Original subtitles

Good evening.

I was watching the television this evening,

and I thought, "There's nothing like a good laugh."

Take two.

Good evening.

I was watching the television this evening,

and I thought, "There's nothing like a good laugh."

Take three.

I was watching the television this evening,

and I thought, "There's nothing like a good laugh."

Take four.

I was watching the television this evening,

and I thought, "There's nothing like a good laugh."

Oh...

Oh, dear!

Oh, dear!

Oh, dear!

Good evening.

And pim-pom po-po-pom.

Puzzled? Let me explain.

These pim-pom po-po-poms

are the latest therapeutic device to alleviate boredom.

Pim-pom po-po-pom.

People need be never lonely

when they've got a pair of pim-pom po-po-poms to play with.

Recently, a lady writes,

"Sir, my husband died suddenly after being run over by a steamroller,

but I have found great comfort in my pim-pom po-po-poms.

Pim-pom po-po-poms."

Signed "Mrs..."

Married people, too, can sit together by the fire and say "Pim-pom po-po-pom"

to each other all night long.

Real togetherness. Pim-pom po-po-pom.

Let's see what fun can be had

with National Health Service pim-pom po-po-poms in a room full of people.

Pim-pom po-po-pom!

Pim-pom po-po-pom!

Pim-pom po-po-pom!

Just a minute! These pim-pom po-po-poms are mine!

Pim-pom po-po-pom! They fell off while shaving.

- No, these... - Pim-pom po-po-pom!

These pim-pom po-po-poms...

- Yes? - ..are on loan from the British Museum.

Pim-pom po-po-pom!

Are you saying that these are early English pim-pom po-po-poms?

-What?

- You are. - Are you Jewish?

- No, but I can feel a nasty overdraft. - Well, feel those.

Hello, sailor!

- Hello! - Shut up!

Just a minute! I think these unpainted, hairless pim-pom po-po-poms are mine.

- Pim-pom po-po-pom! - Not bad for a first time.

- Well, try it. - Let me try.

Perhaps they belong to England's biggest land mass, Harry Secombe.

Pim-pom po-po-pom! - Stop! o' his are bigger.

Those pim-pom po-po-poms are mine.

Impossible!

- Excuse me. - Hey.

I have reason to believe that... I'm Inspector Scrumption of Scotland Yard,

and these pim-pom po-po-poms are stolen.

I must warn you that any pim-pom po-po-pom you say may be taken down.

Stop! You're all wrong!

It's John Bootham of Fieldwick-something fame!

- No! - These pim-pom po-po-poms are mine.

- I had them in the bath last night. - So that's where they've been!

Pim-pom po-po-pom! Pim-pom...

Just a minute. Who are you? Reveal yourself!

Mother!

Get him, boy!

That seemed to go all right.

Pim-pom po-po... pom!

Pim-pom pom-pom-pom.

Pim-pom po-po-pom.

Pim-pom po-po-pom.

Pim-pom... po-po-pom.

Darling!

The lady on the bed was Beth Owen, who's done that sort of thing before,

only much later in the day and for much less money.

There now follows a partly political broadcast on behalf of the Labour Party.

Help!

And now on behalf of the Conservative Party.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

You've got to stop doing that. You've got to stop that habit.

- I'm ready to go in. - Right.

- Right. OK, it's fine. - Ready?

Yes?

Er... Good morning, madam.

- Good morning. - Morning, madam.

Morning.

I am Her... Er...

I am Herbert Sorackle, a salesman.

Me and my fellow directors would like to know...

...if er you are getting sufficient sympathy and understanding in your life?

- Not much. Why? - Do you mind if we come in, madam?

- No. - Ta.

Supposing you have been out for a hard day's shopping.

Tired out, you get on the tube.

Does anybody... Does anybody get up for you?

No fear. Not these days. You have to drop bleedin' dead.

There's no need for you to drop bleedin' dead, madam.

Me and my company have invented something for ladies

that guarantees to get them a maximum of sympathy and understanding.

What is it, divorce?

No, no, madam.

It is not a divorce. Er, Tom?

Oh, Christ!

Er... This is the er...

the Mark-1 Plastic Inflatable Sympathy Hump.

Say you are on a crowded tube.

- I'm on a crowded tube. - You're on a crowded tube.

You want to sit down, but no-one is getting up for you.

Beforehand, you have taken the precaution of placing this bladder up your back, so.

Now, then. All you have to do is to inflate him.

They are infallible, madam.

They're tried out by 20 of our humpty-back inspectors

on the Morden-Edgware line.

Well, it looks real, but I don't fancy it.

No, of course you do not fancy it, madam. Of course you do not.

This is the Quasimodo model...

...for men and boys.

No, for the lady, we have something more delicate. Tom?

Ow!

Pardon me, madam. Would you open your jacket, please?

Now, then. Once again, just imagine you are on a crowded tube.

Er, you want to get a seat.

Then all you have to do is to inflate this.

Twins?

- Triplets? - There.

It is the infallible false-pregnancy hump, madam.

Now, then, if, on the other hand, you...

- Oh, hello, John. - Dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

- Have you had a bad day? - I had to stand all the way on the tube.

Er... That is the end of that bit.

♪ Water boy

♪ Where is you hiding?

♪ If you... ♪

In a relentless attempt to outpace the Western powers,

Russian agents have invaded the Western entertainment field.

Ivan and his agents are trying to forge ahead of the Allies

in the fields of jokes and comedy sketches.

It is known that English and American comics

have been kidnapped and interrogated.

Will our lads talk? Not likely, Ivan.

Now, look here, capitalist, imperialist comic! Listen here!

We've got here six films of your performance in Grand Theatre Attercliffe.

Here is the film. Look y! Look y!

Look!

- Can I tell you what? - How to stop mad dogs barking in July.

How do you... How do you stop mad dogs barking in July?

- By shooting them in June. - Dear, oh, dear. I don't wish to know that.

Kindly leave this place. Now, ladies and gentlemen...

I say "ping", you say this.

What's got eight wheels and flies?

I don't know. What has got eight wheels and flies?

Two corporation dustcarts.

These corporation dustcarts, are they NATO dustcarts?

Why does King George V wear red, white and blue braces?

I don't know. Why does King George V wear blue, white and red braces?

- To hold up his trousers. - Oh, dear.

