[J‘J‘J‘]
ANNOUNCER: Boxing Tonight comes from the Empire Pool, Wembley,
and features the main heavyweight bout
-between Jack Bodell... -[CROWD CHEERS]
...British and Empire Heavyweight Champion,
and Sir Kenneth Clark.
It's the first time these two have met, so there should be
-some real action tonight. -[BELL DINGS]
This, then, is the height of the English Renaissance.
The triumph of classical over Gothic.
-Oof! -ANNOUNCER: He's down.
Sir Kenneth Clark is down in eight seconds.
[GARBLED COUNTING]
ANNOUNCER: But he's up again. He's up at six.
The almost ordered facades of Palladio's villas reflect--
-Ooh! -ANNOUNCER: And he's down again.
And I don't think he's gonna get up this time.
[GARBLED COUNTING]
-Winner. -[BELL DINGS]
ANNOUNCER: No. 80, Jack Bodell has defeated Sir Kenneth Clark
in the very first round here tonight.
And so, this big Lincolnshire heavyweight
becomes the new Oxford professor of fine art.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
And now...
[PLAYS ORGAN]
It's...
[J‘J‘J‘]
ANNOUNCER: Monty Python's Flying Circuses.
[J‘J‘J‘]
MAN: Stand and deliver.
Drop that gun.
-[GUNSHOT] -[MAN GROANS]
Let that be a warning to you all.
You move at your peril, for l have two pistols here.
I know one of them isn't loaded anymore, but the other one is.
So that's one of you dead for sure.
Or just about for sure, anyway.
Certainly wouldn't be worth your while risking it,
because I'm a very good shot.
I practice every day.
Well, not absolutely every day, but most days in the week.
I expect I must practice...
four or five times a week at least.
At least four or five.
Only, some-- Some weekends, like last weekend,
there wasn't much time, so that moves the average down a bit.
But I should say it's definitely
a solid four days' practice every week.
At least. I mean, I reckon
I could hit that tree over there.
The one behind the hillock.
Not the big hillock. The little hillock on the left.
You-- You see the three trees.
The third from the left and back a bit. That one.
I reckon I could hit that four times out of five...
on a good day.
Say, with this wind, say-— Say. seven times out of 10.
-What, that tree there? -Which one?
The, uh, big beech with the sort of bare branch
coming out of the top left.
No, no, not that one.
No, no. He means the one over there.
-Look. Do you see that one there? -Yes.
Well, now, go two along to the right.
Uh, just near that little bush?
Well, it's the one just behind it.
Oh. The elm.
No, that's not an elm.
An elm's got sort of great clumps of leaves like that.
That's either a beech or a, um... a, uh...
a hornbeam.
-A hornbeam? -No, not a hornbeam.
What's the--? What's the tree that has a leaf with regular veins coming out.
And the veins go all the way out to the, uh--?
-Serrated? -To the serrated edges.
-A willow. -Oh, that's right.
That's nothing like a willow.
Well, it doesn't matter, anyway.
I could hit it seven times out of 10. That's the point.
-Never a willow. -Shut up!
This is a hold-up, not a botany lesson.
Right. Now, my fine friends...
no false moves, please.
I want you to hand over all the lupines you've got.
Lupines?
Yes, lupines. Come on, come on.
What do you mean, "lupines"?
Don't try and play for time.
I'm not. You mean the flower, lupines?
Yes, that's right.
-Well, we haven't got any lupines. -Honestly.
Look, my fine friends, I happen to know
that this is the Lupine Express.
You must be out of your tiny mind.
Get out of the coach.
Come on, get out.
Just as I thought.
Not clever enough, my fine friends.
Come on, Concorde.
Well, so much for the lupines.
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore Galloping through the sward J‘
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore And his horse, Concorde J‘
J‘ He steals from the rich And gives to the poor J‘
J‘ Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore J‘
Here we are.
-l'll be back. -J‘ Mr. Moore J‘
[WOMAN HUMS]
Morning, Mrs. Trepidatious.
Oh, ldon't know what's good about it.
My right arm's hanging off something awful.
Oh, you want to have that seen to.
What, by that Dr. Morrison?
