Original subtitles

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

Indeed it is. And in a packed programme tonight, we shall be meeting the disc

jockey who crossed a little raver with a contortionist and got a girl who does

requests on the back of a postcard.

We'll be meeting Tiddles, a cat who never gets lost, and we'll be learning

secret of his success.

He only eats homing pigeons.

But first, the news. An Oxford University professor has returned from

East with the Dead Sea Scrolls.

However, it's clearing up nicely and he'll be back at work on Monday.

Super grass pigeon o' stool yesterday told how his only ambition is to become

pillar of the church.

Several of his oldest friends were out today buying sand and cement.

On sale in Moscow today were perfectly preserved frozen steaks of Siberian

mammoth from the last ice age. A spokesman said they are cheap and

but take 4 ,000 years to defrost.

Strong wind.

which swept through southern England last night caused extensive damage to

royal mint.

They also made a mess of the royal rhubarb.

Ginger, the first cat ever to go into space, had a nasty experience today. He

was seen to by the flying doctor.

Mr Cyril Smith confounded critics of his appearance today by revealing that his

suits are made in Savile Row and the two adjoining streets.

And now sketch time, Mr. Ronnie Corbett, in which I give him Sonia Lannerman's

phone number and he tries to pull a fast one.

Oh. Morning, sir. Morning. Morning.

Morning. My wife and I have just moved into the village.

And you've been recommended to us. Oh, that's very nice, sir. Probably because

we're the only shop in the area.

Well, now, sir, what can I do for you, sir? Well, the wife has written out this

shopping list. She's not got the best handwriting.

Not very easy to decipher. Oh, don't you worry, sir. You give it to me. I'm used

to reading people's terrible handwriting, sir.

No, I can't understand a word of that.

No, it's not easy. I shall have to have a go. I'll manage. I've got the sort

of... Yes.

Start off, a large tin of bears.

Large tin of bears. Bears what?

No, just bears.

Oh, that'll be pears. A large tin of pears, yes.

No, it's beans.

Sorry, beans.

Beans, is it? A large tin of beans.

Preferably Crescent Blockwell.

Yeah, that's Crescent Blockwell. Near enough, sir. There we are, sir.

Now, some Cornish Panties, is it? Cornish Panties. Oh, that'll be Cornish

Pasties, sir, yes.

How many would you like, sir?

Two. She eats them all the time. Oh, really?

Really? What size?

Outsize. Oh, is she?

Oh, there's a nice one, sir, there, with the nice frilly edges. There we are,

sir. One pair of frilly pasties. Right.

Are you sure they're the right size for the wife, sir?

Oh, yes, sir, they'll be all right. Well, because if they're not, tell her

pop by and drop them in the shop and I'll change them.

Right, now, want some slippy soap? Slippy soap, sir? No, stinky lube. Is

stinky lube, sir?

Loopy lube. Loopy lube. Oh, that'll be soup, sir. No, sorry, stinky loam.

loam? Yes, that'll be the fertilizer department over here.

I think it's spicy love. Spicy love? Oh, that'll be paperbacks.

No, it's sliced meat.

I've got it.

Sliced loaf.

Are you sure it's a sliced loaf? Yes, it's got wholemeal in breakfast. Oh,

would have helped to start with, wouldn't it? So really, there we are.

Wholemeal, there we are. So, yes. Jolly Christmas?

That's very nice of you, sir.

Jolly Christmas? Oh, jelly crystals. That'll be jelly crystals. There we are.

Jelly crystals? What else have we got? A small union man. Would that be you,

sir?

Small onion plant.

That's right.

I can't read the next one. What's that one?

Doll puddles.

Doll puddles?

Oh, I know what that'll be. That'll be the new dolly they've got out ready for

Christmas. Isn't she lovely, eh?

She wets herself and then comes out in spots all over the place.

Then you rub cream on it and her hair grows.

Must be dog puddles. Where? Not in here, sir. No,

it's... Look, silly me.

Dill pickles.

