Original subtitles

Good evening. It's wonderful to be back with you again, isn't it, Ronnie? Indeed

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

who has been putting turf in his underpants in the hope of getting

support.

And we'll be hearing of a new lager.

for easygoing girls, which claims to refresh the park that anyone can reach.

And we'll be revealing what civil servants have for lunch about four and a

hours.

And there was bad news this morning for relatives, neighbours and friends at the

reading of the will of J Septimus Cadge, Britain's worst borrower. He left

everything he owed to charity.

Whilst at Swizzlewick, Yorkshire, this afternoon, the lady mayoress unveiled a

large bust outside the town hall when she caught her blouse in the car door

handle.

Wings Rail today opened their first booking office come betting shop.

This means you can buy a ticket and put a bet on whether or not there'll be a

driver for your train.

This afternoon, thieves broke into the luxury home of Rasmus Backstop, the

budgerigar cage millionaire.

He claims they totally cleaned him out.

Finally, The Soho girls pay negotiations took a new turn today with the girls

demanding more money on the table.

A lot more money on the floor and day two money on the table.

But now a sketch featuring Mr. Ronnie Corbett, a man who freely admits that

sex manuals have improved his love life. He stands on them.

Come in, come in.

Good morning, Mr. Gummidge. Good morning. Good morning.

Good morning.

I understand you wanted to see me. Yes, I do, Geoffrey. Glad to take a seat with

you. Yes, Mr. Gummidge. Now, listen, Geoffrey.

You've turned out some very nice words for greetings cards in the past five

years that you've been with Gummidge's. Thank you very much, Mr. Gummidge. I do

try my best, you know. I know you do, Geoffrey. I know you do. Which makes it

all the more surprising that you suddenly come up with rubbish like this.

Rubbish? What sort of rubbish is that? What sort of rubbish is here on my desk,

Geoffrey lad? I mean, listen to this one here. To a valentine.

Roses are red, violets are blue.

I bet you look sweet when you're sat on the loo.

It is one of yours, isn't it, Geoffrey? It is one of mine, yes.

I'm not very good at valentines. No, well, it's not only the Valentine card,

Geoffrey. I mean, here is a get well soon.

Look at this one here.

Your illness, dear husband, has made me aware of how our love has lasted.

Even though you go to the pub every night and come home three parts

It's just not good enough, Geoffrey, is it? No, it's not, Mr Gummidge. No, I'm

very sorry about that. Well, it's no good being sorry, Mr Gummidge, is it? I

mean, I've got here, I've got here a card for a daughter of 18. Now, listen

this.

Happy birthday, daughter. You're 18.

We think you've turned out swell.

You're old enough now to have a fag. And a bit of hours your father as well.

It's hardly the sort of thing that a loving parent would want to send to her

-year -old daughter, is it? No, Mr. Gummish, no. No, I'm quite pleased with

my... To a sweetheart card.

Well, let's have a look at it. I've not yet had the benefit. Come on, let's have

it over here.

Thank you very much.

Oh, you can keep your devs and your dolly birds.

You can keep your punks and your rockers.

Give me someone like you.

Someone faithful and true.

With black leather boots and big... Words

just fail me,

Geoffrey. They just fail me just.

Are you going to give me the sack then, Mr. Gummidge? Well, I can see no

alternative, can I? Unless, what is that one in your hand by there?

Oh, Mr.

Gummidge, I don't think you'll like this. If you didn't like those, you're

certainly not going to like this. Well, give us the benefit. Give us the benefit

of the doubt, lad. Read it out to us, please. All right, Mr. Gummidge.

To a sweet and gracious lady.

So gentle and generous and kind, with a heart of pure gold filled with loving,

and a face like a monkey's behind.

It's fantastic, that one.

Fantastic? Fantastic is just what I'm looking for, for the new mother -in -law

range. Oh, lovely.

I shan't have to give you your cards after all.

Here you are.

you will remember me. My name is Pocter Poggesmish of the Royal Society for the

Prevention of Piss Pronunciation.

For people who can't say their worms correctly.

I last broke you in the tiddly vision three or four queers ago.

I expect a number of you will dismember my face.

On that occlusion, I appeal to you from the bottom of my tart.

The square of thought for those unfortunate inky diddlers.

Ordinary people like my elf who just can't steam to spray their worms

And it's not very runny, I can tell you.

Particularly when you're trying to lay very difficult birds, like, well,

Like... You

see, I was trying to say Cardiff.

