Original subtitles

Good evening. It's delightful 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 world's

greatest basketball team, which recently changed to a high -fibre diet and is

now known as the Harlem Bogtrotters.

Then I'll be talking to a very public -spirited man who plans to leave his

kidneys to St Thomas', his liver to Guy's and his chips to McDonald's.

But first, the news. Interviewed on The World at One today, Mrs. Thatcher said

that if we all pulled together, nothing was impossible.

Although she admitted she'd never tried cancelling a Reader's Digest

subscription.

The Astronomer Royal announced today that the 21st of June will no longer be

longest day of the year. In future, the longest day will be the day of the

Eurovision Song Contest.

There was a red alert at Wormwood Scrubs this morning when it was realised that

26 prisoners had put their names down for picnic lunches.

Turville Dinge, the celebrated budgerigar impressionist, died today.

A few friends attended a private ceremony at which he was flushed down

lavatory.

Sir Wilson Burton.

Famous zoo vet and specialist in diseases of the elephant's tail was also

today. But as soon as they dig him out again, he'll be getting on with his

But now, now a sketch featuring Mr. Ronnie Barker as a nudist who can't add

and has to count on his friends.

Yes, well, of course, I don't know what...

and both amuse on their cricket bats, I suppose. Things have all changed since

my young day, but I was advocated the use of linseed oil. Good heavens!

Is he still around?

I beg your pardon?

Lindsay Doyle.

Lindsay Doyle, is he still around? My dear friend of mine, I haven't seen him

ages. How is he? No, I'm awfully sorry, you're misunderstanding.

I was just talking about the use of linseed oil on cricket bats.

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

Would you carry on? Yes, of course. No,

I think our pitch, of course, isn't ideal, but I determine.

Come hell or high water. Good heavens, do you know her?

Camilla Highwater.

Camilla Highwater. Excuse me, will you forgive me?

I'm addressing my remarks.

Oh, hello, Myra.

Miss Mark somehow seems sort of quite formal, doesn't it? Myra, if you don't

mind. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Forgive me.

Carry on your conversation. Annie Moore you'd like to meet? Oh, yes, Annie.

Hello, Annie. How are you?

Lovely to meet you. Look, is there nothing I say that doesn't remind you of

someone you know?

Well, I'm sorry. I didn't... No, it's all right.

Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes, this is, um... This is Sangria, isn't it?

an awfully intoxicating drink, you know, Sangria.

Mind you, I'm the sort of character that gets giddy on shandy.

Giddy on shandy?

I have to be very careful, pick my words very carefully, because I can see more

coming. See more coming.

Anyone seen the new show at the Opera House?

The Barbara Seville?

At the risk of being called a philistine, I would say that it's fully

of its bad reviews.

What was I saying? Oh, yes, the pitch, yes, the pitch. I actually caught a

playing soccer on it the other day. I did, yes. Well, of course, I was forced

Audrey Moffat. Audrey Moffat? Oh, I'm sorry, you're becoming a perfect

albatross. Oh, how nice of you, albatross. How very nice of you. He was

sweetie albatross.

If there was anybody in the whole wide world I'd care to be compared to, it's

he. You see, it's all to no avail.

No avail?

Did he mention me then?

He's my woman.

No avail.

You can call me Noah, if you like.

Noah. It's much more friendly. You know, considering how many people and friends

we have in common, I think we ought to get together one evening. What about

tomorrow night?

Tomorrow night? Oh, yes, I know her very well. Strange she should have a Russian

first name, isn't it? Tomorrow night, considering she comes from Stepney.

Look, Friday, dinner, my place.

You know, I'm rather good in the kitchen. I always feel a meal you cook

yourself. Yes, Amelia Cook, that's who I'm having dinner with.

You can't be. She died last week. Surely not. Surely not. She was at the

funeral.

She'll tell you. Look, Shirley Nott is, I mean, is the one I'm coming to dinner

with, yes. Shirley Nott is. I've known her for years, ever since I used to spot

her at the Buxton. Used to spot her at the Buxton? Good heavens, don't they

her to him?

Goodness me, she's the man she's going to marry. Oh, rather him than me. Good

heavens. I mean, she's a tart.

Oh, I mean, until recently, she was the red light district's lowest turner. Oh,

I think that's rather fair on lowest turner.

