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, I shall be having a word with a

who goes in for meditation because he thinks it's better than sitting around

doing nothing.

We'll also be talking to the farmer who crossed a gossip columnist with an apple

and got a golden malicious.

But first, the news.

Tooting Beck Police today held a man in connection with a 13 -amp plug and

blacked out most of South London.

And at Radstock tonight, two amorous stick insects rubbed themselves together

and set light to the local Boy Scouts' house.

Doddsworth Sinclair, the Surrey man accused today of having a photocopy of

year's TV licence instead of the current one, said he thought it would be enough

because he only watched repeats.

Etsy Rawls, the red car man who has faithfully handed his wife his wage

every month for the last 20 years, was divorced today. She found out he was

every week.

And finally, Ephraim Fludge, who has worked in sewers all his life, was today

knighted by the Queen using a 10 -foot barge pole.

And now a sketch in which I play the very important part of Casanova. And I

the rest of him.

come and fix you last week, but nobody comes.

What do you want?

Take him out. Come on, open the till.

He won't open. He's stuck.

I sent for someone last week, but they don't come and mend it. Oh. Yeah.

Yeah, it's automatic.

It's automatic.

If it's a button, nothing happens.

Yeah. They don't make tills like they used to once.

Hold this a sec, will you? Yeah.

Terrible things.

How's this work?

How's it work? Well, you slide the top back, don't you? What do you mean, how

I do it? You slide the top back.

He won't slide back.

Oh, no, I'm getting at the thing, Tom, that's me.

I'm supposed to repair that. You slide the top back and it goes. No, I can't

think of two things at once, don't I? Get this one. There you go.

Oh, excuse me, mate.

Just a minute, just a minute. He's a work, he's a work in.

Here. What are you doing with that gun?

It belongs to him.

Oh, what's he doing then? He's a robber to till.

Who's he? Right, we'll soon see about that.

But OK, I'm going to rob a till. Can't that thing open? No, it's got an open

end. It's stuck. You see, officer, it's stuck.

Oh, well, lucky for you then, isn't it? Because I can't get these open.

Make some coffee for the gentleman. Make some coffee. How do you like your

coffee? Milk, two sugars, please. Oh, sure, I'll have a black with one. Black

with one, please. One.

There.

What do you mean, in no work?

No work, there's no lot to come up with. Oh, they're supposed to come and fix

it, that's weird. What's the matter with you? Okay, I'll fix it. Yeah, well,

here, wait a minute, wait a minute. Here, let me hold him while you fix it

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, I've been looking for that, hey.

Oh, here, here, let me have a hold of that for a minute, will you, mate?

Hey, go away, we're closed. Right, now, everybody, stand back.

Here's your handcuffs, they're here. Oh, yeah, time, mate.

Here's your wrench. Thank you. There's your bag for you now. Thank you.

Well, the coffees are working. You want a cup of coffee now? No, it's a bit

late. I've been wasting my time. Yeah, I've got to get going now and all. Yeah.

Hello. Really, what's your stop? God knows what time it is now. Anyway, here,

can I give you a lift? Yeah, right, just at the top.

Certainly. Good

evening.

I've been asked to talk about money, or what to do if you can't get enough of

it.

But if you can't get enough of it, hard cheese, because I'm going to talk about

money.

Now, what about investments? Well, here is an attractive proposition.

Oh, I'm sorry. That is, in fact, my secretary, Miss Ingrid Underfelt.

She's German on her mother's side, and on her father's side, she's the 11th

Airborne Regiment.

Since Miss Underfeld has popped up, let's take a look at the broad spread of

holdings.

This is her portfolio,

and this, of course, is her starboard folio.

As you see, her commodities are unbalanced. In fact, I made a suggestion

this morning to her. I said, Ingrid, I think you should get out of rubber and

into tin.

She very sensibly replied, whatever turns you on, big boy.

Insurance. Take a look at this.

Now, this is Miss Underfelt's fiancée.

And here he is, two months later, up there.

