Good evening and welcome.
It's good to see you. It's good to be with you again, isn't it, Ronnie? Oh,
lovely. What have you been doing with yourself the last week?
Well, I've been appearing in a West End play, I've done a TV series, I've
written a book, and I've climbed Mount Everest.
Yes, I haven't done much either.
And now, now the news.
In the transatlantic single -handed yacht race, Mr. Owen Smithers has been
disqualified for using both hands.
The government issued a serious warning today about Hong Kong flu. The public
are advised not to get it, as it's just a cheap plastic imitation of British
flu.
During a speech by Mr. Enoch Powell at Watford Town Hall, a man rushed up onto
the platform and threw a bag of soup into Mr. Powell's face.
After a slight scuffle, the man was removed, and Mr. Powell went on to sing
Sonny Boy into Camptown's... Today is the
report on the mating habits of animals.
Apparently ostriches mate once a week.
crocodiles three times a week, and elephants three weeks a time.
It was announced today that Amazing Grace has gone to number eight, and
is at number nine.
Mr. Heath at number ten said it's ruining the tone of the movie.
And here is a polite message.
Oh, no, I'm sorry. Here is a police message.
There is a message.
Here is a message for Mr. and Mrs. Smith, believed to be spending the
Brighton. Will Mr. Smith please return to his home in Barnet, where his wife,
Mrs. Jackson, is absolutely furious?
Right. Shall we start?
I've started.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the face of this congregation to join
together this man and this woman.
Excuse me.
What's the matter?
This isn't the one.
Isn't the one? Which one? This one isn't the one I'm marrying.
Not the one you're marrying?
No, you're not, are you?
No, I've never seen her before in all my life.
Have I?
No.
Are you sure?
Of course I'm sure.
Oh, dear, everybody's looking at us.
Well, what's gone wrong, then?
Could you carry on with the service? Everybody's listening.
I can hardly carry on. Just carry on for a little while, please, to give us some
time to think, would you?
All right.
Which is an honourable estate.
and therefore is not by any to be enterprised nor taken in hand
lightly or wantonly.
But reverently... What are we going to do?
We can't carry on. We've got to stop, haven't we? We've got to stop. I can't.
can't.
I've waited for months for this moment. I've been working up to it.
Well,
so have I.
We've both been working up to it, haven't we?
But we've been working up to it with different people.
My mum will go mad if we cancel it now.
She's got all the sandwiches and sausage rolls ready.
She's doing little things in volleyball cases as well.
Marriage isn't just a question of little things in volleyball cases.
She sat up all night in an armchair so she wouldn't spoil a new hairdo.
I don't know anything about you, do I?
I mean, I don't know what you're like.
How do you mean?
Well, what you're like.
You know, what you're like.
What I'm like?
Well,
I can't put any plain idea in front of the vicar. What you're like.
I haven't had any complaints up till now.
Anyway, I don't know what you're like, do I? Well, I'm just like anybody else,
aren't I?
You're very little.
I'm not little, it's you that's big.
Have you decided anything yet?
Because we've come to the part in the service where the whole thing gets a
bit irrevocable now.
It's just that we don't know whether we're suited.
It's a question of size.
May I remind you both that a marriage partner is usually taken on account of
their quality, not quantity.
Well, you'll have to give us a little more time somehow, if you will. All
I'll tell you what. I'll give them a hymn to be going on with.
The congregation will now sing hymn number 798.
A stranger is among us, so shall we let him in.
I love tall girls.
Do you? Yes.
I'm not really tall, you know.
Lie to me.
Yes.
Well, what do you think, then?
Shall we make a go of it?
Well, where would we live?
My dad's bought me a new bungalow.
OK, you're on, then.
All right, Reverend, you can carry on. Yes, we'll just finish this first.
We have met
before, actually.
Really?
Where? Well, do you remember Bobby Upton's party the Christmas before last
we all played sardines?
Yes, were you there then? Yes.
You crawled under the bed I was hiding under. You were the last to be found.
Good gracious.
I didn't recognize you. I was blonde then, and I was lying on my stomach.
Was that you?
Yes.
Oh, good.
Do you, Robin Cyril... Do you, Robin Cyril... Robin Bates... Do you, Robin
Bates... Robin Cyril... Do you, Robin Cyril... Take... Old Mother Thompson...
