The two Ronnie. For over two decades, they were the weekly highlight of
night television.
The jewel in the crown of British light entertainment.
And the BBC's most highly prized comedy show.
Their shows were loved by millions.
And the Ronnie's winning cocktail of characters, sketches and songs brought
huge critical acclaim alongside a massive viewing audience.
In 1986, Ronnie Barker stunned the world of show business by unexpectedly
announcing his retirement.
The two Ronnies' special for Christmas Day in 1987 would be their last show
together. But just before that announcement, the two Ronnies made their
series together, not for the BBC, but nearly 11 ,000 miles away in Sydney,
Australia.
The programmes they made there have never been seen here, but tonight you'll
see, for the first time, recently discovered footage from the two Ronnies'
produced down under.
Most of the sketches were written just for this series.
A few were new reworkings of their favourite material first performed in
Britain.
But none of these two Ronnie's performances have been screened in full
British television before.
There are the timeless characters we always loved.
Moments that showcase the brilliance of Ronnie Barker.
Good evening.
I am the president of the Royal Society for the Relief of Sufferers from
Pismarantiation.
And routines capturing the dazzling charisma of Ronnie Corbett.
Sadly no more. I'm afraid he has finally been summoned to that great pantomime
in the sky.
He's gone to work for Qantas.
With sketches playing unedited at their original intended length, this is The
Two Ronnies Unseen.
The Two Ronnies' love affair with Australia began in 1979.
when they were invited to tour their hit London Palladium show to Sydney and
Melbourne. They did this absolutely fabulous show at the Palladium. Anyway,
said, would you fancy doing this in Australia?
So the whole show was packed up and we went to Australia for a year.
The two Ronnies were already big stars down under, where their BBC shows had
been screened for years.
Now, the lure of the Aussie sunshine and a chance to live the Australian
lifestyle for a whole year proved to be irresistible for both the Barker and
Corbett families.
Ah, we fell in love with Australia straight away.
Where we lived was a beautiful house right on the harbour. So, yeah, the pool
went out.
And then there was the wooden wharf. And then we did used to jump into the
harbour and swim down the road to the neighbours.
We saw a lot more of the corvettes when we were in Australia than we ever did in
England, which was absolutely lovely because we all got on so well. It was a
golden time.
The sun, the sea, the sand, the outside, you know, all the things that you don't
get in North London.
In addition to the shows with Ronnie Barker, Ronnie Corbett fulfilled some
engagements while in Australia, including a special night that led to a
fortuitous meeting.
Ron did his act at the...
Sydney Opera House, which was, you know, quite a big happening.
And David Frost was there, and he bought Kerry Packer. He owned Channel 9.
So that's how he met Kerry Packer.
Packer and Corbett became friendly in the years that followed. And then in
while on his own Australian tour, Ronnie had a brainwave.
How about doing a special series for Australia?
And I had a word with Ronnie Barker about it and Ronnie was up for it. He
what a good idea.
Kerry Packer asked Ronnie C to go to his house the next day and Ronnie C had
this idea about the two Ronnies doing an Australian TV series.
And apparently Kerry Packer on the spot went, yes, we want it.
Kerry Packer's Channel 9 was Australia's number one TV network in the mid -80s.
Home of the biggest shows and the brightest stars, including now the Two
Ronnies. So sit back and enjoy the best of the Two Ronnies down under.
George? What?
If you had three wishes, what would you wish?
I'd wish for three more days.
How romantic are you? I mean, don't you ever just want to get up and go?
I would if I drank three more of these, yeah.
Travel.
Oh, travel, yeah, yeah. I like to travel, yeah.
Where do you want to travel to, then?
Well, I'll give you a clue. Yeah.
What is big and warm and friendly?
Eh?
What is big and warm and friendly?
Your missus, you mean?
Australia.
Australia. Oh, that's right. That would be nice. That really would be nice.
Do you believe which has come true, then?
Nice try there, isn't it?
George?
Sid?
You've still got two whizzies left.
Yeah?
Better wish for a couple to serve.
Eh?
Want some more beer?
Yes, I'll have a mouthful.
Oh, sorry, I only brought you a pint.
What is the difference between a pint and an eater? That's what I say. What's
the difference?
They've got an extermination here at the pub tonight.
What do you mean, extermination? Well, they're going to stay open an hour after
they shut.
That won't bother me. I'm off down to Pig and Whistle.
Oh, I never been down there.
How far is that?
Well, it's about four miles.
If you hurry, you can do it in two.
What's that? What's that letter you've been reading? That? That's a letter from
my girlfriend, that is. Oh, really?
Yeah. Nice.
Well, there's no writing on it. No, we're not speaking.
My girlfriend's got a job down the museum.
Oh, yeah.
Do you know there's a set of dinosaurs' bones in the museum which are two
million years old and three months?
How do you make that out?
Well, she's been there three months and they were two million years old.
Here,
have you seen them two skeletons down by the door in that museum?
Yeah. The big one's Nelson, you know. Oh, really?
Who's the little one? That's Nelson when he was a small boy.
Oh, this beer's terrible, you know. I'll be glad when I've had enough.
I'd be better off drinking milk.
Oh, don't want to drink milk.
Don't want to drink milk. Milk's very dangerous, you know. My brother died
drinking milk. Really? Oh, the cow fell on him.
My other brother, my other brother, he died of women and drink. Did he? Who was
that? Couldn't get either, so he shot himself.
What's the time?
I don't know. I haven't got a watch. Oh, I have.
What are you asking me the time for when you've got your watch on your wrist
there? Well, I don't want to wear it out. Keep looking at it.
Has he got a guarantee, that watch? No, no. But the man in the shop was very
nice. He said if ever I had any trouble with it, all I've got to do is phone him
up and he'd tell me what time it is.
I had trouble with my budget last week. Trouble? What kind of trouble? It
drowned it. Oh, dear.
I told you not to keep it in that goldfish bowl.