Oh, dill pickles, yes. We've got some of them. Dill pickles, right. It isn't

easy, but one gets used to them. Yes, you're getting it now, sir, yes.

Two large stiff and kindly pigs.

Oh, two large steam and kidney pills. That'll be these. They're all there

strong. They're not the raw things, sir. There we are. No, I don't think it's

those. No.

Is it two large steak and kidney pies? Steak and kidney pies, yes.

Will that be lots, sir? Two topless moulds? Two topless moulds. Two towel

No, two toilet rolls. Two toilet rolls.

What else have we got, sir? That's that. Is that a... That's a bot of raspberry

gym. Oh.

Will that be a small bot or a large bot? Well, it is for the wife. Oh, it'll be

a large bot. Definitely.

A bot of raspberry gym. There we are, sir. What else have we got? A tin of

sliced parrots.

There we are. A pond of self -raising flood. Oh, yes.

A self -raising flood.

A large bedroom, yeah.

Half a new member, yes.

And finally, a bunch of ruderies. There we are, sir.

That'll be the lot, sir. Yes, if you like. Do you have cash on delivery?

Certainly. There's my address.

Oh, thank you, sir. That's where we'll send them, then, sir. Mr and Mrs Spith,

number 220 Foop, Thigh Street, opposite the Puffs office.

Further, that is completely untrue.

I'm not really Joan Collins at all. Be honest, though, I had many of you fooled

there for a moment, didn't I?

That is because in my job I am specially trained in the art of telling lies.

No, madam, it's not another party political broadcast.

So what is it I do? Well, what I'm about to tell you tonight is, of course,

incredibly secret.

Ever so secret. So you must listen very carefully, then when I've said it,

memorize it completely.

And then forget it.

And then eat the television set.

In the secret organisation I work for, all identities, for security purposes,

have to be kept strictly confidential.

For instance, I haven't the faintest idea who I am, nor do I know what my job

is. When I drive myself home from work, I have to wear a blindfold so I don't

find out where I live.

Even in the bedroom at night, my wife and I have to observe strict security

precautions.

First of all, we switch out the light, then I get undressed and approach the

bed, and my wife will challenge me with the words, who goes there?

I then reply with a secret password, which is a cockeyed, cack -handed

from Connecticut collecting coffee -coloured cream cracker crumbs in a

crack cocoa cup.

If I get that wrong, I have to sleep on the landing with a cat.

A short, white, Caucasian cat called Corky with a chronic cough and crook.

And if I get that wrong, the cat puts me out all night.

Now, this all -pervading secrecy over names could, of course, be very harmful

the normal smooth running of whatever it is we do in our department. So, in

order that we have something to call each other, we simply stick pins at

into a phone book.

And my name is Slumberland Quilts.

But that's just a cover.

When I joined the highly secret organisation to which I now belong, I

of all, to sign the Official Secrets Act. This means that I agreed to be

by the articles, which is much worse than being bound by the hands and feet.

Now, official secrets. I'm sorry to say that in Britain today, we have very few

of these left.

So if you've got any secrets you don't need anymore, please send them straight

away to me at this address.

Which, of course, must remain a secret. Now, one of the most interesting things

about my job is the equipment some of us have to use. Here, for instance, is a

bottle of invisible ink.

Oh, dear, it's empty.

Now, what about ballpoints? Well, we never award them.

What is the best way to bug a telephone?

Well, ring it and run away. That really bugs me.

And, of course, there are also devices for countering bugs. In Britain today,

have now developed a foolproof system for jamming virtually any telephone call

anywhere in the country. It's known as the GPO.

And, of course, for sports fans, there is always this.

A Bristol supporter.

For female agents... This innocuous -looking bra is, in fact, cleverly

constructed to conceal a tape recorder. Very simple to operate.

To record, you press this side here.

To rewind, you press this side here.

And, of course, for play, you just take it off altogether.