Take Old Mother Thompson... Mavis Jean... Mavis Jean... Take Mavis Jean
to your local wedding. I always wanted to marry you, ever since I was nine. I
never knew it would finish like this. As long as you both shall live. I do.
And do you, Mavis Jean...
Take Robin Cyril, your wedded husband. What about the other fellow? I never
liked him much.
Anyway, he'll only marry me out of sympathy, really. As long as you both
live. I do.
The ring.
No,
it fits, that's what.
For as much as Robin Cyril and Mavis Jean... What do you mean, marrying you
of sympathy?
He took advantage of me.
Oh.
Well, that doesn't mean you've got to marry him, does it?
Well, I thought it only right. I mean... I pronounce that they be man and wife
together. I've got to give this lot a father, haven't I?
What are you?
Now, a lot of people say to me, you're not doing enough about pollution, and I
say rubbish.
And they say you're not doing enough about rubbish, and I say pollution.
Now, to give you an example of our work, we have selected an area for the
disposal of toxic waste, and here it is.
Great Britain.
We're going to divide Britain into two regions, east of sewage and west of
sewage.
Now, I expect you're wondering what these black marks are.
Well, they represent big towns. That's London, that's Birmingham, and that's
Liverpool, and that is the spot where my wife threw ink at me.
Now, let us see what happens in 20 years' time.
As you see now, London... London is now twice as big, Birmingham three times as
big, And the spot where my wife threw ink at me has a population of two
Of course, certain towns will have to be joined together. For instance, Bognor
Regis will join Lyme Regis and be known as Regis Regis.
West Ham will join East Sandwich to form two towns known as West East and Ham
Sandwich.
Staines will join Underhill and be known as Under Staines.
But we won't talk about that.
And Southampton will join Northampton and become one enormous Hampton.
There'll be four Liverpools, three Exeters, and, of course, two Bristols.
But we can't fight pollution without some hardship. Certain things will have
be rationed. Air, for instance.
You will be able to breathe, but not as often as you used to.
There will be a rotor system as follows.
go Monday, Leeds Tuesday, Sheffield Wednesday, London will breathe in on
Thursdays and out on Saturdays.
Sorry, Hastings, your day is February the 29th, bad luck.
Now, this shows the situation in 1999.
The dog represents one million dogs, and the tree represents a tree.
This means that dogs will have to mind their P's and Q's and Q's and O's.
Traffic.
Here is the map of the roads we are planning.
As you see, it's all very simple.
Every single town will be bypassed so you can drive all day without going
anywhere.
The M5 will join the M36 and the M99 will be known as Gloucestershire.
Scotland will be one way northwards into the sea.
And good riddance to them. Now some people...
Some people worry about overpopulation.
Well, we are dealing with this. In fact, in Northumberland, due to a mistake, we
have just sterilized all the milk and pasteurized all the men.
This means there'll be no half -pint bottles and lots of lovely babies with
tops.
As to overcrowding, we calculate that by 1995, everyone will have two square
feet, which will make walking impossible.
let me end on a more optimistic note.
At the moment, there are still five square yards
of common grassland for every member of the population in Great Britain.
So if you would like yours now, please write to me enclosing a stamped address
wheelbarrow and I will forward it to you.
Here is the address, 17 Old Bicycle Street, Mattress Garden City, Rusty
Bedsteadshire. Good night.
Our story starts on the morning of the 1st of April. An apt date, you may
for the strange charade that was about to unfold itself.
Then again, perhaps you may not think that. It's up to you. What you think is
your own affair.
The fact remains that Piggy Malone, private eye and secret eater, was on his
to his office.
situated in the heart of unfashionable Neasden, over a greengrocer's shop in
Harrow Road.
He approached the door at the side of the shop, pausing only to acknowledge
cheery smile of the proprietor.
He mounted the stairs two at a time.
He was in no particular hurry, but it saved wear and tear on the carpet.
He opened the first door on the left and slowed in, a mistake he often made.
Oi, I'm in here.
Waiting for him on that spring morning, as usual, was Malone's trusty assistant,
Charlie Farley, a failed undergraduate, who occasionally rode to hounds and
invariably walked to work.
Without a word, Charlie handed Malone the morning paper.
Here we are, Chief.
Silently, Malone took it. Thank you very much.
There, in the paper, was the first in what was to be a long list of surprises.
A woman's body was found
this morning on Hampstead Heath, strangled with her own garter.
The body is estimated to be about 31.