This turn is rather nice. I always think I'm rather well -groomed. I always feel

her hair's very Natalie Dunn. Well, simply because Natalie Dunn's a very

hairdresser. The problem with Natalie Dunn is she can't do anything without

consulting a horoscope.

Horoscope?

Horoscope? That twit.

Don't tell me she moves in his moronic orbit. Ronic orbit? Who's ronic orbit?

Come on, I've had enough.

Are we going to stand here and let them bore us rigid?

Let's go and see that guy standing over there.

Who's Guy Standing?

Well, who's Boris Richard?

Name droppers.

Tonight, a song that was a big hit in 1983 for Howard Jones, who also composed

it. The title is What Is Love? And the singer, of course, Barbara Dixon.

Sometimes I find you got my love for you, but I don't mind.

Why should I mind? Why should I mind?

What is love anyway?

Does anybody love anybody anyway?

What is love anyway?

Does anybody love anybody anyway?

Take some aspirins. No, I can't take aspirins. They give me headache.

I see in the paper where it says that 50 ,000 germs can live on a pound coin for

a year.

Oh, yeah? Does that include VAT?

Don't know.

I should have asked that businessman I tried to tap the other day.

Mean basket he was.

Wouldn't spare me a pound for a cup of coffee.

I'm a heavy tipper.

Anyhow, them Americans ain't got a lot of money to waste, I have.

Look at all that money they wasted putting a man on the moon.

They're going to put a man in the sun next.

I'll do that.

It'd be burnt to a cinder.

No, they've thought of that.

Oh, yeah?

How are they going to get round that?

They're sending him at night.

Evening.

What'll it be?

I'll have a bottle of beer and a large scotch for him, thank you very much.

Very mild, actually. Very mild, Art. Very mild indeed. A bit quiet in here

tonight, aren't you? Yeah, well, it's always ever so quiet on a Tuesday.

Oh, yeah.

Oh,

gracious. Has he finished it already?

She's back with another one now.

Yeah, well, all right.

I don't mind a quiet pub myself, funnily enough, you know.

Rather than all these elbows and everything pushing in your back

get a drink a week and a half an hour to be served and all that kind of thing,

eh?

He's done it again.

What's that?

Oh, dear. He is throwing them back tonight, isn't he?

He's throwing them back? He's throwing them away.

What? Because they're going over his shoulder.

Oh, they're not, aren't they? Oh, dear, I didn't notice that. Glad you drew that

to my attention.

Just wait a minute, a second. It's just a...

Yeah,

that's it.

That's it, you see.

That's it. His gyro's a bit out of kilter, you know.

Hang on a minute.

What do you mean, all about? What do you mean? Oh, that business with your

friend's chef.

Oh, he's not my friend. He's a droid.

He's a robot.

He's by all... you see.

Yes.

Well, his legs are made of 4x2, his chest an old budgie cage, his arms

are made of a carno and his head is out of a Burton's window.

That's incredible. I never would have known.

Are you one too?

No, that's his name. Are you one too?

He's a very nice, very nice, helpful self.

Does all the washing up and does all the dusting and all that.

Even does the vacuum cleaning.

He doesn't even need a hoover.

What does he use then?

Sooner not say.

Didn't half give the vicar a shock when he popped round.

Oh, he's not interested. Not interested in that sort of thing at all.

He looks at a woman rather like you would look at a washing machine, you

what I mean? He's not programmed for it.

He had a mild romance, I must tell you this. He did have a mild romance once

with a petrol pump, but it didn't last.

So, nothing turns him on, then? Oh, yes, a little switch at the side. You see,

basically, he's got no brain. He's a lump of machinery, basically, you see.

brain, really, you know. He cares for no one or nothing.

Oh, dear. Gone back to work.

What? What does he do?

He's a traffic warden.

Come witness, ladies and gentlemen, the greatest show on earth.

It's full of frolics and fantasy and monstrous magical birth.

There's chimpanzees performing fleas, striptease on a high trapeze. And a

whop dies from the top into a camembert cheese.

There's mathematical elephants and boxing kangaroos. The girls are covered

rain, smiles and tinsel and tattoos.

The Zulu dwarf is six foot tall. The human military cannonball went through

roof of the Albert Hall. And now he's nothing to lose.

The girls adore the clowns on stilts. We had to stop them wearing kilts because

they're endowed with such a wondrous sense of merriment.

