Good evening, it's good to be with you again, isn't it, Ronnie? Isn't it, isn't
it? On the show tonight, we've got extracts from three plays.
Fanny by Gaslight, a new play set on the top story of a fizzy lemonade factory
called Gassy by Fanlight, and a play about an old lady who was rescued from a
lighthouse after she sent an SOS by torch called Granny by Flashlight.
And we'll be asking the cast of Oh Calcutta to change roles as they all
each other's parts backwards.
But first, the news.
A lorryload of custard today collided with a goods train carrying cakes and
wine. British Rail have asked us to announce that trains will be late, but
a trifle.
British scientists made history this week in the field of interbreeding when
they crossed a skunk with a fairy and got a whiff and poof.
The American president announced today that the U .S. space program is so short
of funds that in future all astronauts who go to the moon will have to pay
own fare.
And a man is recovering in Bradford tonight after a 20 -foot girder fell
building. It was fantastically lucky, he said. The girder missed my left
shoulder by only three inches.
It hit him on the head.
And reports that doctors are widening the range they specialise in were
confirmed today by Dr Sidney Smith, an ear, nose, throat, dandruff and belly
button specialist.
And two doctors, two doctors who examined the ears of one of Britain's
politicians today are concerned about what they saw.
They saw each other.
A Lincoln man has beaten the world record for standing on his head.
He said afterwards it was easy. I could have done it standing on my feet.
And now it's time for a sketch.
We should warn you that this sketch will contain scenes that are not suitable
for Mexican hairdressers who don't speak a word of English.
Morning. Good morning.
I'd like an eagle.
What sort of eagle?
One that flies, you know.
Oh, yes, I know the sort.
They're no good for roasting, you know.
They're a bit springy. I don't want to roast it. Ah, good. I could tell you
a bit of a gourmet.
You see, if you want to cook them best, chop them up. Chop them up. Saute them
in a little bit of stock. Add the red wine, a couple of bay leaves, and your
will love the talons.
I don't want an eagle to eat.
Oh, good. Very good. For your wife to eat, is it?
I'm not married. I didn't think you were married when I heard you were doing all
your own cooking.
It's not much fun, you know, being in charge of a butcher shop.
This is a pet shop.
Yes, I know. What's the difference?
Butchers sell animals dead, we sell them alive.
Do you fancy a nice penguin sandwich?
Not at the moment, thank you, no. Do you fancy a French mustard to take away the
nasty fishy taste? Look, what about my eagle?
You've got an eagle, have you?
Oh, I'll give you a good price for that. I haven't got an eagle.
I want an eagle.
Now, if you want to eat it here, I'll take it with you.
I want to take it with me.
You've got friends coming round for dinner, have you? Yes, yes, I've got
friends all coming round for dinner, all ravenous for a nice piece of eagle,
yes. Right, here we are. There we are.
There you are.
That's not an eagle.
That's Ted. Ted the eagle. That's a dormouse. Where? Where? Where? Don't let
see it, for goodness sake. In the box. In the box with Ted, a dormouse?
Goodness me, you'll have him in no time. Goodness me, he's eaten them all up.
Not a thing you left. Would you believe that? Oh, the wicked these eagles, you
know. Don't let him be near your fingers whenever you're going to have them.
Listen, this dormouse, Ted, Ted the eagle. All right, Ted the eagle is not
eagle. He's a dormouse.
It's a baby eagle. No, no, I'm sorry. I'm not interested.
He's not any... Sort of eagle.
Well, I must be honest with you, make no bones about it, eagles are hard to come
by and they're a bit expensive. What about that?
That's an egg.
I see you know what you're talking about.
This is a do -it -yourself eagle kit.
Cut out the middleman.
And what am I supposed to do with that? Well, wait a minute. It comes with a
set. It's a map of the mountains of Scotland, some climbing boots, and a
woolly hat.
See? I'm afraid of heights.
Well, so are eagles. Why do you think they're all hiding under my counter
How would I hatch that out? Well, you sit on it, you see.
You must be very careful. I'll just put these away, because I don't like them
lying about. You must sit on it. You must be very careful not to break it,
see. The slightest sound of a crack, jump off.
Because small as they are, they have an awkward chart beat.