The legs about 28 and a half and the body... The police
were able to identify the body by a coat of arms tattooed on the lady's back.
A unicorn rampant.
And the family motto, ready when you are.
She was the wealthy lady Brimston of Brimston Grange, Dorset.
Widow of Lord Arthur Brimston.
The treacle millionaire.
Well?
Sounds like a case for us, Chief.
You reckon?
Certainly. I've looked the family up in Bourke's peerage.
Swarms of relatives, all penniless.
Any one of them could have a motive.
She's put her money in treacle.
It's not going to be very easy to get hold of.
And they'll all be there, waiting to contest the will.
Why?
You've forgotten again, Miss Wizard.
Hi, Mr Malone. I got up in such a hurry this morning.
It's all right.
Bring me a butter bun, would you?
Princeton grade, eh?
Sounds inviting.
Trip to the country?
You've been looking a bit peaky. Change of beer probably do you good.
Anything we ought to finish off here first?
Nothing that can't wait, Chief.
Business hasn't exactly been brick.
A couple of lost pension books.
And, of course, the Mrs.
Thompson poisoning.
Ah, the window box affair, eh?
While she was leaning out of the window, talking to her neighbour at the front,
someone crept round the back and sprayed her prize begonia. And it went yellow.
Well,
we haven't got time to waste on trivialities.
Tell her to put the whole thing in the hands of a solicitor.
We've got a murder to solve.
Strangled with her own garter, eh?
So, we're taking the case, Chief?
Yep.
Well, I'll go and get the motorbike round the front, then.
There's not much to go on, Charlie.
Well, perhaps we'd better go by train, then, eh?
Tell you what.
You go and pack.
Drive down to Brimstone Grange on the motorbike.
I'll phone them, tell them we're coming, and follow by train, and you pick me up
at the station. It's as simple as that.
We should be just in time to catch the funeral.
Sounds like the funerals in full swing.
And so it was.
that Figgy Malone and his intrepid assistant, Charlie Farley, came face to
with the Brimston family.
Surely the most bizarre funeral feast that that detective had ever clapped his
eyes on.
At this moment in time, they were just faces, but faces he would grow to know
and hate before many days had passed.
There was Professor Amos Brimston, the rightful heir, 72 years old, eminent
gynecologist and tug -of -war champion, who at this moment was trying to get his
pet mice drunk.
Next to him...
the Dowager Lady Agatha Brimstone.
Ex -Gaiety Girl, reputed to have been kissed on the lips of Balmoral by Edward
VII and in many other places as well.
Further along the table, young Billy Brimstone with his brand -new blushing
bride, Brenda, busily trying to brief her about the birds and the bees before
bedtime.
Is this a funeral or a wedding?
It's been a boat by the look of it.
Ladies and gentlemen...
As indeed it was. Uncle Joe Brimstone, the bankrupt tycoon who at this moment
toasted the bride and groom, had decided to combine the two occasions in order
to save time and money. It was he himself who had designed the unusual
Two other pairs of eyes watched the proceedings with mixed feelings.
Nellie Tremblay, the dowager's lady companion, and Otto, fan dancer.
A permanent guest in the house ever since he'd been flown over from
1954 by the late Lord Brimstone to act as military advisor in the grouse
shooting season.
It was no secret that Otto was madly in love with Brenda, Billy's bride.
There remained but three people in the room worthy of a more than cursory
before the drama is allowed to unfold itself.
And they were gathered at the far end of the table, drinking heavily.
Pike, the sinister butler.
Dr. Grist, the family physician, an eccentric who had often been found in
with his patients.
And who wore his stethoscope always, even in the bath.
And last, but by no means least, the well -endowed Blanche Brimstone, sister
the deceased, whom they said was like Mount Everest.
She had been conquered few times.
And then, only by men willing to suffer great personal hardship working in
groups of three or four.
Oh, look at that.
They've got cherries on them.
In another part of the grounds, the gardeners went about their duties.
No one knew their names, but they worked with a relentless enthusiasm.
At present, they were in the vegetable garden, engaged in moving a hole from
end to the other.
They worked on little knowing that disaster was about to descend once more
the Brimston household.
Is it murder?
Well, it isn't arson, is it, dear?
I don't want anyone to leave this room.
Oh.
Especially you, madam.
I knew this would happen.
And, actor, you are from Scotland Yard, aren't you? No.
Neaston High Street.
Leave him alone.
There's something I must show you.
Come to my bedroom while we've got the chance.
