Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Written by Eric Idle Main cast: Eric Idle, David Battley, Henry Woolf, Neil Innes, Gwen Taylor, Terence Bayler, etc., etc. From 1975 and 1976, BBC2. Transcribed by Bonnie Rose, Laurie Stevens, SOTCAA, Garrett Gilchrist Visit http://orangecow.org/pythonet/rwt -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From Rutland Weekend Television Episode 101 by Eric Idle -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Opening Night" ---------------------- (Rutland Weekend theme tune - "L'Amour Perdu" - and animated credits roll.) (EMCEE [Eric Idle], SITTING IN A CHEAP ANNOUNCER SET, WEARING A LOUD CHECKED SUIT AND A BLONDE WIG A LA DIDDY DAVID HAMILTON. SOUNDS OF PARTYING ARE HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND. HE GUSHES IN A GURGLY, EXCITED MANNER.) EMCEE: Good evening, and a very very special welcome to the very very first evening's viewing on Rutland Weekend Television. Tonight is a very very special occasion, as you can imagine. There's a very very special party going on, as you can imagine, live in the centre of Rutland tonight, as you can imagine. All the stars, as you can imagine, are there, waiting to talk to Pete Murray, as you can imagine. But before we go over there I'm gonna have a little something here with you to celebrate, as you can imagine. (OPENS BOTTLE OF CHAMPAGNE, AND ATTEMPTS TO POUR SOME INTO A GLASS. THE BOTTLE IS TOTALLY EMPTY. IDLE KEEPS SMILING, TOSSES THE BOTTLE TOP ASIDE AND GIGGLES, OBVIOUSLY A BIT CRESTFALLEN) EMCEE: Great. Well we'll be going over to the party at the moment, as you can imagine, but right now we're all set to enjoy the very first programme on Rutland Weekend Television. (LOOKS TOWARDS MONITOR) "Gibberish" ---------------- HOST [Eric]: Ham sandwich, bucket and water plastic duralex rubber McFisheries' underwear. Plugged rabbit emulsion, zinc custard without sustainance in kippling-duff geriatric scenery, maximizes press insulating government grunting sapphire-clubs incidentally. But tonight, sam pan bombay bermuda in diptheria rustic McAlpine splendor, rabbit and and futfutfooey jugs rapidly big biro ruveliners musk-green gauges micturate with nipples and tiptoe rusting machinery, rustically inclined. Good evening and welcome. AGED GUEST [Henry Woolf]: Helloo. HOST: (to guest) Foreskin mousetrap view Mount Everest tintray lobotomy in England? GUEST: Saddleback, saddleback. Lechery billboard kettlebum simpering snuff masticated bowelside handset lemonade enterprisingly apartheid rubberized plumbjoint curvaceously mucking squirrels! HOST: I see. Rapidly piddlepot strumming Hanover peace pudding (polite chuckle) mouse rumpling cuddly corridor cabinets? GUEST: Sick in a cup! Toejam whisper tap sunderland shower-curtain, ice wallpaper cups grounchingly rubberking wrapped butter kissing-feathers defnitely pheasantry daughter successfully douche dinner-bottom. HOST: (in confidential way) Machine-wrapped, with butter? GUEST: Machine-wrapped, with butter. HOST: (to audience) So, nail-attacking butterfly-clouts reputedly. Without I might galvanize sugar, elbow-wrenchingly heartfelt until purse-playing perspicaceously rattled mandibled on asinine shoestring-drawn two lost three butter-machismo whenever cobbled therein. Good night. GUEST: Good niight. (We return to the emcee. He does a confused double-take at the monitor.) EMCEE: Er...well that was...as you can imagine. Just a reminder that we'll be going over later to this terrific party that they're having to celebrate the opening of Rutland Weekend Television but er... (THE CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE ON THE TABLE POPS OPEN AND A VOLCANIC QUANITY OF FLUID SPURTS OUT ALL OVER HIM. IDLE CONTINUES GUSHING AND SMILING) ...right now we're gonna have some lovely music and er, ha ha, great. As you can imagine. "Star of the Sexy Movies" Lyrics by Eric Idle Music by Neil Innes Sung by Neil Innes ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ (An uninteresting man - Peter Glidewell? - walks through the streets of Rutland, passing by various dirty-looking men in raincoats, and advertisements for XX films.) NEIL (singing): This man to all appearances is an ordinary man You wouldn't think to look at him that he had a single friend The dirty mackintosh brigade pass