Hello, I'm now going to just flip through some magazines.
Er, this is Prima.
Er, what have we got here? We've got, well, obviously, Time magazine.
Er, this is Woman's Own.
And here we have Essentials, for bright ideas.
Er, yes, I'm now going to go and see
the person who first had the idea of putting leaflets in magazines.
Bye!
My dear boy!
Come in, come in, come in, come in.
Don't mind Clothilda, she gets a little excited when she sees strange men.
This is Number 43 Cheyne Square, is it?
Come through to my oubliette, my dear, and faîtes comme chez vous.
I shall mix you a little something devilish of my own devising.
A suspicion of Parfait Amour, a hint of orgeat,
a couple of cocktail cherries, some thick cream and of course a sprig of hyssop.
I call it my Moroccan Sunrise.
And believe me, it has caused many a son of Morocco to rise in its time.
Oh! I should stop myself. I should really.
Clothilda here will tell you that I do go on so sometimes.
Won't you, Clotty dear?
I don't believe I caught your name?
-Nigel Carter. -Nigel Carter.
Nigel Carter.
There's a breath of something fine and ripe in that name,
something impossibly noble and yet thrillingly rotten.
Sit, Master Nigel Carter.
Sit, sit, sit, sit, sit.
It's called a lover's seat.
And I picked it up in San Gimignano in 1963. That and so much else besides.
You may keep your clothes on for the moment
while I weave my magic with my cocktail shaker.
Clothilda shall amuse you with stories of the gorgeous East.
Er, yes, it's, um… It's about the advertisement in this month's Model Aeroplanes.
Such a stimulating read. I never miss a copy.
Yes. Erm…
“Models wanted. Highest prices paid.
“Apply Simbold Cleobury, 43 Cheyne Square.” That is you, is it?
It is I.
My parents christened me Donald, a name entirely without hope.
Do you know, I think I'm going to give you two cocktail cherries.
One for each of your blue, blue eyes.
I usually pay £30 for my models. Does that seem fair, my dear?
Oh, yes, yes, more than reasonable. Yes. Erm…
I've got a Sopwith Camel, full RFC markings, scale 120th…
I brought a photograph.
A camel?
Yes. It's quite old but in very good condition.
And where do you keep this camel, Nigel Carter?
Well, in my room at home in Greenford.
And they dare to say, Nigel Carter, that the age of romance is dead.
I think you'll find it's the hyssop that makes all the difference.
I adore hyssop, don't you?
Very tasty.
So, what is the name of this camel who lives with you in your room in Greenford?
-Well, Sopwith. -Sopwith. Too heavenly!
Perhaps I shall paint you astride this Sopwith. It's not impossible.
But first I shall have you sprawled on the tiger skin,
firelight dancing on your naked, shivering thighs.
Have you modelled before?
Oh, yes, yes, all my life. Well, since I was four.
-Mercy, Nigel. Mercy! Since you were four! -Yes.
-My grandfather started me off. -So often the way.
We both ended up covered in glue.
Nigel, you amaze me.
-It was a Fokker. -It sounds it, Nigel.
In glue, you say?
Well, you need fear no such extravagances from me.
Perhaps a light brushing in oil to bring out your flesh tones but nothing more.
Er, would you like to see my jumbo?
Nigel, I should like to see your jumbo very much indeed.
There you are.
Nigel, this is a photograph of a large jet aeroplane.
Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know how that got in there. Er, there it is, there.
My, that is a jumbo, isn't it?
Now, clothes off and on to the tiger skin with you.
Righto.
Well, bring back hanging, I say. These tumble dryers are useless.
I was popping, absolutely popping to go,
so I said, “Do you mind if I use your toilet, love?”
And she would have let me, too. Only that Prince Philip told me to naff off.
Smell. Smell.
Smell. Smell!
Was that the sort of thing you meant?
Computers?
Bollocks, more like.
