All language subtitles for Sanet.st.monty.pythons.flying.circus.s01e02.1080p.BluRay.h264-13

[PANTING]

[FOOTSTEPS]

[HEAVY DOOR SLAMS]

[PANTING CONTINUES]

[METAL OBJECTS CLATTERING]

[PIG SQUEALS]

It's--

NARRATOR:
Monty Python's Flying Circus.

[♪♪♪]

[SHEEP BLEATING]

Ah, good afternoon.

Afternoon.

Ah, lovely day, isn't it?
Arr. It is that.

Are you here on holiday or...?

No, no, I live here.
Oh, hah, jolly good.

[SHEEP BLEATING]

I-- I say, uh, those--

Those are sheep, aren't they?
Arr.

Yes, yes, of course, I thought so.
Heh-heh.

Only why are they
up in the trees?

A fair question, and one that in
recent weeks has been much on my mind.

It's my considered opinion
that they're nesting.

Nesting?

What? Like birds?
Arr.

Exactly. Birds is the key
to the whole problem.

It's my belief that these sheep
are Labouring

under the misapprehension
that they're birds.

Observe their behaviour.

Take for a start,
the sheep's tendency

to hop about the field
on their back legs.

[LOUDER SHEEP BLEATING]

Now witness their attempts
to fly from tree to tree.

Notice they do not so much fly
as plummet.

[THUDS]

Observe, for example,
that ewe in that oak tree.

She is clearly trying to teach
her lamb to fly.

[SHEEP BLEATS]

[THUDS]

Talk about the blind
leading the blind.

But-- But why
do they think they're birds?

Another fair question.

One thing is for sure, a sheep
is not a creature of the air.

It has enormous difficulty in the
comparatively simple act of perching.

[THUDS]

As you see.

As for flight, its body
is totally unadapted

to the problems of aviation.

Trouble is, sheep are very dim,

and once they get an idea into
their heads, there's no shifting it.

But where did they get
the idea from?

From Harold. He's that sheep
over there under the elm.

He's that most dangerous
of animals, a clever sheep.

He's the ringleader.
He's realized that a sheep's life

consists of standing around for a
few months and then being eaten.

And that's a depressing prospect
for an ambitious sheep.

He's patently hit on the idea
of escape.

Well, why don't you
just get rid of Harold?

Because of the enormous commercial
possibilities should he succeed.

NARRATOR: And what exactly are the
commercial possibilities of avine aviation?

[SPEAKING IN BROKEN FRENCH]

[SPEAKING IN BROKEN FRENCH]

[BOTH BLEATING]

We get a lot of French people
around here.

Yes.
Oh, yes. All over. Yes.

INTERVIEWER: And how do you get
on with these French people?

Oh, very well.
So do I.

Me too.
So does Mrs. Ape.

Yes. Yes.

Oh, yes, I like them.
I mean, they think well, don't they?

I mean, be fair, Pascal.
Mm.

Blaise Pascal.
Jean-Paul Sartre.

Oh, yes, Voltaire.
Oh.

René Descartes.

Mm, mm.

Mm!

[AIR HISSES]

And now for something
completely different.

A man with three buttocks.

Good evening. I have with me
Mr. Arthur Frampton, who has...

Mr. Frampton, I understand that--
That you, as it were, have...

Uh, well, let me put it another way.
I believe that whereas most people

have, uh, two...

Two. Uh, you...

You.
I'm sorry?

Uh, yes. Yes, I see.
Um, are you quite comfortable?

Yes, fine, thank you.

Um, Mr. Frampton,

vis-a-vis your rump.

I beg your pardon?
Uh, your rump.

What?
Uh, your, uh, posterior.

Derrière

Sit-upon.
What's that?

Buttocks.
Oh, me bum.

Shh!

Well, Mr. Frampton, I understand that
you have a, uh, 50 percent bonus

in the--
In the region of, uh, what you said.

I've got three cheeks.
Yes. Yes. Splendid, splendid.

Well, we were wondering,
Mr. Frampton,

if you could, uh,
see your way clear--

Yeah, what's that camera doing?
Uh, nothing" Nothing at all.

We were wondering if you could see
your way clear to giving us a quick...

A quick visual...

Mr. Frampton,
will you take your trousers down?

What? Get off! I'm not taking
me trousers off on television.

Who do you think I am?
Please take them down.

No. No.
Just a little bit.

Now, uh, ahem.
Now, look here, Mr. Frampton.

