Episode 8

Trailer

(BBC 2 World symbol.) Voice Over (Eric Idle): Here is a preview of some of the programmes you'll be able to see coming shortly on BBC Television. To kick off with there's variety ... (still picture of Peter West and Brian Johnston) Peter West and Brian Johnston star in 'Rain Stopped Play', a whacky new comedy series about the gay exploits of two television cricket commentators (photo of E. W. Swanton) with E. W. Swanton as Aggie the kooky Scots maid. For those of you who don't like variety, there's variety, with Brian Close at the Talk of the Town. (Brian Close in cricket whites on a stage) And of course there'll be sport. The Classics series (engraving of London and caption: 'The Classics') return to BBC 2 with twenty-six episodes of John Galsworthy's 'Snooker My Way' (composite photo of Nyree Dawn Porter holding a snooker cue) with Nyree Dawn Porter repeating her triumph as Joe Davis. And of course there'll be sport. Comedy is not forgotten (Caption: 'Comedy') with Jim Laker (photo of Laker) in 'Thirteen Weeks of Off-spin Bowling'. Jim plays the zany bachelor bowler in a new series of 'Owzat', with Anneley Brummond-Haye on Mr Softee (photo of same) as his wife. And of course there'll be sport. 'Panorama' will be returning, introduced ('Panorama' caption with photo of Tony Jacklin) as usual by Tony Jacklin, and Lulu (photo of Lulu) will be tackling the Old Man of Hoy (photo of same). And for those of you who prefer drama - there's sport. On 'Show of the Week' Kenneth Wostenholme sings. (still of him, superimposed over Flick Colby Dancers, Pans People, Ono) And for those of you who don't like television there's David Coleman. (picture of him smiling) And of course there'11 be sport. But now for something completely different - sport.

('Grandstand' signature tune starts and then abruptly cuts into the usual animated credit titles.)

‘Archaeology Today’

(ANIMATION: a sketch about an archaeological find leads to a caption on screen: 'ARCHAEOLOGY TODAY' Interview set for archaeology program. Chairman and two guests sit in chair in front of a blow-up of an old cracked pot.)

Interviewer: Hello. On 'Archaeology Today' tonight I have with me Professor Lucien Kastner of Oslo University.

Kastner: Good evening.

Interviewer: How tall are you, professor?

Kastner: ... I beg your pardon?

Interviewer: How tall are you?

Kastner: I'm about five foot ten.

Interviewer: ... and an expert in Egyptian tomb paintings. Sir Robert... (turning to Kastner) are you really five foot ten?

Kastner: Yes.

Interviewer: Funny, you look much shorter than that to me. Are you slumped forward in your chair at all?

Kastner: No, er I...

Interviewer: Extraordinary. Sir Robert Eversley, who's just returned from the excavations in El Ara, and you must be well over six foot. Isn't that right, Sir Robert?

Sir Robert: (puzzled) Yes.

Interviewer: In fact, I think you're six foot five aren't you?

Sir Robert: Yes.

(Applause. Sir Robert looks up in amazement.)

Interviewer: Oh, that's marvelous. I mean you're a totally different kind of specimen to Professor Kastner. Straight in your seat, erect, firm.

Sir Robert: Yes. I thought we were here to discuss archaeology.

Interviewer: Yes, yes, of course we are, yes, absolutely, you're absolutely right! That's positive thinking for you. (to Kastner) You wouldn't have said a thing like that, would you? You five-foot-ten weed. (he turns his back very ostentatiously on Kastner) Sir Robert Eversley, who's very interesting, what have you discovered in the excavations at El Ara?

Sir Robert: (picking up a beautiful ancient vase) Well basically we have found a complex of tombs...

Interviewer: Very good speaking voice.

Sir Robert: ... which present dramatic evidence of Polynesian influence in Egypt in the third dynasty which is quite remarkable.

Interviewer: How tall were the Polynesians?

Kastner: They were...

Interviewer: Sh!

Sir Robert: Well, they were rather small, seafaring...

Interviewer: Short men, were they... eh? All squat and bent up?

Sir Robert: Well, I really don't know about that...

Interviewer: Who were the tall people?

Sir Robert: I'm afraid I don't know.

