NINETEEN
untitled
Compere: Hello, good evening, and welcome to 'It's A Living'. The rules are very simple: each week we get a large fee; at the end of that week we get another large fee; if there's been no interruption at the end of the year we get a repeat fee which can be added on for tax purposes to the previous year or the following year if there's no new series. Every contestant, in addition to getting a large fee is entided to three drinks at the BBC or if the show is over, seven drinks - unless he is an MP, in which case he can have seven drinks before the show, or a bishop only three drinks in toto. The winners will receive an additional fee, a prize which they can flog back and a special fee for a guest appearance on 'Late Night Line Up'. Well, those are the rules, that's the game, we'll be back again same time next week. Till then. Bye-bye.
(Cut to BBC world symbol.)
2nd Voice Over: You're a loony.
1st Voice Over: I get so bored. I get so bloody bored.
(ANIMATION: for a minute or two strange things happen on animation until suddenly we find ourselves into the animated title sequence. Cut to the announcer in a silly location, sitting at his desk as usual.)
Announcer: You probably noticed that I didn't say 'and now for something completely different' just now. This is simply because I am unable to appear in the show this week. (looks closely at script, puzzled) Sorry to interrupt you.
(Cut to a man holding his mouth open to show the camera his teeth.)
Man: I'm terribly sorry to interrupt but my tooth's hurting, just around here.
Voice: Get off.
Man: Oh, sorry.
(Cut to pompous moustachd stockbroker type.)
Nabarro: I'm not sorry to interrupt - I'll interrupt anything if it gets people looking in my direction - like at my old school where, by a coincidence, the annual prize giving is going on at this very moment.
(There is a ripple effect, and a muted trumpet plays a corny segue sequence.)
1st Bishop: My Lord Mayor, Lady Mayoress, it gives me very great pleasure to return to my old school, to present the prizes in this centenary year. This school takes very justifiable pride in its fine record of... aaaaagh! (Hands pull him down behind the table. Fighting, punching, struggle, grunts etc. No reaction at all from the distinguished guests. The bishop's head reappears for a moment. ) ... scholarship and sporting achievement in all... aaaagh!
(He disappears again. More noises. Up comes another bishop dressed identicaly.)
2nd Bishop: I'm, I'm afraid there's been a mistake. The man who has been speaking to you is an impostor. He is not in fact the 'Bishop of East Anglia, but a man wanted by the police. I am the Bishop of East Anglia and anyone who doesn't believe me can look me up in the book. Now then, the first prize is this beautiful silver cup, which has been won by me. (he puts the silver cup into a sack) Next we come to the Fairfax Atkinson Trophy for outstanding achievement in the field of Applied Mathematics. Well, there was no-one this year who reached the required standard so it goes in my sack. And by an old rule of the school all the other silver trophies also go in my sack ... aaagh!
(He is dragged down by an unseen hanat More sounds of fighting, noisier than before even. A Chinaman in Mao jacket and cap appears.)
Chinaman: Velly solly for hold-up ... no ploblem now ... me are Bishop of East Anglia, now piesent plizes ... Eyes down for first plize ... The Fyffe-Chulmleigh Spoon for Latin Elegaics... 'goes to ... People's Republic of China! Aaaagh!
(The Chinaman is dragged down beneath the table as were the others. Again sound of struggle, thumps etc. A plainclothes policeman stands up.)
Detective: Good evening, everybody. My name's Bradshaw- Inspector Elizabeth Bradshaw, of the Special Branch Speech Day Squad, but I'd like you to think of me as the Bishop of East Anglia, and I'd like to present the first prize, the Grimwade Gynn Trophy to...
(A shot. He leaps backwards. Sound of machine guns and exploding shells. Two men in amy uniform with camouflage sticking out of tin helmets rush up to the table and exchange fire. They have a huge bazooka which they fire from time to time.)
Soldier: (appearing from beneath the table, shouting above the din of the battle) Lord Mayor, Lady Mayoress, ladies, gentlemen and boys. Please do not panic. Please keep your heads right down now, and at the back please keep your heads right down. Do not panic, don't look round - this building is surrounded. There is nothing to worry about. I am the Bishop of East Anglia. Now the first prize is the Granville Cup for French Unseen Translation ... (explosion and smoke, debris over the stage) and it goes to Forbes Minor... Forbes Minor ... right, give him covering fire ... (explosion) Come on Forbes. Come on boy. Come and get it. Keep down. (a wretched schoolboy appears on the stage keeping his head down) Well done... (he manages to get the cup but as he stands to shake hands he is shot) Oh... bad luck! The next prize...
