Monty Python's Previous Record Embarassment 1 Dennis Moore 1 Money Programme 1 Dennis Moore Continues 2 Australian Table Wines 2 Argument Clinic 3 Dennis Moore is not 6 Fish License 6 Miss Anne Elk 7 Embarassment (Gustaf Sjöblom Juni 1995) MP: Not this record! Not this record! Not this record! EI: Are you embarrassed easily? I am. But it's nothing to worry about. It's all part of growing up and being British. This course is designed to eliminate embarrassment Dennis Moore England, 1747 (Sounds of a coach and horses, galloping) John Cleese: Stand and deliver! Chapman: Not on your life (SHOT) ... aagh! (Girl screams) John Cleese: Let that be a warning to you all. You move at your peril, for I have two pistols here. I know one of them isn't loaded any more, but the other one is, so that's one of you dead for sure...or just about for sure anyway. It certainly wouldn't be worth your while risking it because I'm a very good shot. I practise every day...well, not absolutely every day, but most days in the week. I expect I must practise, oh, at least four or five times a week...or more, really, but some weekends, like last weekend, there really wasn't the time, so that brings the average down a bit. I should say it's definetely a solid four days' practice a week...At least...I mean...I reckon I could hit that tree over there. Er...the one just behind that hillock. The little hillock, not the big one on the...you see the three trees over there? Well, the one furthest away on the right... (fade) Money Programme Eric Idle sits at a desk between Michael Palin and John Cleese. He begins quietly but becomes increasingly agitated as he speaks. Eric Idle: Good evening, and welcome to The Money Programme. Tonight on The Money Programme, we're going to look at money. Lots of it. On film, and in the studio. Some of it in nice piles, others in lovely clanky bits of loose change. Some of it neatly counted into fat little hundreds, delicate fivers stuffed into bulging wallets, nice crisp clean checks, pert pieces of copper coinage thrust deep into trouser pockets, romantic foreign money rolling against the thigh with rough familiarity, beautiful wayward curlicued banknotes, filigreed copper plating cheek by jowl with tumbly ( ? ) rubbing gently against the terse leather of beautifully balanced bank books!! (He looks around in surprised realization that he's panting and screaming) Eric Idle: I'm sorry. (adjusts tie, darts eyes around room) Eric Idle: But I love money. All money. (growing excited again) I've always wanted money. To handle! To touch! The smell of the rain-washed florin! The lure of the lira! The glitter and the glory of the guinea! (stands up ) The romance of the ruble! (stands on chair) The feel of the franc! (stands on desk) The heel of the deutschmark! (stomps foot) The cold antiseptic sting of the Swiss franc! And the sunburnt splendor of the Australian dollar! (slaps knee) (sings the rest while dancing across desk; Michael and John just look at him blandly.) I've got ninety thousand pounds in my bank account. I've got forty thousand French francs in my fridge. I've got lots and lots of lira, Now the deutschmark's getting dearer, And my dollar bill could buy the Brooklyn Bridge. There is... (enter a chorus of 5 men in women's pilgrim costumes) ...nothing quite as wonderful as money! There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash! Some people say it's folly, but I'd rather have the lolly (?), With money you can make a splash! (chorus kneels ans sings "money, money, money" through Idle's solos ) There is nothing quite as wonderful as money! There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash! Everyone must hanker for the butchness of a banker (all give Italian Salute) It's the currency that makes the world go round! (a harp is wheeled across the stage but not played) You can keep your Marxist ways, for it's only just a phase... Money, money, money makes the world go round! (play money falls from above as chorus reaches a glorious crescendo) Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! (Fade