Interviewer: Who's that very tall tribe in Africa?

Sir Robert: Well, this is hardly archaeology.

Interviewer: The Watutsi! That's it - the Watutsi! Oh, that's the tribe, some of them were eight foot tall. Can you imagine that. Eight foot of Watutsi. Not one on another's shoulders, oh no - eight foot of solid Watutsi. That's what I call tall.

Sir Robert: Yes, but it's nothing to do with archaeology.

Interviewer: (knocking Sir Robert's vase to the floor) Oh to hell with archaeology!

Kastner: Can I please speak! I came all the way from Oslo to do this program! I'm a professor of archaeology. I'm an expert in ancient civilizations. All right, I'm only five foot ten. All right my posture is bad, all right I slump in my chair. But I've had more women than either of you two! I've had half bloody Norway, that's what I've had! So you can keep your Robert Eversley! And you can keep your bloody Watutsi! I'd rather have my little body... my little five-foot-ten-inch body... (he breaks down sobbing)

Sir Robert: Bloody fool. Look what you've done to him.

Interviewer: Don't bloody fool me.

Sir Robert: I'll do what I like, because I'm six foot five and I eat punks like you for breakfast.

(Sir Robert floors the interviewer with a mighty punch. Interviewer looks up rubbing his jaw.)

Interviewer: I'll get you for that, Eversley! I'll get you if I have to travel to the four corners of the earth!

(Crash of music. Music goes into theme and film titles as for a Western. Caption on screen: 'FLAMING STAR - THE STORY OF ONE MAN'S SEARCH FOR VENGEANCE IN THE RAW AND VIOLENT WORLD OF INTERNATIONAL ARCHAEOLOGY' Cut to stock film of the pyramids (cica 1920). Superimposed caption: 'EGYPT- 1920' An archaeological dig in a flat sandy landscape. All the characters are in twenties' clothes. Pan across the complex of passages and trenches.)

Danielle: (voice over) The dig was going well that year, We had discovered some Hittite baking dishes from the fifth dynasty, and Sir Robert was happier than I had ever seen him.

(Camera comes to rest on Sir Robert Eversley digging away. We close in on him as he sings to Hammond organ accompaniment.)

Sir Robert: Today I hear the robin sing, Today the thrush is on the wing, Today who knows what life will bring, Today...

(He stops and picks up an object, blows the dust off it and looks at it wondrously.)

Sir Robert: Why, a Sumerian drinking vessel of the fourth dynasty. (sings!) Today!!!! (speaks) Catalogue this pot, Danielle, it's fourth dynasty.

Danielle: Oh, is it... ?

Sir Robert: Yes, it's... Sumerian.

Danielle: Oh, how wonderful! Oh, I am so happy for you.

Sir Robert: I'm happy too, now at last we know there was a Sumerian influence here in Abu Simnel in the early pre-dynastic period, two thousand years before the reign of Tutankhamun, (he breaks into song again)(singing) Today I hear the robin sing, Today the thrush is on the wing (Danielle joins in) Today who knows what life will bring.

(They are just about to embrace, when there is a jarring chord and long crash. The interviewer, in the clothes he wore before, is standing on the edge of the dig.)

Interviewer: All right Eversley, get up out of that trench.

Sir Robert: Don't forget... I'm six foot five.

Interviewer: That doesn't worry me... Kastner.

(He snaps his fingers. From behind him Professor Kastner appears, fawningly)

Kastner: Here Lord.

Interviewer: Up!

(He snaps his fingers and Kastner leaps onto his shoulders.)

Sir Robert:. Eleven foot three!

Kastner: I'm so tall! I am so tall!

Sir Robert: Danielle!

(Danielle leaps on his shoulders.)

Interviewer: Eleven foot six - damn you! Abdul

(A servant appears on Kastner's shoulders.)

Sir Robert: Fifteen foot four! Mustapha!

(A servant appears on Danielle's shoulders.)

Interviewer: Nineteen foot three... damn you!

(The six of them charge each other. They fight in amongst the trestle tables with rare pots on them breaking and smashing them. When the fight ends everyone lies dead in a pile of broken pottery. The interviewer crawls up to camera and produces a microphone from his pocket. He is covered in blood and in his final death throes.)