At Barnum & Bailey Circus, we have gold dust on the floor.

At Barnum & Bailey Circus, we dispense the best manure.

The flying nun got shot from a gun, was last seen over Wimbledon. The vision

through his telescope excited Patrick Moore.

There's jelly neals performing seals and dancing bears.

Water down the clown's pajamas.

And if you get a little wet at times, who cares?

As long as it was not the llamas. Miss Bendy Toy is such a joy. Our

corkscrew queen, better known as Tutan Muriel. She really strains to

get her knickers in a twist.

It's time she got some new material.

And then there's Sadie, lovely, rude, very tattooed lady.

Samson, strong as a bull, started to fool Sadie.

Had a private view, showed her something new, and he loved her edging, too.

The Flying Singletons. display their playing physique.

Fred for 62 is quite sprightly. And young Fiona only married Fred

last week, performing for the crowd twice nightly.

Oh, Mr.

Barnum, people repeat, you are a cheat, darn.

I plan to be a...

Oh, sorry, I've only brought a pint.

What is the difference between a pint and a leaker? That's what I say. What's

the difference?

Hey, they've got an extermination here at the pub tonight.

What do you mean, an extermination? Well, they stay open for an hour after

shut.

I'm off down to Ping and Whistle tonight.

Oh, I've never been down there. How far is that? Oh, it's about four miles.

But if you hurry, you can do it in two.

What's that there you've been reading?

It's a letter from my girlfriend, that is. Oh, really?

Yeah.

Well, there's no writing on it. No, we're not speaking.

My girlfriend's working down the museum at the moment. Oh, I are? Yeah.

Do you know they've got a dinosaur there that is two million... years and three

months old.

How do you work that out, then?

Well, it was two million years old when she started there, and she's only been

there three months.

Have they still got those two little skellingtons by the door there in that

museum? Which one's that? Well, the big one's Nelson.

Oh, what's the little one?

It's Nelson when he was a little boy.

Oh, dear, this beer's horrible. I'll be glad when I've had enough.

Milk was the cause of my brother's death.

How? A cow pheromone.

Now, my other brother, for example, he died. He was killed, really, by women

drink. Was he?

Yeah. Couldn't get either, so he shot himself.

Here, what's the time?

I don't know. I haven't got a watch.

Oh, I have.

Why do you ask me the time if you've got a watch? I don't want to wear it out.

Has you got a written guarantee for that? No, I ain't, no. But the man in

shop said, if anything at all goes wrong with it, do not hesitate to phone me up

and I'll tell you what time it is.

Something gone wrong with my budgie this week?

Your budgie? What's gone wrong with he?

He drowned it.

Oh, dear. I told you not to keep me in that goldfish bowl.

You should keep me in a cage like everyone else.

Well, I did, but the water kept running out.

My dog's dying, do you know?

Oh, dear, sorry to hear that. When did he die?

Well, if he'd lived till tomorrow, he'd have been dead a fortnight.

Yeah.

I've had that dog since the week before he was born.

How can you have a dog a week before he's born? He's born a week early.

just had a baby. Oh?

Boy or girl?

Oh, she's a girl.

Boys can't have babies.

What do you mean? It's a baby, a boy or a girl? Oh, I don't know.

Oh, so you don't know whether you're a hunkle or a heart then, do you?

What are you buying him for a christening present then?

A pram. Oh, yeah. I'm buying this pram on the new herd purchase scheme.

What's that?

100 % down and nothing to eat.

Oh, that's terrible.

Did you live?

Oh, yeah, I'm all right, yeah. Yeah. You should see me now.

Do you know something?

I've got 200 more bones in my body than you have.

Who is that?

I had a kipper for me breakfast.

You know, we've drunk ten pints.

Yeah. Shall we have one down the swan? No, I can't wait. I'm going to have one

behind the bushes.

When you're a traveling man and haven't got a wife, there's got to be a lot of

different women in your life. Different temperament, different size.

The shape of them zoomers and the color of their eyes. Girl number one, never

one better. Her name was Loretta. How could I forget her?

She was a big girl, strong girl, built like a miner. A big girl, heavy girl,

liked to wrestle bears.

Big girl, clumsy girl, broke a lot of china.

Broke a lot of fellas' hearts and squashed a lot of chairs.

Sat in a jury once and suffocated them.