Now, this scrambling device... Works in much the same way as the one you put on

a phone when you don't want anyone listening to understand what you're

Except with this one, you can use it when you're actually speaking to someone

face -to -face. All you do is insert it up your nostril like this, you see?

Then you can go on here until your tents can talk so nobody can understand a

word of standing or what -ing.

And if you had a dong lay at work, you can trub out your wiffles to the poor

without having to leak over any warrior seats on the fourth floor.

Works perfectly. Now, cover.

Now, I know several men who are undersecretaries at the Home Office, and

vice versa, come to think of it.

Always a good cover, that. Now, disguise, too, is important.

A colleague of mine, Sir Catford Public Library, is an absolute withered in the

art of disguise. In fact, I'd like to introduce him to you now.

There he is.

Uncanny. He's wonderful at impersonating fruit. You should see it, Banana.

There you have it in a nutshell.

Oh, that's something else he can do, of course.

Now, whatever you do, don't breathe a word of what I said tonight to anyone,

will you? Like I said last night when the boss asked me what I made of his new

secretary, mum's the word.

Good night.

You know old Cyril Harris with the one eye?

Yeah. You don't see much of him lately.

No. Well, he don't see much of us either.

Where did you see him, then?

I saw him at the pictures.

He went up to go to the box office. He said, with the one eye, I should think

you let me in for a half price.

He wasn't having it.

Oh, did he have to pay full price, then? He had to pay double. Double?

Why was that, then?

She reckoned with one eye, it'd take him twice as long to see the picture.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is our people.

I saw you in the shadows, acting so free.

I knew the last thing on your mind was me.

I could hear the laughter from that moment after.

You had my pride down on its knees.

Who did you not belong to?

Now that I'm gone, does she call you baby all night

long?

Who does your night belong to?

Who's the one you turn to?

Are you dancing to our favorite?

Down the way, it's down in my heart to break it.

to get me back I'll be left with

feelings that will go unsatisfied my need for you is very

much alive

get by

is 2012.

Dear old England, land of heroes, is being ruled with a rod of iron by a new

regime. The country is now being run entirely by women.

They govern. They are the breadwinners. They wear the trousers.

Men, completely subjugated, are now the housewives, forced to wear dresses and

given feminine names.

But some of the worms are about to turn, among them these two men, Janet and

Betty.

wanted by the dreaded secret police for crimes against the state, our heroes

break into headquarters to steal their own identity papers, hoping to cover

their tracks. But as they meet the next day during their routine daily shopping

trip, they know that never again will their lives be quite the same.

Here's the sugar.

How are you getting on?

Fine. All I need now is coffee and powdered milk.

Powdered milk for the country?

We can't just leave a note outside for the milk girl, can we? I mean, no one

must know we're there.

How long will it take to get there?

Oh, about a couple of hours. Oh, fine.

I'll put all this lot in the car. I'll shave off from the start.

Hello, Cynthia.

How's Arthur? He hasn't baby yet?

Yes. A boy.

Oh, good.

What are you going to call him?

Marigold.

I'll pick you up in an hour, and before you can say Jill Robinson, we'll be

tucked away in your little country hideout just the two of us.

No, three of us.

What? Who?

Herbert, my pet mouse.

What? Oh, yes, I take him everywhere with me. I've got him with me now.

Where? In my bag. He's in a little tobacco tin. Look, here he is.

Oh, well, if he must, he must.

But you have to realise, Janet, old chap, we're going to be very tight on

Oh, he doesn't eat a lot of food, just a little bit of cheese. He, damn, he

likes this.

Oh, how long has that been, buddy here?

Won't it be all mouldy? He likes it mouldy. Oh, I suppose so.

That's your car down there.

Oh, what car is that, my dear?

The one in the lane.

Oh, what lane is that, my dear?

The lane at the back of the house.

Oh, what house is that, my dear?

This house.

Oh, this house. Oh, that lane.

Oh, what car is that, my dear?

Have you got a car?

No, no, never had a car, no. We've never had a car in our lives, no. Well, we

have one.

It was a little mini.