(Mix through to a picture on a TV monitor and pull out from monitor to reveal a studio set as for a late-night discussion programme.)
Interviewer: Mr L.F. Dibley's latest film 'if'. (he turns to Dibley) Mr Dibley, some people have drawn comparisons between your film, 'if', which ends with a gun battle at a public school, and Mr Lindsay Anderson's film, 'if', which ends with a gun battle at a public school.
Dibley: Oh yes, well, I mean, there were some people who said my film 'aooz - A Space Odyssey', was similar to Stanley Kubrick's. I mean, that's the sort of petty critical niggling that's dogged my career. It makes me sick. I mean, as soon as I'd made 'Midnight Cowboy' with the vicar as Ratso Rizzo, John Schlesinger rushes out his version, and gets it premiered while mine's still at the chemist's.
Interviewer: Well, we have with us tonight one of your films, 'Rear Window', which was to become such a success for Alfred Hitchcock a few weeks later. Now this is a silent film, so perhaps you could talk us through it...
(Cut to a dim, shaky 8mm shot of a window. It is open. After a few seconds a man appears and looks out. He then performs over-exaggerated horror and points, looking at camera. Then he disappears and then he reappears.)
Dibley: Yes, well, let's see now ... there's the rear window. There's the man looking out of the window. He sees the murder. The murderer's come into the room to kill him, but he's outwitted him and he's all right. The End. I mean, Alfred Hitchcock, who's supposed to be so bloody wonderful, padded that out to one and a half hours ... lost all the tension ... just because he had bloody Grace Kelly he made �3 million more than I did. Mind you, at least she can act a bit, I could have done with her in 'Finian's Rainbow' ... The man from the off-licence was terrible ... a real failure that was - ten seconds of solid boredom.
(Cut to shaky titles: Mr Dibley's 'Finian's Rainbow starring the man from the off-licence'. Cut to the man from the off-licence standing by a tennis-court. He wears a dress and appears to be trying to say something - he has forgotten his words. He doa an unconvincing little dance. CAPTION: 'THE END')
Dibley: Bloody terrible.
Hostess: We had the most marvellous holiday. It was absolutely fantastic.
Host: Absolutely wonderful.
Hostess: Michael, you tell them about it.
Host: No, darling, you tell them.
Hostess: You do it so much better.
(The doorbell rings.)
Host: Excuse me a moment.
(The host goes and answers the door of the fiat, which opens straight into the dining room. Standing at the door is a large grubby man carrying a tin bath on his shoulder. There are flies buzzing around him. He walks straight in.)
Man: Dung, sir.
Host: What?
Man: We've got your dung.
Host: What dung?
Man: Your dung. Three hundredweight of heavy droppings. Where do you want it? ('he looks round for a likely place)
Host: I didn't order any dung.
Man: Yes you did, sir. You ordered it through the Book of the Month Club.
Host: Book of the Month Club?
Man: That's fight, sir. You get 'Gone with the Wind', 'Les Miserables' by Victor Hugo, 'The French Lieutenant's Woman' and with every third book you get dung.
Host: I didn't know that when I signed the form.
Man: Well, no, no. It wasn't on the form - they found it wasn't good for business. Anyway, we've got three hundredweight of dung in the van. Where do you want it?
Host: Well, I don't think we do. We've no garden.
Man: Well, it'll all fit in here - it's top-class excrement.
Host: You can't put it in here, we've having a dinner party!
Man: 'Salright. I'll put it on the telly.
(He brings it into the dining room. The guests ignore him.)
Host: Darling... there's a man here with our Book of the Month Club dung.
Hostess: We've no room, dear.
Man: Well, how many rooms have you got, then?
Host: Well, there's only this room, the bedroom, a spare room.
Man: Oh well, I'll tell you what, move everything into the main bedroom, then you can use the spare room as a dung room.
(The doorbell goes and there standing at the door which hasn't been closed is a gas board official with a dead Indian over his shoulders.)