It's perfectly easy for somebody
just to come along here to the BBC,

um, simply claiming that they have
a bit to spare in the botty department.

The point is, Mr. Frampton,
our viewers need proof.

I've been on Persian Radio. Get off!

Arthur Figgis knows
I've got three buttocks.

How?
We go cycling together.

Strewth!

And now for something
completely different.

A man with three buttocks.

Good evening. I have with me
Mr. Arthur Frampton, who...

Mr. Frampton, I understand that you,
as it were, have, uh...

Well, um, let me put it another way.
I believe that whereas most people...

Didn't we do this just now?
Well, yes.

Well, why didn't you say so?
I thought it was a continental version.

And now for something
completely the same.

A man with three buttocks.

[RINGS]

Hello?

Oh, did we?

And now for something
completely different.

A man with three noses.

MAN:
He's not here yet!

Two noses?

[BLOWING NOSE]

[IMITATES BLOWING NOSE]

Ladies and gentlemen,
wasn't she just great, eh?

Wasn't she just great?
Ha-ha-ha.

And she can run
as fast as she can sing. Ha-ha-ha.

And I'm telling you because I know.
Ha-ha-ha.

No, only kidding. Ha-ha-ha.

[STOPS LAUGHING]

Yeah.

Seriously now, ladies and
gentlemen, we have for you

one of the most unique acts
in the world today.

He's-- Well, I'll say no more,
just let you see for yourselves.

Ladies and gentlemen,
my very great privilege to introduce

Arthur Ewing
and his musical mice!

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I have in this box 23 white mice.

Mice which have been painstakingly
trained over the past few years

to squeak at a selected pitch.

Eh, this is E-sharp and--
And this one is G.

Uh, you get the general idea.

Now, these mice are so arranged
upon this rack

that when played
in the correct order,

they will squeak
"The Bells of St. Mary."

Ladies and gentlemen,
I give you on the mouse organ,

"The Bells of St. Mary."
Thank you.

[HUMMING
"THE BELLS OF ST. MARY"]

[THUMPING, MICE SQUEAKING]

MAN 1:
Oh, my God! Oh, stop him!

MAN 2: No!
MAN 1: Stop him!

MAN 1 [SOBBING]:
Stop him!

MAN 1: Stop him!
MAN 2: No!

Next.

[CLEARS THROAT]

[TAPPING SOFTLY]

[TAPS LOUDLY]

Are you the marriage
guidance counsellor?

Yes. Good morning.
ARTHUR: Morning, sir.

And good morning to you, madam.

Name?
Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Pewtey. Pewtey.

And what is the name
of your ravishing wife?

Wait. Don't tell me.

It's something to do with moonlight.
It goes with her eyes.

It's soft and gentle,
warm and yielding.

Deeply lyrical and yet tender
and frightened like a tiny white rabbit.

It's Deirdre.

Deirdre. What a beautiful name.
ARTHUR: Heh.

What a beautiful, beautiful name.

And what seems to be the trouble
with your marriage, Mr. Pewtey?

Well, it all started
about five years ago

when we started going on holiday
to Brighton together.

Deirdre, that's my wife, has always
been a very good companion to me,

and I never particularly anticipated
any marital strife.

Indeed the very idea of consulting
a professional marital adviser

has always been of the greatest
repugnance to me.

Although far be it from me to impugn the
nature of your trade or profession.

Do go on.

Well, as I said,
we've always been good friends,

sharing interests,
the gardening and so on,

the model airplanes, the sixpenny
bottle for the holiday money.

And indeed, twice in a month, settling
down in the evenings to do the accounts.

Something which, uh, Deirdre--
Deirdre, that's my wife.

--Uh, particularly looked forward to
on account of her feet.

I should probably have said
at the outset

that I'm noted for having
something of a sense of humour,

although I've kept myself pretty much to myself over
the last two years, notwithstanding as it were.

And it's only as comparatively
recently as recently

that I have begun
to realize, well, uh...

Perhaps "realize"
is not the correct word.

Uh, imagine.

Imagine that I was not
the only thing in her life.

You suspected your wife?

Well, yes. Yes.

At first, frankly, yes.

Her behaviour did seem
at the time, to me,

who was after all there to see,
to be a little odd.

Odd?
Yes. I mean--

I mean, uh,
to a certain extent, yes.

I'm not by nature a suspicious
person, far from it.

In fact, I have something
of a reputation

as an after-dinner speaker,
if you take my meaning.

Yes, I certainly do. Yeah.

Anyway, in the area where I'm known,
people in fact know me extremely well.