But we had to get rid of it because he couldn't get in it. He's so tall, you

see. He's so very, very tall.

Doesn't he say much?

No. He's deaf and dumb, aren't you? Yes.

Well, he's deaf, isn't he?

He heard you.

Oh, yeah, lip read, you see, lip read.

Pardon? You lip read.

I'm looking for a short man.

Yes, I prefer one myself.

Keep your eyes and ears open, both of you.

Do you understand?

It's about a quarter past five.

Where did you get all this stuff?

The pantomime cautions from the grammar club. They asked me to look after them a

couple of years ago. Still here.

Lucky for us, they are.

I mean, what were the ones we were wearing?

The two yokels.

Sarah and Henry.

What, in Jill and the Beanstalk?

No, there were two extra characters we put in to sing the song. You can drive a

horse to water, but a pencil must be led.

Not as bad as the principal boy singing, I did it her way.

Still, these things definitely got us out of trouble.

They'll be back.

You think so? Oh, I'm sure of it. I can't be standing on a box all the time.

that's true. This place has got an outside toilet. Yes.

You can't be there without your box.

Exactly. I'd be caught short.

Where? In my hindquarters.

Don't be silly, I'm your hindquarters.

I wish I had my catapult.

Some booze eyes to be scored over there.

balls at the moment, old chap. I'm in a tricky position back here.

If there's a bull in this field, he might charge us.

Well, I hope not. I haven't got any money with me.

One, two, left, right, left, right, left.

That milkmaid turning up was a nasty moment.

She must have been pretty short -sighted to be taken in by this lot.

I'd love to have seen her face when she groped round my udders and I handed her

this little flap in the back.

That's what attracted the bull.

That's when I decided we ought to make a rum for it.

I mean, I would have been all right. I could have just stood there eating the

grass.

You would have borne the brunt of it.

Well, now, they're off the scent for a while, but they're still in the village.

We've somehow got to get right away from the area.

We need a vehicle with four wheels rather than four legs. Yes. Not only

need a vehicle with a couple of good safe places to hide in.

Is this the end for our two heroes, Betty and Janet?

Is it possible the police pigs will see through the pig's will?

Or is it a load of hogwash?

Don't miss next week's enchanting episode of The Worm That Turned.

A creme de mes?

Yeah, yeah.

It's not like you, creme de mes. I know, but we are now in the European

communique, eh, we said, eh?

I mean, we've got to start acting and thinking like our cousins across the

water, a la Incontinent.

Right,

pint of creme de mes, says he. A pint?

You always have a pint, don't you? I know, but you can't drink a pint when

you're in the abroad, it's laters.

A liter of creme de mes? No.

Just a creme de... a mess. Ignore him, Charlie. I mean, you don't sit on the

sidewalk cafes, do you?

Stuffing pints down your neck.

I'll be on the floor by the time I'm left here.

You always are on the floor by the time you leave here.

Right, there you are.

That's it.

Cheers.

I know, but you can't go on a seven -day lightning charabang tour of 26 Italian

cities and stop in some of them without it changing you, can you?

But I thought you didn't enjoy yourself.

I mean, you sent me that card saying, having a rotten time, wish you was here,

didn't you?

Yeah, yeah. The first day, you see, I got Spanish tubby.

What, in Italy?

Yeah, and a charabang and all.

Then the second day, me and, uh, me and, uh... a thingy, what's her name?

Ede. Ede, the wife, yeah.

We was sitting on this beach, you know, minding our own business, absolutely

behaving ourselves, just chucking bottle tops at the Germans.

And suddenly this Italian, this bronzed, hairy Italian, ran past completely in

the nuddy, streaking he was.

Oh dear.

Ede had a stroke, did she? No, she couldn't reach from where she was.

Then, of course, on the third day, we gave that the elbow. We started doing

various beauty spots or what have you, you know. Oh, yeah.

Did you go to Mount Edna? No, none of that went on because of... Creeping

Creeping about.

Creeping about. I don't mean creeping about.

