
about it so much, actually. If he hadn't

got the wrong collars back from the
laundry, he'd still be on the buses.

And there we are, the two vicars.

talking about one of them had his bike
stolen, remember?

Woe is me, he says, our one whose bike
it was. Yea, woe is you, said his

His friend said, what about the local
police?

He said, I've thought about them, but I
don't want to accuse anybody until I'm

absolutely sure.

And his friend says, I've got an idea.
He says, next Sunday, you get up there

and you give them the full ten
commandments.

And when you get to thou shalt not
steal, have a look for the red face, and

will be the one who has purloined your
philosophy.

But I have a great temptation about here
to tell the story about when Moses was

in the desert. And he heard the voice
say, Moses, how would you like some

tablets of stone with some commandments
engraved thereon?

And Moses replied, you must be joking.
He said, here I am, fed up, far from

home, in the wilderness, and you are
trying to sell me some stones.

Goodbye and thank you for calling.

And the voice said, I am not selling
them for free. And Moses said, I'll take

ten.

A couple of weeks later, the two vicars
meet again and they stand there talking

shop about.

you know, life on the one day a week and
that sort of thing. And if buttons go

out of fashion, will people put zip
fasteners in the plate?

One of them said, how did you get on
about your bike?

Did the Ten Commandments idea work? And
the other vicar said, yes, he said, it

worked marvellously. He said, I went
through them all one by one, and when I

to thou shalt not commit adultery, I
remembered where I left my bike.

I am heaven, he is die.

Though he's small and I be no much, he
can get

much lower than I am.

Me and heaven, me and heaven, all

we want to do is sing like anything.

to make an honest curse.

We might have a young face or an old
face. You can't tell behind this

ruddy dust.

Ruff and tuff and black as the ace of
spades.

Ruff and tuff and black as the ace of
spades. There's no colour problem

down the pit.

We use our brains, boys.

We leave the mines and start life anew.

But the coal dust gets into your veins,
boys.

And lots of other funny places.

Pit head baths, they don't remove the
black.

In the nude, we stand there back to
back. Like a ton and a half of nutty

© BF -WATCH TV 2021

Took a girl to have some fun she last
Friday night.

Wouldn't let me kiss or hug her. She
just come to watch the rugger. Sent her

home that stupid blood wind.

My

wife

is a real fanatic.

I met a girl

called Megan, oh, she's got a wooden leg
and a wooden tit.

Be nice sort of look on her face Now
Megan was a cockney And her one knee it

a knockney And the other one had
woodworm All over the place Megan's flat

far from us And she made me a solemn
promise To show me a Dylan Thomas On a

bookshelf in the loo I started shaking
When she said her name was Megan Bacon

You can guess what I had for breakfast I
had berries

I met a girl called Sally, who worked in
the Rhondda Valley, giving lessons in

Bali, and she charged half a quid. I
danced with my fan, we, and my fan, we

said, can we? I fell flat on my fan, we,
and we damn nearly did.

Then I met another girl called Shirley,
who was big, beaky, broad, and burly.

Her hair, it was short and curly. She
played scrum hard for real.

But the nicest was Amanda, when I kissed
her on the... She asked

me to stop and I'm stopping there still.

Once a year the ball is ringing with the
sound of Welshmen

singing. At the fancy dress I stepped
foot down in go, go, go.

It was such a grand I stayed foot.

Opened by the Duke of Bedford. I went to
rest as Robert Redford on

his half day off.

Everyone competing.

Drinking, smoking, eating.

Songs were sung and leaks were sprung
and things were seen that wouldn't bury

teaching.

Oh, conductor Albert Stratton.

trouserless, but with his hat on, a
ribbon tied around his baton,

he one second cries.

To the valleys of the Rhondda, singing
songs from way back

yonder. But our minds are bound to
wander when we've had a jar.

Blood wins bosoms cause a ruffus.

Especially when she's wearing jumpers.
Black like knockers, more like bumpers.

Oh, God, no more car.

Megaton of Randy.

Granny smashed on Shanty.

Auntie Glad's gone raving mad with a
Randy handyman from Tony Pandy.

And so say all of us. And so say all of
us. Oh, don't go down the mine, Dad. Oh,

don't go down the mine, Dad. Oh, don't
go down the mine, Dad.

There's plenty of coal in the bath.

Before we go, two late football

results. The Arsenal -Stoke City match
was abandoned.

and the game between Nanita Nancys and
Farnham Fairies was very abandoned.

So that's all for this week.

Next week we hope to be talking to the
man who crossed the naughty 90s with a

Japanese airman to get a cami -nicker
pilot.

And we'll have a live link -up with
Australia where a skunk has been crossed

with a koala to produce a poo bear.

And good news for coach drivers, Peter
Pan has successfully been crossed with a

travel pill to produce a little boy who
never throws up.

And finally, news from the Middle East.

After exchanging his 500 wives for 500
others at a harem -swapping weekend

party, his magnificence, the potentate
of Abdul El -Wadi, henceforth wishes to

be known as his patheticness, the
impotentate of Abdul.

So, it's goodnight from me. And it's
goodnight from him. Goodnight.