In the 5th century, as the once-mighty Roman Empire crumbled,
the soft underbelly of Western Europe lay invitingly exposed to the barbarian hordes to the East.
Alaric the Visigoth, Galseric the Vandal and Theodoric the Ostrogoth in turn
swept westward in a reign of terror.
But none surpassed in power and cruelty the mighty Attila the Hun.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's the 'The Attila the Hun Show'.
In the second quarter of the 5th century, the Huns became a byword for merciless savagery.
Their Khan was the mighty warrior Attila.
With his devastating armies he swept across Central Europe.
Oh darling, I'm home.
Hello darling. Had a busy day at the office?
Not at all bad. Another merciless sweep across Central Europe.
I won't say I'm glad to see you, but boy, am I glad to see you.
Hi, daddy.
Hi, Jenny, hi, Robby.
Hey, I've got a present for you two kids
in that bag.
I want you kids to get a-head.
Hear you are, Mr Hun!
Hi, Uncle Tom.
There's a whole horde of them marauding Visigoths
to see y'all.
And now for something completely different.
It's ...
Yes, it's Attila the Nun.
A simple country girl who took a vow of eternal brutality.
Nurse!
- Hello, Miss Norris. How are you? - Not too bad, thank you, doctor.
Yes, well I think I'd better examine you.
- What are they doing here? - It's all right, they're students.
Um... lights please, nurse.
Oh... and... er... music, too.
Breathe in ... out ...
in ... out...
Thank you, thank you. Charles Crompton, the Stripping Doctor.
And next, gentlemen and ladies, here at the Peephole Club for the very first time
a very big welcome for the Secretary of State for Commonwealth Affairs.
Good evening. Tonight I'd like to restate our position on agricultural subsidies,
and their effect on our Commonwealth relationships.
Now although we believe, theoretically, in ending guaranteed farm prices,
we also believe in the need for a corresponding import levy
to maintain consumer prices at a realistic level.
But this would have the effect of consolidating our gains of the previous fiscal year, prior to the entry.
But I pledge that should we join the Common Market
even maintaining the present position on subsidies
we will never jeopardize, we will
never compromise our unique relationship with the Commonwealth countries.
A prices structure related to any import charges
will be systematically adjusted to the particular requirements
of our Commonwealth partners,
so that together we will maintain a positive,
and mutually beneficial alliance in world trade and for world peace.
Thank you and goodnight.
Wasn't he marvellous?
The Secretary of State for Commonwealth Affairs!
And now gentlemen and ladies, a very big welcome please
for the Minister of Pensions and Social Security!
Yes, today in Britain there is a new wave of interest in politics and politicians.
Well, we're just in it for the lobbying, you know. We just love lobbying.
And the debates, you know a good debate is just... fabulous.
Well, I've been going with ministers for five years now and, you know...
I think they're wonderful.
- Oh yes, I like civil servants. - Oh yes, they're nice.
- I like the Speaker. - Oh yes.
I like Black Rod.
What do their parents think?
Well she's broken our hearts, the little bastard.
She's been nothing but trouble and if she comes round here again I'll kick her teeth in.
- Have you been talking to television again, dear? - Yes, I bloody told 'em.
- What about? - I dunno.
- Was it Reginald Bosanquet? - No, no, no.
- Did he have his head all bandaged? - No, it wasn't like that. They had lots of lights and cameras and tape recorders and all that sort of thing.
Oh, that'll be Ray Baxter and the boys and girls from 'Tomorrow's World'.
Oh, I prefer Reginald Bosanquet, there's not so many of them.
Oh - that'll be the ratcatcher.
- Hello - Mr and Mrs Concrete? - Yes.
Well, well, well, how very nice. Allow me to introduce myself.
I am Leslie Ames, the Chairman of the Test Selection Committee, and I'm very pleased to be able
to tell you that your flat has been chosen as the venue
for the 3rd test against the West Indies.
- Really? - No, it was just a little joke.
- Actually, I am the Council Ratcatcher. - Oh yes, we've been expecting you.
Oh, I gather you've got a little rodental problem.
Oh, blimey. You'd think he was awake all the night, scrabbling down by the wainscotting.