Host: Yes.
Gas Man: Dead Indian.
Host: What?
Gas Man: Have you recendy bought a new cooker, sir?
Host: Yes.
Gas Man: Ah well, this is your free dead Indian, as advertised...
Host: I didn't see that in the adverts...
Gas Man: No, it's in the very small print, you see, sir, so as not to affect the sales.
Host: We've no room.
Man: That's all right - you can put the dead Indian in the spare room on top of the dung.
Dead Indian: Me ... heap dizzy.
Host: He's not dead!
Gas Man: Oh well, that's probably a faulty cooker.
(The phone rings. The wife goes to answer it.)
Man: Have you, er... you read and enjoyed 'The French Lieutenant's Woman', then?
Host: No.
Man: No... still, it's worth it for the dung, isn't it?
Hostess: Darling, it's the Milk Marketing Board. For every two cartons of single cream we get the M4 motorway.
(Cut to host and hostess standing bewildered in the middle of a motorway. Beside them is a steaming pile of dung, and a dead Indian. They look round in amazement. A police car roars up to them and two policemen leap out.)
Policeman: Are you Mr and Mrs P. Forbes of 7, the Studios, Elstree?
Host: Yes.
Policeman: Right, well, get in the car. We've won you in a police raffle.
(Speeded up, they are bundled into the car. Cut to inspector.)
Inspector: Yes! This couple is just one of the prizes in this year's Police Raffle. Other prizes include two years for breaking and entering, a crate of search warrants, a 'What's all this then?' T-shirt and a weekend for two with a skinhead of your own choice.
(Caption on screen: 'STOP-PRESS')
Voice Over: And that's not allr Three fabulous new prizes have just been added, a four-month supply of interesting . undergarments (picture), a fully motorized pig (picture?), and a hand-painted scene of Arabian splendour, complete with silly walk.
Timmy: Nigel! Wonderful to see you, super, super, super. Am I a teeny bit late?
Nigel: A bit, an hour.
Timmy: Oh, super! Only Snowdon's been re-touching my profile and we can't upset the lovely Snowdon, can we?
Nigel: Gosh, no.
(A man passes.)
Timmy: (gets up and clasps his hands) ... David Bloggs ... the one and only ... super to see you. Who are you working for? Come and work for me, I'll call you tomorrow. (sits down) It's really lovely to have this little chat with you.
Nigel: Well, I...
Timmy: It is so nice to have this little talk about things. I heard a teeny rumourlette that you were married.
Nigel: Well, not quite, no. My wife's just died, actually.
Timmy: Oh dear. (sees another man passing) Brian! (extends his arm) We must get together again soon. See you. Bye. (to Nigel) Well, perhaps we could do a tribute to her on the show.
Nigel: Well, no. I...
Timmy: I'll get Peter, William, Arthur, Alex, Joan, Ted, Scott, Will, John and Ray to fix it up. It is so nice having this little chat.
Nigel: Well, actually Timmy, I'm glad to get you on your own...
(A reporter comes up to the table.)
Timmy: You don't mind if Peter just sits in, do you?
Nigel: Well, actually...
Timmy: Only he's doing an article on me for the 'Mail'. He's such a lovely person.
Reporter: Hello.
Timmy: Peter, this is one of the nicest people in the world, Nigel Watt. (Peter scribbles it down) W-A-double T. That's right, yes.
Nigel: Well, actually, Timmy, the thing is, it's a bit private.
(A writer comes to the table.)
Timmy: Oh, you don't mind if Peter just sits in, do you? Only Peter's writing a book on me. Peter, you know Tony from the 'Mail', don't you?
Peter: Yes, we met in the Turkish bath yesterday.
Timmy: Super, super. Did it come up well in the writing yesterday?
Peter: Great, great, great.
Timmy: You took out the tummy references? (makes fatness signs)
Peter: Yes, I did.
Timmy: Super, super, super. Just to fill you in, this is Nigel Watt and we are having a little heart-to-hem. H-E-A-R-T. Smashing. Do go on, Nigel.
(They both start writing.)
Nigel: Well, well, the thing is, Timmy, um er...
(Timmy is smiling and posing. Nigel stops and looks. There is a photographer, hovering.)