It's kept in the birdcage like everyone else.
I did, didn't I? But the water kept running out.
My dog died, you know. When was that?
Well, if he'd lived till tomorrow, he'd be dead a fortnight.
I've had that dog since a week before he was born.
How can you have a dog a week before he's born?
He was born a week early.
My sister had a baby this week. Girl or a boy? Oh, she's a girl. Boys can't have
babies.
I mean, was the baby a girl or a boy? Oh, I don't know. Oh, so you don't know
whether you're a hunkle or a heart then, do you?
What are you going to buy for a christening present, then? Well, I'm
buy a pram. Oh, yeah? A new pram. I'm going to buy it on the new higher
scheme. What's that?
100 % down and nothing a week.
Oh,
you know, when I was born, I only weighed two and a half pounds, you know?
that's terrible, that is. Did you live? Oh, yeah.
You should see me now.
Here, I'll tell you something.
I've got 200 more bones in my body than you have.
How is that?
I had a kipper for me breakfast.
We've had ten pints here.
Yeah. Shall we go down and have one at the Swan? No, I can't wait. I'm going to
have one behind the bushes.
It's for two Ronnies unseen.
showcasing their work performed in Australia and seen here now for the
time. I'm afraid we're cornered, Corporal. Yes, sir. We should be lucky
out of here alive.
Oh, later than that, sir, I should wonder.
What? Later than five, sir. Probably half -half, sir.
I said lucky to get out alive, not to get out by five.
Oh, I'm sorry, sir. It's the guns, sir.
Guns, I can't hear you properly, sir. You see, with the guns. I know, I know.
Are we cut off from the other, sir? Yes, I'm afraid we are.
Yes, sir.
Listen, we can either...
low till morning, or you can climb to a high vantage point and see if you can
spot the enemy.
What do you say?
Thank you very much. No, no, no, no, no, no. What do you think of me?
Oh, well, it's up to you, sir.
I think you'd better get up a tree and risk it. Oh, thank you. I could just do
with one, sir. One what?
A cup of tea and biscuit.
Get up a tree and risk it, man.
Sorry, sir, I'm sorry.
Well, go on, make a start.
Make a start, sir. Make a start.
Make a start. What's the matter with you? Do I have to repeat every stupid
little word?
What? No need to be personal, sir?
What?
Calling me that what you did, sir?
I said stupid little word.
Oh, sorry, sir.
Sorry.
Well, go on, get on with it.
Sir, sir, I can't climb trees.
What? I can't climb trees. Never could.
Ever since I was a small boy at Wimbledon. You never told me that.
You were a poor boy at Wimbledon.
I love tennis.
What? There is the cook, sir. Tennis, ma 'am, tennis.
Oh, never mind all that. Listen, up there on the ridge, there is a tank.
we've got to go up and recapture it, right? Yes, sir.
But watch out for snipers.
Anywhere near a tank is a hot spot. Oh, I don't think we are, sir. What?
Anywhere near a Lancashire hot pot, sir.
Hot spot? I said hot. What's the matter with you? Are you obsessed with food, ma
'am? Sir.
Yes. I can't go, sir. What? I can't go. Why not? My gun's gone wonky, sir.
Well, it's only natural. So is mine. It's nerves, that's all it is.
Where are my guns? Oh, your gun. Oh, your gun. I'm sorry.
What's going on?
Well, sir, it was... It was in my trouser pocket. It went off half
Yeah, you'd better see Major when we get back to Calisley about that.
Well, I suppose I'd better go.
You all right, sir? No, of course I'm not all right.
I'm shot.
Well, it is hot, sir. We're all shot.
Shall I get the stretcher bearing, sir? No, no. Too late for that.
Just go and let me die in peace.
Yes, sir. Any gravy on it at all, sir?
What? Any gravy on your pie, please?
I said let me die in peace, not get me pie in peace.
Never mind, never mind, Corbin. You're not such a bad chap.
We haven't always seen eye to eye, or ear to ear, for that matter.
It's the gun, sir.
But at least, if you get out of this mess alive, they'll say I died saving an
ordinary man.
Save you what, sir?
An ordinary man.
Yes, sir, I will, sir. You will what?
When I get back to the mess, I'll save you a strawberry plant, sir.
Do you think that marriage is a lottery?
No. In a lottery, you do have a slight chance.
But you like women, don't you, eh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Just give me me pipe and the
great outdoors and a beautiful girl and you can keep the pipe and the great
outdoors.
Jill, that ain't stuffy to do with marriage, is it? That's just the
sex.
The what?
You know what the opposite sex is, don't you?
Yeah, it's that tart who lives across the road.
Talking of which, my sister -in -law has just had quads.
Oh, that's pretty rare, isn't it? Rare, it certainly is, yes.
Doctor says it only happens once in 1 ,600 ,000 times.
Blimey, so when has she ever found time to do the housework?
I am the president of the loyal society for the relief of sufferers from
pismorantiation.
For people who cannot say their worms correctly.
Or who use the wrong worms entirely, so that other people cannot underhand a
bird they are spraying.
It's just that you open your mouth and the worms come turbling out in one
second. And you dick -knock what you're thugging a bit.
And it's very distressing. I'm always looing it.
and it makes one feel unbumped a couple of times.
Especially when one's going about one's diddly tasks, slopping in the slooper
market for inkstands.
Only last wonk I approached the chuck -out point, and I showed the ghoul
the crash desk the contents of my trilly, and she said, she said, all
Grandad, shut him out. Well, of course, that's fine for the ordinary man in the
stoat, who has no dribble with his warts.
For someone like myself, it's worse than the kick in the jackstrap.
I mean, sometimes you get stuck on one letter, such as wobble you, you see. And
I said, well, I've got a tin of whoop, a woocumber, two packets of wheeze and a
wallflower.
And then she tried to make fun of me and said that would be whoop pounds, whifty
wee pen.
So I just said wobblers and walked out.
But you do see how dicky felt it is.