He's killed more patients than I've had severe boils.
What do the stars say?
Well, Petula Clark says burst them early. But David Frost--
No, the stars in the paper,
you cloth-eared heap of anteater's catarrh.
The zodiacal signs. The horoscopic fates.
The astrological portents.
The omens, the genethliac prognostications.
The mantalogical harbingers.
The vaticinal utterances.
The fatidical premonitory utterances
of the mantalogical omens.
What do the bleeding stars in the paper predict?
Forecast, prophesy, foretell...
ANNOUNCER: And this is where you at home can join in.
-...augur, spell, foretoken, presage... -[AUDIENCE JOINS IN]
...portend, foreshow, foreshadow, forerun,
herald, point to, betoken, indicate.
I don't know.
Well, what are you?
I'm Nesbitt.
There's not a zodiacal sign called Nesbitt.
All right, Derry and Toms.
Aquarius, Scorpio, Virgo, Derry and Toms.
April the 29th to March the 22nd.
Even dates only.
Well, what does it presage?
You have green, scaly skin,
and a soft, yellow underbelly
with a series of fin-like ridges running down your spine and tail.
Although lizard-like in shape,
you can grow anything up to 30 feet in length
with huge teeth that can bite off great rocks and trees.
You inhabit arid subtropical zones and wear spectacles.
Oh. That's very good about the spectacles.
-It's amazing. -Hm.
-What's yours, Irene? -Basil.
I'm sorry. What's yours, Basil?
No. That's my star sign, Basil.
-Oh. There isn't a-- -Yes, there is.
Aquarius, Sagittarius, Derry and Toms, Basil.
Oh.
June the 21st till June the 22nd.
Well, what does it say?
You have green, scaly skin
and a series of yellow underbellies
-running down your spine-- -That's exactly the same.
Oh. Try another one.
What's Aquarius?
It's a zodiacal sign.
I know that.
What's it say in the paper, Mrs. FIan-and-Pickle?
Well, all right.
Oh. It says, "A wonderful day ahead.
You will be surrounded by family and friends.
Roger Moore will drop in for lunch,
bringing Tony Curtis with him.
In the afternoon, a substantial cash sum will come your way.
In the evening, Petula Clark will visit your home
accompanied by The Mike Sammes Singers.
She will sing for you in your own living room.
Before you go to bed, Peter Wyngarde will come
and declare his undying love for you."
-Yuck! -Ew!
What's Scorpio?
Oh, that's very good.
"You will have lunch with a school friend of Duane Eddy's,
who will insist on whistling some of Duane's greatest instrumental hits.
In the afternoon, you will die.
-You will be buried--" -Good morning.
-Oh. -Oh. Morning, doctor.
And how's the old arm this morning, Mrs. Ikon?
Oh, it's still hanging off at the shoulder.
Good. Well, let's, uh, have a look at it, shall we?
[CHUCKLES]
Mm. Oh, damn.
Oh, damn this wretched little bag.
Oh, damn this wretched, bloody little bag.
If there's one thing I hate about being a doctor,
it's this wretched, bloody little bag.
Damn the bloody little bag!
Damn the bloody--
Damn you, wretched little bag.
There. Right.
What's that doing in here? Ugh.
Ewwl
All right. Well... hm-hm.
Uh, hand over the money.
[SCREAMS]
Hm-hm.
Come on, all of it.
[G ROANS]
Thank you.
Yes. Good, that seems to be okay.
Well, I'll just, uh, test your reflexes.
[BOTH SCREAM]
Right. Now then, everything seems to be okay.
I'll see you next week.
Uh, keep collecting the pension.
Try not to spend too much on food.
-Thank you, doctor. -Uh.
Morning, Mr. Henson. How are you today?
Not too bad, doctor.
Okay. Take it easy.
Expecting any postal orders this week?
No.
Righty-o. Ah, Mr. Rodgers,
have you got your unemployment benefits, please?
Right. Well, can you write me a check then, please?
[HUMS]
Thank you very much. Soon have you down to nothing.
Ahh.
Ah, Mr. Millichope.