up again) Dennis Moore Continues John Cleese: What's the... the one like that with the leaves that are sort of regularly veined and the veins go right out with a sort of um... Girl: Serrated? John Cleese: Serrated edges. Id: A willow! John Cleese: Yes. Id: That's nothing like a willow. John Cleese: Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven times out of ten, that's the point. Id: Never a willow. John Cleese: Shut up! It's a hold-up, not a Botany lesson. Now, no false moves please. I want you to hand over all the lupins you've got. Jones: Lupins? John Cleese: Yes, lupins. Come on, come on. Id: What do you mean, lupins? John Cleese: Don't try to play for time. Id: I'm not, but... the *flower* lupin? John Cleese: Yes, that's right. Jo: Well we haven't got any lupins. Girl: Honestly. John Cleese: Look, my friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express. Jo: Damn! Girl: Oh, here you are. John Cleese: In a bunch, in a bunch! Jo: Sorry. John Cleese: Come on, Concorde! (Gallops off) Chorus (sings): Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, galloping through the sward, Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, and his horse Concorde. He steals from the rich, he gives to the poor, Mr Moore, Mr Moore, Mr Moore. Australian Table Wines A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette, but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain. "Black Stump Bordeaux" is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured Burgundy, whilst a good "Sydney Syrup" can rank with any of the world's best sugary wines. "Chateau Bleu", too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and its lingering afterburn. "Old Smokey, 1968" has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret, whilst the Australian wino society thouroughly recommends a 1970 "Coq du Rod Laver", which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: 8 bottles of this, and you're really finished -- at the opening of the Sydney Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an hour. Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is "Perth Pink". This is a bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!. This is not a wine for drinking -- this is a wine for laying down and avoiding. Another good fighting wine is "Melbourne Old-and-Yellow", which is particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat. Quite the reverse is true of "Chateau Chunder", which is an Appelachian controle, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation -- a fine wine which really opens up the sluices at both ends. Real emetic fans will also go for a "Hobart Muddy", and a prize winning "Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wogga Wogga", which has a bouquet like an aborigine's armpit. Argument Clinic From "Monty Python's Previous Record" and "Monty Python's Instant Record Collection" Originally transcribed by Dan Kay (dan@reed.uucp) Fixed up and Added "Complaint" and "Being Hit On The Head lessons" Aug/ 87 by Tak Ariga (tak@gpu.utcs.toronto.edu) The Cast (in order of appearance.) M= Man looking for an argument R= Receptionist Girl Q= Abuser A= Arguer John Cleese C= Complainer Eric Idle H= Head Hitter M: Ah. I'd like to have an argument, please. R: Certainly sir. Have you been here before? M: No, I haven't, this is my first time. R: I see. Well, do you want to have just one argument, or were you thinking of taking a course? M: Well, what is the cost? R: Well, It's one pound for a five minute argument, but only eight pounds for a course of ten. M: Well, I think it would be best if I perhaps started off with just the one and then see how it goes. R: Fine. Well, I'll see who's free at the moment. Pause R: Mr. DeBakey's free, but he's a little bit conciliatory. Ahh yes, Try Mr. Barnard; room 12. M: Thank you. (Walks down the hall. Opens door.) Q: WHAT DO YOU WANT? M: Well, I was told outside that... Q: Don't give me that, you snotty-faced heap of parrot droppings! M: What? Q: Shut your festering gob, you tit! Your