him by without a glance Yet if he took off his clothes right now he'd be boffed by all at once Yes he's the star of the sexy movies (oh yeahhh!) Though his life is rather grim (ooo-ooh!) For wherever he goes, when he's wearing clothes nobody recognizes him He was Mister Kinks the milkman in "Peeping Tom Came 2" He played the alcoholic in "Bathroom Frolic" and the bishop in "Kinda Blue" We never saw his face in "The Dirty Boat Race" with the opulent Cambridge cock He was the one with the friend third from the end who never took off his sock Yes he's the star of the naughty movies Oh what a life he's led On bouncin' springs and all kinds of things He's the king of the king-size bed He played well-hung Roger in "The Artful Lodger" Brian in "Whips Ahoy" (Whips Ahoy!) He was Wicked Keith in "Sex Without Teeth" The one with the vicar and the big blonde boy He played the lead in "She Stayed and Peed" Though his part was rather small (oooh!) And it was tiny too in "The Girls Who Do" You could hardly see it at all! Yes he's the star of the dirty movies And at night they film away But when morning comes he rejoins his chums A policeman during the day Yes he's the star of the sexy movies With a back like Desi O'Shea (?) But back on the beat he's kind of sweet a policeman during the day Oh yeah (The man puts on a police helmet, smiles, and salutes the camera.) POLICEMAN: Evenin' all! (When we return to the studio, Idle is mopping himself down with a towel.) EMCEE (CHUCKLING) Well that was just great, as you can imagine. Well, this whole evening is such fun and everyone's tremendously excited, as you can imagine, and now it's time to go over live to the party. (CAPTION: 'NORMAL SERVICE WILL BE RESUMED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE' WHICH IMMEDIATELY CATCHES FIRE.) (CUT BACK TO IDLE, STILL GUSHING.) IDLE Well, great, just a few slight teething problems, as you can imagine, so let's go over now instead to, er... (FLOUNDERS) um, something else...great. (We have not transcribed the Prisoner About to Be Executed/Hiding Under Priest/Strange Societies Sketch.) (Idle sits in a chair, with a looney woman in green hair sitting just off to the side. Eric reads a magazine.) ANNOUNCER (Idle): In his spare time, he likes to relax with Boys Will Be Boys, the official organ of the A.A., a group he is not a member of, but is thinking of joining. He has also founded the society for introducing Neil Innes songs, which will never catch on. (Idle gets angry at this, and looks directly at camera.) IDLE: Oh yes it will! (holds up fish) Won't it, Pearl? (holds up another fish) Won't it, Teddy? (to camera) And now, here's Neil Innes. (A bizarre, cheesy entertainer with a fat gorilla's belly and a blonde wig steps out on stage ... all sequins and smiles. His makeup looks a bit David Bowie.) STOOP SOLO: Hi there. ERIC: See? (Eric tosses the fish down. STOOP SOLO: My name is Solo. Stoop Solo. I do amazing things ... But right now I'd like to sing for you. -------------------------- STOOP SOLO Music and Lyrics by Neil Innes -------------------------- Stormy days (stormy days) Cloudy skies (cloudy skies) Wind and Rain (wind and rain) Got a watery eye (watery eye) Yellow leaves (yellow leaves) Fall from the trees (from the trees) I kick my way (kick my way) Through memories (shut your face) Rain and snow let the four winds blow On my collar there's a long blonde hair Now I know that's all I've got to show For the love we used to share I remember back in June Our love was like a fire And the song in our hearts sounded like a choir But I held onto you like a hand holds water But now it's September and the days get shorter Rain and snow let the four winds blow On my collar there's a long blonde hair Now I know that's all I've got to show For the love we used to share Rain and snow let the four winds blow On my collar there's a long blonde hair Now I know that's all I've got to show For the love... we used... to share Thank you. (Solo comes out of character and, looking off camera, mouths 'Was that alright?' Cut back to Emcee Idle:) EMCEE (ACKNOWLEDGING STOOP SOLO) Just terrific. Well, as you can imagine, we've just heard from the party that Princess Grace of Monaco is definitely... not there. Which is just great. Well, let's now... (THE LIGHTS GO OUT, PLUNGING IDLE INTO