All language subtitles for The Two Ronnies s08e06.eng

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.

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