But help is at hand. The new society has been formed by our mumblers.
to help each other in times of ex -cream ices.
It is bald pismonunces unanimous.
Anyone can ball them up on the smelly phone at any tide of the day or noon.
24 flowers a spray, seven stays a creek, and you will come round and get drunk
with you.
For foreigners, there will be impertuitors who will all squeak many
such as Swedish, Turkish, Berkish, Jewish, gibberish and rubbish.
Membranes will be able to attend tight stool or heaving classes.
You'll learn how to grope with the many complicities of daily work.
Which brings me to the drain reason for squeaking to you tonight.
The society's first function as a body was a grand garden freight.
And we hope for many more bodily functions in the future.
The garden plate was held in the grounds of Sydney University.
And the guest of horror was the great American pipsinger, Manny Barilo.
The plate was opened by the External Affairs P. Minister, Mr. Andrew
Who gave us a few well -frozen worms to raise off the society's jerk and said
that in the creaks and stunts of thy head... we must all do our nut roast to
ensure that it sucks weed.
Then everyone visited the various stalls and abruzements, the rudeabouts, the
thingboats and the dodgers, and, of course, all the old favourites such as
coquish eye nuts, to try your length, guessing the weight of the cook and
tinning the pail on the wonky.
The occasion was great fun, and, in short, I think it can safely be said
all the men present and thoroughly good women were had all the time.
So please join our society.
Write to me, Dr.
Smallpith, the banner, Pope Moses, and I will send you some brieflets to browse
through and a brass badge to wear in your loophole. And a very good night to
all. Good night.
and I haven't seen you at the factory lately. Well, you've been all sick,
haven't you? No, no, well, I packed it in, didn't I? Oh, did you? Yeah.
Yeah, well, they wanted me to change my... What, change your hours?
No, change my... Change your habits, was it? No, change... Change your socks
tomorrow. No.
I changed my duties. Oh, your duties, did they? Yeah, well, I didn't want to
that. No, no. It was quite a cushy little number, you know. It was quite a
job. Yes, it was a lovely job. Thanks, John, thanks.
There you are. All the best. Cheers. Cheers, cheers. I never really know what
sort of job you did up there. What job did you do up there? Well, the same job
as I'd done for 20 years, actually. Oh, did you? Yeah, I always worked with...
What, with Pride?
No, with... With him recently? No, no, with... With your overcoat on.
I always worked with Harry Hawkins. Oh, Harry Hawkins.
Yeah. He used to always work with him. He used to give me his... His whole
and support. No.
What,
his athletic support?
No, he used to give me his ginger nuts.
Oh.
Yeah, he used to give me his ginger nuts, and I used to dip him in... In his
for him.
No, in the chocolate. Oh, the chocolate. Oh, I see. That was the job, was it?
That was the job. Oh, I see. Yeah, Harry and I made the only ginger nuts. Oh, I
see. Oh, right, yeah, yeah. Yeah, and then somebody realised, or thought, a
could do the job, a woman, you see.
So they decided to do that, and they put me on... Short time. No, on... What,
short cake?
No, no.
Sherbet fountains. Oh, that's a real messy job, the sherbet fountains.
that's... It gets everywhere.
Does it, yeah? Yeah. You know, you go home and start stripping off, and you
you've got a coating of sherbet all over the... All over the weekend.
Yeah.
And the wife don't like it. No, well, that makes it worse, but you can't
No, exactly, no.
Anyway...
Anyway, this woman, she decided that she didn't want to work with Harry Hawkins.
Oh, did she? She didn't like the way he handled his... His ginger nuts.
No,
his machinery.
Oh, his machinery.
Yeah, she thought he was... Was nuts.
No, she thought he was... What, ginger?
No, incompetent. Oh, incompetent.
I think so, so you went back with Harry then, did you? No, no, I decided I had
enough. Oh, did you? So I went back home, you know. Yeah. Then found the
was up... Up to her knees and so... No, no.
Up to her old tricks with the milkman.
No, she was up her mother's. Oh, up her mother's.
So I then and then... and thought, I'm going to go to the job centre. Oh, yeah.
I thought, go to the job centre, because it's a good job you're after. That is
the place to... To steer clear of. No.
No, they're quite good, some of them, you know. My brother -in -law went for a
job as a removal man.
Yeah. And within a week, they'd already given him a... A fortnight's holiday.
A fortnight's holiday.
A tea chest? No, no, no. No, a double hernia. Oh, no.
Yeah. So I went up to this job centre. Yeah, yeah.
And a very nice place, wasn't it? Yeah.
And they've got this girl there.
Yeah. Sitting behind a sort of grill.
Oh, yeah. And she's filing her... Filing her nails? No, no, filing her... What,
filing the bars, trying to get out with you? No, no, no.
Filing the jobs. Oh, filing the jobs. The jobs. Yeah. In the portfolio. Oh, I
see. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And she's very nice. Very big girl. Oh, big girl. Yeah,
yeah. And she's got these two... Yes, I'll get the picture.
Either side.
Well, they would be, wouldn't they?
And I mentioned the job. Yeah.
And they sprang up. Did they?
Yeah. What caused that, then? Well, I don't know the general excitement, I
suppose. Oh, really?
And then they came towards me. Did they really?
Yeah.
Anyway, these two... Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean. Yeah, yeah.
These two... What do you call them again? What do you call them?
Clarks. Oh.
I've got the... I've got the wrong picture entirely there.
So, these two clerks, they said that this girl was a trainee.
Trainee, basically, who had just got off the... Off the train?
No, no.
Off the course. Oh, off the course, of course, yes. Yeah, of course. And the
clerks that Dad mentioned to you, they said, if it's a job you're after, we
a vacancy. Oh. Yeah, because we were looking for someone with short... Short
legs. No, no.
We're short... Short shirts?
No, no, we're short... Shortcomings?
No.
We're shorthand and typing. Oh, I see.