type really makes me puke, you vacuous, coffee-nosed, maloderous, pervert!!! M: Look, I CAME HERE FOR AN ARGUMENT, I'm not going to just stand...!! Q: OH, oh I'm sorry, but this is abuse. M: Oh, I see, well, that explains it. Q: Ah yes, you want room 12A, Just along the corridor. M: Oh, Thank you very much. Sorry. Q: Not at all. M: Thank You. (Under his breath) Stupid git!! (Walk down the corridor) M: (Knock) A: Come in. M: Ah, Is this the right room for an argument? A: I told you once. M: No you haven't. A: Yes I have. M: When? A: Just now. M: No you didn't. A: Yes I did. M: You didn't A: I did! M: You didn't! A: I'm telling you I did! M: You did not!! A: Oh, I'm sorry, just one moment. Is this a five minute argument or the full half hour? M: Oh, just the five minutes. A: Ah, thank you. Anyway, I did. M: You most certainly did not. A: Look, let's get this thing clear; I quite definitely told you. M: No you did not. A: Yes I did. M: No you didn't. A: Yes I did. M: No you didn't. A: Yes I did. M: No you didn't. A: Yes I did. M: You didn't. A: Did. M: Oh look, this isn't an argument. A: Yes it is. M: No it isn't. It's just contradiction. A: No it isn't. M: It is! A: It is not. M: Look, you just contradicted me. A: I did not. M: Oh you did!! A: No, no, no. M: You did just then. A: Nonsense! M: Oh, this is futile! A: No it isn't. M: I came here for a good argument. A: No you didn't; no, you came here for an argument. M: An argument isn't just contradiction. A: It can be. M: No it can't. An argument is a connected series of statements intended to establish a proposition. A: No it isn't. M: Yes it is! It's not just contradiction. A: Look, if I argue with you, I must take up a contrary position. M: Yes, but that's not just saying 'No it isn't.' A: Yes it is! M: No it isn't! M: Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is just the automatic gainsaying of any statement the other person makes. (short pause) A: No it isn't. M: It is. A: Not at all. M: Now look. A: (Rings bell) Good Morning. M: What? A: That's it. Good morning. M: I was just getting interested. A: Sorry, the five minutes is up. M: That was never five minutes! A: I'm afraid it was. M: It wasn't. Pause A: I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to argue anymore. M: What?! A: If you want me to go on arguing, you'll have to pay for another five minutes. M: Yes, but that was never five minutes, just now. Oh come on! A: (Hums) M: Look, this is ridiculous. A: I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid! M: Oh, all right. (pays money) A: Thank you. short pause M: Well? A: Well what? M: That wasn't really five minutes, just now. A: I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid. M: I just paid! A: No you didn't. M: I DID! A: No you didn't. M: Look, I don't want to argue about that. A: Well, you didn't pay. M: Aha. If I didn't pay, why are you arguing? I Got you! A: No you haven't. M: Yes I have. If you're arguing, I must have paid. A: Not necessarily. I could be arguing in my spare time. M: Oh I've had enough of this. A: No you haven't. M: Oh Shut up. (Walks down the stairs. Opens door.) M: I want to complain. C: You want to complain! Look at these shoes. I've only had them three weeks and the heels are worn right through. M: No, I want to complain about... C: If you complain nothing happens, you might as well not bother. M: Oh! C: Oh my back hurts, it's not a very fine day and I'm sick and tired of this office. (Slams door. walks down corridor, opens next door.) M: Hello, I want to... Ooooh! H: No, no, no. Hold your head like this, then go Waaah. Try it again. M: uuuwwhh!! H: Better, Better, but Waah, Waah! Put your hand there. M: No. H: Now.. M: Waaaaah!!! H: Good, Good! That's it. M: Stop hitting me!! H: What? M: Stop hitting me!! H: Stop hitting you? M: Yes! H: Why did you come in here then? M: I wanted to complain. H: Oh no, that's next door. It's being-hit-on-the-head lessons in here. M: What a stupid concept. Dennis Moore is not Choir: Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore is not in this bit Burying the cat/Putting your budgie down Transcribed from Monty Python's Previous Record Mrs Premise : John Cleese Mrs Conclusion: Graham Chapman Mrs ConclusionHello Mrs Premise! Mrs Premise Ooh, hello Mrs Conclusion! Mrs ConclusionBusy day? Mrs Premise Busy!? I just spent four hours burying the cat. Mrs ConclusionFour hours to bury the cat? Mrs Premise Yes, it wouldn't keep still, wriggling about, 'owling. Mrs ConclusionOh, it's not dead then? Mrs Premise Oh no no, but it's not at all a well cat and as we're going away for a fourtnight, I thought to better bury it just to be on the safe side. Mrs ConclusionRight, right. You don't want to come back from Sorrento to a dead cat, do you? Mrs Premise Yes. Mrs ConclusionWe've decided to have the budgie put down. Mrs Premise Oh, is it very old then? Mrs ConclusionNo, we just don't like 'it. Mrs Premise Aww...How do they put budgies down? Mrs ConclusionIt's funny you should ask that. I've been reading a great big book on how to put your budgie down, and evidently you can either hit them with the book, or you can shoot them there, just above the beak. Mrs Premise Mmmm...Mrs Essence flushed hers down the loo. Mrs ConclusionOh, that's dangerous, 'cause they breed in the sewers and eventually you get huge evil smelling flocks of soil budgies, flying out of peoples lavatories infringing their personal freedom. 1Fish License Transcribed 4/18/87 from Monty Python's Previous Record Man: (whistles a bit, then) Hello. I would like to buy a fish licence, please. Postal Clerk: A what? Man: A licence for my pet fish, Eric. Postal Clerk: How did you know my name was Eric? Man: No, no, no! My fish's name is Eric. Eric fish. He's an halibut. Postal Clerk: What? Man: He is an halibut. Postal Clerk: You've got a pet halibut? Man: Yes, I chose him out of thousands. I didn't like the others, they were all too flat. Postal Clerk: You must be a loony. Man: I am not a loony. Why should I be tarred with the epithet 'loony' merely because I have a pet halibut? I've heard tell that Sir Gerald Nabarro has a pet prawn called Simon - you wouldn't call him a loony! Furthermore Dawn Pathorpe, the lady showjumper, had a clam called Stafford, after the late chancellor. Alan Bullock has two pikes, both called Chris, and Marcel Proust had an 'addock! So if you're calling the author of 'A la recherche de temps perdu' a loony, I shall have to ask you to step outside! Postal Clerk: All right, all right, all right. A licence? Man: Yes! Postal Clerk: For a fish. Man: Yes! Postal Clerk: You *are* a loony. Man: Look, it's a bleeding pet, isn't it? I've got a licence for me pet dog Eric, I've got a licence for me pet cat Eric. Postal Clerk: You don't need a licence for your cat. Man: I bleedin' well do and I've got one! Can't be caught out there! Postal Clerk: There is no such thing as a bloody Cat Licence. Man: Yes there is. Postal Clerk: No there isn't. Man: Is! Postal Clerk: Isn't! Man: I've bleedin' got one, look! What's that then? Postal Clerk: This is a dog licence with the word 'dog' crossed out and 'cat' written in in crayon. Man: Man didn't have the right form. Postal Clerk: What man? Man: The man from the cat detector van. Postal Clerk: The loony detector van, you mean. Man: Look, it's people like you what cause unrest. Postal Clerk: What cat detector van? Man: The cat detector van from the Ministry of Housinge. Postal Clerk: Housinge? Man: It was spelt like that on the van. I'm very observant. I never seen so many bleedin' aerials. The man said their equipment could pinpoint a purr at four hundred yards, and Eric being such a happy cat was a piece of cake. Postal Clerk: How much did you pay for this? Man: Sixty quid and eight for the fruit-bat. Postal Clerk: What fruit-bat? Man: Eric the fruit-bat. Postal Clerk: Are all your pets called Eric? Man: There's nothing so odd about that. Kemel Attaturk2 had an entire menagerie called Abdul. Postal Clerk: No he didn't. Man: Did! Postal Clerk: Didn't! Man: Did, did, did, did, did and did! Postal Clerk: Oh all