How long would I have to sit on that?
Three months.
No, no, I foresee certain difficulties. I'm afraid I haven't got the time to
spare in my line of work. Oh, yes? What is your line of work? I'm a U -boat
commander.
Could I interest you in a nice little giraffe, then?
You know, just to... He'd pop his head above the water for you, have a little
look around.
Save you going to the expense of a telescope.
No, I've had second thoughts.
Second thoughts? I'll take the eagle.
The eagle, right.
Now, what size boots do you take? No, no, I don't want the egg. I want the
little furry eagle with the tail and the eyes.
Ah.
Ted. Ted the eagle. Ted the little furry eagle, yes. Ah, he's a lovely... Ted.
Ted the eagle, yes. Now, do be careful, now, won't you? That'll be five pounds
in all, by the way. Five pounds in all. Right. Thank you very much. Thank you
very much. And do be very careful with them because there's an awful lot of
in them.
I'll wear a little woolly glove. Yes, sir. Thank you very much.
Ah, good morning, madam.
How are you, young man? I'm very well. Can I interest you in a nice gorilla?
No. Have you any canaries?
No canaries, madam. Only gorillas.
What about Ted the gorilla? He's a lovely little fellow. Have a look at him
there, Ted.
The summer smiles.
The summer knows.
And unashamed.
She sheds her clothes.
The summer smiles.
The summer knows.
The summer's wise.
She sees the doubts within your eyes.
And so she takes...
Good evening.
I want to speak to you tonight about, um, about, uh, about men and women and
they, um, and how they, when they, uh, when, when they, uh, if they.
I'm from the Government Advisory Service on, uh, thingamere, and we believe, we
believe it would be much better if people could be perfectly frank about,
mean, you'll find yourself becoming much happier in every way if only you can be
more outspoken about, um, about being more outspoken, about, you see, for
instance, everyone should be able to talk absolutely freely about, about, um,
about, uh, about three months ago I was asked to come here and talk to you
about, uh, about, about a flu prevented me then, but here I am now.
Good. That wasn't too embarrassing, was it?
Now, here is a diagram of your, good God.
As you can see, the Birmingham one -way system is very complicated and not a
good place for a bit of what have you.
And what have you, that is the question.
People, as some probably know, are of two kinds.
Which kind are you?
To help us, here is a nude man and a nude woman after they've put their
back on.
Now, to tell them apart, you just take off, you just, you just take off, you
just, you just take off by frobison.
I'm standing here.
I'm standing here in the middle of... You see, if it's a good take -off, it's
man or it's a woman who sounds like Fife Robertson.
Now, if you look down, if you look down, if you look down your front, you will
see, you will see a thing which we call... a thing which we call the floor.
This is not where you do the thing you don't do on the floor.
Unless, of course, you do do it on the floor.
In which case, you're probably a member of a splinter group.
Well, there it is.
Or isn't. And that's what tells you. And the way to tell men and women apart, or
indeed together, is that they both have two. They both have two ears.
Well, of course, it doesn't end there.
I mean, there's really no point in being embarrassed about mentioning certain
parts of the body. Not only the ears, but, of course, our old friend, the
I mean, what's embarrassing about the old hooter? Nothing. Keep our nose to
ground and you'll smell the floor.
Which, as I said, is not where you do what you do, when you do, do do what you
do, if you do, and good luck to you. More power to your elbow. Well, not
your elbow.
So let us be completely frank, or George, or Harriet, according to how you
and let us answer the question, where do babies come from?
Well, some of them come from Luton.
Now, if it's embarrassed you to listen to what I've been speaking about so
outspokenly, speak out. Or, forever, hold your peace.
That's spelled P -E -A -C -E.
And here to help explain what I mean, I have a hairbrush and a jam jar.
I put the hairbrush into the jam jar.
What happens?
Well, I can't brush my hair until I get the brush out of the jar.
Splendid. I hope that clears it up.
It does for me, and I so say all of us.
And remember, don't be shy about women's... I mean, don't be shy about
women's... women's coconut... Don't be... Don't be coconut shy.
Or guess the weight of the pig.
Go quite openly to Luton, find a floor, waggle your two ears, get out your
hairbrush and use the Birmingham one -way system, and good luck to you.