Timmy: Do carry on, it's the 'TV Times', only they syndicate these photographs to America. Would you mind if we just er... (grabs him by the hand and poses hearty friendship photo) Super, super. One over here, I think, Bob. A little smile, please, smashing, smashing. Feel free, Bob, to circulate, won't you. Do go on, this is most interesting.
Nigel: Well, the thing is, Timmy, I'm a bit embarrassed.
Waiter: (coming to table) Oh, Mr Willimas, it's so nice to see you. Will you sign this for my little daughter, please?
Timmy: Hello, Mario. Super, wonderful. (signs) Just two lovely coffees, please. (Director comes in.)
Director: Sorry, sorry, Timmy. Can we just go from where Mario comes in, we're getting bad sound, OK?
Timmy: It's German television. Isn't it exciting, Nigel? They're doing a prize-winning documentary on me.
(We see a film camera and the whole crew gathered round.)
Clapper Boy: 'The Wonderful Mr Williams', scene 239, take 2.
Director: Action!
Timmy: (taking the cue, switches) Mario, how super to see you. How are the lovely family? Please give your little daughter this. (hands him a five pound note) Thank you. And just two lovely coffees, please.
Mario: Yes, sir.
Timmy: (to Nigel) Such a lovely waiter. Now, go on please, this is most interesting.
Nigel: Well ... er... as I was saying, Timmy, my wife's gone... gone. (close-up on him) I've got three children and I'm at my wits' end. No job, no insurance, no money at all. I'm absolutely fiat broke, I just don't know where to turn. I... I'm absolutely at the end of my tether. You're my only chance. Can you help me, please, Timmy?
(He looks up, Timmy isn't there. Timmy comes bounding back.)
Timmy: Sorry, I was on the phone to America. It's been super having this lovely little chat. We must do this again more often. Er... will you get the toffees? I'm afraid I must dash, I'm an hour late for the Israeli Embassy. (there is a shot; Nigel slumps over the table, gun in his hand) Er... did you get that shot all right, sound?
Sound Man: (off screen) Yes, fine.
Timmy: It... it wasn't a bit too wicked, was it? I mean, it wasn't too cruel?
Tony and Peter: No, no, no. It was great.
Timmy: No, super... well, er... I think it shows I'm human, don't you?
Tony and Peter: Yes, great.
Timmy: Super, super. Well, the charabanc's here. Go on, everybody. Bye. (he waves)
(They all troop off after him. Theme music starts to come up, we pull back and see the camera set-up. Credits start to roll:)
Voice Over: Timmy Wilhams' Coffee Time' was brought to you live from Woppi's in Holborn.
(Credits continue to roll:)
THEME SCRIPT BY (enormous letters) TIMMY WILLIAMS
ENTIRELY WRITTEN BY (enormous letters) TIMMY WILLIAMS
ADDITIONAL MATERIAL BY: (these go straight through very fast)
PETER WRAY
LEN ASHLEY
GEOFFREY INGERSOLL
GEORGE HERBERT
HARRY LOWALL
RALPH EMERSON
HATTY STARR
FRANK PICKSLEY
JOHN STAMFORD
SHELLEY BUNHEUR
MALCOLM KERR
JAMES BEACH
ALAN BAILEY
BRIAN FELDMAN
STIRLING HARTLEY
ADRIAN BEAMISH
GUY WARING
MARK TOMKINS
SIDNEY SMITH
RICHARD HOVEY
EDMUND GOSSE
JONATHAN ASHMORE
BILL WRIGHT
ARTHUR FULLER
RICHARD SAVAGE
MICHAEL WHITEMORE
BUDGE RYAN
CEDRIC HAZLETT
TERRY JONES
MICHAEL PALIN
JOHN GAYNOR
GEORGE COLEMAN
SAMUEL SPURGEON
THOMAS MASSINGER
STEPHEN DAVIS
WALTER CHAPMAN
REGINALD MARWOOD
DAVID GOSCHEN
PETER SCHULMAN
DENNIS FRANKEL
DAVID ROBINSON
PAUL RAYMOND
JOHN WILLDER
JOHNNY LYNN
JOE SHAW
SIMON SMITH
MONTY PYTHON
MICHAEL LAPIN
SYDNEY LOTTERBY
IAN MATHERSON
HUMPHREY BARCLAY
BURT ANCASTER
KIRK OUGLAS
KEN SMITH
GEOFFREY HUGHES
BRIAN FITZJONES
MICHAEL GOWERS
JOHN PENNYCATE
PETER BAKER
NEIL SHAND
(Fade out.)