DARKNESS) ...oh, oh dear. (THE SOUNDS OF PARTYING TURN TO BOOS AND JEERS. IDLE HOLDS UP A LIGHTER) Oh, well we seem to have a slight...as you can imagine, so let's instead join tonight's documentary film. Great. (The "Royal Rutland Fusiliers" sketch is not transcribed. We'll cut straight to "Churchill's Cat.") CAPTION: THE WEEK AHEAD ON RWT - MONDAY: CHURCHILL'S CAT (captions change throughout, illustrating the voiceover.) ANNOUNCER (IDLE): Next Monday marks the 80th anniversary of the birth of Churchill's cat. Rutland Weekend will be celebrating this event with a four-hour dramatisation of the cat's life, with Sir Laurence Olivier playing the vet and Arthur Askey as 'Puss'. There's also an exhibition of Churchill's cat litters at the Victoria and Albert Museum, and you can buy a memorial medallion with a picture of Churchill and a little pussycat. On Tuesday, at ten-thirty, you can see 'It's The Churchills again'. This non-award-winning 192-part drama series continues with Lulu as Rita McChurchill, the little-known aunt of Fred Churchill who was to grow up to be not a relation of any of the famous ones. Thursday night of course means 'Top Of The Pops'. CLIP FROM SAID PROGRAMME. POP MUSIC PLAYS (actually the intro to Neil Innes' "Frontloader" which features in episode 5.) TYPICAL SWIRLING 70s VIDEO FX. WINSTON CHURCHILL DANCES TO THIS A LA PAN'S PEOPLE. IT LOOKS QUITE UNNERVING. CAPTION: 'CHURCHILL'S PEOPLE'. ANNOUNCER: Well you can see more of Churchill's People on Top Of The Rutland Pops on Thursday. Just some of the things you can look forward to on Rutland Weekend. (return to Idle, still in darkness, no sounds of partying, booing or otherwise and a small lantern on the table:) IDLE: Well I'm afraid that, as you can imagine, that's about it for this week. We shall maybe go over live to the party next week if there's still anybody there, as you can imagine. (WE HEAR AN OMINOUS CREAKING SOUND) Until then, a big kiss from me and see you next week, as you can imagine... (THE CEILING STARTS TO COLLAPSE, COVERING IDLE WITH DEBRIS. HE SMILES THROUGHOUT) ...just great... ha ha... terrific... ha ha... (Roll end credits to the tune of "L'Amour Perdu.") ANNOUNCER (Timothy Carlton): Rutland Weekend Television is closing down now, so we leave you in the hands of the next, rather lovely BBC announcer. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Episode 2 by Eric Idle --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "COME DANCING" EMCEE (Idle): Maestro, take me away, please. SAY SORRY AGAIN Music and Lyrics by Neil Innes --- (This is sung against bluescreen. Neil Innes plays three Marx Brothers - Groucho sings the song, Chico accompanies on piano, Harpo accompanies on bicycle wheel and horn.) GROUCHO: Two dodos stood back to back Refusing to say a word Having a lovers' quarrel Over something truly absurd "But you're the last of your species!" The other animals cried "Make up your differences, do Forget your foolish pride!" And say sorry again Say sorry again Never mind who's to blame there's no sense in calling names So say sorry again Don't let a good love die You can be combined, two hearts intertwined If you say sorry again But the dodos remained unmoved And as the sun began to sink She held her head up high And he pretended to think All the animals cried in dismay Saying "What's the good of advice to creatures such as dodos who find stubbornness so nice?" Say sorry again say sorry again Why don't you admit you were wrong Oh ,why is your will so strong? Just say sorry again An apology isn't so bad The whole human race will spit in your face If you don't say sorry again! believe me... Take it away. (Groucho exits as Harpo plays a solo on the bicycle wheel.) Well the proof of the animal's wisdom is quite apparent today How many dodos do you know? They're not even put on display! So say sorry again Say sorry again When the last bell is rung Don't just stick out your tongue Just say sorry again! (Chico plays a final piano riff as Groucho bumps into Harpo. Groucho gets pissed off and leaves, leaving Harpo confused.) (We return to the flowery-shirted host [Henry Woolf], who seems to be changing somehow.) HOST HENRY: Well, that was cookery time. And now, Floodlit Rugby League. (A title graphic reads "Philosophy Corner," written in big stone letters. A man with a big fake moustache sits at a chair.) BIG FAKE MOUSTACHE MAN: (Eric) Hello. Tonight on Philosophy Corner, we'll have a film report on a new philosopher, Kung Fucius ... (He looks offscreen, left. A gong. Two chinese man [Battley and Idle] stand in front of an oriental screen and bow to each other. Kung Fucius (Idle): Kung Fucius. He say ...... HAAA! YAAAA! DAAAA! WAAAA!! (Kung Fucius kicks the crap out of his student, who curls up into a fetal position on the floor.) Student (Battley): Ohhhh ... (Kung Fucius bows to the camera. Gong sound and caption.