Um, that's an interesting word, isn't it? Wainscotting ... Wainscotting ...
sounds like a little Dorset village, Wainscotting.
We've been mentioned on telly!
- Now, where is it worst? - Down here. You can usually hear them.
No, that's sheep you've got there. No, that's definitely sheep. A bit of a puzzle, really.
Yeah, well, I mean it's (a) not going to respond to a nice piece of cheese and
- (b) it isn't going to fit into a trap. - Oh - what are you going to do?
Well, we'll have to look for the hole.
- Oh yeah. There's one here. - No, no, that's mice.
Ah, this is what we're after.
- Excuse me, is the 3rd test in here? - No - that was a joke - a joke!
Right. I'm going in the wainscotting.
They said it again.
I'm going to lay down some sheep poison.
- Aagh. Ooh! It's got a gun! - Blimey.
Normally a sheep is a placid, timid creature, but you've got a killer.
It's an entirely new strain of sheep,
a killer sheep that can not only hold a rifle but is also a first-class shot.
But where are they coming from, professor?
That I don't know. I just don't know.
I really just don't know.
I'm afraid I really just don't know.
I'm afraid even I really just don't know.
I have to tell you I'm afraid even I really just don't know.
I'm afraid I have to tell you... Thank you.
I don't know. Our only clue is this portion of wolf's clothing
- which the killer sheep ... - ... was wearing ...
- ... in yesterday's raid on Selfridges. - I'll carry out tests on it straight away, professor.
Hello, is the third test in here, please?
Professor, there are some cricketers in the laboratory.
This may be even more serious than even I had at first been imagining.
What a strange... strange line.
There's no time to waste, get me the Chief Commissioner of Police.
No, no, on the phone.
Look of fear!
Another strange line. Look out, Miss Carter Oil!
- What is it? What have you seen? - Look - there, in the doorway.
Arthur X! Leader of the Pennine Gang!
Nobody move!
Put plan A into operation. Move out!
Next, Basil, you and the kid. Move!
Ok boys, this time we go for the heavy stuff.
But soon the killer sheep began to infect other animals with its startling intelligence.
Pussy cats began to arrange mortgages, cocker spaniels began to design supermarkets...
And parrots started to announce television programmes.
It's 8 o'clock and time for the News.
Good evening. Here is the news for Parrots.
No parrots were involved in an accident on the M1 today
when a lorry carrying high-octane fuel was in collision with a bollard.
That is a bollard and not a parrot.
A spokesman for parrots said he was glad no parrots were involved.
The Minister of Technology today met the three Russian leaders
to discuss a £4 million airliner deal.
None of them went in the cage, or swung on the little wooden trapeze
or ate any of the nice millet seed yum, yum.
That's the end of the news, now our programs for parrots continue with part 3 of 'A Tale of Two Cities',
specially adapted for parrots by Joey Boy.
The story so far, Dr. Manette is in England after 18 years in the Bastille.
His daughter Lucy awaits her lover Charles Darney, who we have just learned
is in fact the nephew of the Marquis de St Evremond,
whose cruelty had placed Manette in the Bastille.
Darney arrives to find Lucy tending her aged father.
'Allo, 'allo...
And while that's going on, here is the news for gibbons. No gibbons were involved in...
And while that's going on, here from Westminster is a parliamentary report for Humans.
In the debate, a spokesman accused the goverment of being silly and doing not at all good things.
The member accepted this in the spirit of healthy criticism,
but denied that he had ever been naughty with a choir boy.
Angry shouts of 'What about the Watermelon then?' were ordered then
by the speaker to be stricken from the record and put into a brown paper bag in the lavvy.
Any further interruptions would be cut off and distributed amongst the poor.
For the Government, a front-bench spokesman said the Agricultural Tariff would have to be raised, and he fancied a bit.
Futhermore, he argued, this would give
a large boost to farmers, and a lot of fun for him, his friends, and Miss Moist of Knightsbridge.
From the back benches there were opposition shouts of 'Postcards for sale'
and a healthy cry of 'Who likes a sailor then?' from the minister without portfolio.