The fact is, he simply has not got a big endowment.

later policy.

Let me give you a short breakdown.

But let's have a look at the policy itself.

I have a specimen here, and you, of course, will need one as well when you

the office.

Now, here is the small print, and here is the very small print, and, blow me,

here is a scossed earwig down the bottom.

Now, as far as I can see, through this magnifying glass, We pay nothing and ask

no questions until the policy matures at the age of 6 ,229.

And then you get the squashed earring at the bottom. But there are certain

disadvantages. This policy excludes acts of God, like concerts by Cliff Richard.

And it is invalid unless the deceased comes personally to head office to sign

the claim.

Accompanied by his parents. Now, many of you...

Many of you have asked me to say a couple of words about the interest

building societies.

But I'm afraid one of those words we're not allowed to use on television.

Though we can say off.

By the way, the government have asked me to assure you that there is a simple

device for making your take -home pay go further. Here it is.

Look at that.

Nice one, that's a gift, yes.

Now, I have a letter here.

From an Irish woman, Mrs. Doreen Banerjee, who says... Who writes upside

but also says... How are we to start the business of having children on my

husband's pay packet?

Well, that is a tricky question.

I put Miss Underfelt on it.

And we should be sending her the secret of how to do it by registered post.

And that's not as easy as it sounds either.

Finally, people are always writing to me and asking me what the government are

doing about inflation.

And I agree. I know that at the end of the week, Miss Underfeld and I have got

very little to play with.

Here is the new inflated currency.

There it is.

I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of one million pounds.

Well, bang goes school milk in the Isle of Wight.

Well, there you have it. As Mr. McCorver said, annual income, three pounds,

annual expenditure, two pounds, nineteen and six, result, happiness.

Annual income, three pounds, annual expenditure, three billion pounds,

London Transport.

Ladies and gentlemen, Barbara Nix.

You just say the things you want to hear.

And like a fool, I believed everything was clear.

But now I feel so distant, I don't know what to say.

The things I thought important are just...

that Mrs. Parkinson got her divorce.

Her that's got that husband on the stage.

Oh, yeah?

They gave her divorce because he snored.

You can't get a divorce for snoring, can you?

Well, her husband was a ventriloquist, you see, and he used to snore her side

the bed once.

The year is 2012.

England now languishes under a new reign of terror.

A regime guaranteed to strike fear into the hearts of all men.

The country has fallen into the hands of man's primeval enemy, woman.

Women now govern, they are the breadwinners.

Men are completely subjugated. They are forced to do the housework, to wear

frocks. They even have feminine names.

And the dreaded secret police see that these new stringent measures are

enforced.

Our heroes in this tragic tale are two simple, honest, straightforward

Englishmen, Janet and Betty.

Wanted by the secret police for crimes against the state, they were hiding out

in an old cottage.

When the area is surrounded, they have to find another method of breaking

through the roadblock.

Good thing I brought this knife.

Yes, I was just looking at that. How many blades has it got?

27.

I've had it since I was a brownie.

Is that what you open these tins with? Yeah.

The only thing that's broken is the thing that takes the stones out of

hooves. Well, it's not broken, actually. It's bent.

Melanie Harper did that at school. Oh, huh. Sat on it.

Duff Jack Melanie.

Yeah, yeah.

Thick skin.

Wonder what he's doing now. He's an actress.

Oh, yeah. Just played the lead in Hairy Queen of Scots at the National. Oh.

Now then, anything else you'd like to eat, old boy?

Well, what is there? Well, there's some chocolate here, or there's a Paz bar.

Oh, I'll have that. I'll have a Paz bar.

Now then, we really must get organised if we're going to contact my brother -in

-law. Don't you think it's a mite dangerous, old boy? I mean, we're less

miles from my cottage. The police are bound to be spreading out.

If we're going to go to ground, it's our only hope.

Yes. Are you sure this is the pub he works at? What, the Green Woman? Yes,

absolutely positive, yeah. It's a good pub.