The latest victims done to death in the continuing gory story of Brimstone
Grange were none other than young Billy Brimstone, who had been married for only
a fortnight, what the Sunday papers would describe as a two -week
and Otto Van Dancer, oily German, crack shot, and hitherto chief suspect in this
bizarre affair.
Pike, the rustly butler, was for once not in evidence.
Figgy Malone, second -rate private eye and inveterate glutton, and his more
fastidious but equally pathetic assistant, Charlie Farley, had witnessed
whole affair, however, and spent a long time at police headquarters helping the
police. with their inquiry.
Thank you.
All works.
Could we have our sacks back, please?
My mum keeps you for the onions. Oh, yes.
Thank you.
Thanks very much.
No, not you, Mrs Parsons.
We're not at your house yet.
Come on, let's go in.
Wait a minute, Chief.
You realise that only Miss Blanche left.
And Pike the butler.
You mean... Exactly.
What?
What? What do you mean?
How do you mean?
Well, you said exactly. Yes, I meant exactly what you were going to say.
I wasn't going to say anything.
Well, I was going to say that the murderer must be Pike the butler. Or
Exactly.
Anyway, I suggest we treat them both with the utmost caution. Go on.
What the devil are you doing here?
Oh, we're rehearsing for the musical evening tonight.
Musical evening?
What musical evening?
Oh, Miss Blanche always has a musical evening on the first Thursday in the
month. She loves anything musical.
Oh, does she indeed?
I show her my cigarette box.
Ah, gentlemen, you're back.
Is it true, madam, that you are holding a musical soiree here this evening?
Yes. But never mind that now.
Come to my bedroom. I've got something to show you.
It'll make you go hot and cold.
I am out to get you.
I will kill you like I killed all the others. You will die a horrible death, I
promise you.
Very best wishes, Anonymous.
Do you know this man?
It can only be from Pike. He's the only one left.
And you yourself, of course, madam. But I wouldn't threaten my own life.
Of course not. There's a reason, Chief. I mean, goodness me, if she continued to
ignore these letters, she'd be forced to kill herself.
Exactly.
She could commit suicide and make it look like murder.
This would incriminate Pike, and she'd get away scot -free.
True.
Right.
Anyone else got any ideas?
Where is Pike?
I haven't seen him all day.
You don't think he's lurking somewhere, do you?
Well, wherever he is, and whatever he's doing, Miss Blanche, one thing is
certain. From now on, neither of us should leave your side for a moment.
Ever.
Well, I could know the picture, couldn't I?
Oh, yes. What's on the local? Anybody know?
Uh, yes, that, um... It's got a picture, you know.
That's Ica.
The two
detectives worked tirelessly to safeguard the life of the friendly
Blanche. And it was here that Charlie Farley, failed undergraduate, was to
shine. bringing his keen mind to bear on the problem of a foolproof warning
system.
Malone was content merely to look in occasionally and receive a progress
all right chief this is very good but supposing he comes in through the window
exactly string
That's more like it.
Yes.
Now, how are you going to get out?
Oh, well, I've got that door coming in on.
Oh.
But supposing the murderer comes in through that door over there?
That door covered.
Everything should be sort of just set now.
Go out and try it, Chief.
No, no.
You go out and try it. Go on.
Suppose this is simpler.
Yeah.
Mind you, it means we've got to sit up all night.
Oh, I don't mind. I'd do anything to protect Miss Blanche.
Where is she, by the way?
Oh, she's in the... All the time I saw her.
Go, Benny.
Where's Miss Blanche, my good man?
I'm not sure, sir.
Search for her, man.
Her life's been threatened.
Wait a minute, Chief. What?
That was Pike.
Someone asked for him.
Disappeared.
I suggest we search for Miss Blount's cheek. We must get to her before he
It was three hours later when they finally found her.
Hello, boys.
Oh, Miss Flush, I'm so glad we found you. I've been so worried.
When I saw your legs lying in the grass, I didn't know where to put myself.
Naughty boy.
I don't want to alarm you, madam, but Pike is back.
I know, I've seen him. I think he's quite harmless.
You may do. I'd still like to have a word with him.