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: Kung Fucius! The aggressive philosophy. (Back to the moustache man.) MOUSTACHE MAN: We'll be examining a new theory of Noam Chomsky's that Plato wore no panties, and we'll be bringing you some more entries in our "Abuse A Philosopher" competition in which a chemist from Tidemouth has called Nietzsche "a silly little oyk", a Mrs. Harpinton of Leicester has said that Jean Jacques Rousseau was "a froggy fatty", and a (Miss) Pamela Bettermint of the Tenements Billston has referred to Empedocles of Agrigus as "a half-baked bubble git with the brains of a berk". But first, we examine a report that leading West End stores are selling their own philosophy. And we ask the question, is the viability of empirical knowledge simply the denial of a priori concepts of essense, or is the existential state, in the teleological sense of Karl Popper's falsifiability criterion, another form of Occam's razor, or is it all just a big con? Ray Laycock is chief philosophy salesman at a leading London West End store. (He looks offscreen, left. We show Ray Laycock [David Battley] standing behind the counter of a posh-looking shop.) RAY: This is simply not true. In this store's philosophy department we provide the best, the most exclusive, and certainly the most expensive philosophy in the world. What is more, our philosophy is sold by proper salesmen in suits and not flogged by scruffy little Indians! Mr. Plato? (Mr. Plato, a well-dressed man in coke bottle glasses, comes up to Mr. Laycock.) MR. PLATO: (Eric) Yes sir? RAY: This gentleman is interested in learning a little of our store's philosophy. (A man with large sideburns and a Johnny Cash wig on [Neil] stands waiting for service. Laycock exits.) MR. PLATO: Certainly sir, what income bracket were you thinking of sir? SIDEBURNS MAN: Well, what is there? MR. PLATO: Well, Fortnam & Mason philosophy starts at around 14,000 pounds per annum sir and goes on up, our store's philosophy starts at 20,000 pounds per year. SIDEBURNS MAN: Well, how does it work? MR. PLATO: Well it is based sir on what Immanuel Kant calls "Pure Wealth." We pander to the rich. SIDEBURNS MAN: Isn't that a bit sycophantic? MR. PLATO: It's much much more rewarding sir. MR. PLATO: Marshall & Snellgrove's philosophy states that "If a man has no money, he is as a tiny piece of ordure in the sight of extremely rich people." SIDEBURNS MAN: I see. MR. PLATO: It is as easy sir for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven as it is to stick a needle in a camel. Over the bridge sir, pets department, where Maudling the camel awaits the doubter's needle. Conclusive proof I feel sir. (The man rubs his chin in thought.) SIDEBURNS MAN: Hmmm. Well, unfortunately I'm rather poor. MR. PLATO: If you are poor sir then you should sell all you have and give it to the extremely rich. SIDEBURNS MAN: Well what's the point of that? MR. PLATO: Well it makes them much much much richer sir. Harrod's philosophy teaches that all wealth belongs to the extremely rich. SIDEBURNS MAN: Yes, but someone could always steal from the rich. MR. PLATO: Then they must be killed sir, for it is better to be dead than poor. This is a maxim from our Gift Department. SIDEBURNS MAN: So if I was to lose all my money... MR. PLATO: Then our Philosophy Department would betray you to our Funeral Department. SIDEBURNS MAN: Ah, but I've already left my body to Swann & Edgar. (Mr. Plato gives the man a shocked, dirty look. Cut to footage of a street.