Right.

Would you hold this? Thank you.
Yes.

Anyway, as I said, I decided
to face up to the facts,

stop beating about the bush,

or I'd never look myself in the
bathroom mirror again. Anyway, so--

Would you mind running along
for 10 minutes?

No. No.
Make it half an hour.

Right-o. Fine.

Yes. I'll wait outside, shall I?

Yes, well, that's perhaps
the best thing. Yes.

Certainly put my mind at rest
on-- On one or two points there.

[DOOR CLOSES]

[IN AMERICAN ACCENT]
Now, wait there, stranger.

A man can run and run
for year after year

until he realizes that
what he's running from is hisself.

Gosh.

Now, a man's gotta do
what a man's gotta do,

and there ain't no sense
in running.

Now, you gotta turn,
and you gotta fight,

and you gotta hold
your head up high.

Yes.

Now, you go back in there,
my son, and be a man.

Walk tall.

Yes.

Oh, I will.

I will.

I've been pushed around
long enough.

This is it.

This is your moment,
Arthur Pewtey.

This is it, Arthur Pewtey.

At last, you're a man.

[DEIRDRE GIGGLES]

All right, Deirdre, come out of there!

COUNSELLOR: Go away.
Right, right.

DEIRDREI
Oh! Oh! Oh!

[DEIRDRE GIGGLES]

NARRATOR: These historic
pictures of Queen Victoria,

taken in 1880 at Osborne,

show the Queen with Gladstone.

This unique film provides a rare
glimpse into the private world

of a woman who ruled
half the earth.

The commentary, recorded on
the earliest wax cylinders,

is spoken by Alfred, Lord Tennyson,
the poet laureate.

[♪♪♪]

MAN [IN AMERICAN ACCENT]: Well,
hello, it's the wacky queen again.

And who's the other fella?
It's Willie Gladstone.

And when these two way-out
wacky characters get together,

there's fun aplenty.

And uh-oh, there's a hosepipe.

This means trouble for somebody.
Uh-oh.

Charlie Gardener's
fallen for that old trick.

Queeny's put him
in a heap of trouble.

Uh-oh. That's one in the eye for Willie.

Here, you have a go.

Well, doggone it,
where's that water?

Uh-oh. There it is, all over his face.

Well, hello, what's Britain's
wacky queen up to now?

Well, she's certainly not sitting
on the fence. She's painting it.

Surely nothing can go wrong here.
Uh-oh.

Here's the PM
coming back for more.

And he certainly gets it.

Well, that's one way
to get the housework done.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

[GRUNTS]

[CLEARS THROAT]

Oh, Dad, look who's come to see us,
it's our Ken.

[SPITS]

Aye, and about bloody time
if you ask me.

Aren't you pleased to see me, Father?

Yes, of course he's pleased
to see you, Ken.

All right, woman, all right.
I've got a tongue in me head.

I'll do the talking.

Aye.

I like your fancy suit. Is that what
they're wearing up in Yorkshire now?

It's just an ordinary suit, Father.
FATHER: Ha.

It's all I've got
apart from the overalls.

How are you liking it
down the mine, Ken?

Oh, it's not too bad, Mum.

We're using some new
tungsten carbide drills

for the preliminary coal-face
scouring operations.

Ooh, that sounds nice, dear.

Tungsten carbide drills?

What in the bloody hell
is tungsten carbide drills?

It's something they use
in coal mining, Father.

"It's something they use
in coal mining, Father."

You're bloody fancy talk
since you left London.

Not that again.
He's-- He's had a hard day, dear.

His new play opens
at National Theatre tomorrow.

Oh, that's good.

Good? Good?
What do you know about it?

What do you know about getting up
at 5:00 in the morning to fly to Paris,

back at the Old Vic
for drinks at 12,

sweating the day through press
interviews, television interviews,

then getting back here at 10
to wrestle with the problem

of a homosexual
nymphomaniac drug addict

involved in the ritual murder
of a well-known Scottish footballer?

That's a full working day, lad,
and don't you forget it!

Oh, don't shout at the boy, Father.
Aye.

Hampstead wasn't
good enough for you, was it?

You had to go poncing off
to Barnsley.

You and your coal-mining friends.

[FATHER SPITS]

Coal mining is a wonderful thing,
Father,

but it's something you'll never
understand. Just look at you!

Oh, Ken, be careful. You know
what he's like after a few novels.

What? Come on, lad. Come on.

Out with it.
What's wrong with me?

You tit!
I'll tell you what's wrong with you.