Come on, let's all go and look for him. Where do you suggest we look?
Well, where do you expect the bastard to be?
I should think probably hanging around the kitchen.
I suggest you get him in here at once.
Very well.
I'll ring for him.
Butler didn't do it after all. And if he didn't, then who was the mysterious
killer who lurked unseen in the dim corridors of Brimston Grange?
Piggy Malone and Charlie Farley had already agreed to sleep in Blanche's
to protect her. Or was it to protect each other?
One thing was certain.
There would be very little sleep for anyone that night.
You took me up to heaven when you took me in your arms.
I was dazzled by your kisses, blinded by your charms.
I was lost, I was lost in a fool's paradise, fool's paradise.
Good and lost, good and lost in a fool's paradise.
When you told me that you love me, I gave my heart to you.
And I wondered if there could be any truth in love so new.
I was lost.
In a fool's paradise.
Fool's paradise.
Good and lost.
Good and lost. In a fool's paradise.
The whole world was my kingdom.
And your love was jamming my crown.
Then I saw you glance at a new romance. And my love came tumbling down.
Though you treat me kind of foolish.
And may never let me know.
That you think I'm being foolish.
Because I love you so.
I still got love.
I still get lost in a fool's paradise.
Fool's paradise.
Lost with you.
Lost with you. In a fool's paradise.
I still get lost.
Good evening.
Listen to this, by the way, listen to this.
Mr. Corbett, dear sir, I'm getting tired of hearing about your new house, which
you bought with money stained with the sweat and tears of the workers.
You are a capitalist and a lackey of the imperialist ruling classes.
Major General Sir Groppley Buff Ticket, KCB.
Grafton Towers and the Athenaeum.
Well,
that's the way I treat those sort of letters.
Especially if nobody laughs.
And I don't intend to comment any further, except to say that, believe it
not, I have known what it is to be short.
For instance, how many of you... Don't answer now until you've heard this
question. Let me put it another way. Despite what you might have heard, I do
come from a very, very poor family.
My father was 27 years down the mine, and his dinner was still in the oven.
And my wife, my wife came from a very poor family as well.
Her father was a professional carol singer.
And... When we got married, when we got married, even her wedding dress was army
surplus.
Now, the wedding reception itself was quite small, quite a small affair.
Half a pound of fruitcake and a bottle of tithes were between five and ten.
And two of them were great crashers.
How the memories come flooding back, I hope. I remember...
I remember it distinctly, I do remember, because we couldn't afford the church
organ, so we brought our own.
You know, the music wasn't bad, but the monkey was a bit of a nuisance.
Setting a bad example to the choir.
Then there was this terrible, terrible mix -up over my wife's flowers from the
florist, and she finally walked down the aisle with a floral dartboard made of
carnations, which read, Goodbye, Sid, from the lads at the Rose and Crown.
Unfortunately, unfortunately, her dear mother could not be there because she
a deserter from the WVS.
She was picked up two years later and shot, trying to escape.
That's not actually really true, but if I told you the truth, you'd never
believe me.
And, strangely enough, my wife was in show business at the time. You know, she
was the girl half of a... Naturally, she was the girl half of a very bad knife
-throwing act, which explains why she's a little bit ragged round the edges.
But I'll say no more about that because, you know, it is depressing me.
It's not that you're a lot of good, actually.
I could go on for hours, really, about the hard times. I could tell you about
how we lived in a boarding house and how we were so hard up that on Sunday
mornings the landlord used to let us go down and dip our bread in his egg.
My goodness, how my wife has changed. By Jove. Now, we went on a luxury cruise
last year. It's rather hard to say luxury cruise. We went on a luxury
last year. Without actually doing that, you know. If you go luxury cruise, it's
really quite easy.
If you go luxury cruise... We went on a luxury cruise last year.
I think I talk like that all the time.
We went... Shut that door.
We went on a luxury cruise last year, and the first day out, the purser, a big
handsome fellow, said, Mrs. Corbett? No, he didn't. He said, Anne, darling, I...
I knew there was something I meant to speak to her about.
He said, I put you at the captain's table for dinner, and she said, I'm
but at these prices, I'm not eating with the crew.