Interviewer: Good evening. I have with me in the studio tonight one of Britain's leading skin specialists - Raymond Luxury Yacht.
Raymond: That's not my name.
Interviewer: I'm sorry - Raymond Luxury Yach-t.
Raymond: No, no, no - it's spelt Raymond: Luxury Yach-t, but it's pronounced 'Throatwobbler Mangrove'.
Interviewer: You're a very silly man and I'm not going to interview you.
Raymond: Ah, anti-semitism!
Interviewer: Not at all. It's not even a proper nose. (takes it off) It's polystyrene.
Raymond: Give me my nose back.
Interviewer: You can collect it at reception. Now go away.
Raymond: I want to be on the television.
Interviewer: Well you can't.
First Man: Er, excuse me, I want to get married.
Registrar: I'm afraid I'm already married, sir.
First Man: Er, no, no. I just want to get married.
Registrar: I could get a divorce, I suppose, but it'll be a bit of a wrench.
First Man: Er, no, no. That wouldn't be necessary because...
Registrar: You see, would you come to my place or should I have to come to yours, because I've just got a big mortgage.
First Man: No, no, I want to get married here.
Registrar: Oh dear. I had my heart set on a church wedding.
First Man: Look, I just want you to marry me... to...
Registrar: I want to marry you too sir, but it's not as simple as that. You sure you want to get married?
First Man: Yes. I want to get married very quickly.
Registrar: Suits me, sir. Suits me.
First Man: I don't want to marry you!
Registrar: There is such a thing as breach of promise, sir.
First Man: Look, I just want you to act as registrar and marry me.
Registrar: I will marry you sir, but please make up your mind. Please don't trifle with my affections.
First Man: I'm sorry, but...
Registrar: That's all right, sir. I forgive you. Lovers' tiff. But you're not the first person to ask me today. I've turned down several people already.
First Man: Look, I'm already engaged.
Registrar: (agreeing and thinking) Yes, and I'm already married. Still we'll get round it.
Second Man: (entering) Good morning. I want to get married.
Registrar: I'm afraid I'm already marrying this gentleman, sir.
Second Man: Well, can I get married after him?
Registrar: Well, divorce isn't as quick as that, sir. Still, if you're keen.
Third Man: (entering) I want to get married, please.
Registrar: Heavens, it's my lucky day, isn't it. All right, but you'll have to wait until I've married these two, sir.
Third Man: What, those two getting married... Nigel What are you doing marrying him?
Registrar: He's marrying me first, sir.
Third Man: He's engaged to me.
Fourth Man: (big and butch) Come on, Henry.
Registrar: Blimey, the wife.
Second Man: Will you marry me?
Fourth Man: I'm already married.
(Cut to a photo of all five of them standing happily outside a house.)
Voice Over: Well, things turned out all right in the end, but you musn't ask how 'cos it's naughty. They're all married and living quite well in a council estate near Dulwich.
Cleese: (talking very fast, as do all the commentators): Hello, good evening and welcome to Election Night Special. There's tremendous excitement here at the moment and we should be getting the first results through any moment now. We're not sure where it will be from, it might be Leicester or from West Byfleet, the polling's been quite heavy in both areas. Ah, I'm just getting... I'm just getting... a buzzing noise in my left ear. Urgh, argh! (removes insect and stamps on it). And now let's go straight over to Leicester.
Palin: And it's a straight fight here at Leicester and we're expecting the result any moment now. There with the Returning Officer is Arthur Smith the sensible candidate and next to him is Jethro Q. Walrustitty the silly candidate with his agent and his silly wife.
Idle: (clears throat) Here is the result for Leicester. Arthur J. Smith...
Cleese: Sensible Party
Idle: ...30,612. (applause) Jethro Q. Bunn Whackett Buzzard Stubble and Boot Walrustitty...
Cleese: Silly Party
Idle: ...33,108. (applause)
Cleese: Well there we have the first result of the election and the Silly party has held Leicester. Norman.