Brian and I used to come down and visit him sometimes at weekends. Not that she

ever liked him, really.

Oh, he's not her brother, then?

No, no, he's my sister's husband.

Which sister's that?

My younger sister, Harold.

And what's your brother -in -law's name?

Diana.

Oh.

And he's about to cycle down this road on his way to work? Yes, it's the only

road. You see, the pub's about a quarter of a mile down there.

Right, now then, I've got some drawing pins, I've got some tentax, and I've got

a few large fishhooks for good measure. Come on.

We'd better get Springfield.

How's that?

Yes, that's to do it. A bit drastic, don't you think? Wouldn't it be better

jump out of the bushes and wave at him? No, no, no, he wouldn't stop. He was

once stopped on his way back from getting some groceries by what he

a man. Turned out to be a woman in a dress.

Good Lord.

It was terrible.

Yes, she assaulted him.

Came back with his frock all torn.

Fortunately, she never laid a finger on his groceries.

Who's creeped? Diana?

Betty, good gracious, what are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

You're in a car. What happened to the bike?

I've been fiddling the housekeeping.

What are you doing here? No time to tell you now. Get in quick, Janet.

Look, turn the car around, and I'll tell you as you go, all right? Never mind

about that. Just hurry. Come on.

Betty and Janet lose no time as they travel to tell Diana the whole story.

He, in turn, informs our two heroes that the pub now belongs to him, and like

the true blue old -fashioned chauvinist he is, offers them a job.

And so, the very next night, in this sleepy little village far from the

crowd...

Hey, you're a nice little thing.

What are you doing in your dump like this, then?

Just pin money.

My wife's away in the Navy.

Here, come and sit in my lap.

Oh, I don't think there's room for both of us.

Do you know my little grey home in the West? No.

How about my little brown flat down the road?

No.

What about after the ball?

Oh, I meant after you finish here. Oh, shut up.

Excuse me.

What's your name, my dear?

Beryl, madam.

Married? No, no, no, no, no.

Thought not. I can read men like a book.

Really? What system do you use?

Braille. Oh,

really?

Janet, can you take an order in the other bar? A man in a green dress.

Oh, it's all go round here, isn't it?

Oh, God, that woman's going to start her patriotic songs again now.

Cheers and be sunk out.

Who are big busted girls Who will all burn their bras to be free

Shoulders to shoulders With bosoms like boulders Come swing down the highway

with me Throw out your chess girls Dispense with your best girls We're

to make history Men have always fooled us And they

rule us easily

Morning, Betty.

Pardon?

I say good morning, Betty.

No, no, my name is Beryl.

Beryl Cambridge, ma 'am. No, it's not. It's Betty Chalmers.

We were at school together.

You were captain of the netball team.

Not so loud.

I used to see you when I was on my way back from cricket in your frilly netball

skirt.

I used to think you were the most wonderful creature on earth.

But I was only 13, and you were 17.

I'm sorry, I can't place you.

No, well, a lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then.

Yeah, quite a few gin and tonics as well.

I doubt if I'd get into that netball skirt now.

Still got that twinkle in your eye there.

Look, uh... Jack, you do know there's a big reward offered for your capture, do

you? It's in all the papers.

Don't worry, I'm not going to give you away.

What then?

I want to keep you for myself.

What? I want to hide you.

little house a couple of miles from here, we could renew old

with no one to disturb us.

But I never knew you.

Well, I knew you in my dream.

Dream?

Well, what do you say?

Well, I don't mind if you don't.

Can't wait.

Pour me a gin and tonic, would you?

Yes, yes, of course.

How do you like it?

Seven parts gin, one part tonic.

Slice of lemon.

Well, I want a lemonade. I'll ask for one.

I say, you're wearing pyjamas.

Won't you join me?

What, in your pyjamas?

Well, maybe you could start off in this.

What's that? Oh, I see. That's pretty nice, isn't it? Why don't you try it on?

Take a shower. Hurry back.