right. Man: Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a fish licence? Postal Clerk: I promise you that there is no such thing. You don't need one. Man: In that case give me a bee licence. Postal Clerk: A licence for your pet bee. Man: Correct. Postal Clerk: Called Eric? Eric the bee? Man: No. Postal Clerk: No? Man: No, Eric the half bee. He had an accident. Postal Clerk: You're off your chump. Man: Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquialism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or even to deny the semi-existence of my little chum Eric the half bee, I shall have to ask you to listen to this. Take it away, Eric the orchestra-leader. Eric Idle: A one, two, a one two three four! Man (sings): Half a bee, philosophically, Must, ipso facto, half not be. But half the bee has got to be Vis a vis, its entity. D'you see? But can a bee be said to be Or not to be an entire bee When half the bee is not a bee Due to some ancient injury? Chorus: La dee dee, one two three, Eric the half a bee. A B C D E F G, Eric the half a bee. Man:Is this wretched demi-bee, Half-asleep upon my knee, Some freak from a menagerie? No! It's Eric the half a bee! Chorus: Fiddle de dum, Fiddle de dee, Eric the half a bee. Ho ho ho, tee hee hee, Eric the half a bee. Man: I love this hive, implore ye-ee, Bisected accidentally, One summer afternoon by me, I love him carnally. Chorus: He loves him carnally, Semi-carnally. Man: The end. Postal Clerk:´Cyril Connolly? Man: No, semi-carnally! Postal Clerk: Oh. Chorus: Cyril Connolly. (Whistle end of tune.) Miss Anne Elk as transcribed by Tim Pointing, DCIEM 870914 From "Monty Python's Previous Record" Cast: Chris (Interviewer) Anne Elk Chris: Good evening. Tonight: "dinosaurs". I have here, sitting in the studio next to me, an elk. Ahhhh!!! Oh, I'm sorry! Anne Elk - Mrs Anne Elk Anne: Miss! C: Miss Anne Elk, who is an expert on di... A: N' n' n' n' no! Anne Elk! C: What? A: Anne Elk, not Anne Expert! C: No! No, I was saying that you, Miss Anne Elk, were an , A-N not A-N-N-E, expert... A: Oh! C: ...on elks - I'm sorry, on dinosaurs. I'm ... A: Yes, I certainly am, Chris. How very true. My word yes. C: Now, Miss Elk - Anne - you have a new theory about the brontosaurus. A: Can I just say here, Chris for one moment, that I have a new theory about the brontosaurus? C: Uh... Exactly... What is it? A: Where? C: No! No, what is your theory? A: What is my theory? C: Yes! A: What is my theory that it is? Yes. Well, you may well ask what is my theory. C: I am asking. A: And well you may. Yes, my word, you may well ask what it is, this theory of mine. Well, this theory, that I have, that is to say, which is mine,... is mine. C: I know it's yours! What is it? A: ... Where? ... Oh! Oh! What is my theory? C: Yes! A: Ahh! My theory, that I have, follows the lines that I am about to relate. [starts prolonged throat clearing] C: [under breath] Oh, God! [Anne still clearing throat] A: The Theory, by A. Elk (that's "A" for Anne", it's not by a elk.) C: Right... A: [clears throat] This theory, which belongs to me, is as follows... [more throat clearing] This is how it goes... [clears throat] The next thing that I am about to say is my theory. [clears throat] Ready? C: [wimpers] A: The Theory, by A. Elk [Miss]. My theory is along the following lines... C: [under breath]God! A: ...All brontosauruses are thin at one end; much, much thicker in the middle and then thin again at the far end. That is the theory that I have and which is mine and what it is, too. C: That's it, is it? A: Right, Chris! C: Well, Anne, this theory of yours seems to have hit the nail right on the head. A: ... and it's mine. C: Thank you for coming along to the studio. A: My pleasure, Chris. C: Britain's newest wasp farm... A: It's been a lot of fun... C: ...opened last week... A: ...saying what my theory is... C: ... Yes, thank you. A: ...and whose it is. C: Yes.... opened last week... A: I have another theory. C: Not today, thank you. A: My theory #2, which is the second theory that I have. [clears