What is real rank of King George V?

- King George V. - Take that!

...could be friends, because...

♪ Arm in arm together ♪

Why are they walking arm in arm together?

- Because they happen to be. - Why are they walking arm in arm?

Do you understand?

When they dance together.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

I don't wish to answer that question!

- Why did the chicken cross the road? - Would you kindly stop talking to me?

Who was the lady comrade we saw you with last night?

That was no lady, that was my wife.

Can a lady with a wooden leg change a pound note?

- Yes! - You lie! She cannot!

- Why not? - Cos she's only got half a nicker!

I don't wish to know that. What sort of a chap are you?

Here we see an English comic would sell his country for money.

Heavily disguised, he leaves a secret British joke inside a tree.

It's not long before Russian agents are on the scene, heavily disguised.

Ivan is not having it his own way. Oh, no.

British Secret Service comics are onto it and soon have another traitor in the bag.

No, Ivan. You've got to be smarter than that if you want to twist the lion's tail.

Here we see some of the terrifying weapons being used

in this silent war between the West and Russia.

That wiped the grin off Ivan's face.

And that's a shocking handshake for the Ruskies.

That's one in the eye for Ivan, who's gone black with rage.

And here's where Ivan's really slipped up.

Wake up, Ivan! You're losing!

Morning, sir. Will you tell me what you think of this pim-pom po-po-pom?

Looks like a bloody bomb to me.

Charming!

Pim-pom po-po-pom.

It's female.

It's very erotic.

Because it's all high and nice.

I'm not sure it's heavy enough, is it?

I am medically minded.

Pim-pom po-po-pom.

- Lovely. - Why is it lovely?

It has got the Irish aspect.

What does it remind you of?

Ah. A lot of things.

Le pim-pom po-po-pom.

Le pim. Le pim po-pom.

Le pim-pom po-po-pom.

Le pim-pom pom-pom po-pom-pom.

Po-po-pom.

Le pim po-po-pom.

- 5:15. - Waterloo. Waterloo.

I take the... 5:15 from Waterloo.

- Three points to starboard. - The Duke will be there. He will be there.

And Josephine, she will be there.

I will be there.

Have they been... Have they been round your way lately?

You're watching BBC TV, the station with a complete change of underwear.

This week saw the start

of the South London Unorthodox Amateur Athletics Association Sports Week.

Here we see competitors from the Bromley Operatic Society

in the 100m singing relay.

On your marks.

♪ And did those feet in ancient times

♪ Walk upon England's mountains green?

♪ And was the holy Lamb of God

♪ On England's pleasant pastures seen?

♪ And did the Countenance Divine

♪ Shine forth upon our... ♪

♪ What a mess you're making

♪ The neighbours want to know why I'm always shaking...

♪ Picking on me!

♪ Picking on me Picking on me ♪

Sir William Blurbs, a clear win there by eight bars in the key of E-flat.

Another exciting race was the 400m standing-still race.

Here we are for the start of the 400m standing-still dash.

Inside lane is Grady of Ireland, No.2 Thomas of Harriers,

3 is Harrington of Cambridge and 4 is Cambridge of Harrington.

They're getting ready now, and...

They're off!

It's Harrington up the inside lane.

Grady's pushing him. Cambridge is the backmarker.

Now they're all coming into the last 50m now

and it's still Harrington, Thomas, Cambridge and Grady.

It's neck and neck. They're neck and neck. They're about to come up to the tape.

It looks like Thomas! Now it's Grady!

Grady! Thomas! Now it's Grady!

It's Thomas! It's Grady! Thomas!

No, I think it was Grady, but it's a photo for second and thirdmand fourth.

Here's an early football result. Arsenal three managers, Tottenham two.

Here's the late newsflash.

A millionaire living in Leeds has won the £5,000 premium bond prize.

He said it will make no difference to his way of life.

He will go on working as normal.

Today sees the finale of the annual Grandmother Hurling Contest

at Beachy Head.

The grandmothers and contestants are just warming up for the final throws,

so over to Ivor Porcock.

Hello. It's a great day for the Grandmother Hurling finals here at Beachy Head.

In the last three eliminations, over 100 grandmothers

were successfully thrown out to sea, after which only two returned back

in the penalty time of one and a half minutes.

Let's go over to last year's champion hurler and grandmother.

- Hello. - This is Mr John Skwonk,

and his grandmother Mrs Ethel Skwonk.

- Good morning. - Could you tell us, how old are you?

- 5'3“.

And er... what made you offer yourself for this hurling contest?

Well, I am a widow, my husband died, my cat died,

but er... I didn't.

So my gardener came and did this.

Yes. My word! We come down here in the good weather,

and give her several good hurls off the cliff on the weekend.

We have some great fun and the money comes in handy.

Hello. And this is Mr Arthur Granger and his 80-year-old grandmother.

Major. Major.

- I beg your... - And my grandmother, she's 91.

91! Well, well, well! Goodness me! 91 years of age!

- 91. - And the coroner said she was dead.

Er... He said she was dead, and I got a second opinion. Mine.

And she... Where is she now? She looked all right, so I thought I'd...

She's 91, you see, and they go that way in the end.

- Now, Major... - Can't help it.

When they go... When you say they go that way...

- 91. - Because she's 91?

Yes. I'm a major, and...

- Yourself? You are... - A major.

I'm a major...

Could you tell us... This... Why are you...

I beg your pardon?

- Out there, you see the wind? - Yes.

- What I wanted to know... - Put a wrap on her, Derek!

- Put a wrap on her! - Yes.

- Major... - Ah, we haven't got any rocks.

- Yes. - I'm telling them that you're 91.

- 91. - Yes. Why are you using apparatus?

Oh, well, she's got...

got these er... weak ankles, you see?

And, well, she's had them more than a week, actually. Two weeks.

Is this because the straps that go round the... the particular straps...

Because the straps are on the blink.

They've got these hairy socks, and I don't like the handheld one.

And you prefer the traditional method?

No, I like the hurl method.

- The hurl out to sea. - Yes.

She's left me money in the will, and there's the cottage.

I see. And this is...

Tell him.

So I think we're ready.

- That sounds... - She's 91 already.

91. So I think we're ready for the first on the... I mean...

- I'll just get her. - For the first hurl.

The Major is just making sure that the straps are...