He wanted someone with shorthand because they were... Shorthanded? No, no.
They were understaffed at the town hall. Oh, yes. So you never got the job.
Didn't get the job. Didn't get the job. Can't do it. So you're out of work? No,
not entirely. No, because there was another job. Another vacancy, which I
accepted. Oh, yeah. Yeah, so I'm working in the sweet... In the sweet factory,
you know. No, no.
In the city. Oh, yeah. In the sweet... Well, with a sweet smell of success, is
it? Well, hardly.
I'm in charge of the gents at Central Station.
I say, Humphrey, what is it, Godfrey?
Who is that terrible, ugly woman you were with today?
That was my sister.
Oh, of course, I should have noticed the resemblance.
Just got married, hasn't she?
Yes. And do you know, she's married a man whom people invariably take an
dislike to?
Why is that, do you think? It saves time.
They've just moved to Cheltenham, will they? She loves.
It's Cheltenham. She says in Cheltenham, breeding is everything.
Yes, well, we enjoy it in Kensington as well. So we have other interests.
The funny thing is, although he's a bully, an idler and a drunk, she intends
have 17 children by him.
Good grief, why on earth does she want to do that?
Well, she says she's hoping to lose him in the crowd.
Forgot my glasses.
Never mind, I forgot my glasses, never mind.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we are gathered here this evening to honour George and Gloria, who today
celebrate 20 years of marred bliss.
Married bliss.
21 years ago, George turned up.
with this beautiful and charming representative of New Pork.
Very far. Very far. New York.
Theirs have been a fairly stale romance.
A fairy tale romance.
He, a typical English country squirt. Squirt.
She, a struggling Broadway hooker.
Hooper. Hooper.
In other words...
A danger in the chorus.
George first saw her in the musical Hello Doggy.
And the moment the curtain was down, began to ravish her.
Lavish her with every attention.
Showering her with red noses and giving her germs.
Gems.
Till at last, at the altar, she said the words he'd been waiting to hear, I do,
and threw up.
Her career.
Oh, grew up her career.
Actually,
when George gave us the news, we were over the moron with delight.
Gloria, as we know, comes from a fine old American family.
Though her grandmother, we are told, was a kept woman.
No, a Kent woman, a Kent woman.
She herself, you will all agree, is a great lay. Lady.
Lady.
Only one word describes her. Skint. Same.
As lady of the manor, she never shirted her dirties.
Shirt her duties.
Visiting the tenants in their holes, in their homes, and tending to their warts.
Their warts.
Like her, Glorious looked on by all the sundry as a fiend, as a friend.
Oh, and I should never be forgiven if I vomited to mention her cooking.
The feathery lightness of her buns, and the split -second
timing of her rubber beans.
And, as we all know, after that delicious meal, her speciality, roast
chipolatas.
The whole meal was absolutely uneatable.
Unbeatable.
We now come to George, himself a bit of a crook, a cook.
Chalespear said, and I quite, one man in his time plays many
pants. And George certainly has had his share of girls. In fact, he was
considered at one time quite a wolf.
He was slimy then, slimmer then.
Always a faithful friend. He is a true toady.
He's a true toady.
He is as true today.
At heart, one of the yes -men of England. One of the yo -men of England.
I could go on all night.
Instead, I shall gum up by saying, there were never such a couple of sweeties.
George and Gloria, as we say at the Bridge Club, two aces who together are a
perfect pair.
I am a little bit excited because I have reason to believe that my new Channel 9
pay rise has just come through.
To be honest, my last pay rise was nearly six years ago when I stormed into
program controller's office and demanded that they pay me what I was worth.
$42 a week doesn't go very far.
Oh, my God, it is pathetic.
$42 a week when you consider that the producer upstairs is earning nearly
that.
So this week, I took a militant stand and put in a claim for a 5 % increase,
it's obviously shaken them up a bit because I have just had this top -level
delivered to me personally.
Actually, it's still a bit crumpled, you know.
Still a bit crumpled from where it was wrapped round the brick.
Let's see what it says here.
From the president of Channel 9 to Mr.
Robbie Cornett.
You see, right from the top.
At last I'm about to be treated with a little respect and deference, as befits
man of my professional status.
What is your game, squib face?
5 % pay rise. I should cocoa, Titchy.
Call yourself a comic. We could train a chimp to do what you do.
If you're a comic, I'll walk to Perth with a leaky water bag.
That's how I treat letters like that.
Particularly if they don't get laughed.
On to tonight's story.
which I have decided to tell as a mark of respect to my old uncle Brutus, who
one of the great characters of show business. For 25 years, his widow Twanky
a legend throughout Parramatta. But sadly no more. I'm afraid he has finally
been summoned to that great pantomime in the sky.
He's gone to work for Qantas.
No, he hasn't. That would be ridiculous. He is actually dead.
Now, to be honest, he was rather a comical -looking character with a very
face and an incredibly big pointed nose.
And when they died, they used his head as a sundial.
It's very interesting because his late brother, my late Uncle Horace, that was
also in pantomime, he spent 40 years playing Humpty Dumpty. And I remember
cremation was held up for nearly half an hour while someone went to fetch an egg
timer.
I've got a strange one. I had an uncle Gladys once.
Who had a nasty accent and a sawmill.
He was a world record holder. He was the only man who'd ever slid down Mount
Everest on a tin tray.
And they buried him where he came to rest.
Just outside Rooty Hill.
When I think of it, it's been quite a bad year for bad news, all told. I mean,
last Sunday morning, for instance, there we were all at home, taking things
easy. My little nephew was sitting on the carpet, playing with his tonka.
And my... My wife was upstairs in our daughter's
playroom trying to smoke an encyclopedia salesman out of the doll's house.
It was a very, very cold morning.
I remember, very cold, we had to kick -start the Rice Krispies.
And I'd just settled down after breakfast with the Sunday newspaper.