Replying, the Shadow Minister said he could no longer deny the rumors,
but he and the Dachshund were very happy.
And in any case he argued Rhubarb was cheap, and what was the harm in a sauna bath?
The Minister of Technology met the 3 Russian leaders
today to discuss a £4 million airliner deal...
None of them were indigenous to Australia, carried their babies in pouches, or ate any
of those yummy Eucalyptus leaves. Yum Yum!
Thats the news for wombats, and now Attila the Bun!
Well that's all for Attila the Bun, and now - idiots!
Arthur Figgis is an idiot. A village idiot.
Tonight we look at the idiot in society.
Well I feel very keenly that the idiot is a part of the old village system,
and as such has a vital role to play in a modern rural society, because you see
Ooh ar thankee, Vicar.
There is this very real need in society for someone
whom almost anyone can look down on and ridicule.
And this is the role that...
Thank you, Mrs Thompson...
this is the role that I
and members of my family have fulfilled in this village for the past 400 years...
Good morning, Mr Jenkins, ICI have increased their half-yearly dividend, I see.
Yes, splendid.
That's Mr Jenkins - he's another idiot.
And so you see the idiot does provide a vital psycho-social service for this community.
Oh, excuse me, a coach party has just arrived. I shall have to fall off the wall, I'm afraid.
Arthur takes idiotting seriously.
He is up at 6 o'clock every morning working on special training equipment designed to keep him silly.
And of course he takes great pride in his appearance.
Like the doctor, the blacksmith, the carpenter,
Mr Figgis is an important figure in this village
and, like them, he uses the local bank.
Yes, we have quite a number of idiots banking here.
What kind of money is there in idioting?
Well nowadays a really blithering idiot can make anything up to £10 000 pounds a year
if he's the head of some big industrial combine.
But of course, the more old-fashioned idiot still refuses to take money.
He takes bits of string, wood, dead budgerigars,
sparrows, anything, but it does make the cashier's job very difficult;
but of course they're fools to themselves because the rate of interest over 10 years
on a piece of moss or a dead vole is almost negligible.
Mr Brando. Hollywood on the phone.
I'll take it in the office.
But Mr Figgis is no ordinary idiot.
He is a lecturer in idiocy at the University of East Anglia.
Here he is taking a class of third-year students.
After three years of study these apprentice idiots
receive a diploma of idiocy,
a handful of mud
and a kick on the head.
But some of the older idiots resent the graduate idiot.
I'm a completely self-taught idiot.
I mean... nobody does that anymore. Anybody who did that round here would be laughed off the street.
No, nowadays people want something wittier.
Kevin O'Nassis works largely with walls.
You've got to know what you're doing. I mean, some people think I'm mad.
The villagers say I'm mad, the tourists say I'm mad.
Well I am mad, but I'm naturally mad. I don't use any chemicals.
But what of the idiot's private life? How about his relationship with women?
Well I may be an idiot but I'm no fool.
But the village idiot's dirty smock and wall-falling
are a far cry from the modern world of the urban idiot.
What kinds of backgrounds do these city idiots come from?
I can't remember but I've got it written down some where.
Daddy's a banker. He needed a wastepaper basket.
Father was Home Secretary and mother won the Derby.
The headquarters of these urban idiots is here in St John's Wood.
Inside they can enjoy the company of other idiots
and watch special performances of ritual idioting.
Well left.
Well played.
Well well.
Well bred.
Good afternoon and welcome to Lords on the second day of the first test.
So far today we've had 5 hours batting from England and already they're nought for nought.
Cowdrey is not out nought. Naughton is not in. Knott is in and is nought for not out.
Naughton of Northants got a nasty knock on the nut in the nets last night but it's nothing of note.
Next in is Nat Newton of Notts.
Not Nutring - Nutting's at nine, er, Nutring knocked neatie nighty knock knock...
anyway England have played extremely well for nothing, not a sausage,
in reply to Iceland's first innings total of 722 for 2 declared, scored yesterday disappointingly fast in only 21 overs
with lots of wild slogging and boundaries and all sorts of rubbishy things.
But the main thing is that England have made an absolutely outstanding start so far,
- Peter? - Splendid. Just listen to those thighs.