- Fingers in your ears, Granny. - I'll put my fingers in my ears.

And clench your teeth. Hear it go pop.

She's clenching her teeth now, and...

...the rocks, just flatten out.

He has instructed her...

He has instructed her now to flatten out over the rocks when er...

She's about to go. Now...

- Are you ready, dear? - I'm ready.

Fingers in your ears.

He... I think he's ready now.

Looking at his watch. He's...

Oh! Major! Major, that really was quite wonderful.

I'd like to congratulate you. It was a really wonderful hurl.

A wonderful hurl.

And now John Skwonk OBE with his traditional freestyle hurl.

- Don't worry. The rocks will break your fall. - All right, love.

He's ready now. He wheels around once, twice.

He's building up into ever-increasing circles!

Now, that was a beauty! It certainly could be a close thing.

Here in Scotland we have a very difficult political problem.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

Yes, the colour problem in England.

The cost of colour television is prohibitive.

It is also beyond the pocket of the ordinary viewer,

like Tom Skroke of Leeds, who says...

We have therefore decided to give you a form of colour television

for those of you who have only black-and-white sets.

- Yes? - Good morning,

with the blue skies and grey tinges in the east.

I'm Inspector McShagnasty.

- Inspector McShagnasty? - Aye.

Haven't you a ruddy complexion and deep, penetrating blue eyes?

Aye. And you must be Madam Fanny-Grope,

with the purple rinse, with the silver streaks over the creamy ears.

Yes, and it contrasts vividly with my spotty-pink complexion.

May I speak to your husband in the front room,

where the red glow of the fire reflects upon his yellow jowls?

- Of course. Do come in. - Thank you in magenta.

Oh, may I draw your attention to the lemon and green hall carpet?

And by Jove, look here! You have a blue wall with a silver Georgian stripe in it!

Yes. Come in.

Oh! Who is this man with the dark green tie and fawn raincoat?

I am Inspector McShagnasty, and I arrest you,

your brown trousers and your tartan slippers,

with a spot of orange marmalade on the toe, for robbery.

Me? A robbery?

With a spot of orange marmalade on my slippers?

I swear by my uncle's orange, grey and black blazer

that it is a white lie.

Then why has your face gone a ruddy glow,

giving you purple veins around your proboscis?

No, sir. Hold out those off-white arms with the blue hairs

while I put on these bronzed handcuffs.

To prevent holding up the show for normal commercials,

we will now include them in the sketch.

You'll never take me alive!

I would sooner jump out of this two pound, nine and sixpenny,

all-aluminium, non-corrosive window.

Stop, or I'll shoot you with this Smith & Wesson .45 pistol,

priced three pounds ten at all gunsmiths, bullets extra.

You'll never take me,

or my double-support jockey underpants, alive.

Stop, or I'll...

Argh!

Oh! Oh!

Oh! You made a hole in his white nylon drip-dry shin!

Eighteen and six, a bargain!

And the blood.

The blood, it is red and staining this Cyril Lord.

Darling, it'll soon come out with Crappo,

the washing powder with the deep built-in suds,

sixpence a packet at all supermarkets.

Get some today.

Oh! He's dead!

No, I'm not!

The bullet was deflected

by my Hadworths all-steel butane cigarette lighter.

Price: five shillings. Built to last.

I must warn you, sir, that I know that they come in three distinct colours:

green, grey and glitter gold for the ladies.

It's the cigarette lighter that fuels Scotland Yard.

♪ Get Hadworths ♪

You know it makes sense.

Good evening.

It's been a muggy sort of day, with the...

The general picture is that there are a lot of these black lines

moving across the country towards Northern Ireland.

They should be gone by tomorrow morning.

There also appears what would appear to be

a Russian tank attack developing.

Er... As you can see here, here and here,

the number of coloured people living in these areas.

And erm, also, those people living near the Thames Estuary

will find a large blackboard of about 100 miles long...

...running out to sea, with the letters, about a mile high, "rain".

"Rain."

And noon tomorrow will be just south of Iceland there.

So, let's see what son of weather we're going to have tonight, shall we?

It appears to be all right.

So good night, and...

Pim-pom po-po-pom!

You've been watching Q5, the programme without Julie Andrews or David Frost.

Ginger Rogers is now appearing in a £5,000-a-week dressing room

at Drury Lane.

Isn't she, dear?

Yes.

Earlier in the programme, a lady wrote in saying that her husband had died suddenly

after being run over by a steamroller.

She is now offering for sale a rather unique bookmarker.

Good night.

Ow! Get her off! Get her off!

And the magic word this week is "a tree fell on her."

“A tree fell on her.“

Did you hear the mess they made of that beginning?

Oh. No, wait. I was erm...

I had beans on toast at the time.

Did you hear them?

Yeah, they didn't give me a proper cue when we started.

Oh. Oh, didn't they?

- "Try your weight." - Oh, I thought they did.

No. No, they didn't.

- They didn't. They didn't give me a cue. - They did.

- They did. - They didn't.

- How dare you! - I never heard the cue.

Good evening.

My name is John Wells.

Gross take-home pay: nine pounds, 12 shillings, plus 18 shillings for each child.

This brings his money up to 498 pounds, six and fourpence.

We must operate at once.

The pill: is it potent and does it?

Hear what a Roman Catholic priest said.

Two packets, please.

You see, Doctor, we've had 23 children in 20 years.

We must operate at once.

You see, my husband and I do not wish to take the pill

because we are Coman Ratholics.

Look, I want you to take a glass of orange juice every night on going to bed.

- Before or after? - Instead of!

No! It'll have to wait.

To take the pill or not to take the pill?

We put this delicate question to a random assortment of practising sex maniacs.

- One said... - Aargh!

- Another said... - Aargh!

And another said...

♪ Ave Maria

Thus giving us two "Aarghs" to one Ave Maria, putting the Catholics behind.

We asked the same question

of a cosmopolitan assortment of part-time Protestants.

- Madam, do you take the pill? - Yes.

- Why? - Cos I like the taste.

- Why do you take the pill? - Well, it passes the time.

I always keep a packet handy.

They help me concentrate on the job.

Terribly refreshing.

It stopped me smoking.

Hello, sailor!

Aargh!

There's a lot of it about.

Are you getting yours?

I wonder what the folks back home are doing.