Or was it the Telegraph? Anyway, I was reading one of their thrusting, in
-depth theological dissertations about a vicar who was caught on the church roof
with an Avon lady.
Ding -dong merrily on high.
Suddenly, we heard that the chap next door had just been rushed to hospital.
It's all very tragic because he was a businessman who was very big in kitchen
equipment until his accident.
He fell on top of a Kenwood blender and liquidated his assets.
But I digress.
On with this story. Now, this story concerns a little old lady who, by
coincidence, has also just lost her husband. And she decides that for some
companionship, she will buy herself a dog.
You know, we all like pets. And I remember when I was a boy, we were so
used to have very cheap pets.
For my seventh birthday, my parents bought me a semi -detached tortoise.
My father couldn't afford a homing pigeon, so he had a budgie on
elastic.
So this old lady goes down to her local
pet shop.
And the assistant behind the counter says, I have got the ideal companion for
you. He said, madam, he's a nice little puppy, only six months old.
So she looks at him and says, yes, that's very nice.
She said, do you think it will replace my husband?
I mean, you know, my husband was warm, he was affectionate, and he was always
doing little jobs around the house.
In that case...
This is definitely the dog for you.
I did try to say that quickly.
Anyway, she said, well, I'll tell you what.
If the dog doesn't mind, I'll take it. So they asked the dog, and the dog said,
yes, that's absolutely fine.
And off they go. There you are. You see a talking dog.
Already the joke has got novelty value.
That's about all it has got, but anyway.
Now, to cut a long story short, the lady becomes devoted to this dog, and every
afternoon at tea time, rigorous clockwork, she takes him for a walk down
newsagents for her evening paper. Well, one day, many years later, her legs are
getting a bit crotchety, so she calls the dog in and she says, Now, listen,
Tiddles.
I don't think her eyes were too good either.
If I give you the money, do you think you'll go down and get my evening paper
tonight on your own? And the dog says, yes, I can do that, no problem.
And I just made that bit up. Anyway, he was actually a very
intelligent and perceptive animal during the last election.
Barry Unsworth came round to the house canvassing, and the dog made such a
brilliant job of conducting its own defence, the judge ordered Mr. Undworth
be destroyed.
So she gives it... Oh, my God!
So... So she gives... She gives him the money for the newspaper. She says, now,
you're sure you don't mind?
And the dog says, no, I don't mind at all.
Because he's got the money in his mouth.
and he waddles off down the road while four hours go by and there's no sign of
him. My God, she thinks, perhaps he's been kidnapped.
Perhaps he's got tangled up in a toilet roll somewhere.
I don't know what happens.
Anyway, so she throws on her hat and coat and she begins combing the streets
eventually, just as she's passing a dingy little alleyway, she hears a
noise and there to her horror is her little dog with the little lady dog, as
it were.
You know, having a good time amongst the dustbins, you see.
So she grabs a nearby bucket of water, throws it over them, and then drags the
dog to one side. She said, well, really, I've never seen you do that before.
And the dog looks up and says, well, I've never had the money before.
Oh, the dimples in her cheeks. Oh, the dimples in her cheeks. And the ribbons
her hair.
And the ribbons in her hair. And the rosebuds on her lip.
And the lengthy underwear.
Oh, the dimples in her cheeks.
There's a girl who lives near me, pretty as a pin.
Whenever I go by her place, she always lets me in.
She's a girl without no brain, she's simple, so they say.
But when I take her in the woods, she always knows the way.
Oh, the nipples in her cheeks.
And the sunburn on her knees.
And the music in her voice.
And she tried so hard to please. Oh, the sunburn on her knee.
When first we met, she was wearing pants and pushing an old iron plow. At first
I thought she was a boy, but I don't think so now.
Sometimes we go for buggy rides and other times we walk.
I'd like to ask the gal her name, but we don't get time to talk.
Roll the nipples in her cheek.
And the freckles on her back.
And the starlight in her eyes. And the starlight in her eyes. And she loved my
brother Jack.
What a shame she married Jack.
And she loved my brother Jack.
Didn't have any baked bean and marmite, so got you some shrimp and bobber, all
right? So, your missus is out on the town tonight, is she?
Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, she's gone to the dogs. Well, we all know that, but where's she gone to?
No, I mean, she's gone to the racetrack, hasn't she? With her, you know, and
your Eve.
Oh, has she? Yeah, they've both gone dog racing. Oh, yeah. Well, they'll
probably lose all their money, won't they? Yeah.
finish up as paralytic as pigs, probably.
Get picked up by a couple of drunks, finish up an all -night orgy in Earl's
Court. Still,
it keeps them out of mischief, doesn't it?
You're talking of mischief, far be it from me to pry into your sexual
procavities, but ever since you come into the bar, I couldn't help noticing
you've been wearing that frilly garter.
round the sleeve of your donkey jacket.
Now, which, if my memory serves me correctly, is not your usual custom, is
No, you're right. Well, there is an explanation for that. Well, you damn
hope so. Yeah.
Remember the other weekend you and I went up west, didn't we?
Ended up at that, you know, two o 'clock in the morning. You remember we ended
up at that drafty little strip club?
Oh, yeah, the air and the G -string, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Well, we had a few that night. We did. Two to tell. Don't remember too much of
what happened. Anyway, several days later, there was I at home, Lil, minding
own business, you see, rifling through my trouser pockets, and she found this
garter, you see. Now, me, having me wits about me, I spruced her along that it
was a black armband I bought for mourning for Uncle Cedric, you see, who,
luck would have it, had died the day before.
It was lucky, wasn't it? Yeah.
Very fortuitous indeed.
Yeah. Not, of course, quite so lucky for Uncle Cedric, though. No.
No. Anyway, they'll be in very... What's your name? Oh, dear. What do you
call it, you know, when somebody, you know, believes everything you say?
Thick.
That's right.
Thick. That is right. That is it. Thick, that's right. Yes, you're right, that's
what she is, thick. Anyway, still being thick, as you said, she, she believes,
she's wanted it. She's wanted everything, you see. Only I've got to
for two or three days, otherwise you're going to get very suspicious.
