Original subtitles

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

it is. And in a packed programme tonight, we shall be talking to the well

court photographer who will be showing us some of the photos he managed to get

before he was caught.

And then, Monsieur Pierre Buffon, France's most amorous football manager,

will tell us of his club's UFA Cup progress and why he's always glad to get

first leg over.

But first, the news.

Reports are coming in that Aboriginals in the remotest part of Sarawak are

having their first taste of Christianity.

He was the Reverend J .G. Pudlaw.

Bad news, too, for the Gay Lib Expedition to Borneo.

They have been captured by cannibals and made into fairy cakes.

Mr. Harry Spelt. who has been buying businesses all over the country,

today that he now has 39 surgical appliance shops.

He hopes very soon to make an offer for Trust House 40.

News from America. Steve Austin, the $6 million man, was found guilty of

speeding in his bionic car just outside Sacramento last week.

The judge ordered that he be fined $1 ,000 and dismantled for three months.

And Solomon F. Potts, America's most persistent practical joker, was buried

today. He isn't dead, it's just the neighbours getting their own back.

It was announced in London today that British Leyland have given up the old

clocking -on system.

Workers will now be invited to sign the visitor's book.

And George Mumble...

The Bodmin man who swallowed 200 weight of cascara for a bet on coronation night

today celebrated his silver jubilee.

He has been on the throne for 25 years.

Finally, here is a police message. Will the man who lost... Eight bottles of

whiskey at Euston Station this morning. Please go to the lost property office by

Platform 9, where the man who found them has just been handed in.

But now a sketch featuring Mr Ronnie Corbett, whose wife thinks he's the salt

the earth.

That's why she keeps him in the teller.

Oh, good morning, sir. Good morning. Can I help you? Yes. Could I have a tin of

elbow grease, please?

Here we are.

A tin of elbow grease. Only we've got a mark on the wardrobe at home, you see.

And I'm trying to get it out, and the wife suggests I use a bit of elbow

on it. No, no, no.

That's just a slang expression, sir. What? There's no such thing as elbow

grease. No, that's just a way of saying, put your back into it, you see. Elbow

grease doesn't exist, you see. Of course it does. No, it doesn't, sir. Look, if

there wasn't such a thing as elbow grease, would I have come in here and

for elbow grease? What do you take me for, an idiot?

Yes.

Don't talk like that. I'm the customer. You go and get me a tin of milk. Look,

I'm sure there's no such thing as elbow grease. It's just your wife's way of

saying, put your back into it, you see.

It doesn't exist.

If it meant put your back into it, it would be called back grease, not elbow

grease.

Back grease, elbow grease, there's no such thing, sir, if it's just a saying.

Ah, I know that. I know that, really. Well, why do you come in and ask for it

then, sir?

Well, I was just plucking up courage to come in and ask you if you've, um...

If you've got any packets of... What? What? If you've got any packets

of... What? What? Packets of what?

Things. Things. What? Any packets of things.

You know. Things? You know.

Things.

What things? What things?

Well, you know.

Things. Look, sir, I've got hundreds of packets in this shop, and they're all

full of things.

I don't... No, I don't mean things like that. I mean things like that.

Yes, yes.

I'll tell you what I'll do.

I'll put the money on the counter and I'll turn round and stand as though I'm

waiting to meet somebody and you slip the things in my pocket and then no one

will know.

OK.

OK,

you can turn round now, so it's all over.

It's exciting, wasn't it? Like James Bond, wasn't it?

Well, where's my change? Could I have my change?

Change? What change?

The change for the things you've just sold me. I haven't sold you anything,

I don't know what you're talking about. You've just done me out of a fiver.

No, I haven't sold you anything, sir. I really... If you don't want to buy

anything, would you mind leaving the shop, sir, please?

All right, I shall take my custom somewhere else. But think of the

you'll lose when I go down with a nasty attack of the flu.

I'll survive, sir. Are you... Just a minute. Are you going back to the wife?

you with the... Are you? Yes.