We're not doing anything.

The calling in of firearms and watery legs

has not prevented attacks on innocent people.

However, you do not need a licence for a custard pie.

This has not gone unnoticed by the underworld.

Under the cover of pastry, the first attack took place.

November 10th, The National Gallery.

Ten minutes later, the Speaker of the House of Lords.

Then another attack.

Then, in quick succession, David Frost, Hughie Green,

and almost... Mafia-inspired a {Tacks were made on Russia's Khrushchev,

France's de Gaulle, and America's own Cassius Clay.

Police want to interview this man. They warn that he may be armed.

He may be left-armed or he may be right-armed, or he may be short-armed.

Is he Jewish?

Everybody's Jewish!

Tense? Frustrated?

Let Instant Husband help you.

No mess, no fuss, just satisfaction.

It ruined m-my marriage.

Come in. Good morning, madam. Er... May we come in?

- Yes. - Thank you. Erm...

My name is Ernest Skwonk, a salesman,

and this is my fellow director.

You must excuse his diminutive proportions, but on the way here, guess what happened.

- What? - A tree fell on him.

Oh!

Madam, we are very worried about your child's education.

- Oh? - Oh! I mean, are you satisfied with him?

- Who? - Who?

Your child's education, that's who.

- Well, he is way down at school. - He's way down at school, madam.

He's way down at school.

What he needs, madam, is the entire weight of the Knowledge Of The World behind him.

- Oh. Is that them? - That is them, madam.

I mean, for instance, does your child know that the Japanese crapo fly

can walk backwards on one leg at two miles an hour?

No. He never tells me anything.

He never tells you anything, madam. He never tells you anything.

Another thing. Do you know what the intellectual jet set are saying?

No, I don't.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, 2001 BC onwards.

- Oh, is that what they're saying? - That's what they're saying, madam.

That's what the Knowledge Of The World is saying, madam.

Oh. Well, I've just made a cup of tea if...

Tea. Tea: grown on the slopes of the Nilbery Hills, altitude 3,000ft.

- I get mine at the Co-op. - Oh.

Madam, I think I should draw attention to something you may not know.

- The Colossus of Rhodes. - Oh, the Minister of Transport!

No, you're wrong, madam. You see, ignorance is wrong.

No, the Minister of Transport is not the Colossus of Rhodes. No.

The Minister of Transport is a giant nude statue bestriding the Port of Alexandria.

- Fancy! What will they think of next? - I'll tell you what I'll think of next, madam.

I'd like you to examine this Knowledge Of The World.

Open it... Open it at random.

Random.

"Rand... Randy... Random."

"Hausman Von Random. German bladder manipulator.

1857-1759. Died of la grippe."

You see, madam, you already have the edge over the neighbours.

Now, tell me, madam... Tell me, madam.

Would you be interested in buying the entire set of the Knowledges Of The World?

Well, not today.

Tomorrow, then?

Look, madam, while we wait, your child's mind is flowering in ignorance.

- Yes. - Shut up.

Keep calm!

Keep calm! War, war! Hate, hate!

Look, madam, I can see you're busy.

Would you be interested in our spring economy pack,

A-to-B inclusive?

- How much? - Erm...

Er... Two guins per vol.

I've only got 30 bob.

30 bob.

Two shillings. Four bob.

Six bob. Eight...

I wonder what the folks back home are doing.

We aren't doing anything.

The police took a number of names and addresses.

They also took several boxes of postcards,

a film projector and several appliances.

There's a police recruiting station in your town.

Today I'm taking part in a most extraordinary court case,

being held at the Magistrates Court Paddington.

The Right Honourable Judge will be played by John Wells, and I...

...and arriving here on time.

Will the prostitution commence?

My Lord, I hope to prove that, by negligence,

Steam Dick's Turkish Bath

caused such a considerable personality change in my client

that not even his own mother recognised him.

- Did she ever recognise him? - No, my Lord. A tree fell on her.

Oh. How was this change wrought?

Well, he was changed from considerable substance to a liquefied form.

When you say "liquefied form", is he erm... dead?

- We don't know, Your Honour. - What? Either he's dead or he's not dead!

- May I pray for your indulgence? - Is he in court?

- Yes. - Call him, then.

- Call Harry Secombe! - Call Harry Secombe!

- Are you Harry Secombe? - No. I'm Police Constable Z-Cars.

Gross take-home pay: 14 pounds, four shillings and ninepence,

with repeats 32 pounds, four and fourpence.

You see, I just carry the bucket.

May I clarify?

In that bucket is my plaintiff, Harry Secombe.

- All of him? - Yes.

- What's he doing? - Nothing. He's lying quietly in the bottom.

May I elucidate?

If you must, but I must warn you, it can cause blindness.

Thank you, my Lord.

My Lord, on 1st April, which is a Jewish holiday in Morecambe and Wise...

...my client attended Steam Dick's Turkish Bath.

There he was shown to a chamber, stripped, and left to steam.

- To steam? - Steam, Your Honour.

- Don't tell me a tree fell on him. - No, my Lord. Something far worse.

Something far worse.

A faulty valve caused the heat in his chamber to rise to some 800°C,

the melting point of the human body.

- Good Lord. - An assistant rushed in, but alas, too late.

Mr Secombe now lay in a puddle on the floor.

The assistant, being a sensitive man,

mopped him up with a sponge and wrung him out into a bucket.

That bucket.

Silence! I will not have under-rehearsed mumbling in this court

-Can we see Mr Secombe? Constable, will you pour out the plaintiff?

Good old Harry!

And you are suing for negligence?

No, not for negligence. We're suing for shod measure, my Lord.

According to the forensic report, on entering the steam baths,

my client Harry Secombe weighed 19 stone 10Ib

and gaining all the time. According to a rough conversion table,

that should work out at eight-and-a-half imperial Welsh pints.

May I draw the court's attention to this, there's barely six pints.

And we are saying that Mr Sekroon

is deficient by two-and-a-half imperial Welsh pints?

Yes, my Lord.

- Can't we top him up with a little tap water? - I'm afraid not. It's against his religion.

And now...

...the defence rests.

Call Aristotle Onassis.

And now, in my new role as consenting male announcer, the very...

the very real and very disturbing problem of smoking pot.

When you buy a packet of pots...

...you are on the threshold of a new hallucinatory experience.