Your head's addled
with novels and poems,

[CHUCKLES]

You come home every evening
reeling of Château Latour.

Don't. Don't.
And look what you've done to Mother.

She's worn out with meeting
film stars, attending premieres,

and giving gala luncheons.
There's naught wrong

with gala luncheons, lad!

I've had more gala luncheons
than you've had hot dinners.

[SOBBING]
Oh, please, please.

[SCREAMING]

Oh, no!
What is it?

Oh, it's his writer's cramp.

You never told me about this.

No, we didn't like to, Kenny.

I'm all right. I'm all right, woman.
Just get him out of here.

Oh, Ken, you'd better go.

All right. I'm going.
After all we've done for him.

One day you'll realize
there's more to life than culture.

There's dirt, and smoke,

and good honest sweat!
Get out! Get out, you labourer!

Hey, you know, Mother,
I think there's a play there.

Get agent on the phone.
Aye, I think you're right, Frank.

[TAPPING ON WOOD]

It could express--
It could express

a vital theme of our age.
Aye.

Oh, shut up! Shut up!

Well, that's better. Now for
something completely different.

A man with three buttocks.

MOTHER AND FATHER:
We've done that!

Oh, all right! All right!

A man with nine legs.

MAN: He ran away.
Oh, bloody hell.

Uh...

A Scotsman on a horse.

[♪♪♪]

[HORSE NEIGHS]

[IMITATES BLOWING NOSE]

MAN:
Harold! Come back, Harold!

Harold! Come back, Harold!

Oh, blast!
MAN 2: Sir.

[♪♪♪]

Good evening, and welcome
once again to The Epilogue.

On the program this evening
we have Monsignor Edward Gay,

visiting pastoral emissary
of the Somerset Theological College

and author of a number of books
about belief,

the most recent of which
is the bestseller My God.

Good evening.

And opposite him,
we have Dr. Tom Jack,

humanist, broadcaster, lecturer,
and author of the book Hello Sailor.

Good evening.
Tonight--

Tonight, instead of
discussing the existence

or non-existence of God,
they have decided to fight for it.

The existence or non-existence

to be determined by two falls,
two submissions or a knockout.

All right, boys, let's get to it.

Your master of ceremonies
for this evening, Mr. Arthur Waring.

WARING: Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen,

and welcome to a three-round
contest of The Epilogue.

Introducing on my right
in the blue corner,

appearing for Jehovah,

the ever-popular
Monsignor Eddie Gay.

[CROWD JEERS]

And on my left in the red corner,

author of the books The Problems
of Kierkegaard and Hello Sailor,

and visiting professor
of Modern Theological Philosophy

at the University of East Anglia,
from Wigan, Dr. Tom Jack.

[CROWD CHEERING]

[SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

HOST: Now, Dr. Jack's got
the flying mare there.

A flying mare there.
What's he doing?

And this is gonna be a full
body slam. A full body slam.

And he's going in to pin--
No, he's-- He's standing back.

Well, uh, though we are--

Though we are leaving
The Epilogue for the moment,

we'll be bringing you the result of this
discussion later on in the program.

[GUNSHOT]

MAN: Oh!
My God!

[GROANS]

[GRUNTS]

[HUMMING]

Oh.

Oh, isn't he an impressive figure
of a man?

People of the country, I want to talk
about defacement of public property.

Anyway, this sort of thing
has got to be stopped.

Ebbing the destruction. Defacement
has got to be put to an end.

[PEOPLE RUNNING]

This country is not standing for
vandals and hooligans running about.

[SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

[SAWING woon]

WOMAN:
Oh, yes, that's much better.

[CACKLING]

Oh, isn't he a lovely little-?

[CHOMPING]

Oh, isn't he a lovely little-?

[CHOMPING]

[BURPS]

[WHEELS SQUEAKING]

Oh, isn't he a lovely little-?

MAN [IN VOICEOVER]: Wait a minute, buckaroos.

This has gone far enough.

[CHOMPING LOUDLY]

Oh, no! Take it away from me!
Take it away!

Oh, no! Get it away! Get it away!

[DRUM ROLL]

[♪♪♪]

[WHISTLING]

[CHATTERING]

[♪♪♪]

Yes. The mouse problem.
This week, The World Around Us

looks at the growing social
phenomenon of mice and men.

What makes a man
want to be a mouse?

Well, uh, it's not a question
of wanting to be a mouse,

it just sort of happens to you.

Uh...

All of a sudden you realize

that's what you want to be.