Which reminds me of a rather... Which reminds me of a rather amusing incident
that happened to me on a train a few years ago.
I was en route for... That's one of these other words, I was en route.
I was en route... for a cruise.
Look at the muck in this place.
I was... I was... I was en
route for Portsmouth to take part in rather a cheap pantomime, Goldilocks and
the Two Bears.
Or it might have been Robin Hood and his merry man.
It doesn't matter.
It mattered then, but it doesn't matter now.
So I got into this compartment with three or four sailors and a bishop.
So we're going along, and I'm just sitting there, and the sailors are
one another's hats and generally having a good time.
One of the sailors, one of the sailors, a big petty officer,
Was reading the newspaper, you see. Now, he leaned across to touch the bishop on
the knee.
We had a hell of a job getting him down off the luggage rack.
Anyway,
we had all settled down, you see. And he said to the bishop, what I was going to
ask your grace is, what is gout?
And the bishop said, I'm glad you asked me that.
I don't know why he said that, but he did. He said, I'm glad you asked me
He said, my good man, gout is a complaint that you get from drinking too
smoking too much, and going out with Portsmouth ladies like Lampost Lill and
Hospital Hattie.
That is the cause of the gout. He said, why do you ask? And the sailor said,
well, it says here that the Archbishop of Canterbury's got it.
Good evening.
Tonight, we're going to look at Alex Dovnia's amazing spheroids, now on loan
the British Museum.
We'll be talking to a man who has the largest collection of plimsolls in Great
Britain. But first, Queen Victoria.
There have been many plays written about her, and in fact, a new musical is at
this moment in preparation.
The first stage representation of Her Majesty was, however, in the music hall.
in 1907, performed by a well -known double act of the time known as Lescombe
Daft.
They received three years in Pentonville for insulting the Queen's person.
As Lescombe would have said, if he'd been alive today, get out of that.
We offer you now that same sketch as it was performed, absolutely verbatim.
Only the words have been changed.
We present Change Here.
For Victoria.
Miss Florence Nightingale and Mr. Oscar Wilde.
I was talking to Florence just now.
And I said, why don't you get married?
And she said, I'm waiting for my ship to come in.
And I said, you've been waiting so long, your jet is collapsed.
We are not amused, silly
queen.
Where is my faithful retainer, John Brine, the queen's trusted ghillie?
Gilly, gilly. Thank you very much. And now we'd like to do Anne and
Eagle. It's about time somebody did.
Ah, my dear Mr. Holmes, are you enjoying the picnic? Indeed, yes, Your Majesty.
Tell me, should we this morning go to Spitalfield Market, walk through a patch
of damp clay and lean against the red brick wall at 11 .30 precisely?
No.
Ah, well, just a shot in the dark.
By the way, Your Majesty, I was asked to give you this message. Oh, thank you
very much, dear Sherlock.
Dear Your Majesty, hoot, I've been a war, but very, very soon I shall be
returning the new to the old button bell.
P .S. That's probably me now.
Leave me, everyone. We wish to be alone.
Your Majesty, are you alone?
Yes, John, we are in here.
I thought you said you were alone.
Oh, I am.
I was using the royal wee.
All right, I'll wait till you're finished.
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present Five Foot of Fun in the Sparrow,
lovely John Brown.
Thank you very much.
Good evening.
Tonight I was going to give you a little exhibition of some Highland dancing,
but I washed my kilt last night and I can't do a flame with it.
Oh dear, how do you write the kilt, Mrs?
BBC tartan. Small checks.
Well, I don't know.
Oh, it's so cold today, isn't it? It's far too cold for a picnic, so it is.
far too cold for a picnic.
It's far too cold.
Cold enough to freeze the brass buttons off a flunky, so it is.
I don't know where the wind's coming from, but I can't well where it's going.
I'm sorry, Your Majesty, to have delayed you, but I was dashing here on my penny
farthing and I got caught by the peelers. Oh, how painful.
Tell me, what has been happening while I've been away?
Oh, quite a lot, dear John, quite a lot. Dear Charles Dickens gave us a preview
of his little Dorrit.
Oh, really? He sent me a copy of Oliver yesterday.
Oh, twist.
He must have been when he wrote that, hasn't he?