Yes, all right.

I'll tell you what.

I'll take a shower and then try it on and hurry back.

Even better.

I say, it's jolly nice of you to hide me like this. Did you think you'd be able

to hide my friend Janet as well? You know, later on. Later on.

Let's have a day or two to ourselves first, shall we?

He'll understand. I mean, you did put that in your note, didn't you?

A day or two, yes.

Well, go on.

You're wasting time.

State police.

I wish to speak to somebody about one of the missing men, Betty Chalmers.

So Jack is up to no good after all.

What will happen to Betty?

Will the police send their special squad to get him?

As he steps from the shower, will he be grabbed by the heavies?

Find out next week in another extraordinary episode of The Worm That

Why?

Well, no, what I mean when I say good evening, I mean it's a nice party.

No, it's not.

Really? Why?

What's wrong with it? Boring people.

Where? Well, there's you for a start.

Well, I haven't had time to be boring yet.

You will be.

Look, you always speak to people like this you don't know. No, no, no.

I'm very glad to hear that.

Only when they're boring.

Look, I think you're the rudest man I've ever met.

No, I'm not rude in the slightest. No, no, I'm just being honest, you see.

People appreciate honesty, especially women.

For instance, now, that painting up there, that was painted by our hostess,

know. Really? Very nice, isn't it? She very charmingly asked me what I thought

of it.

I told her I thought it was a load of second -rate, wishy -washy derivative

tripe. Goodness me, you must have hurt her feelings terribly. No, no, no, she

was delighted.

She gave up painting on the spot.

She'd only done it to please her old man over there.

Oh, Sir Henry Matlin Bullock.

Lion of a man.

Dreary, pathetic old queen.

No, no, no, I told him. I told him. No, he was relieved, actually. He knows he's

dreary. He's always longed to be a queen.

Hello, Spotty. Oh, darling Magnus.

Go on.

It's not a spot on her face. Who mentioned her face?

Ah, there is our charming hostess. What a terrible hairstyle.

Thank you for noticing. Anyway, my husband didn't even know I'd had it

no. Having a good time? No, I'm talking this boring little twit here.

Oh, he's wonderful, isn't he, with his sense of humor. I must say, the

refreshments are excellent. Mine weren't. No, my canopy was revolting.

Oh, I think I must have been off form. No, no, your food's always ghastly.

Yes, that's right.

Never mind.

Matches the drinks, doesn't it?

Hello, rat face.

Well, not even mouse -like.

Well, the Lord made my face. God moves in a mysterious way.

So does your face.

You know, you're looking absolutely marvellous, Magnus. More than I can say

you, Owen.

You're so right.

I'll see you later, will you? Well, if nothing better turns up, probably yes.

Well, my gentle, it certainly works, this honesty, doesn't it? Oh, yes.

Absolutely, yes. I'm going to be very honest with you now.

That is the worst press suit I've ever seen.

I'm wearing this suit in honour of my Uncle Edgar.

He was wearing it when he was run over by a steamroller. No one is badly

pressed. Oh, I'm awfully sorry. No, you're not. No, you're not. I'm all

You've got it right.

You're a heartless little toad. That's what you are.

Oh, hello, Mavis.

I'm going to be honest about her.

She's gorgeous. I've been watching her all night. Yeah, it's a ridiculous get

-up, though, isn't it? It's like an oven -ready guinea pig.

tell her that, aren't you? Yes, probably is. Yes, I know your game. You insult

the birds and they're all over you.

Two can play that game, old matey, I'll tell you that.

I think you look like an oven -ready guinea pig.

What do you do that for?

I'm only being honest.

You ask him what he thinks, he'll tell you. Well?

Well, I do think you're appallingly dressed, but I think you're the most

beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life.

So direct.

What is more, I'd like to take you away from here to my grotty little pad for

some rather average lovemaking.

Well, that's good enough for me. Oh, good.

Hold that, will you? I'm going to press my suit.

I say, I think you look unutterably gorgeous.