Here, catch.

What's this?

Elbow grease. Put your back into it. Go on.

I'm speaking to you tonight from the Department of Ballots and Elections.

Two words to be remembered, but not necessarily to be shouted out in Chinese

restaurants.

Now, we at the Department have an entirely new scheme for improving

We're going to abolish it.

But how will we run the country? Well, in the next nine months, each of you

be having one of these, which might be a little disappointing to expect in

mothers.

Just a joke.

There'll be another one later, so watch out.

Now, armed with these buttons, you will be able to behave exactly as if you were

a Member of Parliament. Now, you press this button for yes.

You press this one for no thank you, but it was very kind of you to offer.

If you press this one, you can't make up your mind, you simply press this one

and you get your finger.

regional differences. Of course, those of you in Scotland, you'll get one of

these.

The buttons, of course, the buttons, of course, will be Ochai, Hootsmon and

Ardynakin.

And here is the Welsh model.

It's got no buttons, but who cares what they think?

Now, you, the voter, will have to say yes or no to such questions as should we

return to free collective bargaining or tight trousers, do they erode our

differentials?

Now, all your buttons are connected directly to our machinery here, so don't

turn around too quickly.

That is the other joke.

No, seriously.

Seriously, this centre here is packed with sophisticated hardware.

Here, for instance, is a chap that speaks 11 languages. Now, how will you

when to vote? Well, you will be informed by television, and so as not to spoil

your normal viewing, the questions will be cunningly inserted into your

favourite programme, such as when the vote comes in.

When someone turns to the camera and says, What about the motor show about

we do?

you're tuned into the Pakistani programme, I think.

Now, when the voting starts, we at the centre will wait 10 seconds for those of

you who can't find your buttons, and another 20 seconds for those who can't

their fingers, and then we will get a sound like this.

Especially if we had the prune curry at the Chinese restaurant.

my instrument panel here, and I see that we're waiting for the rural vote from

Somerset.

Thank you, Gaffer. Any more? There was one here.

That's my doctor.

Ah, that flash is from the Noise Abatement Society.

Now, this only leaves the hairdresser's vote from Mincing Lane.

Thank you, sweetie. So there you have it.

Right. Now, how will people vote? Well, our research suggests that it will be

yes, 39%, no, 33%, and rump at 98p a pound.

But if you're not sure, toss a coin. Or in Scotland, toss a caber.

Now, this map here shows the English counties coloured either red or blue

according to party. Now, this mauve colour shows that the Scots can swing

way.

And that is a great advantage of wearing a kilt.

Scottish vote.

Are mumps dangerous? They voted no, except in the Gaubles.

Now, everyone else, as you see, is red and blue, except the Liberals, who, as

you see, have rock all.

Oddly enough, we have found that 11 % of English counties end in sex.

Which is exactly the same as 34 % of evenings spent with Miss Clampett

Which reminds me, many people have come to me and said, where shall I put my

buttons? And I've made various suggestions, but there can be problems.

Last night, Miss Clampett and myself were having a long, hard debriefing

session, and her panel of buttons had been left rather foolishly in the middle

of the rug.

In the course of the evening, I voted 23 times against the Highways, Byways and

Flyovers Bill.

Not bad for a man who's seen four jubilees.

There you have it. But remember our slogan, hippity hop, buttons on top.

That's not just a better ending for Cinderella.

If you have any problems at all, do write to

me and I shall send you an official government naughty photograph of Miss

Clampett with, of course, a covering letter like this one.

to pick up your buzzers wherever you are, and if you like the scheme, give me

vote of confidence.

Still buzzers. Good night.

Iggy and Charlie, investigating the mass murders of yokels from the remote

village of Drake's Bottom, meet up with a wild gypsy girl called Lucy Lee.

You've got a lucky face.

She warns them to keep away from the graveyard where, she says, strange

-on go on.

Charlie, however, has invented a device to put the wind up any false apparition

who's caught creeping about the crypt.