Now, the society needs money.

Your money.

That's why I've been asked by the margarine detector here at the BBC...

to drip in the studio tonight and do a special programme for the tremblers of

the society so that you, the average gluer, will take potty on us and send us

large accounts of mash and get the dick out of a nasty pre -fundament.

Now, I'm going to bleed you a nice pimple story out of this boob here that

bicky can understand.

It's called Little Dead Riding Hoof.

Ponce upon a tomb, there was a titty young girl whose gnome was Little Dead

Riding Hood.

She lived in an old blouse by the river, in the spade of the shedding twist -nut

cheese.

Both her mummy and Doddy were deaf and gone, and she was an orphan.

So she had to look after her little brothel and three young shites.

One day, on a fine spring morning in early Apricot, Red Rising Flood decided

would be a goofy idea to visit her grandmother.

So having packed her gasket with lots of rude things to tweet, flamboyant jack,

homemade ample flies, and Sam Handridges, she shot off for her

scratch cottage, deep dupe in the florists.

But unknown to Little Bed Writhing Nude, a nasty wicker wolf had already

raptured her granny, blocked her up in the coal smeller, and taken her place in

bed between the shorts underneath the slider down.

¶¶ ¶¶

You're not my old tranny at all. You're the wolf in wick.

As she tried to scrape through the bedroom widow, the wacky dwarf grabbed

of both her charms.

Shave me, shave me, she crewed. But then that precise motel encrusted the yokel

wood -nutter.

Hanging a big chopper over his shoulder.

Bake your flans off that grill and leave her a loafie clouded or I'll slice off

your bread.

So the Wicked Wharf ran away and the Wood Nutter picked her up in his string

hairy rams and curried her in his house for tea.

Little Bread Pudding Club put the cattle on the horse and their brittle old

cranny toyed jeers of wet.

And she said to them, I hope you both make love happily over afters.

That is the friend of my hairy Tory.

Good night.

Did you ever have a plan, a dream, and think it would be right for

you?

For a moment in your life, believe heaven would decide

for you.

That feeling deep inside will guide you to a love you

treasure. It's you and I.

Bye. Bye. Bye.

Let it fall, believe it, you don't have to chase it.

Cause there's a new world all around you that's so good, darling, and

it's made for you. There's nothing more you need to do to keep on believing.

It's really...

The year is 2012.

In an England which has now been entirely taken over by women, where

the breadwinners and the decision -makers, and where men are completely

subjugated, forced to wear dresses and given feminine names, our story concerns

two men, Janet and Betty.

These two downtrodden specimens are on the run, wanting for crimes against the

state by the dreaded secret police.

They have decided to go into hiding, but not before they steal their own

identity papers from police headquarters, a building once known as

London, now renamed Barbara Castle.

Janet, an employee at the castle, runs over his daring plan with Betty, outside

the grey walls of the grim fortress.

Now, as soon as I get inside, I'll go to the lavatory. Pardon? The lavatory. The

window looks out onto the street. That's it up there.

Oh, yes, yes.

I'll stick my pass out of the window.

I'll stick it out of the window and you grab it.

No, I'm sorry. I can't hear a damn thing with this cotton wool. I'll take it

out. What's it there for?

It's those cannons on the parapet that go off every hour on the hour. I thought

I'd take a bit of precaution, that's all.

Well, that's part of the plan. You'll have to get used to the cannons.

Now, you take my pass, change the photo, get in with the pass.

I'll be waiting outside with the bucket.

Right.

Good luck, Janet Hilton.

How much, dearie?

You're rattling your keys.

How much?

How dare you, madam? I'm not a common streetwalker.

Well, what's your rattling your keys for, then?

I happen to have the palsy.

Oh, beg pardon, I'm sure.

Two buckets.

Um, double time Sundays.

Well, get on with it.

Oh, Tam.

Oh, dear. Hello. Hello, me.

Oh, thank you very much.

It's these damn shoes. I'm awfully sorry.

I'm kindly, I'm so clumsy. I'm awfully sorry. You're quite, you're fine, you're

fine. You're absolutely fine.

Don't worry about it.

I'll be out of your way in no time at all.

Yeah,

that's all right. I'll leave the rest. It's only money, isn't it? I've got

piles. Which reminds me, I wouldn't sit there too long on that cold paper.

people about for my liking. The sooner we get in that records office, the

better. We've got to find a cleaning trolley from somewhere now. Come on.

I told you a thing and you're going with my trolley car, aren't you?