I mean Mount Edna. They've all... Not creeping about.

Mount Edna, the volcanic... What's her name? Oh, no. We didn't have time to go

and see no volcanoes.

No, we was too busy sightseeing, yeah.

Now, that there, that is Ede standing in front of the famous Colosseum in Rome.

That's a hemorrhoid I took on.

Oh, it looks a bit rough. It doesn't have to look a bit rough. Oh, yeah,

she'd been on the booze the night before.

No, I mean the building, the building.

Oh, yeah.

Looks like a split -level bomb site.

Is that your hotel room? No, no. That is the famous Colosseum in Rome, isn't it?

It's better to look all right when you finish it.

I don't go in for this travelling abroad much, this kind of... I mean, I reckon,

really, if God had meant it to be in other parts of the world, it's all

foreigners, you know.

Well,

I mean, there's, you know, travelling in warmer climes and all that. I mean, Lil

and I did it a bit once. We, you know, you know, my sister Rosie.

Yeah. You know.

Yeah. But Rosie married old young Ted Knox. Oh, I know, I know. Yeah, she has

broken nose and tattoos.

Yeah, that's her.

We had a holiday with her once, you know, Villa.

And I remember one night we were just at this bar having a drink outside, you

know. Yeah.

And a little quiet drink, you know.

Well, Lil was making a bit of a noise, you know.

A little bit of slurping, you know. Yeah, yeah.

Nothing offensive.

And we were, well, a little bit offensive, actually.

We were all standing... Well, bloody offensive.

We're standing there, and this fellow only waltzes by and pinches her what's

-her -name.

Well, a backside, you mean?

No, a purse.

Well, where was this then? L .A.

Los Angeles? No, Little Hampton.

I would hardly say that a week spent in your sister's villa in Littlehampton is

a yardstick by which to measure the rest of the world, boy, is it? I mean, see,

in my opinion, I reckon that the world is shrinking all the time, don't you?

Well, funny you say that. Yeah. Because I was reading the paper and article

about the upper atmosphere of the air cooling.

Cooling who?

Not cooling, cooling.

Cooling. Oh, yeah. Cooling, not calling. You know yourself.

In the winter, everything shrinks, doesn't it?

In the cold, everything gets shorter.

Oh, yeah. I mean, you know that. You know that yourself.

You know, your what's -her -name gets shorter in the winter.

Your average day gets shorter in the winter.

Yeah, I know that, yeah.

I mean, it's shrinking because of all this travel, you see. I mean, all this

setting and shareabank setting and all that, you know.

I mean, for instance, I'll give you a for instance. We went up the mountains

while we was out there, see, and on top of them mountains, there's nothing but

sheep farms.

And one of these sheep farmers actually offered to buy a heed off me. No.

He offered me six goats for her.

Well, what a waster name that is.

Ede, woman you plighted your trough to.

Woman who vowed to walk with you through the shallow charade we call luck. Then

again, a goat could come in handy.

Even asked to have a look at her teeth, you know.

So I said, fair enough, I went for a walk.

Left Ede with him.

No, I took her with me. Left her teeth with him.

Up there, you see, livestock, up on them mountains, livestock is their currency,

you see, and they are so uncivilised that they actually think they can buy

sell human beings.

Or in this case, Eid.

Barbaric, isn't it? Yeah, that's the word for it.

Barbaric. Well, I must get off you.

Here, I'll tell you what. I'll tell you what. You could give me a hand if you

like. Yes?

What do you want me to do? Well, I thought while I was writing a letter to

you could be out the back feeding the goats, could you?

It was very interesting watching the serial earlier on. You know, man's

against the iron fist of a monstrous tyranny, battling against a regime of

relentless soul -crushing repression.

It's rather like working at the BBC.

For anyone who doubts it, I have managed to obtain here one of the

BBC's top -secret personal files on yours truly.

It's frightening, isn't it, really?