Just look at this film.

Real groovy, man.

That experience was achieved without the help of any drug at all.

All it needed was a piano, a pianist, an old lady and an out-of-work plumber.

Breathe in.

Out.

- And say "ah". - Ah.

Sit down.

I am very sorry.

- Is it bad, Doctor? - It's very bad, I'm afraid.

Doctor, tell me. I must know the truth.

- Lady Teazle. - Yes, Doctor?

Your husband's suspicions are well founded.

- You've suffered a severe sex change. - That's the third time this week.

What causes it?

- Elephants. - You mean I've got elephants?

Yes, low down, where they're very expensive.

Doctor, please, are you sure I've got elephants?

Look at this slide of your blood.

Good heavens!

Look out! Look out! Run for it! He's seen us!

Get out the way!

Pab-zap-zowee.

There is no need for you to suffer with elephants any more.

My company, Eye See Eye To Eye, have come up with a brilliant new formula.

Here's how to keep your family healthy and elephant-free.

And it's only three and nine a box.

Good evening.

So, no longer is the jet set confined to the King's Road.

Some confinements are taking place in Queen Charlotte's,

and even these are spreading.

Now, the centre of Hippiedom, of course, is now in Neasden,

the gateway to NW10.

And the er... guru

of this new-found establishment has installed himself... I beg your pardon.

- should say has enthroned himself in the new love nest...

...er at 3 Clack Lane, Ruislip.

A rather misleading name to such a Valhalla of erotica.

Don't let this homely facade fool you.

Behind this photograph lives the Guru, to give Ned Teeth his full name,

who has brought a strange, mystic beauty to these otherwise drab surroundings.

Her name, the Honourable Lutitia Body, heiress to a car-park empire.

- Oh, I'm getting these vibrations. - I see.

I'm getting these erm, vibrations. Just a minute.

- Now... - Just a minute, man.

Like, I'm on gas now, man.

Has Ned Teeth always been your name, Guru?

No, no. It used to be Ernesto Spedpiroldi...

But it was too loud,

so I changed it to...

shortened it to...

...I shortened it to Ned.

And so he shortened it to Ned,

a name that is redolent of mysticism.

Guru Teeth, prior to your finding

your new-found metaphysical manifestation, what were you?

I was a trainee embalmer at Leith Crematorium.

But there is... It bugged me, man. It bugged me.

- There was no outlet for my natural talent. - I see. And what were your talents?

I could play Abide With Me on the bones.

I see. And er... you come from a musical family?

No, that's the funny part. I don't know where I get it.

- Oh, man! I'm flying, man! - So er... I see.

- So then you left the crematorium? - Yes, yes. It bugged me, man.

I wanted to... I wanted to get onto a new scene.

Right. There they go. There they go.

Guru Teeth, for the less knowledgeable, could you tell us, what music is that?

That's your mystic Indian raga.

I see. And this is a record, is it?

No, it's a bunch of wogs in the next room.

- You mean Commonwealth immigrants. - No, it's a bunch of wogs in the next room.

I see.

What?

Oh, man! I'm on it now, man.

Guru Teeth...

Yes, I see. I'm rather interested here.

Without physical contact, how do you make them play?

Well, you see that mystic hole in the wall?

Well, every hour, I bung through a tin of pussy-cat meat.

One tin for the raga

and two tins for Sergeant Pepper's Curried Lonely Heads Band.

Later, of course...

Later we spoke to the Guru's spiritual consort,

the Honourable Lutitia Body.

Er... Ms Body, when did you first contact the Guru?

We met by accident.

He ran over me in a dustcart.

At the time, he was the Assistant Guru to the Hendon Public Cleansing Department.

- I see. And was he Jewish? - Yes, he was.

I see. And your function now?

Oh, I am his handmaiden.

I give him my all.

She gives him her all.

Oh, she don't half give that!

Yeah, every morning she... Little darling, she is!

Every morning she comes into the dressing room, nothing on.

Do you know what she gives me? A cheque for 10,000 quid.

I see. And in return, what do you give her?

I slip her a receipt.

He slips her a receipt.

- Here he is. - Oh.

Yes.

That's the washing-up water, you twit!

And that was the washing-up water, you twit.

No, no, no. Let me explain to you, sir. Let me explain.

The Guru is washing his hands in anticipation of smoking.

Here. Oh, baby. Do you want a trip?

Er... What are they?

Woodbines.

And there we must leave the Guru and his Teeth, and, of course, his flock.

Anyone wishing to make contact with the Guru, write to "Swami Ned Teeth,

13 Tariq Alley, just off the...

"just off the Letsbe Avenue, London, NW10."

♪ God save our gracious Queen

There we leave the Guru, a man of many religious convictions,

three of which are pending.

This is a recorded announcement.

Ours is the age of new recording gimmicks.

Jimi Hendrix: wigs.

Sandie Shaw: no shoes.

Tessie O'Shea: no drawers - one away and three in the wash.

One late result: John Lennon - one, Yoko Cola - lost.

Every possible permutation has been exploited,

so the need for originality becomes more and more wax pressing,

wax pressing, wax pressing.

This man is Cedric Lunge, who has signed a contract with a recording company

to leap off Beachy Head and sing Ave Maria before he hits the rocks below.

♪ Ave

♪ Maria

He was killed outright.

This was a flagrant breach of contract.

The company sued the family for the remainder of the song.

So the son, Hercules Lunge, took up the challenge to clear his father's name.

Let us recap.

Now, Cedric Lunge, from point A...

...point A, managed to sing three bars of Ave Maria before hitting point B.

Contractually, he was 29 bars shod and dead.

Now, this meant that Hercules Lunge's descent... a superb idea.

A pair of parachute socks.

Now, several tests were made using a weighted body called Hercules Lunge.

All set, then, for the second attempt.

Another breach of contract.

The record company was losing its patience.

The Lunge family was losing its people.

But then, into the breach stepped Aristotle Lunge,

the great-great-great-grandson of Cedric,

the first of the singing, jumping and dying Lunges.

And, as you can see, he's broken his training,

both legs, an arm and his neck to be with us tonight.

With him is his trainer, Tom Danger.

I wonder if you could tell us in your own words, Aristotle, what exactly...

- Ow! - ..what exactly you're up to.