Yeah.
Good job she didn't find that little brazier in your other pocket then, would
it?
Otherwise you'd be walking around with red satin earmuffs.
With them little holes to poke your earlobe through.
So, listen, how old was your old Uncle Cedric then when he kicked it there? He
was the wrong side of 60.
What was that?
94.
Mind you, for the last six months of his life, he had been shacked up with a
young bird of 25.
Well, he was 94, she was 25?
Yeah. She was shacked out, wasn't he?
No, you see, he never had any kids of his own, you see, and apparently I think
he wanted to carry on the family strain.
Well, it would have been a strain, yeah.
What did he die of then, terminal ecstasy or what?
So, yeah.
It's funny, you know, isn't it, this life and death business, you know? It's
very strange. I mean, I often sit here and think, why are we here?
Well, the beer's cheaper for one.
I don't mean why are we here. Why are we sitting in here in this pub having a
pint in the Mary Thatcher? I don't mean that. I mean, life's great external
riddle. Why do we exist?
Well, it's something to do, isn't it?
And furthermore, what happens after it? Now, I heard on the television the other
night, I saw this programme where they said that there's grounds for believing
that there might be intelligent life on the other side.
What, you mean on Channel 10?
Channel 10. Be realistic, Sid. Other life on Channel 10. What I'm talking
is snuffing it.
Snuffing it is not the end of it all, you see.
We may very well, you and me, end up in hell.
Oh, I never thought of that. Never thought of that for one minute. I never
Listen to hell.
I wonder what hell's like.
Not a very nice place, I shouldn't think, would you? Of course it's not a
nice place, otherwise it wouldn't be hell, would it? No, it's a terrible
I always imagined it as some vast...
bottomless pit, all burning, where everyone is chained up and forced to eat
shrimp and Bobville crisps throughout eternity.
Bit like root of the eel on a Friday.
I suppose, then, do you suppose that Uncle Cedric is, in fact, in here at
present moment? No, no, no, no.
No, I've got a theory about that. I reckon that even now, your Uncle Cedric
been reincarnated.
Reincarnate? What do you mean by that?
Reincarnate is when you come back into this life as something else, you know.
I reckon if I had to come back into this life as something else, I would like to
come back as an hyena.
As an hyena? Why would you want to come back as a hyena? Well, if you come back
as an hyena, you're laughing, aren't you?
I mean, you've got all that beautiful African sunshine. You wouldn't be forced
to eat bleeding crisps all day, either, would you?
No, I wouldn't want to come back as a hyena. Not me. Not with my feet.
But you wouldn't have your feet, would you? You'd be an Iena, would you? I
you wouldn't be an Iena trapping me through the jungle wearing two pairs of
black broads and a set of odorators, would you?
You would have the Iena's feet, would you? Yeah, but I still wouldn't want...
wouldn't be me, you see, it wouldn't be... I think if I come back as
I'd like to come back as a giraffe.
You, as a giraffe?
Why do you want to be a giraffe?
Well, it'd stop you picking your noses.
come back as, won't you? Hey, you're the old great white whale, I should say.
You're right, really, with all the whale bones in the corsets and all that
blubber, she's got a head start.
Well, she nearly got harpooned when you took her paddling to Clackton, didn't
you?
Hey, what's that?
Oh, look at that. Look at the time I've got to get out of here. Oh, blimey.
Here, I've got to put my black armband on now.
What? You're not going to funeral and all, George, are you? No, I'm going up
laws to see the cricket. England are battling against Australia.
You know him? Yeah.
Here now is one of Ronnie Barker's favourite sketches.
He loved it because of Ronnie Corbett's performance.
That was jolly good, that was. Thanks very much. I really enjoyed that.
It's a super game, isn't it? I don't know why I've never tried it before.
But I can assure you, my dear chap, from now on, thanks to you, I shall be a
dedicated squish player.
Squash.
Pardon? Squash.
The game is called Squash. Oh, yes, Squash. That's right, yes.
Tell me, who actually won? I wasn't quite sure about the sort of scoring
technique of it. I mean, did I win? You played.
You won. You won. Oh, yes, yes. And how many goals did I get?
Goals? Well, the thing is, you know, runs were... Points! Points, yes,
yes. I mean, how many did I actually score? What was the score?
Look, the score was game love, game one, game love, game love.
Yes. You won by four games to love.
Oh, good.
That's good. You mean I scored four and you scored love?
Yes. Ah, I see. And how many is love?
Love is nothing.
Oh, I see. Oh, no, that's not right, no, because I remember distinctly you did
get a point early on, didn't you? Yes. Yes, only because you had... Oh, I know,
I was holding the thing by the wrong end, wasn't I?
I was trying to push it, yes, I remember it, yes. Yes, I must remember you hold
the bat by the thing. The racket. The racket, yes, the racket. This is a
you see what I mean? The game is called squash.
Yes. We play it with a ball, and this is a plastic racket.
Will it work now you've done that?
Look, I don't care.
Do you understand?
I don't care.
Because I'm not going to play squash anymore.
Ever. Do you understand?
Oh, I say, that's a bit sad, really, isn't it? I mean, I was hoping I was
to come back next week and see if I could do a bit better.
A bit better?
Look, matey.
I am the secretary of this squash club.
You understand that? You know, I am the captain of the team.
Last year I won the singles final in squash. I played for the state in
You know,
I'm one of the best players around about here, to be honest.
You know, I'm good.
You know what I mean? Good.
You haven't played before, have you? You're vastly overweight.
I mean, you know, you're lumbering about the court there.
I mean, you've come on to that bloody court in your Grace Brothers suit.
And you've thrashed me.
You've pulverized me.
Grown me into the dust in front of my friends. I mean, in front of my friends.
You've humiliated me.
How did you do it? How did you do it?
Beginner's luck.