How many MPs, I wonder, would sleep soundly in the House of Commons if they

knew that the BBC keeps a highly personal file on every one of its

from the lowest T -boy right down to the producer of the show?

All the files are locked away in the bowels of Television Centre, just next

to the place where they keep the studio audiences.

They have to be locked up for their own good.

Now, this document is, of course, highly confidential and top secret.

And only the chairman of the BBC himself must ever be allowed to read what is in

this file.

Name. Name.

Ronald Goliath Corbett.

My parents were nothing if not optimists.

Ron Goliath Corbett.

Staff number one, five, six, three and a half.

Six.

Satisfactory progress.

I'm reading the wrong bit there, surely.

No, I'm not.

How dare they. Anyway, occupation, it says, sits in a chair and tells long

rambling stories.

Nobody knows why.

Physical peculiarities.

They've missed one out, surely.

Oh, no, no, there it is. Yes, it's a drawing in the margin.

Ha, ha.

Goes over the other side as well. I must remember to block up the keyhole of my

dressing room in future.

General comments.

This man was funny once.

The occasion was the 4th of June, 1972, when an audience laughed at one of his

stories. He was later fined for failing to report an accident.

These days, Constance resorts to cheap jokes about deprived childhood in order

to gain audience sympathy.

My father did have 17 children and was very short of cash.

He was pretty short of breath, too.

As a little toddler, I always had to sleep in the same bed with my 16

We used to lie there and play snap and I always lost.

So it is not true to say that I keep doing cheap jokes about my childhood.

Anyway, there we are.

Conclusions. This man's act should carry a government health warning.

Director General's comments, if printable.

Nothing is more enjoyable to me than watching Ronnie Corbett telling a joke

Saturday night.

So in future I'm going to watch nothing.

I particularly dislike him.

I particularly dislike him because he is such an inquisitive, little, nosy

parker. Well, that's a downright lie. Not nosy at all.

In that case, why are you reading this confidential top secret?

I think it's quite enough.

On to tonight's story, which, I'll be honest, is something of a desperate

choice. It pains me to admit that I actually got this joke out of Bernard

Manning's dustbin.

Rather a risky thing to do, because he was still wearing it.

It concerns this little boy who has an absolute mania for eating toffee. All

long, all he eats is toffee. Sticks of toffee, slabs of toffee, nothing but

toffee. And his mother is at her wits' end of how to stop him. Now,

she's recently managed to wean her other son off lollipops, telling him that

they make your hair fall out.

And now she's got while watching Kojak. So she thinks maybe this approach... She

thinks... She thinks...

Maybe this approach will work again. So she proceeds to warn the little boy, she

said, that eating toffee, she said, makes you fat.

She said, if you go on eating all this toffee, you'll grow up to be big and

gross and overweight and nobody will love you.

You can see why Bernard Manning threw this one away, can't you?

So the weeks go by and all the time the boy's mother is drumming into him,

eating toffee makes you fat. If you don't stop eating toffee, you'll grow

enormous. Well, a month or so later, they're both sitting on the bus,

opposite them is this young lady of a rather pretty...

You know it, don't you?

Of a rather fragrant nature, you see. Now, she's clearly quite close to the

happy day, and the little boy notices this.

And he naturally keeps looking at her, you see.

Incidentally, at this stage, it would be very easy to mix this story up with the

other one, you know, about the young schoolmistress who keeps staying at the

gentleman at the other end of the bus.

When he passes her to get off, she said, I'm dreadfully sorry, I thought you

were the father of one of my children.

But it is not that.

Just as well it's not that. But this is not that one. So the little boy can't

take his eyes off this expectant young lady, you see. And he starts winking at

her. He goes, like that.

Like that.

All through, winking away like that. Very heavy winking. All through the

journey, he keeps winking, you see. And eventually, the lady gets rather

distressed. She said, I beg your pardon, sonny, but do you know me? And the

little boy says, no, but I know what you've been doing.

Oh, what a twist when we all got most off.

There's Mr.

Holden. His tone is gold.

His bells are whopper.