-Hello. -Good morning, sir. Can I do you for anything?
Yes, I rather hope you can.
Yeah. Tricks, novelties, jokes, games?
-Tricks, I think. -What about the tie snipper?
-Tie snipper? -Watch this.
-Yes? -It's a beauty that one, isn't it, sir?
-You cut off the end of my tie. -Yeah. Very popular, that one.
-Is it? -Hugely popular.
Hmm.
Not really a trick though, is it?
Yeah, you're right. It's more of a gag. You want a trick? I'll show you a trick.
Now then, put your finger in there.
-You sure about this? -Oh, yeah.
It's a beauty, this one. You'll love this one.
-Put your finger in there. -Right.
Right. I'll drop the blade like so…
My finger is chopped off.
Right. So that proves it works.
Now then, I'll take this cigar,
place that in there like so.
I drop the blade and, hey sesame, the cigar is intact.
Now, explain that.
Hmm. Have you got anything else?
Have a look at that.
A plastic dog turd, not even a very convincing one.
Ah! Fooled you. It looks like a plastic dog turd, but is, in fact, a real dog turd.
Mmm.
Well, I'll take a dozen.
How nice.
-How absolutely delightful. -Charming.
Quite charming. A charming restaurant.
-A charming, as you say, restaurant. -Really quite delightful.
I think one of my favourite really quite delightful restaurants.
Yeah, I agree. I do agree. I really do agree. I really do.
Are you ready to order?
-Did you say something? -No.
I thought I heard…
I rather think it may have been a member of the restaurant staff.
Ah. Ah.
Ah.
-Are you ready to order? -Yes, we are ready to order, thank you.
I shall have the melon followed by the roast lamb.
Melon, lamb. And you, sir?
I shall have soupe de poisson, I think followed by roast lamb also.
Fish soup, lamb.
-I'm so sorry. -Yes?
-What did you just say? -Fish soup, lamb.
Ah! Yes. Perhaps I didn't make myself absolutely clear.
I would actually like some soupe de poisson.
Soupe de poisson is fish soup.
-Oh, dear. -Oh, deary me.
-Was I speaking too quickly for you? -Yes, you seem to be a little bit confused.
-I asked for soupe de poisson. -Soupe de poisson.
Soupe de poisson is fish soup.
-No, no, no, no, no. -No, no, no, no.
No, I've obviously lost you.
Soupe de poisson is soupe de poisson.
-Do you see? -One thing cannot be another thing. All right?
Now, as you have gone to the trouble of advertising soupe de poisson
and I have gone to the great lengths of ordering soupe de poisson,
perhaps you would be kind enough to bring me some soupe de poisson. Thank you.
-And some mineral water. -Mineral water.
Thank you.
-What a delightful restaurant. -Absolutely delightful, yes.
-Mineral water. -Oh, dear.
-Oh, waitress. -Waitress.
Yes?
Can you remember what it was I asked you for?
I think I saw you write it down. Did you write it down?
Yes. Mineral water.
-Bravo. -Excellent, well done.
But you have brought a bottle of mineral water.
Do you see? These are called bottles.
We asked for mineral water.
Mineral water, just as you carefully wrote down on your small pad.
-How much mineral water? -Some.
Some mineral water, I think we asked for.
-Some. -Some?
Yes, however, we can check precisely how much we requested from you.
We do tape all our conversations against just such a contingency.
Get out the pair of you, you snotty wankers!
Ah, no. No.
-That was the restaurant we were in yesterday. -Yes.
-And what a delightful restaurant it was, too. -Quite delightful.
Here we are.
-And some mineral water. -Mineral water.
-There. Do you see? -Some mineral water.
-No mention of bottles. -Shall I bring it in a jug?
Yes, now, you see, young lady,
my suggestion to you is that you should bring us mineral water in a jug
when we ask for mineral water in a jug.
Till then, we'd be very grateful if you just brought us some mineral water.