Rule number two.

My, oh, my.

Seven foot high. Reach for the sky.

She was a tall girl, thin girl, full length fiery.

Tall girl, skinny girl, legs like kings.

Tall girl, knobbly girl, willowy and wiry. Good for growing beans up for

clearing out the grave.

Slipped down a grating outside the post office. Never saw her again.

Girl number three. Was that four?

I used to keep score.

Not anymore.

She was a small girl, tiny girl, red little dolly, ding -a -little fairy with

bust of 42.

Name was Arabella, but I used to call her Polly because she chatted like a

parrot, so we left her in the zoo.

She had such a big bust, she used to overbalance even when she was lying

Girls without number, living and loving, laughing and scratching, pushing and

shoving.

Big girls, small girls, tall ones and midgets.

Redheads, deadheads, fatheads and freaks.

Jeans, Jones, Junes, James, Betty, Lose and Bridges. Country girls and town

girls, brown girls and greets. And one and all cause chaos and confusion.

Love them and leave them is the only course.

I learned one thing and come to one conclusion. That a man's best friend is

voice.

Thank you. Tonight I'd like, if I may, to tell you a brand new cricketing joke,

which has never been heard before.

Actually, when I say it's never been heard before, that's not entirely true.

Let's be honest.

This joke is so old it was found buried with the Dead Sea Scrolls, as was the

comedian who just told it.

It actually dates back to 256 B .C.

which, as scholars of ancient Egypt will know, was the year of the famous

wildcat strike by the amalgamated union of eunuchs and allied

sopranos in a dispute over severance pay.

Incidentally, since the last show, I'd like to thank all those of you who have

written in with suggestions about what I can do with my act.

I have the one or two of you who sent diagrams.

Offers of work have been flooding in. Last week I was invited to go on a round

-the -world cruise by the chairman of the Flat Earth Society.

This week I was asked to do a very important after -dinner speech.

I said, do you want me to be funny? They said, no, just be yourself.

It was actually, to be honest, it was actually rather a swish -do being held

commemorate. 50 years of the BBC canteen.

And it was very, very moving.

Some... You're making jokes up there.

No, it was rather moving. I mean, some of the original sausage rolls were

Brought a lump to many throats.

And it... Actually, it took me back to my own early career in the catering

trade.

when I was a little boy and a dumb waiter.

As I say, it was a very formal occasion.

It was a very, very formal occasion, but somebody for a joke had told me it was

fancy dress.

So there we all are, the Director General, the Chairman of the BBC, the

Governors, you know, all standing around in their smart suits and dinner

jackets, and I'm trying to act casual, dressed as Bo Peep.

With my glass of sherry in one hand and my crook in the other.

I remember thinking it was actually the first fancy dress party I'd been to

since May the 10th, 1975.

Now, I remember that day clearly, because it was the one day when there

sale at Allied Carpets.

On that occasion, that fancy dress party, I put on tin legs from a suit of

armour and went as a pair of nutcrackers.

Out. Come on.

To be honest, to be honest, it was the usual low -budget affair, this dinner,

hosted by a repeat of Terry Wogan.

It was four hours.

It was four hours before the BBC cheese board arrived.

They held a meeting and decided we couldn't have any cheese.

I seem to have wandered off the point. I was going to tell you this joke about a

small country cricket team that is in the doldrums.

Now, don't ask me which part of the doldrums.

I think it was the northern part. Anyway, I spent a couple of weeks myself

last summer in the northern doldrums. And it was a bit of a mistake in the

go, actually. We were staying at a friend's cottage.

And the heating system was a bit temperamental.

When we got there, it was snowing in the airing cupboard.

The rising damp was so bad, the mice were punting around and mousetraps.

The doctor had told me to take a break, because he said I'd been overworking.

And I suppose I have been taking on rather a lot recently, to be honest.

I have been very, very active in our local pressure group, Short Comedians

Against Bo Derek.

It beats personal stereo any day now.

To be honest, I don't put a lot of trust in my doctor's judgment these days. My

wife asked him if he'd got something for a creaky hip joint.

And he gave her two tickets for Ronnie Scott's.

But I digress.

I digress. Back to the joke.

About this local cricket team. Now, they are one Sunday afternoon going through

a bit of a rough patch in this game. And the chairman decides, the chairman of

the club, decides after the match he'll put an advert in the local paper.