Palin: Well pretty much as I predicted, except that the Silly party won. Er, I think this is largely due to the number of votes cast. Gerald.
Chapman: Well there's a big swing here to the Silly Party, but how big a swing I'm not going to tell you.
Palin: I think one should point out that in this constituency since the last election a lot of very silly people have moved into new housing estates with the result that a lot of sensible voters have moved further down the road the other side of number er, 29.
Cleese: Well I can't add anything to that. Colin?
Idle: Can I just say that this is the first time I've been on television?
Cleese: No I'm sorry, there isn't time, we're just going straight over to Luton.
Chapman: Well here at Luton it's a three-cornered contest between, from left to right, Alan Jones (Sensible Party), Tarquin Fin-tim-lim-bim-lim-bin- bim-bin-bim bus stop F'tang F'tang Olé Biscuitbarrel (Silly Party), and Kevin Phillips Bong, who is running on the Slightly Silly ticket. And here's the result.
Woman: Alan Jones...
Cleese: Sensible
Woman: ...9,112. Kevin Phillips Bong...
Cleese: Slightly Silly
Woman: Nought. Tarquin Fin-tim-lin-bin-whin-bim-lim bus stop F'tang F'tang Olé Biscuitbarrel...
Cleese: Silly
Woman: 12,441. (applause)
Cleese: Well there you have it, the first result of the election as the Silly Party take Luton. Norman.
Palin: Well this is a very significant result. Luton, normally a very sensible constituency with a high proportion of people who aren't a bit silly, has gone completely ga-ga.
Cleese: And we've just heard that James Gilbert has with him the winning Silly candidate at Luton.
Idle: Tarquin, are you pleased with this result?
Palin: Ho yus, me old beauty, I should say so. (Silly noises including a goat bleating).
Cleese: And do we have the swing at Luton?
Chapman: Er... no.
Cleese: (pause) Right, well I can't add anything to that. Colin?
Idle: Can I just say that this is the second time I've been on television?
Cleese: No, I'm sorry there isn't time, we're just about to get another result.
Palin: And this one is from Harpenden Southeast. A very interesting constituency this: in addition to the official Silly candidate there is an unofficial Very Silly candidate, in the slab of concrete, and he could well split the silly vote here at Harpenden Southeast.
Jones: Mrs Elsie Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
Cleese: Silly
Jones: 26,317 (applause). Jeanette Walker...
Cleese: Sensible Jones: 26,318...
Cleese: Very close!
Cleese: Very Silly
Jones: ...two.
Cleese: Well there you have it, a Sensible gain at Harpenden with the Silly vote being split.
Palin: And we've just heard from Luton that Tony Stratton-Smith has with him there the unsuccessful Slightly Silly candidate, Kevin Phillips Bong.
Idle: Kevin Phillips Bong. You polled no votes at all. Not a sausage. Bugger all. Are you at all disappointed with this performance?
Neil Innes: Not at all. As I always say:
Cleese: A very brave Kevin Phillips Bong there. Norman.
Palin: And I've just heard from Luton that my aunt is ill. Possibly gastro-enteritis, possibly just catarrh. Gerald.
Cleese: Right. Er, Colin?
Idle: Can I just say that I'll never appear on television again?
Cleese: No I'm sorry, there isn't time, we have to pick up a few results you may have missed. A little pink pussy-cat has taken Barrow-in-Furness -- that's a gain from the Liberals there. Rastus Odinga Odinga has taken Wolverhampton Southwest, that's Enoch Powell's old constituency -- an important gain there for Darkie Power. Arthur Negus has held Bristols -- that's not a result, that's just a piece of gossip. Sir Alec Douglas Home has taken Oldham for the Stone Dead party. A small piece of putty about that big, a cheese mechanic from Dunbar and two frogs -- one called Kipper the other not -- have all gone "Ni ni ni ni ni ni!" in Blackpool Central. And so it's beginning to look like a Silly landslide, and with the prospect of five more years' Silly government facing us we... Oh I don't want to do this any more, I'm bored!
Palin: He's right you know, it is a bloody waste of time.
Chapman: Absolute waste of time.
Palin: I wanted to be a gynaecologist...
The Album versions continue with Michael Palin moving into the The lumberjack Song