throat]. This theory... C: Look! Shut up! A: ...is what I am about to say. C: Please shut up! A: which, with what I have said, are the two theories that are mine and which belong to me. C: If you don't shut up, I shall have to shoot you! A: [clears throat] My xxx theory, which I posses the ownership of, which belongs to... [Sound of a single gun shot] A: [clearing throat] The Theory the Second, by Anne... [Sound of prolonged machine gun fire] How to do it Transcribed from Monty Python's Previous Record. Alan : John Cleese Jackie : Eric Idle GC : Graham Chapman (he's never given a name in the sketch) AlanHello children! Jackie Hello! GC Hello! AlanWell, last week we showed you how to be a gynaecologist, and this week on "How to do it", we're gonna learn how to play the flute, how to split the atom, how to construct box-girder bridges... Jackie Super! Alan...and how to irrigate the Sahara and make vast new areas cultivatable, but first here's Jackie to tell you how to rid the world of all known diseases. Jackie Hello Alan! AlanHello Jackie! Jackie Well first of all, become a doctor and discover a marvellous cure for something and then, when the medical world really starts to take notice of you, you can jolly well tell them what to do and make sure they get everything right, so that there'll never be diseases anymore. AlanThanks Jackie, that was great! GC Fantastic! AlanNow, how to play the flute. Well, you blow in one end and move your fingers up and down the outside. GC Great Alan! Well, next week we'll be showing you how black and white people can live together in peace and harmony and Alan will be over in Moscow showing you how to reconcile the Russians and the Chinese. Till then, cheerio! AlanBye! Jackie Bye bye! GC Bye! Eclipse of the sun And nowfor the first time ever on recordwe proudly present the 1972 Eclipse of the sun! Starring John Cleese as Brian Eric Idle as Peter Graham Chapman as Jim And Terry Jones as the man with the megaphone And as the narrator Michael Palin Brian Well, here we are at Lords, waiting for the eclipse of the sun...Peter. Peter Yes, the ground's in tip-top condition and I think we can expect some first rate eclipsing this morning...Brian. Brian Well, we're certainly all looking forward to it very much up here...Jim. Jim And to look at the eclipse of the sun through... Peter Of the sun through? Jim Yes, to look at the eclipse of the sun through... Brian I don't understand. Jim To look through, at the eclipse of the sun... Brian What? Jim I haven't finished...We have this surely, magnificent... Brian Absolutely. Jim ...quite superb... Brian Hear, hear. Jim Quite agree. Peter What? Jim Eh...piece of smoked glass. Brian Absolutely. Jim Which must be fully... Brian easily... Peter Must be! Brian Absolutely. Jim No question. Peter Jolly good! Terry Start again! Jim Well, here we are at Lord's with this piece of smoked trout... Peter ...glass! Jim Oh, please?...oh, oh, glass!...waiting quite superbly for the eclipse of the sunlike object. Brian And here, if I'm very much mistaken, comes the eclipse. Jim Yes, you are very much mistaken. Here it comes...Peter. Peter Yes, I can't see anyone stopping it now! Brian No, it's all over bar the shouting. Jim The sands of time must surely be drawing to a close for this plucky solar......oh!? Brian Oh!? Peter Oh!? Jim Oh. Brian Rain! Peter Rain! Jim Rain...Uh-hmm....Well, what a shame, the rain is beginning to come down now here at Lord's.. Brian Light's going, too... Peter Yes, going really quite fast... Jim Mind you, it's getting quite murky up here now... Brian You can hardly see your glass in front of your face... Jim What a shame. Well, that's it from Lord's then, I'm afraid, but we'll be back here again the moment there is any sign of improvement. Narrator Well, while we're waiting to take you back to Lord's, we play you a recording of Alistair Cook being attacked by a duck. _______________________________ 1 Man: John Cleese Postal Clerk: Michael Palin 2 Kemal Atatürk (Mustafa Kemal) 1881-1938; President i Turkiet 1923-1938.