I feel I have a destiny to fulfil.

- Could you elaborate on that? - Yes.

How many bars are there left of the elusive Ave Maria to complete?

- 13. - Isn't that considered an unlucky number?

No, no!

You take my first marriage, 13th July,

the first wife, she gets killed - tree fell on her.

Two years later, the second wife,

she gets killed, 13th July - tree falls on her.

And then the third wife, 13th July, she gets killed.

Don't tell me a tree fell on her?

No, no. She died in bed.

- What happened? - A tree fell on her.

How are you training Mr Lunge?

Well, you see, you've got to harden up his nut for the rocks he's going to encounter

when he jumps over.

So every morning I set him off singing Ave Maria,

then he drops half a hundredweight of rocks on his nut, and that's it.

- What effect does that have on him? - A lasting one.

- In other words... - I don't know any other words.

- Are you Jewish? - Am I Jewish? No, a tree fell on me.

You see...

You see, what we do is this.

Every night I hang him up on a meat hook,

upside down, with his nut in a bucket of brine.

And we revolve him all night, slowly, with a dog tied to a lead. Round he goes.

In the morning, I turn him up the other way,

and then I massage his nut with an iron bar

dipped in Nut... Nut...

...Nut Nourisher.

Then we give him another hundredweight of rocks on his nut,

then I give him half an hour's belting with an iron bar, then he has his breakfast.

- What does he have for breakfast? - What does he have? Another belting.

I see. And do you think this belting on the nut does the trick?

- No, no. - Well, why do you do it, then?

I don't like him.

Well, as you see"

Now, then. Time for another workout, chaps. Are you ready?

♪ Ave

♪ Maria

We must operate at once.

- Why? - We've all got to make a living.

- Respirations? - Normal.

- Pulse? - Normal.

Right, let's start now. Scalpel.

Scalpel.

Venal clips.

Venal clips.

Swabs.

Swabs.

Oh, blast!

Oh, blast!

- Swabs. - Swabs.

And now here is your chance to win a plate of funny gravy.

Here's what you have to do.

And send the bits to The Mortuary, Leeds Crematorium, Hull.

♪ Yesterday

♪ All my troubles seemed so far away

♪ Now it looks as though they're here to stay

♪ Oh, I believe in yesterday

♪ Suddenly

♪ Suddenly

♪ I'm just half the man I used...

♪ There's a shadow hanging over me

♪ Oh, yesterday came suddenly

♪ Why she had to go, I don't know

♪ She wouldn't say

♪ I said something wrong

♪ Now I dream of yesterday

♪ Yesterday

♪ AII my troubles seemed so far...

♪ Far away

♪ Now I need a place to... hide away

♪ Oh, I believe

♪ In yest.

♪ Yester-

Aagh!

♪ I bel... ♪

And that was the consultant specialist.

Good evening. Or if you're in Australia, good morning.

Or if you're in Anguila... good luck.

Would you now all stand for the National Anthem?

♪ God save our gracious Queen

♪ Long live our noble Queen

♪ God save our Queen ♪

What a wonderful tune that is.

Lovely tune. My wife and I often sing it of an evening, you know.

I say to her, "Molly, shall we go into the lounge and sing God Save The Queen?"

She says, "Yes, John." And we go down and sing it.

We often invite Ted and his mother to come over and sing it with us.

It really is a lovely tune. ♪ God save our gra-

I can't understand why it isn't in the charts, you know.

But seriously, folks.

Is it in fact like a dead palm tree - out of date?

Well, I think I got the best out of that joke.

Get the best out of this one, Sailor! Whoopee!

Er...

That was John Wells in a censored excerpt from the Mountbatten Story.

To find out whether people actually did stand for the National Anthem,

we tried this simple experiment. Example one - Kew Gardens.

♪ God Save The Queen

And number two -The Mall.

♪ God Save The Queen

But then suddenly it's the Queen. ♪ God Save The Queen

Number four - the sewers.

♪ God Save The Queen

Ooh!

The Services. ♪ God Save The Queen

The Water Board.

♪ God Save The Queen

-Finally... ♪ God Save The Queen

Well, there, you see, there are those people who just won't.

But most people generally do stand for the National Anthem.

What we can't understand is why they stand for Harold Wilson,

Edward Heath and Mrs Enid Stone.

I'm Enid Stone and I'm 62.

62! Isn't that wonderful, ladies and gentlemen?

She's 62.

Great big hand for Enid Stone who's 62.

But what of those expatriates who are beyond the earshot

of God Save The Queen?

There they lie, in the corner of some foreign suit that is forever England.

We carried out a National Anthem survey with Lord Louis Mountbatten,

who'd taken time off from filming Ben-Hur with a cast of sailors.

Hello, sailor!

Harr-har-harr!

Using GPO National Anthem detectors,

we discovered that old people living in these areas here,

there and there, were totally without GSTQ -

God Save The Queen.

Yes, we at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office

decided to invent a pill which would make you hear the National Anthem in your mind.

- That's wonderful. - Very good.

I heard every... every... note. ♪ God save... ♪

Of course, these National Anthem pills have got very very nasty side effects.

But there are other far worse problems.

Let us visit the National Anthem Addiction Centre at Sandringham.

- The Queen! The Queen! - The Queen!

- The Queen! - The Queen!

Here we see many suffering the advanced throes and acute agonies

of National Anthem mania.

The Queen, God bless her! God bless her!

Queen!

The Queen!

The Queen, God bless her!

God bless her! God bless her!

Queen!

These are the withdrawal symptoms of compulsive patriotism,

even though these people have not heard the National Anthem for three weeks.

Fortunately, the GPO has come up with a dial an anthem service.

♪ The Marseillaise

I've got the wrong anthem. Hello?

Let that give comfort to those who scoff at The Patriot,

the well-known restaurant which serves brown Windsor soup

in the shape of the Duke of Edinburgh.

Woof!

♪ Oh, for the wings

♪ For the wings of a dove ♪

Excuse me.

♪ Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away

Excuse me!

Is there anybody out there? Hello?

Yeah! Where are you?

Inside.

- Inside? - Yes.

- Inside what? - The elephant!

I'm inside the elephant.

What? I don't believe... don't believe you.

You don't have to believe me. All I want you to do is to make a simple phone call.

Walk about a bit.

How did you get in there, then?