[CLEARS THROAT]
[BLARING]
[TIRES SCREECH]
[DOOR CLOSES, FOOTSTEPS]
[KEYS JINGLING]
[MAN GROANS]
MAN: Oh! Whoa!
[SIREN WAILING]
[SIREN STOPS]
[SIREN WAILING]
[SIREN STOPS]
[SIREN WAILING]
[TIRES SCREECH]
[DOORS SLAM]
Hm. Well, this will have to do.
[TICKS]
[CLOCK CHIMES]
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
[CLOCK TICKS]
[ALARM RINGING]
WOMAN: Ooh, lovely.
Dinner's ready, dean
[CLOCK RESUMES TICKING]
[ALARM BUZZES]
MAN: Sorry. Your time's up, Mr. Spume.
I'm afraid you lose both the three-piece suite
-and your youngest daughter. -[GUNSHOT]
[LIT FUSE DISSOLVING]
[J‘J‘J‘]
Hello. Should there be another television channel
or Should there not?
On tonight's program, the minister for broadcasting,
-the Right Honorable Mr. Ian Throat, MP. -Good evening.
The Chairman of Amalgamated Money TV,
-Sir Abe Sappenheim. -Good evening.
The shadow spokesman for television,
-Lord Kinwoodie. -Hello.
And a television critic, Mr. Patrick Loone.
Hello.
Gentlemen, should there be a fourth television channel or not?
-Ian? -Yes.
-Francis? -Nope.
-Sir Abe? -Yes.
-Patrick? -NO.
Well, there you have it. Two say will, two say won't.
We'll be back again next week. Uh, next week's great debate
will be about government interference in broadcasting,
and will be cancelled mysteriously.
[J‘J‘J‘]
[ALL SPEAK INAUDIBLY]
ANNOUNCER: Just starting on BBC One now,
Victoria Regina, the inspiring tale
of the simple crofter's daughter
who worked her way up to become queen of England
and empress of the greatest empire
television has ever seen.
On BBC Two now, episode three of George I,
the new 116-part serial about the famous English king
who hasn't been done yet.
On [TV now, the--
-[THUD] -[ANNOUNCER GROANS]
That's awful, but absolutely delightful.
-[BOTH LAUGHING] -But of course.
But of course, you know, who cares?
He said, "Look--" Ah, 'tis my lord of Buckingham.
-Pray welcome, Your Grace. -Thank you, Grantley.
Ladies, may I introduce to you the man who prophesied
that a German monarch would soon embroil this country
in continental affairs.
Oh. How soon, my lord?
Madam, uh, you'll recall that prior to his accession,
our gracious sovereign, George, had become involved
in the long-standing Northern War,
through his claim to Bremen and Verden.
Uh, these duchies would provide an outlet to the sea
of utmost value to Hanover.
The Treaty of Westphalia has assigned them to Sweden.
-In 1648. -Exactly.
Meanwhile, Frederick William of Denmark
taking advantage of the absence of Charles Xll,
seized them, 1712.
-Oh, yes? -It all falls into place.
-More wine? -Oh, thank you.
However, uh, just prior to his accession,
uh, George made an alliance with Frederick William of Prussia,
uh, on the, uh, grounds of party feeling.
While Frederick William had married George's only daughter.
I remember the wedding.
But chiefly through the concerted action
[ALL GASP, SCREAM]
Stand and deliver.
ALL: Dennis Moore.
The same. And now, my lords, my ladies...
your lupines, please.
Our--? Our what?
Come, come, don't play games with me,
my Lord of Buckingham.
What can you mean?
Your life or your lupines, my lord.
[EXASPERATED SIGH]
In a bunch. In a bunch.
Thank you, my friends.
And now, a good evening to you all.
-[HORSE WHINNIES] -MOORE: Giddyap! Forward!
He seeks them here. He seeks them there.
He seeks those lupines everywhere.
The murdering blackguard. He's taken all our lupines.
Not quite.
-Oh! You-- You tricked him. -We still have one.
ALL: Hooray!