Bats person wanted.

See, bats person wanted.

Ability to hit the ball, an advantage.

Apply, apply, blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., etc.

Well, a month goes by, and there's no response of any kind, and the chairman

thinks, I wonder if I should put in our name and address in.

instead of the blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., etc.

Well, it can make a difference. And just as he's thinking this, there's a knock

on his office door, and in walks a horse.

And the horse casually pulls up a chair, sits down, lights a cigarette,

and says, I understand you're looking for some new players.

A bit posh, actually.

I wonder if I might... I wonder if I put my services at your disposal.

The chairman says to her, but you're a horse.

And the horse said, I know.

Because she's not stupid, this horse.

He said, but I am rather nifty with the old willow, he says.

And the least you can do is give me a trial, old bean.

So they go down to the nets, and sure enough, the horse plays some strokes,

know, very good strokes, making him both of them look like a flyswatter. And the

chairman is so impressed, he signs him up. And the following weekend, the horse

is put in as the opening bat. How she strides the creature, in his shin pads,

his gloves, you know, and his horse box.

And in the very first over...

It smashes every delivery clean out of the stadium.

Six after six after six.

And the club's regular supporters are astounded.

And so are you, by the sound of it.

And both have to be treated for shock.

Then... Then... Then comes the second over, and the first ball, the other

batsman, at the other end, plays a fluke hook shot and starts racing up the

pitch to snatch the quick single, you see. But to his astonishment, the horse

doesn't move, just stands there, motionless.

The batsman shouts, what are you doing? What are you doing? He said, run, run,

for God's sake, run.

And the horse says, run?

Do me a favour, he said. If I could run, I'd be at bloody Epsom.

Edgar, where are you? Hurry up.

Coming, my prophet.

Have a lovely weekend in the country, sir.

Oh, Alice, what do they know about life in the country?

They either shoot it or mate with it.

Sometimes both.

Edgar, will you come along?

Now, Brighton, is the chauffeur all ready?

I believe he is at the front end, milady.

Did you clean my gumballs?

In wine, milady.

Excellent.

Oh, dear. I forgot to say goodbye to Fifi. I took the liberty, madam.

Goodbye,

my darling Fifi.

Oh, Brighton.

You are the perfect butler.

It's always those little extra touches one looks forward to.

Quite, milady.

Sit there, Edgar.

Enjoy the country.

It's beautiful.

No, it's not.

It's green, and what isn't green is brown and in piles.

Horrible, Mrs. Lyles.

I'll press them for you, sir.

Don't tell me, Wrighton, my big end's blown.

I didn't hear a thing.

Chauffeur tells me that the motor car has been tampered with, sir. Someone has

loosened a rear grunion.

We shall be late for lunch.

Fortunately, madam, the Duchess's residence is but a few short miles

country. If you would care to walk?

Walk? With feet, you mean?

That's a good idea.

Come on, Edgar. I want to stretch my legs.

Ah.

Well, I suppose I might stretch my legs, too.

If I do it often enough.

they might reach the ground.

Come along.

In springtime, in springtime... Oh, hi.

Come on, Edgar.

Now what?

What's happened?

One of those dreadful butterflies came straight at me.

Ran away and tipped over the, um...

What do you call that green stuff?

Grass.

Damn little stuff.

I've broken several ankles.

You don't have to wait here, I'm afraid, till some help arrives.

Certainly.

Lovely.

Look at the time.

We shall be late for drinks before lunch.

With liberty, madam.

I call it my woodland cocktail.

Oh, right.

A jigger of stinkwort, a dash of marjoram, a finger of dandelion wine,

shaken in a hollow tree trunk and served in a water lily.

How exquisite.

And you made it yourself as you came along?

I made the wine behind that tree, madam.

Have all very well, isn't it?

Well, they're left on time, Your Grace.

Well, her ladyship will be perfectly all right if we've got Brighton with her.

Answer, Edgar. Yes, I forgot.

I think Brighton did it terribly well.

To me, it looks rustic, frankly. You're so pathetic.

You couldn't make table and chairs.

It looks as though he did it with his penknife.

If you would care to peruse the menu.

I recommend the snails in wild garlic with fresh rosemary.

I suppose it'd be too much to hope for some frog's legs.

Well, it's a little early in the season, I'm afraid, so I did attempt tadpole's

legs, but I haven't got my reading glasses.