It was a fluke, mate. A fluke, matey. Well, it won't happen again. It won't
happen the next time, you understand?
Well, you can't play again because you've broken your rocket.
Racket!
Doesn't matter.
I'll get a new one, you see. I'll get a new one. And I shall be back here
tomorrow on this very court challenging you ten o 'clock. Not tomorrow.
Oh, no, sorry, not tomorrow. No, no can do. What do you mean, no can do? Well,
I've got to go out to a place called Lord's. There's two fellas called
Gattingham, both of them. They're teaching me to play crack it or
I first
met Dick down at Dirty Duck.
Didn't I, Dick? Yeah.
Two musicians down and our luck wasn't weak, Dick. Yeah.
We both sat down and had some beer. And he comes up with a great idea.
We play in the street for the world to hear.
Didn't you, Dick? Yeah.
We soon became the best of chums. Didn't we, Dick? Yeah.
I played the piccolo, he played the drums. Didn't you, Dick? Yeah.
Well, that sounded off, so we knocked it on the head, and we formed a one -man
band instead.
The two of us, just me and Ted.
Didn't we, Ted?
Yeah. I go bang, he goes clang. I go squeak, and he goes twang. I go
bump, he goes thump. I go thrash, and he goes thump. I go whiz, he goes ting.
I go bonk.
And he goes, we're renowned throughout the land.
We're the only two -man, one -man band.
The barmaid's nice and a dirty duck, isn't she, Dick? Yeah.
She gave us a kiss and she wished us luck, didn't she, Dick? Yeah.
She said, as I'm always telling you, son, two at a time is better than one.
Twice the manpower, twice the fun, didn't she, Dick?
No, no.
I go, he goes, I go, and he goes.
It's sometimes when we should go boom.
When he goes, I leave the room.
He goes, I go, and he goes. We're in and throughout the land.
We're the only two -man, one -man band.
He goes clang. I go squeak. And he goes quang. I go bonk. He goes thump. I go
crack. And he goes bonk. I go whiz. He goes ting.
I go bonk. And he goes squeak. We're in a...
This is The Two Ronnies Unseen, featuring their performances on
television, produced back in 1986.
Good evening.
Australia in the 21st century.
What will it be like? Well, we in the government have got together various
economic forecasters with their crystal balls and one or two with glass eyes to
look into the future.
Over the next 20 years, high technology will gradually replace natural manpower
in all walks of life.
Now, here, for example, is the new microchip Richie Beno.
Very simple to operate, and as you can see, much more animated.
In your shops now. The new generation of metallic performers will, of course,
replace the wooden ones currently in use on neighbours.
All actors will have to be oiled before going on stage, or in the case of Oliver
Reed, well oiled.
The advent of cable and satellite TV will give you a much wider range of
television programs. By the year 2000, you will be able to choose from 567
different channels using this handy remote control device.
Different channels, of course, will cater for the interests of different
specialist groups, and of course... ABC will continue to provide its own
unrivaled programmes of minority interest.
Such as 101 Things to Do If You're Laid Up in Bed with John Michael Housen.
Now, it is also estimated that come the year 2010, Australia won't have a
cricket team.
So, no change there.
And personal recreation well -researched shows that by the end of the century,
sex will be replaced by snooker.
As man's favourite pastime, that is.
This won't make a great deal of difference, although some men will need
rest.
Others will need a longer vest, but... But what about the elderly?
85 -year -old Mr Arthur Cretis of Wanala writes as follows.
When is the government going to stop ignoring the old age pensioner?
Next.
what will be left of Australia's green belt? Well, here is a bird's -eye view.
Sorry, that's a bird's -eye pee. Ah,
there it is, you see? Now, all that will be left of our unspoiled countryside
will be this 25 -acre golf course here in my back garden in Melbourne, where
trespassers will be shot, but only if they're in season.
But there will also be great strides forward in our space program. Already
are underway to fire a game show host into outer space to make sure it's safe
for a monkey.
But it's not all good news. No.
What can we expect from Medicare? Well, due to stringent new medical standards,
no one will be admitted into hospital unless they're 100 % fit.
This will unfortunately lead to slight delays in treatment.
Migraine sufferers will have to put up with a little pain in the head, and
lumbago sufferers will have to put up with a little pain in the back.
Hemorrhoid sufferers will receive a visit from John McEnroe.
Finally, what changes will there be in the government itself? Well, politics
will become much more commercialised, and by the end of the century we could
Houses of Parliament sponsored by Andrews Liverthorpe.
This will greatly speed up the passing of amendments.
Parliament will be dissolved every four hours in a glass of water.
Office conditions throughout Canberra will be vastly improved. It's estimated
that six out of every ten civil servants will have their own polished mahogany
desk. and four out of ten will have a secretary on top of that.
All the civil servants by then will, of course, be replaced by clockwork models,
so their secretaries will each be issued with one of these keys.
And that just about winds it up. Or if it doesn't, you may need a bigger key.
Good night.
Mr. Swellsby, can you suggest something for a headache?
No, no, not you, dear. No, me, me.
Oh, never mind. Send in a cup of herbal tea, if you don't mind. And the next
patient, please.
Well, what seems to be the trouble?
I've got a hatchet in my head.
Good heavens, so you have. I noticed it as you came through the door, but I
thought it was some sort of hat.
It is some sort of hat. Yes, what sort?
The painful sort.
Oh, dear, I'm sorry. Is it causing you some discomfort? Of course it is, of
course it is. Yes, it does look, does look very sore, I must say. You see, of
course, you've got it here, haven't you?
Bang, here you have it. Right between the sex drive and the ability to sew on
buttons.
Would you do something about it, please?
Yes, certainly. What is your name, please?
Initials? TK. Look, I failed to see what... Date of birth, please.
August the 4th, 1930.
Oh, well, that's it. Typical. What do you mean, typical what? Typical Leo.
Leo?