Oh, Betty, this is Deirdre. Deirdre Collingwood. This is Betty Chalmers.

new here?

You don't look very new to me.

What's your game, you rat?

Now, don't stop.

Who's going to stop me? Your friend Betty.

What?

You're going to say...

of your little friend, eh? Well, about that, he was... He's here to have got

something.

Got what?

Um, boot oil.

What's boot oil?

Uh, boot... It's a new directive, you see. I mean, if an officer comes to you

and says she's got squeaky shoes and you haven't got it, um, you're for it.

Boot oil?

What do you mean? What have you got in you, then?

Oh, I don't know. I think I've got it.

You'd better get up for supplies and get yourself something.

Don't forget to get both sorts.

Black and brown.

Black and blue if we're still here when he gets back.

It's four minutes to ten. At ten o 'clock, the gun fires three times at 15

-second intervals. Now, you have got to use these three bangs to cover any noise

you might make.

What I need is a machine gun to cover the noise of my knees knocking.

Lovely day.

I'll empty this for you. Okay.

That's it.

Okay,

thank you.

There we are.

Sorry I'm a bit late.

I feel that only I was... I had to tidy up the other... Yes.

You.

Yes.

Yes. Ah.

Good answer to start.

The guns go off every day.

I know, I know.

I'm sorry.

It's my nerves, you know. I can't be a noise of any sort.

I once joined a silent order of a monastery. I had to leave.

Why? There were such noisy eaters.

Oh, dear.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Was that the last one?

Yes, only three.

Oh, that Kevin's a laugh.

I'm going to have to ask you to stand up, I'm afraid. I want to just dust your

chair. Why?

It's a new directive.

All chairs have to be dusted.

All finished round there, Betty?

Oh, yes.

All nice and tidy.

Off we go, then.

Go get up.

Bye.

Bye.

As soon as she sees that mess, she'll be after us.

No, she won't. I've stuck her trousers in the chair.

Look out!

My bucket's on fire.

It's a straight cigarette head.

It's forbidden to impersonate women now, you know.

Danneroo's still locked up in here somewhere.

You faced the wall.

You deserted your post and lost your tronic.

You know that. We know everything. It's because we eat so much beef, you see.

You're a stupid nitwit. You set me up.

find them. They must not be allowed to escape.

But they've burned their identity papers. We have no photographs to go on.

Silence. One is short, the other is fat. They won't get far.

They must be got rid of.

Liquidized. They're truly liquidated.

No. We have a new method.

What will happen to our heroes, Janet and Betty?

Have they burned their boats as well as their papers?

Have they jumped out of the frying pan into the liquidizer?

Find out next week.

in another excruciating episode of The Worm That Turned.

Yeah, you know that woman who lives over the back of Tompkins?

Oh, wow, yeah.

She got a bright pink mini.

Who do you know?

Well, I seen her in it.

Oh.

Why, what about her?

What? I say, what about her? Oh.

Well, old Jack says she's always been on at her husband to buy her a Jaguar.

Well? Well, he did.

And he ate her.

Evening. Sanders.

Rodney Sanders.

I'm your roommate tonight.

Oh, Snetterton. PJ Percy.

Yes, I know what you're looking at.

Terrible colour, isn't it? Well, it's, you know, it's unusual.

It's one of the two drawbacks of my invention, you see. Hair Restore.

stuff, but it does turn your hair pink.

What's your invention?

Oh, this.

Hair Restore. Makes you invisible.

No. Yes, yes.

The trouble is, it only lasts 30 seconds at the moment. That's one of its two

drawbacks. But I'm very pleased. It's pretty amazing.

Fantastic.

Fantastic. Oh, time for another dose of this. Excuse me. Sorry.

Dose? What do you mean? You actually drink it? Oh, yes, yes, yes. It tastes

rather like sherry, yes. I say, do me a favour. I'm dying to spend a penny.

Could you pour me out a dose, please? A tumbler full of that and a teaspoon full

of water. Yes. I won't be a moment. Exactly.

Thank you very much. Oh, thanks. Cheers.

Oh, God, that is a strong one.

Are you sure you only put a teaspoon in there?

No, you said a tumbler of the stuff deep in the water.

Oh,

I don't suppose it'll matter. Look, I'm dying to see your invention. Come on.

Oh, right.

Anyway,

I'll do it.

Call me a chambermaid, you see, if you like this. Then I'll spray you with

Yes, yes. Make you disappear, yes. And then you can creep up behind her and

surprise her.