Interviewer: And there we end this edition of 'Archaeology Today'. Next week, the Silbury Dig by Cole Porter with Pearl Bailey and Arthur Negus. (He dies.)

The Silly Vicar

Voice Over: And now an appeal for sanity from the Reverend Arthur Belling.

(Cut to studio. A vicar sitting facing camera. He has an axe in his head.)

Reverend Belling: You know, there are many people in the country today who, through no fault of their own, are sane. Some of them were born sane. Some of them became sane later in their lives. It is up to people like you and me who are out of our tiny little minds to try and help these people overcome their sanity. You can start in small ways with ping-pong ball eyes and a funny voice and then you can paint half of your body red and the other half green and then you can jump up and down in a bowl of treacle going 'squawk, squawk, squawk...' And then you can go 'Neurhhh! Neurhh!' and then you can roll around on the floor going 'pting pting pting' ... (he rolls around on the floor)

Voice Over: The Reverend Arthur Belling is Vicar of St Loony Up The Cream Bun and Jam. And now an appeal on behalf of the National Trust.

Leapy Lee

(Caption on screen: 'AN APPEAL ON BEHALF OF THE NATIONAL TRUSS' Cut to a smartly dressed woman.)

Woman: (Eric Idle) Good evening. My name is Leapy Lee. No, sorry. That's the name of me favourite singer. My name is Mrs Fred Stone. No, no, Mrs Fred Stone is the wife of me favourite tennis player. My name is Bananas. No, no, that's me favourite fruit. I'm Mrs Nice-evening-out-at-the-pictures-then-perhaps-a-dance-at-a-club-and-back-to-his-plice-for-a-quick-cup-of-coffee-and-little-bit-of- no! No, sorry, that's me favourite way of spending a night out. Perhaps I am Leapy Lee? Yes! I must be Leapy Lee! Hello fans! Leapy Lee here! (sings) Little arrows that will... (phone rings, she answers) Hello? ... Evidently I'm not Leapy Lee. I thought I probably wouldn't be. Thank you, I'll tell them. (puts phone down) Hello. Hello, Denis Compton here. No no... I should have written it down. Now where's that number? (as she looks in her bag she talks to herself) I'm Mao Tse Tung... I'm P. P. Arnold... I'm Margaret Thatcher ... I'm Sir Gerald Nabarro ... (she dials) Hello? Sir Len Hutton here. Could you tell me, please ... oh, am I? Oh, thank you. (puts phone down) Good evening. I'm Mrs What-number-are-you-dialing-please?

(A boxer rushes in and falls her with one blow. Women's Institute applauding)

Registrar

(We see a man coming through a door with a neat little bride in a bridal dress. The man walks up to the registrar who is sitting at his desk with a sign saying 'Registrar of Marriages '.)

Man: Good morning.

Registrar: Good morning.

Man: Are you the registrar?

Registrar: I have that function.

Man: I was here on Saturday, getting married to a blond girl, and I'd like to change please. I'd like to have this one instead please.

Registrar: What do you mean?

Man: Er, well, the other one wasn't any good, so I'd like to swap it for this one, please. Er, I have paid. I paid on Saturday. Here's the ticket. (gives him the marriage licence.)

Registrar: Ah, oh, no. That was when you were married.

Man: Er, yes. That was when I was married to the wrong one. I didn't like the colour. This is the one I want to have, so if you could just change the forms round I can take this one back with me now.

Registrar: I can't do that.

Man: Look, make it simpler, I'll pay again.

Registrar: No, you can't do that.

Man: Look, all I want you to do is change the wife, say the words, blah, blab, blah, back to my place, no questions asked.

Registrar: I'm sorry sir, but we're not allowed to change.

Man: You can at Harrods.

Registrar: You can't.

Man: You can. I changed my record player and there wasn't a grumble.

Registrar: It's different.

Man: And I changed my pet snake, and I changed my Robin Day tie.

Registrar: Well, you can't change a bloody wife!

Man: Oh, all right! Well, can I borrow one for the weekend.

Registrar: No!

Man: Oh, blimey, I only wanted a jolly good...

(A whistle blows. A referee runs on, takes his book out and proceeds to take the name of the man in the registry office, amidst protests.)