-Thank you. -All right, thank you.
-What a delightful restaurant. -Simply charming restaurant.
-Thank you. -Thank you.
Delightful.
Now, I wonder, my dear, is there a gents near by? I'm rather desperate for a pee.
Well, there is one, but it was out of order earlier on. I'll just check for you.
-Charming waitress, do you see? -This is right, do you understand?
Yes, now, waitress. You must forgive my stupidity…
Well, you asked for it. Listen.
I'm rather desperate for a pea.
I see.
I was four when I saw my parents at it.
My father said he was mending the fuse that made Mummy's teeth work.
I believed him, too.
No, er, very happily married. Very happily married. Very happily married, indeed.
Er, my wife's away in Wales at the moment, visiting her sister.
This isn't going out on television, is it?
Who the hell are you?
Who is she? Go away.
Is God an Englishman? Well, that's a tricky one.
Theologians are pretty much undecided,
but I think it is universally accepted that he isn't Welsh.
Answer phones? Bollocks, more like.
Oh, that was lovely, Michael. Lovely. Absolutely lovely.
I wouldn't mind going there myself.
Well, hello, good morning and welcome to this week's episode of Tahitian Kitchen.
I'm Elizabeth Martin.
Last week, if you can be bothered to remember,
we looked at the preparation of main dishes, Tahitian style.
Well, this week I'm thinking of those who might be on a tighter sodding budget,
and so I shall be showing you what to do with those cheaper off-cuts,
the rarer offals and so on,
which, while they may not look so blasted, bloody-well tempting,
can often be as appetising and nutritious and arsingly well worth eating
as many of the dearer cuts.
Well, I have here two ears, which I've salted and marinated overnight.
They come from a young Anglia journalist
whom I slaughtered a couple of days ago just outside Biggleswade.
The important thing with ears is that they should always be fresh.
Now, what I'm going to do is I'm going to combine them.
I'm going to put them in a bowl
and I'm going to combine them with some testicles here.
These are from some Third Division football players.
I'm going to put them in with the ears.
And we're just going to add some fingers here, which come from a Rod Stewart fan.
They should all go in, including, particularly delicious, of course, the thumb.
Now, I'm just going to mix that in a nice Provençal sauce of tomato and garlic.
For those of you who are more interested in feet and toes,
I should urge you to remember that smaller is tastier.
These come from a Welsh heterosexual.
Welsh toes are always preferable if you can find them at this time of the year.
Remember, too, that toes are an absolutely ideal
fork supper treat or appetising dip idea.
-Michael, would you care to have a try? -Well, I'm game for anything, Elizabeth.
Don't I *** know it?
-Mmm. Delicious. -And they won't break the bank, either.
And talking of not breaking the bank, Wilson…
In this edition of My Favourite Pants,
we visit the home of former National Hunt jockey, Sir Clive Drummond.
Though thankfully my daughter Jennifer
now lives reasonably close at hand, so that's… That's all worked out pretty well.
Now these ones over here,
not exactly my favourite pants,
but ones, I think, with the greatest sentimental value.
Because, you see, these used to belong to Arnold Travis, the great Leicestershire fast bowler.
He gave them to me shortly before he died.
Now I can never look at these pants without thinking of Arnold
and that marvellous great booming laugh of his.
And of course the day he took five for 12 against Yorkshire.
Wearing these very pants, I think I'm right in saying,
although Arnold could never give me an absolute assurance of that.
Ah, now, these ones here… Again, not my favourite pants,
but… Because I've always been a lifelong Liberal, you see.
And these pants used to belong to Jimmy Westbrook
who stood as the Liberal candidate in the Newbury by-election of '61.
Lost his deposit, unfortunately, but fought a marvellous campaign
and was admired by everyone who knew him.
And he gave me these pants
after the Liberal Party Conference the following year.
And he said that if I ever wanted to go into politics,
I ought to wear these pants.