Palmer continues to play host to his paying guests, showing them his

of interesting curios.

While his wife looks on, aching to show them a few curios of her own.

Candle snuffer.

That's been in the family for generations.

Oh, I like silver.

There'll be an old country scene in these parts.

Copper doth tarnish, brass it doth rub.

Pewter doth make a house look like a pub. But if you've got silver, no matter

how old, you've always got something that's not made of gold.

Makes sense, doesn't it?

As far as it goes, yeah.

My great -grandfather had one of these, yeah.

I shall never forget it. It was lying by his bed as he was dying.

He raised his head and he opened his eyes and said, the candle of my life is

going out. He said, and he picked this up, leaned over towards the candle and

snuffed it.

Yeah, then what happened?

Well, they buried him, that's what happened.

Oh, he was dead, was he?

You don't bury people unless they're dead, not employed.

What's that?

That's old.

That's very old.

That's one of the oldest things I've got here.

I suppose that's been in your family for generations and all, is it? No.

Got it last week.

Where? Found it. In the grounds of the manor house. They get them to catch

poachers. They be all over the place.

Dare say they could give you a nasty nip?

Oh, terrible.

They set some in twos and threes.

A young couple sat down on a pair of these in the woods last year.

Clang!

Terrible!

They were still locked together when we found them.

Is there terrible consequences?

Oh, not half. He had to marry her.

Why are they there?

Lord of the Manor don't like visitors.

Nobody's allowed in the house, not tradesmen even.

Oh, he's a dark horse, his lordship. A very dark horse.

And I speak as one who knows.

How? I used to be a jockey.

Do you think he's up to anything, the farmer?

Well, he is a bit odd.

I used to be a jockey. What does that mean?

That's silly, isn't it? That's a silly remark.

I could have said that.

Well, I'd have believed you.

I think the manor house needs investigating.

The sooner the better.

Don't forget we're ghost hunting tonight. Let's get that over with first.

Oh, certainly, certainly.

She's

still

got her eye on us.

She's still got her eye on you.

Has had since we arrived.

What exactly is she covering up?

It's pretty terrifying.

Remember, that's only the tip of the iceberg.

Fixed it up so that the arc light goes on the moment somebody steps on the

plank. Then we can see the culprit.

Just hang this there.

Thank you. You are an angel.

Do you reckon the farmer knows what we're up to?

Oh, no, he's safely tucked up in bed by now.

I wish I was. With that great big wharf of his.

Yes, on second thoughts, I'm better off where I am.

What the damn thing?

Don't tell me I've got to go all the way down to the bottom of the garden.

Everyone's through here tonight, ain't we? Eh?

The vicar over the charge of mission.

Gee, what's that?

Who

is

the mysterious occupant of the coffin?

Why was Farmer Green wandering around in his nightshirt? When he gets home

without it, will his wife be glad or sorry?

Don't miss next week's exciting episode of Stop!

You're killing me!

Anybody sitting here?

Well, if they are, they're very, very small.

No offence. No, not at all.

Oh, dear. It's silly. We all say it, don't we? We point at an empty place and

say, is there anybody sitting there? Yes, I know.

Could I have a look at the menu, please?

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Steak and kidney pie.

Sticken steak.

Bubbling steak.

Even hand pie.

What do you recommend?

Dinner's finished, sir.

I'm rather looking forward to that.

Well, I'll just have some coffee and biscuits, please.

Right, sir.

Oh, my God. Oh, dear, dear, dear.

Oh, dear.

Excuse me, it's the other shoulder. Pardon?

You threw it over your left shoulder. Oh, sorry.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't... I'm sorry.

Not your day, is it?

No, you can say that again.

Got out of bed the wrong side this morning.

Went to work in the wife's shoes.

Oh, no, I didn't.

No, I didn't. That's only a little saying.

It's funny, though.

I ought to have known. My horoscope said it wasn't going to be an easy day for

me. Oh, really?