Oh, and I had it very sad.
I had a very sad letter from dear Dr Livingstone.
Apparently, he's been bitten by the tetsy -tetsy. Oh, where?
On the footsie -wootsie.
But, my dear John, what of you, dear? Well, I have been very fortunate. I was
one of the beaters at Lady Barragray's shooting party.
Oh, yes. We got 23 pheasants, 14 grouse, and 29 partridge. Ah, quite a bag. Oh,
you know her, do you?
Oh,
dear Miss Bailey. Hello, dear. Your Majesty, the Russians have invited
Constantinople already yet.
And there's wholesale slaughter.
Wholesale slaughter?
Yes, and I ordered retail.
And there's trouble in the canal.
Oh, but there's nothing.
Nothing, she said.
If you knew Sue Will, like I know Sue Will. Oh, oh, oh, what a mess.
Great crested tit.
Why did you say that, dear? Well, I haven't said a dicky butt for five
I'm going to warn you, dear, I shall have to be off soon because I'm going to
France on business.
There's a fast packet in the harbour. Oh, let her wait.
There's something very important I have to say to you, John, as my trusted
gilly. Something very important transpired yesterday,
my dear.
I think I can say that I'm still in the first flush of womanhood.
If that's your first flush deal, there's something wrong with your plumbing.
No, you know I adore you. I adore the hurry of your skinkle and the way you
sleek it grab me too.
And I apologise.
Apologise? Why? Well, I might have said something dirty.
Oh, my English rose, be mine before the green fly gets you. Be mine, my proud
beauty. I'm not proud.
No, you're no beauty either.
Will you marry me, my dear?
I cannot marry you. You're a commoner. I'll have you know I'm in bark spirits.
What has a bookmark?
That's the second offer we've had in two days, you know. Only yesterday, dear
General Gordon made us a proposal. He was hardly in the room. No wonder they
call him Flash Gordon.
Well, who is it to be, him or me?
I'm afraid, dear Johnny, it can be neither of you.
You see, England needs me.
There is so much to do and so little time.
I am but the servant of my people, and it will always be so.
It is my privilege, my duty, and my destiny.
And so, you see, dear Johnny, Our marriage can never be. Oh, I don't know,
though.
Dear Albert wouldn't mind, would you, dear?
I'll feed his eggs. Oh, there he is. Poor dear, ever since the Crystal
he's been making an exhibition of himself.
Now I'd like to sing the song that made me famous.
Recorded on HMV. Yes, Her Majesty's voice entitled, Turn Your Lamp Down,
Florence. It's getting on me wick. Thank you.
John Brown's body is the one that I adore.
He sweeps me off my feet although he's only five foot four.
His legs are strong and hairy and they reach right to the floor. How I love my
little John.
Glory, glory, hallelujah.
Victoria is going to woo you.
You really got it coming to you.
Hold your hat on little John.
Victoria, Victoria, you're all the world to me.
I really must see more of you. There's plenty there to see.
You're the finest range of mountains from the Trossachs to Dundee. How she
her little John.
When we dally with Disraeli, we are really not amused. But my Johnny's
whimsicalities just cannot be refused.
Do you want to dance the hornpipe? Do I want to be excused? How she loves her
little John.
Thank you.
Well, that's all for this week. Next week, we shall be talking to Fanny
Craddock, who announced this evening that she is to join Women's Lib.
When she was asked if this would mean she would be burning her bra, she said,
no, darling, I'll 30 it with onions and a little white wine.
Now, finally, some late news items.
It is ten years exactly since the president of Karamba, Senor Carioca, had
unfortunate encounter with the steamroller.
In the Caramban capital today, a portrait of the president was unveiled.
The painting is life -size, 38 foot long and two inches wide.
Short -sighted Lady Myopia Potheringay opened the new haberdashery centre at
Slough today by cutting a ceremonial ribbon.
As she did so, a large crowd cheered and her knickers fell down.
And finally, in Covent Garden today, Mr. Dudley Arkwright ate 622 radishes in 6
minutes and 23 seconds.
Unfortunately, this doesn't count as a world record, as he had a following win.
And now it's goodnight from me. And it's goodnight from him. Goodnight.