And when did you first notice these,
shall we say, tendencies?

Well, I was about 17 and some
mates and me went to a party.

And, uh...

Well, we had quite a lot to drink
and then some of the fellows there

started handing cheese around, uh...

Well, just out of curiosity
I tried a bit and...

Well, that was that.
And what else did these fellows do?

Well, uh, some of them started...

...dressing up as mice a bit, um...

And then when they
got the costumes on,

they started squeaking.

And was that all?
That was all.

And what was
your reaction to this?

Well, I was shocked.
Yes.

But, uh, gradually I came to feel

that I was more at ease
with other mice.

A typical case,
whom we shall refer to as Mr. A.

Although his real name is this:

[ANNOUNCER READING]

What is it that attracts someone
like Mr. A to this way of life?

I have with me
a consultant psychiatrist.

Well, we've just heard
a typical case history.

I myself have over 700 similar
histories, all fully documented.

Would you care to choose one?

Mr. Arthur Aldridge of Leamington.

Well, that's amazing. Amazing.
Thank you.

Thank you, Janet. Ahem.

[♪♪♪]

Kargol, speaking as a psychiatrist
as opposed to a conjuror,

Oh.

What makes certain men
want to be mice?

Well, we psychiatrists have found
that over 8 percent of the population

will always be mice.

I mean, after all, there's something
of the mouse in all of us.

I mean, how many of us
could honestly say

that at one time or another he hasn't
felt sexually attracted to mice?

I know I have.

I mean, most normal adolescents

go through a stage of squeaking
two or three times a day.

Most youngsters
on the other hand--

Some youngsters, are attracted
to it by its very illegality.

It's like murder. Make a thing illegal,
and it acquires a mystique.

Look at arson. I mean,
how many of us could honestly say

that at one time or another
he hasn't set fire

to some great public building?
I know I have.

[RINGS]

The only way-- The only way to bring
the crime figures down

is to reduce the number of offences.
Get it out in the open.

I know I have.
Mm.

The Amazing Kargol and Janet.

What a lot of people don't realize
is that a mouse, once accepted,

can fulfill a very
useful role in society.

Indeed, there are examples
throughout history of famous men

now known to have been mice.

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

[SQUEAKS]

And of course, Hilaire Belloc.

But what is the--
What is the attitude--

--of the man in the street towards--

"this growing social problem?

Clamp down on them.
INTERVIEWER: How?

I'd strangle them.

Well, speaking as a member
of the stock exchange,

I would suck their brains out
with a straw,

uh, sell the widows and orphans,
and go into South American zinc.

Yeah, I'd, uh, stuff sparrows
down their throats

uh, until the beaks stuck out
through the, uh, stomach walls.

Well, I'm a chartered accountant,

and consequently
too boring to be of interest.

I feel that these poor,
unfortunate people should be free

to live the lives
of their own choice.

I'd, uh, split their nostrils open
with a boat hook, uh, I think.

Oh, well, I mean, uh,
they can't help it, can they?

But, uh, I mean, there's nothing
you can do about it,

so, uh, I'd kill them.

Clearly, the British public's view
is a hostile one. Hostile.

But perhaps this is because so little
is generally known of these mice men.

We have some film now taken at one of
the notorious weekend mouse parties

where these disgusting
little perverts meet.

LINKMAN: Mr. A tells us what actually
goes on at these mouse parties.

Well, uh, first of all,

you get shown to your own
private hole in the skirting board.

Uh, then you put the mouse skin on.
Uh...

Then you scurry into
the main room,

and perhaps, uh,
take a run in the wheel.

The remainder of this film
was taken secretly

at one of these mouse parties by
a BBC cameraman posing as a vole.

As usual, we apologize
for the poor quality of the film.

MR. A [IN VOICEOVER]:
Well, uh, then you steal some cheese.

Brie or Camembert, or, uh, Cheddar
or Gouda,

if you're on the harder stuff.

Um, you might go and see
one of the blue-cheese films.

Then there's a big clock
in the middle of the room,

and about 12:50
you climb up it and then,

eventually, it strikes 1
and you all run down.

LINKMAN:
And what's-? What's that?

MR. A: That's the farmer's wife.
LINKMAN: Yes.

Perhaps we need to know
more of these mice men

before we can really judge them.
Perhaps not.

Anyway, our 30 minutes are up.

[SHEEP BLEATING]

[THUDS]

Good night.

[PANTING]

NARRATOR: And here is the
result of The Epilogue:

God exists,
by two falls to a submission.