That's fun, that's fun.

Stay where you are.

I'll be back here. It's about five or six paces. Here we go then.

You going?

You going?

You're gone.

You're gone, absolutely.

Am I gone? Yes, Jake. Look in the mirror.

Can you tell me what's on the room service menu?

Well, sir, if you fancy a little... Whoops!

Thank God, that's the overdose I've just taken. Never mind, never mind. I always

get a hair cut. Come on, let's have a go at that.

and recoloured hair.

This girl said she felt something in this room. Oh, really?

Oh, probably static electricity, I should think.

Yes, you get it with nylon carpet, you know.

Ridiculous. You can't get static electricity in your mouth.

Oh, you're as bad as the others.

Oh, I

see.

That's the most marvellous invention I've ever seen. You're sure to win the

prize. Oh, no.

I've never seen a hair restorer like it. You mentioned two drawbacks, like minus

two drawbacks. What was your second one? Well, it weakens the roots of the hair,

you see. If you get a sudden shock, it could all fall out. Oh, nasty.

Yeah.

What was your other drawback? Well, I'll tell you what it is. As I spray on the

stuff, you see, the molecules in my body reach a highly volatile state. So if I

use it too much, you know, I could explode.

Oh, dear.

But how much is too much?

Well, I've no idea. I mean, I might have been doing it too much already. I mean,

there just comes a point, I suppose...

Here's

a very funny joke, which I picked up cheap the other Friday at our local

sale.

Incidentally, at various points during the story, a man over there... in this

corner here, will be holding up a big card with the word laugh on it.

Just over there.

Take no notice of him.

He's got laryngitis.

Actually, now I come to think of it, it was Thursday I went to this jumble sale

because Friday was the 13th and I never go out on Friday the 13th because I'm

very superstitious.

Ever since the disaster that occurred the last time I walked under a ladder.

I clean forgot the budget was still up it.

My wife warned me, she said, on your own head be it.

She was right.

She can talk.

I suppose that's pretty obvious, otherwise she wouldn't have said on your

head be it. Anyway, she was a little tense this day and wanted to be left

She said, why don't you take the kids down to the vicar's jumble sale?

You never know, they might fetch a few quid.

So there I am, in this church hall, perusing the oddments and looking

old magazines. Oh, by the way, tonight I am determined not to ramble on at any

price. Because I've already had two public warnings from the high echelons

the BBC.

They keep a very close watch on this show. This lunchtime, I was up in the

canteen, carbon dating a piece of burnt toast.

That's an exaggeration. The service up there is incredibly slow.

Would you believe the meals take so long now that they have to put mothballs in

jacket potatoes?

It sounds revolting, I know.

But it does improve the flavour.

On quickly to this cheap joke that I am going to tell. The one I bought in the

jumble sale. Which concerns this chap who goes to the doctors.

He goes to the doctors.

I was at the doctors the other day about this.

Cold, I've got.

I've got this cold. I can't get rid of it.

Had it since I was 11.

So I went to see the doctor the other day with my nose.

Well, actually, I saw him with my eyes.

Well,

I mean, I had my nose with me.

Well,

it's best to carry most things, anyway.

You never know. This Jack goes to the doctor. He said, I feel a bit rough.

Or so the wife tells me.

Rather worried, I am losing a lot of weight.

Well, the doctor has him undress.

Rather a disturbing sight.

Because he's incredibly thin, this chap.

With a very, very hairy chest.

With his shirt off, he looked like a toothbrush.

The doctor examined him thoroughly with the telescope.

I forgot to tell you, he was very shy.

He said, in my opinion, you are overworking. What you need is a complete

Get away from crowds.

Get away from excitement.

Go and see Ronnie Corbett in Cabaret.

A little plug for my Cabaret act, which, to be honest, is going through a bad

patch. These days I do an hour and a half, then the audience select a foreman

and go away and consider the verdict.

Sometimes, if it's going really well, I invite one or two members of the

audience up and do a card trick.

Sometimes I invite them all up and we have a game of bridge.

Anyway, off goes this chap.

home to his wife. Now I must point out at this, this is not the happiest of

marriages. The truth is they're both total opposites.

He's a man and she's a woman.

He's thin and she's a little bit on the tubby side.

So he goes home to this chap and there is his wife in the front room ironing

cat.

Very house proud.

She's the sort of woman who puts a hair net on a peach.

And he tells her what the doctor has said. He says there is only one thing

it, a holiday.