Made of copper Goes white with anger When he drops a clangor

On Friday night At the Temperance Hall He

was a band Of the Rodgerinners He built a champion tie He was a band Of the

Rodgerinners All back pulling a drive Wearing the chains With the bobs and

triples Up on the clarion call

We add troubles when we're down to doubles. Thursday night,

we join the local philharmonic.

Hovering, quite teutonic. They play Wagner, they play Crockney.

After that, we're off to do a song of sonic. With a little gin and

tonic.

I play Messiah.

I play Wheat Fire.

She likes Elijah.

And I'll oblige her.

And I'll oblige her.

Sing -a -ling,

sing -a -ling, we fells on the brain. And we can't sleep awake for the tinkly

refrain. Then we get a rat -a -tat on the old windowpane. It's a local knocker

up a building high.

Half asleep in a heap in your bed and your sock. Nearly eight, don't be late,

rat -a -tat, Billy Knott. Guess he'll get to thick here for his next Christmas

party. Billy Hardwick.

Though he was a bandy chap, his little handicap, it didn't stop his larks. With

the lasses in the parks, he was so passionate, he couldn't ration it. They

called him Willie, Willie, Billy Hardwick.

Now he had a happy life, not so his little wife. She took it very bad and

very, very mad.

She grabbed the carving knife, cut off his social life. Silly Billy.

Oh, wait. Knockers up, knockers up, when you're out on the spree. Knockers up,

knockers up, and a maiden you see lying flat on her back. Knockers up, let her

be. That's the moral of the tale of Billy.

We play far from Rundale on civic occasions.

We're going to Oldham on Saturday night.

We ring for the mayors and their big corporations.

We're going to Oldham on Saturday night.

is known as Big Beth's Fair. The front of her dress there is bolding and tight.

We'll have a right gala in Beth's secret bar because we're going to

hold them on Saturday night.

Sam and Higginbottom Fred.

Higginbottom Jim, who is slightly dumb, and he's up the spout.

Higginbottom Ed, with a big bracelet, and Obadiah Dutton, who's a little

kev. Winterbottom Dan, he's a cold stern man, and they're all clapped out.

There's poor old Eli getting in a Twitter, for he's had a lot of bitter

Friday night, and he lifts his bell, his brow begins to wrinkle when he has a

little tinkle in his bite. All right.

So we're in London, we're in the house, and we do the hokey -cokey and we shake

them all about. There's a note or two, doesn't quite ring through, and we say,

Bye, Ed.

Is it Arthur Twist with his limp right wrist? He's a real damp high -camp

campanologist. He's a small old boy, she can suck my... Now it will ring his

neck.

Alderman Tootle, living in Bootle, got three things with gruff and skill,

management class and plenty of brass, and a lot in trouble up a hill.

Now he's defunct, his widow has flown. A statue of him, gaunt and grim.

And what he did to all the people.

Corporation's pittance to on him.

He was a friend of the rock star ringer. He was a friend of the rock star

ringer. He was a friend of the rock star ringer. He was a friend of the rock

star ringer. He was a friend of the rock star ringer. He was a friend of the

rock star ringer.

He was a friend of the rock star ringer. He was a friend of the rock

star ringer.

well that

appears

to be all we have time for tonight but before we go a few items of late news

bionic man was released from hospital tonight after falling into the Thames.

Doctors told him to spend a few days at home rustling.

Trainee skin divers Bob and Betty Bletchley set a new record today after

their instructor if it was possible to have sex in six feet of water and being

told to fathom it out for themselves.

And it was good news today for the edge -bastard man jailed for five years for

stealing records.

He's being re -released on Friday.

And a happy outcome for Rear Admiral Sir Percy Hodgkinson after he fell into a

vat of fresh whipped cream this morning in Portsmouth. He was piped aboard his

ship this afternoon.

Finally, we have heard that Arnold Plunger, Britain's oldest plumber, was

finally called to meet his maker. He said he'd be round in about three weeks.

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

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