I never did, of course, but a marvellous thought.
Now, the pants I most like to wear on a day-to-day basis are these ones.
Marks and Spencer, so nothing very fancy.
But, you know, I always say there's little point in a fancy pant.
You know, give me a…
Give me a straight no-nonsense Marks and Spencer pant,
and I'm as happy as a sandboy, you know.
These pants really are the ideal working or leisure pant,
equally at home in town or country.
Truly a pant for all seasons.
Yeah. Oh, good Lord, now, here…
I'd quite forgotten about these. Now there's a…
There's a very funny story attached to these pants.
But it must have fallen out. It was stapled into the gusset there.
I can't think what would have happened to that.
Oh, now, yes. Now, look at this.
These ones, now these really are the Rolls-Royce of pants.
These were made by Wellard's of Bishop's Stortford,
who made pants for, well, just about everyone you can think of.
They're custom made, as you can see.
You put these on and you feel like a maharaja. You really do.
In fact, I often think it's a bit of a crime to put trousers on over these ones.
Yeah, yes…
Quite often I'll put these on outside my trousers
and, you know, walk up and down the High Street just admiring them in shop windows and so on.
And let me tell you, they attract quite a lot of attention.
Now, these ones over here…
No, you… You can't lick the system.
You can give it a damn good fondling, though.
I gave up smoking in July 1985.
Just like that. Didn't cut down, didn't get acupuncture. I just plain stopped.
I've been in hell ever since.
Oh, no, I've… I'm afraid to say, I've never forgiven the Japanese.
To this day I refuse to have a Japanese car in the house.
Well, he was drinking so much low-alcohol beer that he was in danger of becoming a low-alcoholic.
Fax machines? Bollocks, more like.
Well, way to go, get seriously down to that.
Now it's time to crank it up and really boogie to some back-to-back fat beat.
Let's have ourselves a rocking good time with the Bishop and the Warlord.
Give me at least five.
♫ Yes, my baby turns some heads
♫ When she walks in through the door
♫ She's got red, red ruby lips
♫ And legs right down to the floor
♫ She walks just like a wild cat
♫ And she sings just like a dream
♫ Yes, my baby
♫ Well, she's the greatest thing that you've ever, ever seen
♫ I need the heat of your loving, baby
♫ You've got to burn with your desire
♫ Start smoking at the edges
♫ Set yourself on fire
♫ Oh, my baby is mine, mine, mine
♫ My baby is mine, all mine, all mine
♫ Set yourself on fire, my dear Set yourself on fire ♫
“Set yourself on fire.” Four words, Your Honour.
Four innocent words every bit as common in our everyday language
as “freedom” or “vitamin enriched”.
But you play those four words backwards and what do you have?
Erifnoflesruoytes.
But that isn't enough for these people. Oh, no.
No, they're smarter than that, because if you play “Erifnoflesruoytes” backwards,
you can clearly make out the words “Set yourself on fire.”
A distinct explicitous and unambiguoustical instruction to my client,
which she obeyed,
to pour a can of gasoline over her head and set fire to it,
causing untold physical and mental traumatisation.
Let me get this straight, Mr Sanchez.
You're saying that your client listened to the song…
-Grease My Gristle, Blow My Whistle. -Catchy title.
-And as a result she set fire to herself? -Precisely, Your Honour.
As a matter of interest, did she also grease her gristle and…
She certainly did, Your Honour, causing herself grievous internal bruisality.
That case comes to trial next month.
-Any other cases pending? -Yes, Your Honour, we have a suit of $700 million
against the rock group Queen
who caused my client to suffer a broken jaw by urging her to become champion of the world.
-In what? -Light-middleweight boxing.
$400 million against Frankie Goes to Hollywood
for instructioning her to relax and not do it.
Relax and not do what?
Relax and not apply the breaks of her automobile at a T-junction.
And finally $900 million against Jason Donovan.