- I know the right people. - Oh.

I didn't mean... I didn't mean any harm to you, sir.

Here, did you er... did you er... pay to come in, like?

- No. - Oh!

Oh, well, we'll have to see about that, then, sir.

♪ Someday I'll find you

Ladies. Worried? Nervy?

The neighbours talking, the children becoming an embarrassment.

Then go out today and get married.

You know it makes sense.

Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

That's £100.

Well, he should be better soon.

_Yes?

- Doctor". - Yes.

Lady de Vere Rothschild is here.

Oh, well, send her in.

Starting... now.

Ah! Doctor! Doctor!

Oh, I haven't slept a wink in weeks. It's dreadful. The pain's in my dog's legs.

I thought at first it was the liver because of all the spots before my eyes.

Oh, but now I think it's my heart. My heart, the palpitations!

And then...

I'm sorry, Lady de Vere. Your time is up and you owe me 38 guineas.

Can you afford to come back again next week?

- Certainly. - Have this money made up.

Any good bank will cash it for you.

Atchoo!

That was a series of well-known English sneezes played by Friar Balsam.

The common cold is losing Britain 890,000 man hours a week.

That man is Barbara Castle.

Under a new law, a cold can be prosecuted.

Do you swear to raise your right hand

and place your left hand upon the Holy Bible?

I do.

Ah, M'Lud.

Er... the prisoner Maurice Groins

stands accused of contracting Hong Kong flu

on 17th November last,

thus endangering his workmates.

It sounds like a very serious diagnosis. Has he a record?

- Yes, M'Lud. - Is it Lulu?

He has a previous record, M'Lud.

On 1st January of the same year,

whilst a member of the Welsh Harp Midwinter Mixed Bathing Club...

...he contracted mixed measles.

Mixed measles. I see.

Is he an habitual invalid?

Er, yes, sir. I have his medical card here.

It goes back er... to the age of three.

It started in a small way with mumps and repeated sore throat.

- Yes. - And then he went on, until last year

he was arrested for congenital bronchitis.

I see.

Um, now then, under National Health Service law,

a man is fit until he's proved ill.

Therefore, can we see the evidence and this is late in arriving...?

Exhibit one. One pot of menthol vapour rub,

found on the scene of the ailment.

Exhibit two.

One nasal douche,

a packet of continental throat pastilles.

Plus, one box of Kleenex.

Several of which had been used.

Prisoner, in the face of this evidence, have you anything to say?

- I don't feel very well, M'Lud. - An admission of guilt.

I admit I've been a fool, Your Honour, but you see,

- I was a victim of my own circumstances. - When lunch comes,

- can you get ham sandwiches... - ..trave ing on the London rush hour travel?

- Ham, yes, M'Lord. - And with some er...

A round of cheese with some Banyan pickle in.

This is a very serious charge!

Will you, prisoner, please stand?

I am standing, Your Honour.

Then will you stand on somebody else, then?

Now, then. Maurice Groins.

You have grievously given Hong Kong flu to your landlady, Mrs Scrackle.

And your workmates Jim Floog, Arthur Needs and Tom Things

and all the other lads on lathe No.4 at Woolwich Arsenal.

Who are now all in bed with Mrs Scrackle,

awaiting trial because of your evil influenza.

Now then, I sentence you to be taken from here

to the Hong Kong penal flu colony...

...for a term of no less than 30 penicillin injections,

and may the Lord have mercy on your...

Atchoo!

Atchoo!

Atchoo!

My eye... Atchoo!

Atchoo!

I'm sorry, Your Worship, but I must apprehend you for sneezing in public.

And I must warn you that any further atchoos you may issue

will be taken down and used in evidence against you.

Officer, this could mean promotion for you.

Whoopee!

And now, let us all join together and sing 141,

O Sweet And Sour Lobster Balls And Chicken Chow Mein.

♪ O sweet and sour lobster balls... ♪

- This is the place. - What's it all about, Alfie?

Well, a bloke's got in here without paying.

- Oh? Where is he? - He's inside the elephant.

Would you mind repeating that, sir?

There's a bloke got in here without paying.

Where is he, sir?

He's er... he's inside the elephant.

What's this for, then?

I have reason to believe you're drunk in charge of an elephant.

Oh. I apologise. You're not drunk in charge of an elephant.

- Are you back yet? - What was that?

That's him. The bloke inside the elephant.

I say! Hello!

Listen! Listen!

We've got a copper out here, so you watch it in there, mate.

What do you want to go and do that for?

Er, excuse me, sir. Police constable here.

I have reason to believe you got in here without paying.

- I'd just like a few particulars, sir. - Look, all I want is this.

Will somebody phone up Foflnum & Mason's

and tell them to collect my lawn mower as the axle is out of alignment?

Can I have your name, please, sir?

I'm not going to give it to you.

Listen, don't mess around. You're inside one of our best elephants.

- I can't hear you. - Hold it, then.

How's that?

I think he's within the law, Alf.

I'd just... I'd better go and get a search warrant, Alfie.

All right, then. I'll keep my eye on him.

- Won't be long, Alfie. - You're for it now, mate.

Here, what's it like in there?

Get the guns.

- Get the guns. - I've got the gun.

Come over here.

Round about here's a good place. Do you see?

- Which way is England, sir? - It's over there.

- That's England over there. - Rifle on your shoulder.

- Which one? Right or left? - Left.

Left one, sir, or the right one?

All right. Now this is what you do.

You do one... two... three.

- Yes, sir. I got that. - Do it again.

This is the Free Welsh Army training on a piece of waste ground

loaned to them by the Deptford Borough Council.

These men have sworn to annex Wales from England,

and as you know, Wales is an annex of England.

Over now to their headquarters - Shirley Bassey.

Here in this crude Welsh hut,

in the very head of Bethnal Green,

the hard core of the Free Welsh Army are secretly talking.

- Yacht da! - Yacht da!

Er, group leader, what is this revolutionary plan of yours to take over Wales?

We're eating it! Yacht da!

- Yacht da! - Yacht da!

Yacht da!

When you say you're eating it, do you mean that literally?

Oh, yes, boyo. Oh, yes.

Spoon by spoon. Shovel by shovel.

Acre by acre, county by county.

We're eating it until it's all ours!

Yacht da!

Yacht da! Yacht da!