About time too, says the wife.

I haven't had a decent holiday in years.

How can you say that, he ripostes. What about that place we went to last year?

Sand everywhere, temperature up in the 90s. Dark -skinned natives toiling at

local crafts.

She said, I'm sorry, but Bradford Cement Works isn't my idea.

He said, well, never mind. He said, I have been making inquiries and I've

up. to spend a fantastic summer this year in Morocco.

She said, that sounds terrific, I can't wait to see what it all looks like.

He said, well, you won't have to wait long. He said, I'll send you a postcard.

She said, you miserly old skinflint, you don't mean you're going there without

me? He said, well, look, dearest treasure of my heart, this holiday

suit you at all, he said.

Because I found a somewhat naughty Arab quarter where apparently the husbands

have so many girls in the harems, they actually pay gentlemen seven pounds a

time to provide a night of passion for one of their wives.

His wife said, well, she said, right, in that case, I am definitely coming with

you. He said, why?

She said, I can't wait to see how you get by on 14 quid a month.

is right with the fruit from the vine. There's wine by the glass and beer by

stone. And when we've had it, it's time to say no.

It's cold with the grapes on the bunch. We dine by the Rhine with a breeze every

month. In my swig of Heinz and a pin on the lunch.

We're not very sober in October.

What about Bavaria? That's a typical area. And the snowy peaks, short, short,

and glowing cheeks.

What about Bavaria? It's a global area.

It's there to get the best.

When I hear the cuckoo sing, when I hear the calves go mooing, when I hear the

cowbell ring, then I think to my proud you.

Oh, the matter on his mind, and the Jungfrau's big and blue.

When I see them side by side, then my lips and my gut is new.

And you quaffed, and you laughed, and your dentures went down the drain.

In autumn time we love to dance.

I'm quite unique.

They're so antique.

They crack and creak. We're having them sold and healed next week. This will be

the best very thing.

I can be asked for winter sports.

Out of doors and out of shorts.

Wearing my third line thermal shorts.

Well, in a snowdrift. Let's just try.

Two big guys.

My problem's five.

Each took a leg. and one of them cried, why don't we make a wish?

Swimming down the mountain pass, just can't ease up. The snow and ice

are smooth as glass, one day freeze up. I'll tumble down a small

crevasse, legs and knees up. I'm frozen stiff as a busted peg.

Up stumps a dog with a brandy keg. It raised my hopes till it raised its leg.

Hello.

Hello. The echo is very bright.

Hello.

That wasn't very nice.

Yoo -hoo.

Yoo -hoo.

The echo is very bright.

The echo is like a bell. Bye -bye.

And you're one of them as well.

And you!

A blonde and a beer and a banger.

Ah, you're wanting something hot, Margarita cried.

I thought she meant the mustard, so no, I replied.

Guess who ended up with a beat on the side?

And I got the beer and the banger.

German dancers stand for cheer, full of fun and full of fear. German dancers

feeling bright, not a sauerkraut inside.

There's a beautiful band in the ground, clap your hands and slap your chum.

Rich's partner went too far, kicked him in the oompa -pa. I heard the singer

Schmidt, what a dancer, what a twit. See the way he steps his toes, ten of these

and one of those.

Wearing violets in his hat, he's amazing, he's a prat.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Seems to be about all we have time for, but before we go, a few late items of

news. In the little -known African state of Mpopoland, doctors have appealed for

help after running out of leeches.

Britain is to airlift in 200 estate agents.

Mr Wally Turnham has again won the most amorous milkman of the year award.

Apparently he's so popular with his lady customers that he's started to leave

notes on their doorstep saying none today, thank you.

up at the wages office of a timber yard was foiled today by a workman with a

chainsaw. Police are looking for a sawn -off man with a shotgun.

The president of the Society of People Who Like Eating Rotten Food said today

that their annual picnic had been a tremendous success with everything going

really well.

And in tonight's 3A's high jump finals at Wembley, Graham Tong of Basildon

didn't jump high enough, hit the bar and was eliminated.

Tom Bassett jumped too high, hit an overhead cable and was illuminated.

In next week's programme, we'll be talking to the man who crossed a chicken

a Ouija board and got a chicken that gets in touch with the other side of the

road.

Then we'll be hearing of the impact of silicone treatments in nursery land when

we talk to not -so -little Bo Peep, far from little Miss Muffet and enormous

Jack Horner.

Till then, it's goodnight from me. And it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.

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