[J‘J‘J‘]
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore Riding through the night J‘
J‘ Soon every Iupine In the land J‘
J‘ Will be in his mighty hand J‘
J‘ He steals them from the rich And gives them to the poor J‘
J‘ Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore J‘
J‘ Mr. Moore J‘
[GROANING]
Try to eat some, my dear.
It'll give you strength.
Oh, Mr. Moore. Mr. Moore, She's going fast.
Don't worry. I've--I've brought you something.
-Medicine at last? -NO.
-Food? -Nope.
Uh, some blankets, perhaps? Clothes? Wood for the fire?
Nope.
Lupines.
-Oh, Christ! -I thought you liked them.
I'm sick to bloody death of them!
So am I!
She's bloody dying, and all you bring us is lupines.
All we've eaten, mate, for the last four bleeding weeks
is lupine soup, roast lupine, steamed lupine,
braised lupine in lupine sauce,
lupine in the basket with sautéed lupines,
lupine meringue pie, lupine sorbet.
We feed the cat on lupines.
We burn lupines. We even wear the bloody things.
Looks very smart.
Oh, shut up!
We're sick to death with the stench of them.
[CAT MEOWS]
[THUMP]
Look! The cat's just choked itself to death on them.
I don't care if I never see another lupine till the day I die!
Why don't g--? You go out and steal something useful?
Well, like what?
Like gold and Silver,
and clothes and wood and jewels and--
-Hang-- Hang on, I'll get a piece of paper. -Oh.
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore J‘
J‘ Dum, dum, dum The night J‘
J‘ Dum, dum, dum, dum Plight J‘
J‘ He steals, dum, dum, dum J‘
J‘ And dum, dum Dum dee J‘
J‘ Dennis, dum, Dennis, dee J‘
J‘ Dum, dum, dum J‘
This, coupled with the presence of Peter
and Charles and his Swedes in Pomerania,
made George and Stanhope eager to come to terms with France.
-Meanwhile, a breach-- -[GLASS BREAKS]
-Oh, no. Not again. -NO!
-Oh, come on. -Stand and deliver again.
Your money, yourjewllery, your-- Hang on.
Your clothes...your snuff,
your ornaments, your glassware, your pussycats...
Don't say anything about the lupine.
...your watches, your lace, your Spittoons...
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore Riding through the woods I
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore With a bag of things J‘
J‘ He gives to the poor And he takes from the rich J‘
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore J‘
-Here we are. -J‘ Dennis Moore J‘
BOTH: Ooh.
[MURMUR INDISTINCTLY]
ANNOUNCER: It may be the end of that,
but it’s far from the end of--
Well, in--in fact, it's the beginning.
Well, not quite the beginning.
Well, certainly nearer the beginning--
Well, yes, damn it, it is to all intents and purposes
the beginning of this year's Ideal Loon Exhibition,
sponsored by the Daily Express.
Numbskulls and boobies from all over the country
have been arriving to go through their strange paces
before a large paying crowd.
This is the 15th Ideal Loon Exhibition,
and we took a good look round
after it was opened by its patron.
Here '3 Kevin Bruce, the digger duffer from down under,
who's ranked 14th in the World Silly Positions League.
This kind of incoherent behavior
is really beginning to catch on down under.
There '3 Norman Kirby from New Zealand,
whose specialty is standing behind a screen
with a lady with no clothes on.
In real life, Norman is a gynecologist,
but this is his lunch hour.
And from France, there '3 a superb exhibition
of rather silly behavior
by the Friends of the Free French Osteopaths.
ALL: Un, deux, trois.
ANNOUNCER: They do this over 400 times a day.
Nobody knows why.
But for sheer pointless behavior,
you've got to admire Brian Broomers,
the battling British boy, who, for two weeks,
has been suspended over a tin of condemned veal.
Always popular with the crowd
is the Scotsman With Nae Trew's exhibit.
And this year is no exception.
Sponsored by Natural Gas and Glasgow City Council,
this exhibit is entirely supported
by voluntary contributions.
But for a truly magniﬁcent waste of time,
you've got to go no further than the exhibit from Italy.
Italian Priests in Custard,
discussing vital matters of the day.
These lads from a seminary near Cremona
have been practicing for well over a year.