Right.
Soon you'll realise what I've been through.
Yes.
Very good, madam.
Charlie, you stay here and look after the body.
If I'm not down in an hour, send her a couple of pork pies, would you?
Questions tumbled over each other in Malone's teething brain.
What did Blanche know of the murder?
What was she going to show him in the bedroom?
Had he got clean underwear on? Had he cancelled the bill?
One thing was certain.
There would be very little sleep for Malone that night.
I think I'm gonna cry.
Bye -bye, love.
Bye -bye, sweet courage.
Hello, emptiness.
I feel like I could die. There goes my baby with someone new.
She sure looks happy.
I sure am blue.
She was my baby till he stepped in.
Goodbye to romance that might have been.
Bye -bye, love.
Bye -bye, happiness.
Hello, loneliness.
I think I'm gonna cry.
Bye -bye, love.
Bye -bye, sweet dreams.
Hello, emptiness.
I feel like I could die. I'm free from romance.
I'm free of love.
I'm free of counting the stars above.
And here's the reason that I'm so free.
I don't know why I said thank you there, but before I go... Well, I said it. It
slipped out and I said it.
Before I go any further, I must tell you a very, very funny story about this
chap who has just moved into a new house. Now, it's rather a coincidence
I myself have just moved into a new house. Well, not only me, you know, but
wife and children, you know.
I'd like to know who gave them the address.
Actually, I got an idea that the old place might be down for redevelopment
I came home one night and found two men marking out a motorway on the living
room carpet.
Now, they tell me it'll be the new M21 and it will take 45 minutes off the
journey from Slough Labour Exchange to the Royal Yacht Club at Cowes.
And vice versa, of course.
Sorry,
I seem to be getting away from the subject.
I do that sometimes. I sometimes wish that I'd kept on with that course on
positive thinking.
I did it for two years and I couldn't make up my mind whether to stop or not.
Anyway, we are now in the new house.
Of course, we are having some teething troubles with it. Well, you know, who
doesn't with the new house? We've had a little bit of shrinkage in the woodwork.
Last night, someone put his arm under the front door and stole the mat.
And the dining room table.
Actually, the dining room is a little bit pokey.
Actually, at first I thought it was a secret passage.
And you're not going to believe this, but the telephone hasn't stopped ringing
since we moved in.
We were on a party line with the ICI.
Now, my wife, my wife, tall, well -built, blue hat.
I tell her lie.
Sorry, I tell her lie. Green hat.
I keep getting her mixed up with the postman.
Anyway, she has settled down very well indeed.
She's joined the East Grinstead Cooperative Vivisection Society.
They meet in the co -op and pull people to pieces.
And she's also treasurer of the Young Wives Fund for the restoration of the
milkman.
I personally don't go in much for joining this and joining that. I used
be honest with you, I used to belong to the Duke of Clarence homeward bound
scheme. If it was closing time in the Duke of Clarence and you couldn't walk,
they'd put you in a taxi.
I'm still a member of the Hurlingham Ferret Down Your Trousers Club.
It's a little bit of fun, you know, we meet once a month and put a ferret down
our trousers.
I think it's sponsored by the Family Planning Association.
Now, don't try it, will you?
One advantage of the new house, I must be honest, is the kiddies' school, which
is just a stone's throw down the road. Now, it's a very, very nice school
indeed. It's the St. Lillian Skinners.
Lillian Skinner's for children of the well -shod gentry.
And it's run by the Order of the Little Sisters of the Rich.
Now, the accent is not so much on learning. It's not so much on learning
on carriage and deportment. They turn out a very high percentage of lollipop
ladies and effeminate gas fitters.
Which brings me rather cleverly to...
say that rather pompously, which brings me rather ordinarily to what I was going
to tell you about this gas fitter who has moved into the new house. Now, he
to the front garden the first morning and the chap next door comes out of his
garage and says to him, would you mind very much, would you mind very much
helping me start my car and have a bit of a bother? So he follows the chap into
the garage and there's no car there, just a chair in the middle of the floor.
The chap gives him a starting handle and says, you know, give it a turn.
So he goes through the motions, you know, he goes to the front, goes boom,
boom, and the chap sitting in the chair suddenly goes boom, boom, boom, boom,
boom, jumps out of the chair and runs off down the road.
While the neighbour, the neighbour from the other side walks into the garage and
said, did you help him start his car?