And now it's the North East's turn with the Samba. Brian.
Rather. I'm reminded of the story of Gubby Allen in '32...
Oh, shut up or we'll close the bar.
And now Bo Wildeburg is running up to bowl to Cowdrey, he runs up, he bowls to Cowdrey...
... and no shot at all. Extremely well not played there.
Yes, beautifully not done anything about.
A superb shot of no kind whatsoever.
I well remember Plum Warner leaving a very similar ball alone in 1732.
Oh shut up, long nose.
And now it's Bo Wildeburg running in again to bowl to Cowdrey, he runs in.
He bowls to Cowdrey, and no shot at all, a superb display of inertia there...
- That's the end of the over, and drinks. - Gin and tonic please.
No, no, the players are having drinks.
And now, what's happening? I think Cowdrey's being taken off.
Yes, Cowdrey is being carried off. Well I never. Now who's in next,
it should be number 3, Natt Newton of Notts. Get your hand off my thigh, West...
No I don't think it is... I think it's er, it's the sofa.
No it's the Chesterfield! The green Chesterfield is coming in at number 3 to take guard now.
I well remember a similar divan being brought on at Headingley in 9 BC against the darkies.
Oh, shut up, elephant snout. And now the green Chesterfield has taken guard
and Iceland are putting on their spin dryer to bowl.
The spin dryer moves back to his mark, it runs out to the wicket, bowls to the table...
a little bit short but it's coming in a bit there and it's hit him on the pad.
And the table is out, leg before wicket.
That is England nought for one.
And now we leave Lords and go over to Epsom for the 3 o'clock.
Well here at Epsom we take up the running with 50 yards of this mile and a half race to go
and it's the wash basin in the lead from WC Pedestal. Tucked in nicely
there is the sofa going very well with Joanna Southcott's box making a good run from hat stand on the rails, and the standard lamp is failing fast
but it's wash basin definitely taking up the running now being strongly pressed by
At the post it's the wash basin from WC then sofa, hat stand, standard lamp and lastly Joanna Southcott's box.
Open the box! Open the box!
And could we have the next contender, please?
- Good evening, madam, and your name is? - Yes, yes...
- And what's your name? - I go to church regularly.
Jolly good, I see, which prize do you have particular eyes on this evening?
- I'd like the blow on the head. - The blow on the head.
- Just there. - Jolly good. Well your first question for the blow on the head this evening is:
What great opponent of Cartesian dualism
resists the reduction of psychological phenomena to physical states?
- I don't know that! - Well, have a guess.
- Henri Bergson. - Is the correct answer!
- Ooh, that was lucky. I never even heard of him. - Jolly good.
I don't like darkies.
Ha ha ha. Who does?
And now your second question for the blow on the head is: What is the main food that penguins eat?
- Pork luncheon meat. - No.
- Spam? - No, no. What do penguins eat? Penguins.
Penguins? I hate penguins.
- They eat themselves. - No, no, what do penguins eat?
- Horses! ... Armchairs! - No, no, no. What do penguins eat?
- Oh, penguins. Cannelloni. - No.
Lasagna, moussaka, lobster thermidor,
escalopes de veau à l'estragon avec endives gratinées with cheese.
No, no, no, no. I'll give you a clue.
- Ah, Brian Close. - No.
Brian Inglis, Brian Johnson, Bryan Forbes.
- Nanette Newman. - No. What swims in the sea and gets caught in nets?
- Henri Bergson. - No.
Goats. Underwater goats with snorkels and flippers. A buffalo with an aqualung.
- Reginald Maudling. - Yes, that's near enough. I'll give you that.
Now, Mrs Scum, you have won your prize, do you still want the blow on the head?
- Yes, yes. - I'll offer you a poke in the eye.
- No! I want a blow on the head. - A punch in the throat? - No.
- All right then, a kick in the kneecap? - No.
- Mrs Scum, I'm offering you a boot in the teeth and a dagger up the strap? - Err...
(Blow on the head! Take the blow on the head!) - No, no. I'll take the blow on the head.
Very well then, Mrs Scum, you have won tonight's star prize, the blow on the head.