As always, one of the great attractions
of this 14-day exhibition
is the display of counter-marching
given by the massed pipes and toilet requisites
of the Colwyn Bay Massed Pipes and Toilet Requisites Club.
An interesting point about these boys
is they all have one thing in common:
hip injuries.
Not far away, the crowds are flocking to see
a member of the famous Royal Canadian Mounted Geese.
But the climax of the whole event is the judging.
MAN [OVER MICROPHONE]: Mr. Justice Burke.
Well, that's the last, and let's just see
those last six once again.
And the winner is number 41,
Mr. Justice Burke.
[CROWD APPLAUDS]
[WHEELS SQUEAKING]
[MISCHIEVOUS CHUCKLE]
Attention. Attention.
Uh, suspect heading due north.
Uh, plan 13-A is now in effect.
[SQUEAKING]
Whoop!
[SCREAMING]
[SCREAMING RESUMES]
Yet fear, not like an aged florin,
can so disseminate men's eyes
that fortune, straining at a kissing touch,
may stop a ceaseless search
to sport amidst the rampant thrust of time,
and bring the thing undone to pass,
by that with which the cock may chance an arm.
Well, that's all very well, sir, but this is an off-license.
Uh, just a bottle of sherry then, please.
Certainly. Uh, amontillado?
-Yes, I think amontillado. -Mm-hm.
Finely grown. Well-chosen from the cask of Pluto's hills.
Celled deep within the vinous soil of Spain,
wrenched thence from fiery regions of the sun.
Yes, yes, sir. Uh, just one bottle?
Just one bottle.
Just one jot.
Just one tittle. That's a lot.
There we are, Sir. That'll be a pound, please.
A pound, a pound, and all-around abound.
A pound, found, found. Lost, lost the cost till was embossed.
-Yes, uh-- Uh, excuse me, sir. -Yes, good victualer.
Nature's trencherman, mine honest tapster--
Be-- Uh, I was just wondering: Um, are you a poet?
Uh, no. No, I'm-- I'm a solicitor.
Solicitor. Well...
Well-versed within the written law of man.
-Who can to those who need-- -Oh, Shut up.
I'm sorry.
I'm-- I'm afraid I've caught poetry.
Oh, really? Oh, well, don't worry, Sir.
I used to suffer from short stories.
Really? When?
Oh, once upon a time...
there lived in Wiltshire a young chap called Dennis Moore.
Now, Dennis was a highwayman by profession.
And for several months, he had been stealing from the rich
to give to the poor.
One day...
Here we are again.
Mr. Jenkins.
There we are. I'll be back.
Meanwhile, Frederick William, busily engaged in defending
against the three great powers, the province of Silesia...
Oh, which had seized in the War of the Austrian Succession
-against his word. -Yes, I remember.
-...was now dependent on-- -[GLASS BREAKS]
My lords, my ladies, on your feet, please.
-Oh. -[|NDISTINCT MURMURS]
I must ask you to do exactly as I say,
or I shall be forced to shoot you right between the eyes.
-Oh! -Oh, not right between the eyes. I mean...
when I say "between the eyes," obviously, I don't have to be that accurate.
I mean, if! hit you in that sort of area, like that,
obviously, that's all right for me.
I don't have to try and sort of hit a point bisecting a line
drawn between your pupils or anything.
I mean, from my point of view, it's perfectly satisfactory--
What do you want? Why are you here?
Well, why are any of us here?
I mean... when you get down to it,
it's all so meaningless, isn't it?
I mean, what do any of us want?
-No, no. What do you want now? -Oh, I see.
Oh, just the usual things: Uh, a little place of my own, the right girl, a--
No, no, no. What do you want from us?
Oh, s-- Um, your gold, your silver, yourjewelry.
You've taken it all.
This is all we've got left.
That's nice.
I'll have them. Come on.
You'd better take the bloody lupine too.
Thank you very much. I've gone through that stage.
[J‘J‘J‘]
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore J‘
J‘ Et cetera, et cetera J‘
What you got for us today then?
Well, I managed to find you
four very nice silver spoons, Mr. Jenkins.
Who do you think you are, giving us poor this rubbish?