Oh, that Madame Zodiac.

Oh, wonderful in the mail. Wonderful.

I accept greatly the story. By the way, I mean, it's not all too fair amount of

rubbish is talked. Oh, far from it.

Really? Oh, yes.

You believe in it? Oh, implicitly.

I'm Madame Zodiac.

You're not.

Yes, I am, yes.

And I've been looking at you.

I know what you are.

under the sign of the crab, weren't you? Yes, you're right.

Tell me, when is your birthday?

The 1st of July.

1st of July.

Oh, let me see now.

Oh, well, you see, it's a very bad time for you, this. You see, you are a lunar

person, aren't you? Am I? Oh, yes, yes. What time of day were you born? I think

just about after breakfast time, I think. Oh, well, with the moon in its

position, you really shouldn't have come out today at all. Well, I didn't

realise the moon was out at all.

I certainly, certainly did it there, didn't I?

When's your wife's birthday?

My wife's birthday is the 1st of November.

Ah, now she's on the cusp.

Well, she has been going a funny color now and again.

Look at that.

What a terrible mess. Well, it was destined, wasn't it? Destined.

Yes, it's not like me to make a mess like that, I can assure you. And he's

forgotten the biscuits. He's not brought the biscuits. Ah, well, he would. You

see, he's Leo.

Oh, I didn't realise. I say Leo. Could you bring me the biscuit?

No, no, no. He's a Leo sign.

Oh, well, what difference does that make to the biscuit? No, it doesn't affect

the biscuits. It just affects him somewhat.

Oh, I see. You can tell what sign people are by looking at them. Oh, yes. Oh,

yes. Now, that woman you bumped into just now, I should think you'd be fairly

safe in saying that she was a Virgo.

You'd have to take my word for it because you can't very well ask her, can

No, no.

Now, as for that chap sitting over there... Now, he is definitely Pisces.

I can tell that myself, yeah.

I wonder if I could have some of your coffee, could I? By all means. No, no,

please, please, please.

With Jupiter in Saturn, I think it's much safer if I do it myself.

Don't you? Yes, I shall sit here absolutely motionless.

I'm going through rather a nasty period.

It's all right until you came in, sir.

It's just like I told you. It's all destined, you see, all destined. You

should have stayed at home today.

You should have locked yourself in your bedroom for three days, you know. I

shall remain here motionless. I shan't move a muscle. I shall sit like this

until we get to Torquay.

You're going to sit there a long time.

This train's going to Edinburgh.

blocking off the road. Squad cars are blocking off all the roads. Police

marksmen all in position. Police marksmen all in position.

You've got the tear gas ready in case the swine tries to barricade himself in.

I've got the tear gas ready in case the swine tries to barricade himself in.

All right, Machine Gun Joe.

Come on out to places surrounded.

Perhaps he's watching Crossroads.

It's not on yet.

Anyway, he's a sadist, not a masochist.

All right, Machine Gun Joe, come on, we don't like being kept waiting.

We're the Sweeney.

All except him, he's the Weenie.

All right, lady, where's Machine Gun Joe Machete, the murdering cutthroat?

He's taking the kids to Brighton for the day.

Taking the kids to Brighton?

Yeah.

Do you want to leave a message?

Yeah, yes, just tell him that Chief Superintendent Buzzard and the heavy

from the Sweeney came round and... And we'll... Well, we'll come round again

tomorrow night, then.

Yeah, OK.

Well, what do we do now?

Well, um... Oh, I know, I know.

Can we all come inside and watch the Nolan sisters?

This is a story about a musician who goes into a pawnbroker's every week and

pawns his violin.

Which, if I may digress for a moment, is rather a coincidence because only this

morning I was talking to a reporter from the paper that's serialising my

sensational, unexpurgated life story.

The North Pipeshire Foundryman's Gazette.

Which I expect you've all been reading.

No, actually, to be honest, I sent my story to the Daily Mirror, you know, in

the first place.

All I got was a letter from Marjorie Proops telling me not to worry.