These sacred piles of Carmarthenshire earth

were freshly picked from a sheep-covered hill at dawn.

Tell me, do you have many such piles?

Oh, yes. Today we eat this pile.

Yacht da! Yacht da!

Yacht da!

- Tell me, is he a miner? - No, he's 27.

No, I mean...

I mean, is he a coal miner?

No, he's a wog. It doesn't come off, you see?

It certainly didn't come off that time.

Tell me, why of all people did you choose him to eat Wales?

They'll eat anything, you see.

I see. Of course, the rest of them are all Welsh, of course.

Oh, no. He's Irish.

- He's Irish? - Uh-huh.

- What about him? - Oh, he's Jewish.

Strange.

He doesn't look Jewish. Are you Jewish?

No. It's bad enough being Welsh.

Yacht da! Yacht da!

Now... it is the hour of Cymru.

Ooh...

The sacred soil of Wales.

The sacred soil. What does it taste like?

Bloody awful! Bloody awful!

Does eating the sacred soil have any effect upon you?

Yes. You get much healthier. And the worms are happier.

I see.

I've heard of the Diet of Worms but this is ridiculous.

He's heard of the Diet of Worms but that was ridiculous.

But now tell me... what about the waters of Wales?

- We're drinking it. - Drinking it?

Here is a group leader attacking a lake.

Here is yet another secret method of removing a lake

from the iron heel of the English.

This man, who in everyday life,

is just an ordinary minister of technicoiogy,

is a trained Welsh lake drinker.

We see him now after 18 hours of continuous consumption.

Of course, a task like this requires tremendous control and willpower.

- True, it's no good just drinking it, you see. - Where's he gone?

He's gone for a leak!

There you have it.

And on that note we say farewell to Free Wales.

Don't forget to get your free whale at your fishmonger'stoday.

Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

Housewives, get your margarine on the HP and spread it over two years.

One.. .two.

You know it makes sense.

- Seen this notice before, sir? - No!

- I've just got here. - Not read the notice, then?

Never! Have you?

I've read the notice. Would you like to read it?

No! I wouldn't!

- Afraid you have to, sir. - No. Very well.

I will.

Don't do it!

- You read the notice? - No!

"Printed by Citygate House Printers, London."

- Right. - Anything to declare, sir?

- No! - Suitcase open, please.

- Why? - You did read the notice?

Of course I read the notice. I read the notice!

- Open the suitcase, please. - Why?

I want to see what's inside.

I can tell you what's inside. World War ll.

- You did read the notice? - Of course I did!

- Have you got a bad memory? - No, sir.

Have you got a bad memory?

World War ll!

- Open the suitcase, please. - I told you what's inside. World War ll.

If you don't open the suitcase, sir, we shall have to force it open.

What! What!

- What's the matter? - What's the matter?

- He won't open the suitcase, sir. - Has he read the notice?

- He's read the notice. - It says nothing about World War ll.

No, it doesn't, sir. Would you open the case?

Right.

World War has gone!

It's gone. It was there, I tell you. It's gone. World War II was there.

Must've been an armistice.

- I wonder who won. - I think...

You don't believe me, do you? I tell you what.

- I've got World War I in my big portmanteau. - You'd better come along with us, sir.

No! You can come along with me!

We shall return to that sketch, as is our custom, after this next message.

And now, here are tomorrow's football results.

Tottenham 1 ...Arsenal 2.

Burnley 4... Newcastle 2.

Leeds 9.. Stoke 2.

No, sorry. They just scored again. Stoke 3.

That goal was scored by a tall, dark handsome man,

who will shortly be crossing the water in return for large sums of money.

The match between Sheffield Wed'y and Manchester United

will be cancelled when the score is 6-2.

62, isn't that wonderful, ladies and gentlemen?

62, that's really great.

Let's hear it once more for 62.

Well, I'm told that our outside broadcast unit are ready for us now,

so let us go over in time to join the speeches at the centenary dinner

of Amnesiacs Anonymous.

The rehabilitation rate of Amnesiacs Anonymous is not all that it might be.

- Open the case, sir. - No!

No!

If you won't open the case, sir, I'll have to search you.

- What do you mean? - Search you, sir.

- How? - The top jacket off first.

What do you mean? You take it off.

- Tell me what you mean. - You must have taken a jacket off before.

- Right, now the... - And the collar and tie.

- Right, sir. - Now the collar and tie.

- The collar and tie, sir. - Let me help you.

- Now the trousers! - Trousers, eh?

C of E!

- Right, clothes off. - I will not take my clothes off!

- I have to call the Super. - Call the Super.

Brown Windsor souper!

I see you've had him an' all, have you?

He won't open his case, he doesn't like the nylons.

Oh, don't worry, lad. The chief's flying back from a little business trip to Switzerland

especially to interview him.

Ah, there he is now.

I've just flown back from a small business trip to Switzerland

to interview him and here he is now.

Can you tell me what's inside that trunk?

Will you open it, please?

- Will you please open it? - Right.

Passengers for Bordeaux, Madrid and Gibraltar,

please extinguish all pipes and cigarettes,

collect their hand luggage and prepare to embark.

Passengers for Bordeaux, Madrid and Gibraltar, please prepare to embark.

What have you got in the holdall, madam?

The Head Customs Officer,

who was just flying back from a little business trip to Sicily,

for which he smuggled in 800 Oyster watches,

20,000 cigarettes and a bullet wound,

- contracted today from World War I. - Nothing else?

Nothing.

They'll be here in a couple of minutes!

Alfie? Alfie?

- Where are you, Alfie? - I'm in the elephant.

He's holding me as a hostage.

Don't you come near here, Copper!

- Or I'll let him have it! - Have what?

Never mind what, but there's a lot of it about.

Don't go away, Alfie. They'll be here in a minute.

And hurry up, mate. Hurry.

- Over here, sir. - Where is he?

He's in there. Somewhere.

Now then. Come out with your hands up and there'll be no trouble.

Come and get me, Copper!

No good trying to make a break for it. We've got every exit covered.

- I'm sending in a warrant. - You'll never get it to me.

This place is foolproof.

Don't you worry. We have our methods.

- The writ is typed on the bun, sir. - Good. Carry on, Constable.

Yes, sir.

You swine!

Now a very cheap and simple way of getting rid of stains on bedclothing.