Bloody silver. I won't have it in me house.
Uh, and those candlesticks you got us last week were only 16 carat.
Yeah, why don't you go out and steal something nice, like some Venetian silver?
Yeah, or a Velasquez for the outside loo.
Oh. All right.
J‘ Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore J‘
J‘ Riding through the land I
J‘ Without a merry band J‘
J‘ He steals from the poor And gives to the rich J‘
J‘ Stupid bitch J‘
What did you sing?
SINGERS: We sang:
"He steals from the poor and gives to the rich."
Wait a tic.
Blimey, this redistribution of wealth is trickier than I thought.
Oh, good evening, and welcome to another edition of Prejudice.
The show that gives you a chance to have a go at wops, krauts,
nigs, Eyeties, gyppos, bubbles, froggies, Chinks,
yids, Jocks, Polacks, Paddles and dagos.
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDS]
Tonight's Show comes live
from the tiny village of Rabid in Buckinghamshire.
And our first question tonight is from Mrs. Elizabeth Scrint,
who says she is going on a Mediterranean cruise next week
and can't find anything wrong with the Syrians.
Well, Mrs. Scrint, apart from being totally unprincipled
left-wing troublemakers, the Syrians are also born Skivers.
They're dirty, smelly and untrustworthy.
And of course, they're friends of the awful gyppos.
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDS]
Well, there you are, Mrs. Scrint.
I hope that answers some of your problems. Have a nice trip.
Well, now the result of last week's competition,
when we asked you to find a derogatory term for the Belgians.
Well, the response was enormous,
and we took quite a long time sorting out the winners.
There were some very clever entries.
A Mrs. Hatred of Leicester said:
"Let's not call them anything, let's just ignore them."
-[AUDIENCE APPLAUDS] -[LAUGHS]
And a Mr. St. John of Huntingdon said
he couldn't think of anything more derogatory than "Belgians."
[AUDIENCE APPLAUDS]
But in the end we settled on three choices.
Number three: the Sprouts.
Sent in by Mrs. Vicious of Hastings.
Very nice.
Number two: the Phlegms.
From Mrs. Childmolester of Worthing.
But the winner was undoubtedly,
from Mrs. No-Supper-for-You from Norwood in Lancashire:
miserable, fat Belgian bastards.
-[AUDIENCE APPLAUDS] -[LAUGHS]
Very good. Very good. Thank you, Carol.
But, as you know, on this program,
we're notjust prejudiced against race or color.
We're also prejudiced against-- yes, you've guessed
--stinking homosexuals!
[ALL APPLAUD, CHEER]
So before the streets start emptying in Chelsea tonight,
let's go over to our popular prejudiced panel game
and invite you once again to shoot the poof.
And could our first contestant sign in, please.
AN NOUNCER: Our ﬁrst contestant is a hairdresser from--
-[GUNSHOT] -[SCREAMS]
Oh, I never did like that kind of person.
DENNIS: Halt. Halt.
Gentlemen, ladies, bring out your valuables, please.
ALL: Oh, no.
Come along, sir. Come along.
[CLEARS THROAT] Come along, madam.
Now...
Is that all you've got?
Yes.
Well, he's got much more than you,
so you better have some of his.
You got a lot of these. Oh, sorry.
Pick them up in a moment.
There's about, ooh, what, nine down there.
So you must have about-- Oh, well, he's still got lots--
You've got what? You've got more than he started with.
So if I give you some of those...
Uh, well, now, look. If I give you that--
Uh, have you got a bit ofjewelry? Yes.
If I give you that one...
and you have some of his coins...
Is that another box?
Were you trying to hide it?
Well--
Ooh, that's nice.
I'll have that.
Right. Now, I've got a tiara.
You've got one. You've got one.
You've got one in the box. You've got one.
Anyone else got a tiara?
Take your hat off.
Oh, honestly, it's absolutely pointless
trying to do this if you're going to cheat.
It really is awful of you.
I thought you should have won.
I mean, judicially, you swept the board.
All right, he had posture.
But where was he in the summing-up?
-Oh, shut up, Melford. -[SOBS]
There's always next year.
[J‘J‘J‘]