I was telling this reporter that I have never had a violin lesson in my life,

you know, which probably accounts for the fact that I can't play the violin.

Now, the reason I mentioned that at all was... So that the credit for any

musical terms, you know, in the joke that I might use, such as note or play

or a quick burst from the How's Your Father or any of the credit for those

go to our musical director, Ronnie Hazlehurst, himself a very talented

Or so he tells me.

I would actually ask for a round of applause for him, but he'd never hear

You know, he's as deaf as a postman.

You might have seen him about. He carries the BBC economy hearing aid, you

It's a piece of card with speak up written on it.

Good heavens, he must know where the body's buried all right.

Actually, he's very lucky to have such a dedicated bunch of musicians.

Do you know that they rehearse all day until eight o 'clock?

then they don't touch another drop until after the show.

I've often thought it would be great to have some musical ability, and I expect

some of they do as well.

I can remember when I was a child, after dinner in the evening, winter evenings,

the whole family used to gather round the old piano in the front room. Just

gather and stand round the piano like that.

wishing that one of us could play it.

As a matter of fact, the only musical member of my family was my grandfather,

who used to play the comb and paper, you know, until he became the first person

ever to get dandruff of the gums.

It was a little bit embarrassing, you know.

Every time he coughed, it was like being caught in a snowstorm.

Eventually, they cured him with the new wonder drug.

which had rather unexpected side effects, and his picture was on page

the Sun last night.

I'll tell you how I came by this story about the chap with the violin.

I happened to pop into the pub next door to get a jug of stout for Esther

Ransom.

And Ronnie Hazlehurst was in there, you know, having a chat with the hat stand.

He doesn't see too well either.

Come to that, neither did I.

It was me that bought them both a drink.

He said, Ron, I've got a great story you could tell in the old chair tonight. He

said... It's a goodie, he said, a real goodie, he said. They won't have to

smuggle you out the side door tonight.

Great loss to the diplomatic corps when he left.

The one thing about Ronnie H, that's what we call him, Ronnie H.

Ronnie H, the one thing, he can tell a good story.

I have never forgotten the one he told me about when he auditioned a couple of

violinists, you know, because he had, you know, a vacancy for a violinist.

If you ask me, he's got a vacancy for an orchestra, but anyway.

Who's going to tell him? Anyway, do you realise that as an occasional singer,

I'm sitting here committing professional suicide?

There'll be notes coming out of that band room that you would frighten Mick

Jagger.

Now, when the two violinists turned up for the audition, one was a young man,

you know, very well -dressed, good suit, tie pin, tie, digital cufflinks.

A touch of Bristol cream on the hair.

And his violin in a brand new imitation case.

The other was a ragged old man, unshaven, dirty, smelling of booze, and

violin was all wrapped up in old newspapers.

And the band leader said, he said, I called the young man up, and he took out

his violin, and he played, and it was terrible.

And the other one said, he said, me neither, said the old chap. So the old

came up, unwrapped his violin with loving care, and he put it under his

you know, and he was a damn sight worse than the other one.

Which fortunately reminds me of a joke.

Apparently this musician goes into his local pawn shop every Friday.

and he pawns his violin for a couple of pounds and redeems it every Monday. So

one day, a violin expert happens to be in the pawn shop, and he said to the

owner of the establishment, he said, good heavens, he said, and bless my

he said, the violin that that man just pawned for two quid is a rare, genuine

Harley Davidson.

He said it's worth no less than 80 ,000 pounds.

When the musician comes back to redeem his instrument, the form broker has an

idea, you see, to make himself a few pounds.

So he said to the chap, he said, excuse me saying this, but obviously fate has

not been very kind to you. You wouldn't be in here at the hawk shop every week.

Why don't you let me give you a few quid for the old violin, give you a chance

of getting a fee?

What do you say? I'll give you 25 quid for it.

Oh, and I said, I couldn't. Oh, thank you very much, I couldn't do that. What

about 35?