Leo, fire sign, fire, metal, hatchet. It is a fireman's hatchet, isn't it? Yes,
it is. And of course, it's the 11th of the month. You are bound to get a
in your head.
I mean, it's curious. You won't believe this, but I've just written a paper on
the very subject.
Perhaps you'd care to read it. No, thanks.
I don't really like reading. I've got a splitting headache.
Well, me too, I can assure you. Yeah, but I've got a hatchet in mine.
To the untutored eye, outwardly, yes. Some of it is inwardly.
It hurts.
Look, I am the doctor, Mrs. Platt. Will you please allow me to be the judge of
what does and what does not hurt?
Now, please.
Do you get tingling at the end of the fingers? No, no, no, no, no. All the
tingling is confined to my head. Look,
let us not jump to conclusions.
This hatchet in the head may be the symptom of something...
Far worse. Well, far worse? How can it be far worse? Look, this is an
Will you do something about it, please?
If only you'd come to me ten years ago.
I've only just got it.
A lifetime of sitting in the wrong posture, possibly, or a diet of red
you didn't even know your birth sign, did you? Of course. You're going to get
hatchet in your head. Will you just pull it out, please? You see, in this case,
we have to treat the whole man.
What about the hole in the man?
What kind of doctor are you, anyway?
Look. You are living out of accord with nature, you see. Your ying and your yang
are out of... You see, you're feeling alienated.
Violent. It's not me that's violent. It's the man upstairs who's stuck in my
head. He's a violent one.
Look, even the man upstairs obeys orders from outer forces.
Oh, forget it. I'm just going to an ordinary hospital outpatient. Sorry
it.
Grateful amateurs. What do you know of the cosmos? Look, you are a windbag, a
gasbag and a crank, and I hope you sit on your own acupuncture needles.
Great.
The headache's completely gone.
It says here there is no recession.
All I can say is if this isn't a recession, it must be the worst boom in
history.
Now, everybody's got more money than they used to have.
I haven't.
That's it.
Didn't you just have an uncle die?
No. No, I got an auntie die.
Married to Fred.
Oh, it was your auntie, was it?
No, I... he didn't die, he's alive.
It was Fred. He's dead.
Fred.
Dead.
How much money did he leave then?
Well, all of it. You have to, don't you?
But none of it to me. I am truly thoracic. Well, like me.
I haven't got two openings to scratch the soles of my feet with.
Well, I don't need money. I do.
I do. I've asked for money. I've begged for money. I've cried for money. Well,
why don't you work for it? I'm going through the alphabet. I haven't got the
yet.
The two Ronnies traditionally closed their shows with a song.
This bittersweet number written by Ronnie Barker doesn't play for laughs,
reminds us what highly accomplished actors the two Ronnies were.
People don't want clowns no more.
We seem to be out of fashion now.
We seem to have lost our dash somehow.
We seem to have lost our clout.
People don't think we're funny.
No more.
Comedy seems to have passed us by. It's just moved on. Don't ask us why. Left us
down and out.
But I remember the day when everyone loved the clown.
I remember the day whenever the circus came to town. All the kids in the
neighborhood ran after you down the street.
Everyone's next door neighbor wouldn't knock on the wall as hard as they could.
There he is!
Come out to me, my dear.
And the elephants holding each other's tails came lumbering through the crowd.
Pulling the cage, if in hell, the lions and the liberty horses trotting proud.
Then the stilts and the acrobats came tumbling through the town.
And behind them all, to tremendous tears, the hero of the day appeared.
The clown, the clown.
Everyone loved the clown.
People don't want clowns no more.
Things we do don't make them laugh.
Comical car that falls in half no longer stops the show.
People don't go for our gags no more.
The slippery planks and the buckets of paste, it's sheer hard graft just gone
waste, and nobody wants to know.
But I remember the day when the clowns were the only thing.
I remember the day whenever we entered the circus ring, that joyful sound, that
magical roar would surge up from the crowd, and as each pratfall shoot the
floor. Little Joey came back for more. The laughs were loud.
The laughs were loud and loud.
And the flower bags bursting all over the place and the custard pies that
And the soldier Simon full in the face and the baggy trousers filled with glue.
Jock on his square wheel bicycle and Jimbo's gigantic ears.
And the final chase round the edge of the ring. And you feel no pain and the
only thing are the cheers. The cheers. The cheers. You never forget the cheers.
You never forget the cheers.
People don't want clowns no more.
I tend to blame the telly myself.
That's what's put us on the shelf.
That's what did us in.
It's too sophisticated now.
There's entertainment round the clock.
From breakfast TV to late night rock, it's one long bleeding din.
Too many of us at it now.
They're at it all day long.
Everyone's jumped on the gravy train.
Competition's too strong.
There's quiz shows, talent shows, the adverts wall to wall.
The men who talk of... politics.
The biggest clowns of all.
Still, come on, Jacko, we can't sit here.
There's two more shows tomorrow night.
Two more chances to get it right.
Providing family fun.
Let's get moving.
There's a deer.
It's half past twelve and I'm soaking wet.
And we've got to muck out the elephant yet.
Come on.
Oh, we'll never get done.
Well,
I'm afraid that's all we have time for this week. Next week we shall be talking
to Australia's oldest working milkman, who's just become a father at 71.
and at 23 and at the Larches as well.
And we'll also be talking to Angus McTavish of the Sydney Caledonian
who, when asked to do something Glaswegian on Burns Night, was sick in a
box.
And in the back programme, we shall be meeting the world's greatest basketball
team, which recently changed to a high -fibre diet and are now known as the
Harlem Bogtrotters.
And we'll be meeting Elastic Jack, the contortionist who puts his legs behind
his ears and makes a spectacle of himself.
Well, then, it's goodnight from me. And it's good day from him. Good day.
We have an extra special Sunday night of laugh coming up. It begins here at nine
at brand new Billy Connolly and his own words.
Next, from acorn antiques to dinner ladies and then those songs at the
it's a funny business with Victoria Gould.