Then to continue, there is cuckoo omelette, a pigeon stuffed with

one very large truffle stuffed with pigeons, a wild honeycomb with oak apple

jelly, and with your coffee, Some after -eight cat mints. Oh, right.

How do you do it? I have a Swiss army knife, madam.

I, uh... I don't much like the weathercock.

No, it is a little muggy, isn't it?

No, I mean that thing.

And if you think... I think for one moment I am spending the night in this

erection. Oh, no, no, no, no, sir, no. That is merely the butler's pantry, sir.

I've built the big house over here.

Where are the necessary officers?

Over there, sir.

Gents on the left, ladies on the right.

Butlers? Round the back.

I think I'm going to pay a visit.

Oh, my ankle's still hurting. Would you do it for me, Brighton?

Certainly, sir.

I believe I hear her ladyship ringing from the lake, sir.

Crocodile!

Crocodile! What was that, Brighton? I believe her ladyship said crocodile,

crocodile, sir. Rubble barrel.

I don't think we know the crocodile, crocodile, sir.

No, I think she was referring to the reptile of that name, sir. Whilst

the times, I did notice that one had escaped from Wincanton Zoo.

Your permission, sir.

I'm looking forward to a quiet tea by the lake.

I fancy the crocodile may be starting without us.

If you will excuse me, sir.

You screamed, milady.

it's the best I could manage in the time, my lady.

Belgravia 130, Alice speaking.

No, I'm sorry. Sir Edgar and Lady Gwendolyn are still not found.

The search is continuing.

If we can but pray that they're getting warm.

Roasted nuts.

sir? No, no, they're all right.

You're caught, sir. Ah, well, I'm fine too, Brighton. Yes, I'm sorry, sir. It

took so long treading the conkers.

A very important storm, I suppose.

So where's the ladyship?

I believe she said she was retiring early, sir.

Well, isn't that rather drafty?

Asking you.

I was asking Brighton.

He ran up this nighty for me.

I think you'd better run down it again.

He made it for me.

From Gotham and Dandelion down.

He's a man.

Sounds a bit of a pansy to me.

Pansy? You haven't got a teaspoon of red blood in your veins.

Brighton is everything you're not.

Strong.

Handsome, brave, gallant.

Good night, Edgar.

Brighton, I shall be waiting.

Come soon.

There'll be votes for women next.

Well, you think you're good at everything? She'll want to make love 14

Will that be all, sir?

Probably not. Fifteen times at weekends, I'd say.

I'm sorry if I appear twisted. It's just that I... I feel a bit of a gooseberry.

The best bit, if I may say so, sir.

I'll say kind of you, Brighton. Thank you.

Sit down, old man.

Thank you, sir.

I hope I can still come to you for a reference, sir.

Are you leaving, Brighton?

Well, after this little fling with her ladyship, I think I may be forced to

a new position.

Believe me, Brighton, you'll have a glowing testimonial. There you go.

In the meantime, sir, is there anything I can get you before I retire?

No, that will be all, Brighton. In that case, sir, I shall take the liberty of

taking a liberty.

life in ruins, with chitterings dragged through the mud. You can stay with us.

We shall need a butler.

I could show you the road, sir.

Yes.

Now, I'm man enough to know what to do. I'm going off to the woods now, right?

And I may be gone sometime.

It worked.

It worked.

Well, that brings us to the end of the show.

But before we go, there's just time for a few late items of news.

The explosion which rocked Malvolio Terrace, Swindon, earlier today, has

blamed on a faulty old boiler.

She'd forgotten to turn the gas on.

Good news from California, where superglue victim Chuck Bradder was freed

his bath tonight after spending four days in freezing cold water.

He'll be seeing his shrink for the next fortnight.

A task force.

Task force from our furry friend league broke into Oliver Reed's bedroom and

liberated his tongue.

Finally, news that five Indian doctors in Birmingham have formed themselves

a new group practice. They'll be known as the Bengal Lancets.

In next week's programme, I'll be talking to the Irishman who's the

prolific inventor, Mr Pat Pending.

And I'll be having a word with the taxi driver who picked up a party of fins at

Heathrow. They didn't know whether the place they wanted to go to was called

Bletchley or Sketchley, so he took them to the cleaners.

And it's goodnight from me. And it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.

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