-For what? -We haven't decided yet, Your Honour.
I see. Well, that makes $2 billion. Quite a substantial figure, Counselor.
Well, to be honest, Your Honour, my wife and I have seen a place down south
that we're kind of keen on.
It's, you know, space for the kids, weekends, that sort of thing.
-Oh, really? What's it called? -Paraguay.
That's nice.
Now, do you have any witnesses?
I certainly have. I call the defendant himself.
The self-styled clergyman of cool, Bishop of Attleborough.
Take the book in your right hand and say after me.
-I have no objection… -“I have no objection…”
-…to this trial being televised… -“…to this trial being televised…”
-…and subsequently being made… -“…and subsequently being made…”
…into a motion picture, book or stage musical, so help me God.
“…into a motion picture, book or stage musical, so help me God.”
Now then,
what is your name, sir?
-My name is… -Just answer the question “Yes” or “No”, please.
What is your name?
-Yes. -Yes?
-Yes. -Is that your real name?
-No. -“No”, is your real name?
-No. -“No”, it's not your real name?
-Yes… -Objection, Your Honour…
Objection overseen, Counselor.
Now, Mr Yes, you are the lead singer of the heavy metal band
The Bishop and the Warlord?
-That's substantially correct. -Substantially?
Well, of course being a bishop
means I have to spend a great deal of time within my own diocese
as well as attending council of synod meetings,
which means I have only limited amount of time to devote to the band.
-But you are, in essence, correct. -I am, in essence, correct.
I see, and when you look upon the poor wretched figure of my client, Mr Yes,
an innocent victim of your handiwork, how do you feel?
Your Honour, I really must stand up and make some pretence of earning my fee.
-Nice work, Counselor. -I say it again, how do you feel?
Well, most awfully sorry.
“Most awfully sorry.”
But it simply never crossed my mind that people could be told what to do so easily.
I mean, for instance, perhaps you know our second album,
May I Plant My Bulb in Your Window Box?
There was a song in that which I wrote called, Bake Me a Love Soufflé.
Now, surely you're not suggesting that anybody would go to such…
Love soufflé. One baked by my client.
Sadly, at no personal injury to herself.
Mr Yes, in the light of this evidence I have no choice but to find for the plaintiff.
Do you have anything to say before I name the amount?
-Well, yes, Your Honour. One thing does occur. -Yes?
Perhaps I can put it this way.
-One, two, three. -Objection!
♫ Woman!
♫ Woman, drop your case
♫ Woman! Woman, get out of my face!
♫ Woman, forget the whole thing ever happened
♫ Drop those charges and pay my legal costs
♫ Woman, you know this case is as good as lost
♫ Woman, get out of my life
♫ Woman, get out of my face
♫ Get out of my face, woman Get out of my face ♫
Your Honour after due consultation with my client she has asked me to say
that she would like to drop all charges, pay all the legal costs and, er…
She would also like permission to get out of his face.
Such permission is so engranted, Mr Sanchez.
Case dismissulated. Next case.
The state would like to call Mr Tony Inchpractice.
Hello, I'm Tony Inchpractice.
Welcome to Flying a Light Aeroplane Without Having Had Any Formal Instruction With.
Today I shall be flying a light aeroplane without having had any formal instruction
with Sir Peter Winstanton, former Chairman of the National Trust
and now Maître de Danse at the Galliard Ballet Company.
-Hello, Sir Peter. -Good afternoon, Johnny.
-No, my name isn't Johnny. -Never said it was.
Right. Now, Sir Peter, have you ever flown a light aeroplane before?
-Never have, Johnny, never, no. -Never had any lessons?
Oh, I've had lessons, yes, yes…
-History, Geography, English, Maths… -Yes, but not in flying?
-Flying, no. -No, and I've never flown before.
-Is this something you've always wanted to do? -Not particularly.
So when you rang up I absolutely leapt at the chance.