The chap said, yes, he said, as a matter of fact, I did. He said, did you notice
that he hasn't, you know, got a car?
The chap said, well...
As a matter of fact, he said, I did. I did, yes.
He said, well, don't tell him, will you, please, because I get a pound a week
for cleaning it.
Thank you.
We don't allow it around.
If you've got the energy,
why not come round to our camping ground?
Ho! Ho!
Ho! Ho! Ho!
We're dripping to life with a song in our hearts, and we all know our parts,
that when trouble starts, we will be there, boys, and we will be keen,
we're doing it all for the Queen.
We're not easy riders.
Thank you.
Skipper Chuck Ferris welcoming you to another jamboree show. And I... I
hope you're all going to be ready to go because I know we're all going to have a
lot of fun.
Well, with me tonight, as usual, is your old friend, Pastor Gunnersbury.
Hi there,
listeners.
And now, in more serious mood...
Buster Gunnersbury is joined by young Roger Hopkins in a very dramatic
entitled, Be a chap with a purpose.
All right, lad.
Do you want to tell me why you stole the chocolate biscuit?
Were you hungry?
No, sir, just something to do.
Something to do?
You're just wasting your life, Roger.
You'd better pull yourself together, son, and take this good advice from me.
Be a chap with a purpose. Be a fellow with an aim.
Though life's a moving target, try to hit it just the same.
Take up the bow of honesty, screw up your strength and pull.
And in the field of cleanliness, you're bound to hit a ball.
Be a man who is merry. Be a guy who is gay.
And if life seems topsy -turvy, try it up the other way.
If you're in a narrow tunnel and it's black and you are blue, if you've a
at the other end, he's bound to pull you through.
Be a gent who is gentle. Be a pal who isn't proud.
Don't try to be a big knob or stand out in the crowd.
But if a chum falls on hard times, just offer him your hand and let him grasp it
firmly. It will make you both feel grand.
So remember, as you go through life and travel near or far, it isn't what you
say or think or what you do or are.
It's what you think. It's what you say.
It's what you are and do.
Just live by that, and then you'll stay alive your whole life through.
Thank you.
And now, lads and lasses, Skipper Chuck Ferris is going to do his well -known
take -off skit of Mrs.
Golightly. Come on, Chuck.
Oh, dear.
Oh, I've had a day, you know. Oh, I've had such a day.
I just ran into my friend, Elty, you know, the one with the waitress, you
and got the sack.
Because she was caught with her fingers in the tail.
Thought the change would do her good.
She says to me, she says to me, no, don't. She says to me, Doris, she says
me, Doris, I'm very concerned, she said, because she said, my fiancé, Bob, you
know my fiancé, Bob, she said, well, he's Marine, she said, and I've just
discovered that that means he's half soldier and half sailor, she said to me.
She said, do you think I should still marry him?
I said, well, provided both have come home and leave at the same time, I
shouldn't worry.
Little Billy Pratt, what a funny fella.
So bananas along the street, they were so big and yellow.
They soon became quite famous, and wherever people met, they vowed they
rightest and the best they'd ever ate. And now throughout the land, you'll find
them near at hand.
You see, well, if you go there to start...
Thank you.
I give them in return our Billy Pratt's bananas.
Hey, all those good listeners, return our Billy Pratt's bananas.
Well,
that's it, folks. Once again, the old clock's beaten us and it's time to say
goodnight. Come on, Chuck.
Get your lipstick off.
Say cheerio, everybody.
Cheerio, everybody.
That's right.
And from all of us...
From all of us, from all of us gangsters here, it's good luck till we meet
again, and don't forget, stay bright, do right.
Don't get tight, or hire the kite.
Try not to fight, stay home at night, keep out of sight, and you'll be all
right. Good night!
We are not easy riders.
We're just a load of countrysiders sailing along with the wind in our hair.
That's it for this week. On the show next week, we'll be discussing Mae
film career with WC Fields and asking, was she using WC as a convenience?
Basil Brush will be telling you where he gets his brushes.
Wilfred Pickles will be telling you where he gets his pickles.
And Simon Oates won't be saying anything.
In Kettering last night, a police constable, thought to be drunk in charge
breathalyser, was made to blow into a pink saloon car.
And in the West Midhurst nursing home, the seats have been removed from all the
toilets. The nursing staff are furious, commented one nurse, we stand for a lot
of things, but we're just not standing with that.
And now, it's goodnight from me, and it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.