Creep.

Rat face.

Here's a very funny joke.

about a man who has lived all his life in Bradford.

It's quite funny so far, isn't it?

By the way, talking about Bradford, I get a lot of letters about that. Talking

about Bradford, this joke is not about the Indian, you know, who always slept

a bed of nails and divorced his wife because she refused to get down to

Brasstack.

No,

I wouldn't tell that one. I wish it had been that one, actually.

It's a damn sight funnier than the one I'm going to tell you. Anyway, the

I'm going to tell this is because I have had a special request.

Now, normally, I don't do a lot of viewers' requests.

Well, let's face it, 90 % of them are physically impossible.

This one happens to be from my wife, and I'm hoping it will cheer her up.

because just lately she's been a little bit under the weather, and to be honest,

I think it's affecting her health in general, and her eyesight in particular.

Well, last Wednesday afternoon, she spent half an hour telling our garden

his tea was ready.

However, I'm sure this story will buck her up, because it's strange, no, it's

strange, but in all the years we've been married, this joke is one of the two

things that have really made her laugh.

about the other one.

Things have actually been a wee bit tense on the domestic front recently. It

started last weekend, as a matter of fact. I just popped round to visit our

local, but unfortunately she was out, so I went down to the pub.

Went to the pub, one of those quaint old rural pubs it is, you know. At one time

when you went in there, it used to be really full of country atmosphere.

Then the landlord put up a sign saying, please wipe your feet.

On this particular evening, they were holding their weekly yard of ale

Everyone in the pub drinks six pints of ale, then dashes out into the yard.

Actually, it's quite interesting.

When I got home, I found there was my wife in tears because the gas stove had

just blown up. It was one of those rather dangerous old Japanese models,

know, with the suicide pilot.

And to be fair, to be fair, she'd been on to me for some time to get her a new

one. You know, she used to drop little hints, like, just a subtle little

reminder, like she'd come back from the Indian takeaway and ram a chicken

vindaloo down the front of my trousers.

In an effort to curry my favour, I suppose.

She claims that I'm just lazy. I suppose I am a bit, really. It's something I

inherited from my mother.

I'll never forget, you know, when I was a little boy on bath nights, my mother,

she couldn't be bothered to rub a towel over my legs. She used to stand me in

the spin dryer.

For seven years, I had to screw my trousers on.

My brothers and sisters kept coming up to me and saying, oh, there's a twist.

It was very embarrassing. However, I'm starting to ramble again. Now, I mustn't

do this. I mustn't ramble tonight because the producer has asked me to be

He wants to get away early, apparently.

Now, don't ask too many questions, but I think it's probably another of his

council meetings. Our producer serves on his local council.

In fact, by all accounts, he did extremely well at the last elections by

managing to hold onto his feet in a gay -lib stronghold.

Now, back to this.

Back to this chap who is still living in Bradford. And understandably, he's

getting a bit fed up with it by now. So he decides to go on a cruise to the West

Indies. Now, actually, this is the same man, you know, as in the other joke,

whose wife kept going to the West Indies. And he's had enough of being

behind all the while. So he's going out to see what it's like for himself. So he

sets off for Plymouth and he boards the ship.

hands in his little ticket, and is led down some creaking old steps from the

ship's hold, where all around, all the passengers are sitting there, chained to

great wooden oars, just row upon row of haggard, perspiring bodies, all heaving

together. You know, a bit like British Rail Ferry, really.

No,

actually, it reminds me of a more rickety old troop ship when I was put on

during the war, to be honest.

What a disgrace.

I remember there was one spot of good news. Owing to the shortage of space,

the soldiers had to share sleeping quarters with the rent.

And the bad news was that they slept in hammocks.

You've never seen a boat rock about so much in all your life.