-Right. Well, Sir Peter, shall we? -Right.
I mean, I don't know if you…
Actually, would it be all right if I sat in the front? Because I tend to get a bit sick…
-It's fine by me, yes. -…if I'm in the back.
-Absolutely, carry on. -Right.
Put… Yes, that's it.
Now…
Sir Peter, can I begin by asking you about your early childhood influences?
Your parents died when you were very young,
and you were brought up by an aunt in a boarding house on the South Coast, I believe.
Yes, that's right.
So, what… What exactly do we do now?
Haven't got the faintest idea, I'm afraid.
-Ah. -It's, I suppose…
-Start the, um… -Mmm.
You know, in my Saab, it won't start unless you're in park.
I do say. Well, let's try a few knobs.
So, presumably, yours must have been rather a lonely childhood?
-Hello! That was a stroke of luck. -Well done!
Tell you what. Have you got any levers in the back?
-Any what? -Levers in the back.
No, I tell you what. I have got a hat, though.
-A hat? -Yes.
-Oh, I've got a hat. -Hats on?
-Hats on, good idea. -Right.
Oh, what the hell? I'll just pull everything.
Oh, hello! Looks like we're off.
-I'll just head for the trees, shall I? -Fine with me, Sir Peter.
Now, Sir Peter, can I ask you?
You've often said that your wife
has been an important source of encouragement in your career.
How did you actually come to meet?
Well, there's a story behind that, actually.
-Is there? I thought there might be. -Yes.
-I went to a fancy dress party in Bournemouth… -Oh, how nice.
…and I was dressed as an airmail parcel.
I then got posted overseas.
-Right. -And I met her in Bombay.
-Bombay? -Bombay. And…
Was it love at first sight, do you mind me asking?
-I adored Bombay. It's a lovely city. Lovely city. -Right.
Oh! Hello. Oh, I thought for a moment we were off.
Well, I have to say, Sir Peter, I think you're doing enormously well.
-Well, beginners' luck, I think. -Yes.
-We're definitely off the ground now. -It really is splendid.
How about that?
Oh, hello? Oh, no, there go my car keys.
Oh, no, you haven't, have you?
I hope they don't land on the button or they'll open all the car doors automatically.
-That's what happens. -Yes.
Now, Sir Peter,
how and when did you come to join the National Trust?
Well, it was a strange thing, I…
This looks like it's… Is it landing, do you think?
-Well, it's as near as one can get I suppose. -Yes, yes.
So what happened was… Oh! -Oh! Hello.
I wrote a letter to the National Trust group
-asking if I could join them. -Yes. Do you mind not actually doing this?
-This bouncing. -Are you getting a bit queasy?
Just a little bit queasy, yes. -You in the back, of course.
So sorry. -Oh, my word.
So, Sir Peter, where to from here?
Well, I think probably the Bell at Aston Clinton for a spot of tea.
Jolly nice, too.
Testicles? Bollocks, more like.
Well, that's about it for this week.
Indeed that's about it for this series.
If you've enjoyed this series of A Bit of Fry & Laurie,
you may like to know that the BBC
are bringing out some special commemorative oven gloves
in the shape of special commemorative oven gloves.
And for those of you who like to get out into the garden…
-Hugh. -I'm sorry.
I do beg your pardon. I shouldn't have said that.
All right. So until we meet the next time,
and who knows where or under what circumstances,
there's just time for me to say, it's good night from me.
-And it's good night from me. -And it's good night from me.
And it's good night from me.
And we're going to leave you now with our final cocktail recipe.
And this one's called Berliner Credit Sequence.
For this you will a need a television set,
the names in German of all the people
who go to make up a faintly amusing television series
and a plate of tomato sandwiches.
Now, I'm going to ask the master magician of handcraft himself,
Mr Music, for the very last time,
to weave a dizzying, jazz pattern of sound.
As I say for the final time,
please, Mr Music, will you play?