He said, oh, no, he said, I couldn't do that.

45, he said.

Oh, fellas, how much would you take for it? The chap says 80 ,000 pounds.

Thank you.

Can't afford to keep us fed.

We got a butter mountain, but we got no bread.

Long time ago, when bread was great, plenty of food upon our plate. What's

cost of living now? Don't make sense.

Two pennants of chips cost 25 pence. The government, they've loaded the pound.

They are bloated up, there's no more around They decimalized our currency Now

it's in for a penny and out for a fee My island in the red Into the

market stood for lead Can't afford to keep us fed We got a water mountain but

got no bread

Long time ago when Britain was great Before the cash evaporated Income tax at

seven pence was very cheap Now seven pence is all they let you keep Can't

beer and can't afford bread Can't afford clothes so we stay in bed But you let

me play, it's important Thank the Lord that I can't touch that I am in

a red You know the market's stone -colded

Can't afford to keep us fed.

We got a butter mountain, but we got no bread.

We got a butter mountain, but we got no bread.

She's tall.

Black as a cinder.

High as a wall.

Skinny and bony.

Sleek as a pony.

Sweet as a rose.

They call her Linda. When she's in bed, her feet stick out the window.

So it's said, and folks is rushing to hang their washing on her

toes.

You must believe me and believe in proof.

Oh, when she sees me, she does hit zero.

One day I pinned her against the wall.

But sad to say, man, she walked away, man, over my head.

They call her Linda.

And I fear that if you skin her, she disappear.

But I won't try it. I can't deny it. I love her so.

I'll marry Linda when I can.

Cause she thinks that I'm a clever man.

She may be skinny.

But he's the teacups, girl, I know.

Now,

here's

a medley of titles that you all know. We're not going to sing the songs, only

the titles.

And you all must join in now, so that you white people have got the rhythm.

Here we go then.

It's a long week.

to temporary when the poppies bloom again.

Blue skies are around the corner, though we're singing in the rain.

Three coins in the fountain, it's a sin to tell a lie.

Over my shoulder goes one care and two lovely black eyes.

Red sails in the sunset underneath that old street.

Everything's behind me when we're dancing cheek to cheek.

South of the border to the north of Kathmandu.

I got a lovely bunch of coconut.

at me roadside stall selling me fruit and me vegetable.

Me mangoes is big and circular and me nuts is the best in Jamaica.

Awesome and attractive customer.

She look at me and I look at her. What you got in the shape of a cucumber?

She say and I say a banana.

But I've no respect, you know, for the quality of the goods on show. Up come

this big woman in diamonds and pearls. She squeezed me melons, so I squeezed

hers. Don't give me all that stuff. Me dem fancy clothes, you're big on top.

What you like when you peel off?

She say, and I say, a banana.

She say to me, Johnny, you're a lazy man. You're sitting in the sun and

a tan. I'm here all alone and I've had no tea.

Been sitting on me own and getting hungry.

What you brought home to give to me?

She say and I say about now.

That's all we have time for tonight, but before we go, here is the late news.

A man who has lived for three months in the London sewers was today held by

police at arm's length for questioning.

And Worcestershire's most famous gardener, Fred Waterbutt, died this

In his will, he has asked for his ashes to be sprinkled on his beloved vegetable

patch, lightly forked in at one ounce and square yard.

At Crystal Palace this evening, Neville Stitch broke his own world record in the

800 metres. He was so pleased he went on to try the high hurdles, thinking they

were the low hurdles, and shattered his personal bet.

And finally, the draw for next year's Wimbledon doubles championship was made

tonight. There will be a confused opening round in which a woman and a man

used to be a woman meets a man and a woman who used to be a man.

The winner of that match will play a man who became a woman but is now a man

again, partnered by a woman who's saving up to be a ball boy.

Next week, we'll be meeting the Irishman who plans to cross the Atlantic on a

plank when he can find one that's long enough.

Good night from me. And it's good night from him. Good night.

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