This chap is sitting there, all chained up behind his door, and the order is

given, and they all start rowing. And right at the end, there's a man with a

huge drum who beats out the relentless rhythm for them to keep time with. You

know, he goes, boom.

boom boom boom boom boom sounds like basil brush at half speed

boom boom let me know if you start getting seasick and he's

terrible in human conditions they row and row until they finally reach the

caribbean a man comes around and does all the chains and the chap staggers to

his feet his clothes in stretch his throat dry

Cracked. He picks up his suitcase and he starts to climb up there. And halfway

up the steps, he turns back to the bloke who'd been sitting next to him all the

while. And he said, just a minute, I've just thought.

Do you think we ought to tip the drummer?

And the bloke said, oh, I don't think so. He said, I didn't bother last year.

Old England can sleep safe and sound in its bed.

The old Tower of London's keeping watch over it.

And it's us keeps an eye on the tower as we stand. With me hat on me head and me

arse in me hand.

We're here on display twice a day round the towers.

Viewed by the multitude of keel -nows and owls And we get a lot of floors and

encores When we stand with me aunt on me head And me aunt in me ass The

day that the Queen came to Old Tower

Hill She brought seven corgis and a mark, Charles and Bill So we paid our

respects to the liege of the land

So did the corgis to the afternoon.

In our tights and our robes we attract quite a few.

There's bold maiden ladies and a sailor or two.

So there's one golden rule if you're much in demand.

Keep your hat on your head.

Henry Tudor, when the monarchy was rude, that's the monarchy's today.

Henry Tudor screwed a notice on the wall. Young ladies all get bogged in bed

bawdy. Henry Hates had kissed me Kate and Wig to Catherine Howard, who they

called his little blooming English rose. And down the tower more, a precious

border got deflowered and he knit another notch upon the bedpost.

Next he calls on Catherine of Aragon, whose cleavage was a paragon, a lusty,

busty, wet, cupid -sized, another bleeding Aragon. But Kate says, not

I've got a headache.

He pressed her hand at every bacchanalia, and she turned him down.

crown, his scepter seemed a failure, but she showed a bit more interest when she

viewed the royal regalia. So he licked another nut upon the... On

the road behind the green, there's a

rather quaint canteen. And it's run by Yeoman Sidney, who's a wee bit

in between.

There's a parrot, grey and lean, with a wit that's quite obscene. And

when Sid appears, it gives three cheers and sings God Save the Queen.

Lots of dungeons down the tower, complete with thumbs, screws, whips and

We rent them all out by the hour to men who check your income

tax. And if they think you're on the pedal, they lock you up

without a light.

It's like an up -to -date edition of the Spanish Inquisition when your ball and

chains get tied.

confess it's tougher because you're really made to suffer watching

every night.

Crossroads, Crossroads, Crossroads, Crossroads, watching Crossroads every

night.

We've always got odds of tourists mucking about, showing them round the

and chucking them out.

Point.

Every famous spot, the traitors' gate, the dungeons, and you know what. Summer

and wintertime, we're hanging about in sunshine, sleet and shower.

And the breezes up the Thames whip around you, those and thems. It's a

life down the bloody tower.

American mumps went jump and horrible acts. And the big ships for weeks, they

are driving us bats.

It makes us yeoman sour.

Cos the ravens, when they're fed, leave a thank you on your head. It's not like

I'm the bloody cow.

But if you're back, you think you'll get it in the end.

That seems to be all we have time for tonight. But before we go, a few late

items of news.

At the Hospital for Tropical Diseases today, laboratory staff came out on

strike, doctors came out in sympathy, and passers -by came out in spots.

And at a special meeting of the Executive Committee of the Extremely Shy

Painfully Self -Conscious Society tonight, the members gave themselves a

no confidence.

Finally, Meriwether Tilsden.

who's a hundred years old next week, said today that he plans to celebrate

occasion by making love.

The Queen is sending him a telegram, and the Duke of Edinburgh is sending him a

diagram.

I would mean to be the Sussex lady who switched on her old hedge cutter this

afternoon and had a lot of trouble calming him down again.

Until then, it's good night from me. And it's good night from him. Good night.

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0