Referee: All right, break it up. What's your number, then? All right. Name?

Man: Cook.

(Cut to the two in the next sketch waiting. Cut back to referee, who finishes booking the man and blows his whistle.)

The Silly Doctor

(Cut to the two waiting. On the sound of a referee's whistle they start acting.)

Doctor: Next please. Name?

Watson: Er, Watson.

Doctor: (writing it down) Mr Watson.

Watson: Ah, no, Doctor.

Doctor: Ah, Mr Doctor.

Watson: No, not Mr, Doctor.

Doctor: Oh, Doctor Doctor.

Watson: No, Doctor Watson.

Doctor: Oh, Doctor Watson Doctor.

Watson: Oh, just call me darling.

Doctor: Hello, Mr Darling.

Watson: No, Doctor.

Doctor: Hello Doctor Darling.

(Sound of whistle; instant cut to: Caption on screen: 'THAT SKETCH HAS BEEN ABANDONED')

Mr. And Mrs. Git

(A cocktail party in Dulwich. Quiet party-type music. Constant chatter.)

Host: Ah, John. Allow me to introduce my next-door neighbout. John Stokes, this is A Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Git. Ah!

Mr Git: Hello, I noticed a slight look of anxiety cross your face for a moment just then, but you needn't worry - I'm used to it. That's the trouble of having a surname like Git.

John: Oh ... yes, yes.

Mr Git: We did think once of having it changed by deed-poll, you know - to Watson or something like that. But A Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Watson's just as bad eh?

John: Yes, yes, I suppose so.

(Mrs Git approaches.)

Mr Git: Oh, that's my wife. Darling! Come and meet Mr... what was it?

John: Stokes-John Stokes.

Mr Git: Oh yes. John Stokes, this is my wife, Dreary Fat Boring Old.

John: Oh, er, how do you do.

Mrs Git: How do you do.

(Mrs Stokes appears.)

Mrs Stokes: Darling, there you are!

John: Yes, yes, here I am, yes.

Mr Git: Oh, is this your wife?

John: Yes, yes, yes, this is the wife. Yes. Um darling, these, these are the Gits.

Mrs Stokes: (slightly shocked) What?

John: The Gits.

Mr Git: Oh, heaven's sakes we are being formal. Does it have to be surnames?

John: Oh, no, no. Not at all. No. Um, no, this... this... this is my wife Norah, er, Norah Jane, Norah Jane Stokes. This is a Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Git. And this is his wife Dreary Fat Boring Old Git.

Mr Git: I was just telling your husband what an awful bore it is having a surname like Git.

Mrs Stokes: (understanding at last) OH Oh well, it's not that bad.

Mr Git: Oh, you've no idea how the kids get taunted. Why, only last week Dirty Lying Little Two-Faced came running home from school, sobbing his eyes out, and our youngest, Ghastly Spotty Horrible Vicious Little is just at the age when taunts like 'she's a git' really hurt. Yes.

(Mrs Git gobs colourfully into her handbag.)

John: Do ... do you live round here?

Mr Git: Yes, we live up the road, number 49 - you can't miss it. We've just had the outside painted with warm pus.

John: (with increasing embarrassment) Oh.

Mr Git: Yes. It's very nice actually. It goes nicely with the vomit and catarrh we've got smeared all over the front door.

Mrs Stokes: I think we ought to be going. We have two children to collect.

Mr Git: Oh, well, bring them round for tea tomorrow.

Mrs Stokes: Well...

Mr Git: It's Ghastly Spotty Cross-Eyed's birthday and she's having a disembowelling party for a few friends. The Nauseas will be there, and Doug and Janice Mucus, and the Rectums from Swanage.

Voice Over: (and caption) 'And Now a Nice Version of That Same Sketch' (Cut to exactly the same set-up as before.)

Host: John! Allow me to introduce our next-door neighhour. John, this is Mr Watson.

Watson: Hello. I noticed a slight look of anxiety cross your face just then but you needn't worry.

(Cut to nun.)

Nun: I preferred the dirty version.

(She is knocked out by the boxer. Cut to Women's Institute applause film.)

Mosquito Hunters

(Big close-up Hank Spire (face only). He is obviously walking along, the camera is following him.)