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: This cult of leaving bodies to London's West End stores is starting to bother the medical profession, who are fast running out of stiffs to mess about with. (Show two doctors in a dark-lit apartment. One with a moustache [Battley] and a bald one [Innes]. There is a dead female body on the couch.) DOCTOR 1: Yes, we hardly have any left over for parties. (The bald doctor nudges him to shut up.) BALD DOCTOR: Shhh. (Awkward silence.) (The "Fire Lane" and "Cretin Club" sketches are not transcribed. Let's cut to "Talk About.") (Back to the host, who has developed breasts and is now sporting a pink blouse and earrings.) WOOLF: Well, so much for Biggles. And now, here's Omar Sharif and "Cinema". RUSSELL (Eric): Hello, and welcome to ... (he looks annoyedly off camera at Woolf and says this loudly) "Talk About." (CAPTION: "Talk About, with Russell Dean.) (Russell sits in a small studio with a man in a tux - Keith Trapp.) RUSSELL: And tonight, on the program, we have Keith Trapp, who has the reputation of being one of the wittiest men in England ... indeed, in the entire world. Keith, welcome. KEITH: (Neil) Good Evening. RUSSELL: Keith, you have the reputation of being something of a wit. KEITH: Yes. (He smiles. Awkward pause.) RUSSELL: People say that as a natural talker you are remarkably witty, and extremely funny. KEITH: Yes. (Awkward pause. Russell is getting nervous.) RUSSELL: Do you find being witty easy? KEITH: Oh, yes. RUSSELL: You, you don't find it a constant strain to be expected to keep up this elegant banter? KEITH: No. (The silence is deafening.) RUSSELL: No? You don't find it tiring, people expecting you to be witty and full of elan and aphorisms the whole time? KEITH: No. RUSSELL: I see. Have you always been witty? KEITH: Yes. RUSSELL: And this, uh ... celebrated wit, when do you exercise it? (A pause, then Keith looks confused.) KEITH: What? RUSSELL: When do you let the words tumble free in a bumbling cascade of elegant chitchat? KEITH: What? RUSSELL (Flustered): When are you witty? KEITH: Oh, all the time! (silence.) RUSSELL: Please, go on. KEITH: What? RUSSELL: Be witty. KEITH: Oh! (Keith looks confused. There follows a very long silence. Russell gives up and turns to camera.) RUSSELL: Well, from wit... KEITH: (under this) Wit is this... RUSSELL: Yes? KEITH: What? RUSSELL: Please, go on. KEITH: With what? RUSSELL: You were going to be witty. KEITH: No, no, actually, I was going to ask you where the lavatory was. RUSSELL: OH HAHAHAhahahahaa ..... ha ha ..... (Awkwardness as Keith doesn't laugh back.) ... you're serious. KEITH: Yes. RUSSELL: It, it wasn't a... witty remark. KEITH: No. RUSSELL: No. (Russell sighs.) It's just outside the studio on the right. KEITH: Thank you. (Keith leaves. Russell turns to camera.) RUSSELL: Well, from wit, we turn to origami, the ancient art of Japanese folding. (The rest of "Talk About" isn't transcribed ... Gwen Taylor demonstrates how to fold a Japanese person, and Rex and Ron (Woolf and Battley) demonstrate medical impersonations - Rex impersonating an encephalograph. Let's cut to "Communist Cooking.") RUSSELL: Well, good luck on your future medical impersonations, Rex and Ron. (Ron turns away.) RON (David Battley): Not at all. HOST: Well now, it's Cookery Time, introduced, as usual, by Lenin. GRAPHIC: "COOKERY TIME" (Lively opening music) LENIN (David Battley): Hello Comrades! Last week I showed you how to make the party go with the swing, by making pretty little angel cakes. Comrade Trotsky has a different recipe for this, but, uh, we are going to deal with him. But this week I wanted to show you an old Marxist recipe, Marks [Marx] Pudding. MARX (Henry Woolf): Hello Comrades! Here is a recipe I found in the British Museum. First, make some batter, then put the eggs in the batter, then put the batter in the oven. Then wait for the collapse of the entire bourgeois capitalist system. Set the table, politicize the proletariat, replace the decadent bourgeoisie, activate the workers. Remove from the oven, serve from four to six people. (tastes it) Ah! Delicious, if a bit decadent... LENIN: What a wonderful recipe, thank you, Karl. Incidentally, it's still not too late to write in and tell us what your neighbours are doing. But now, here's Joe, with a new way to cook eggs. STALIN (Eric Idle): Capture a dozen eggs. When you've captured them, take them outside, and shoot them. Then, round up the rest of the ingredients, and take them outside, and shoot them. When you've made the omelette, don't trust it: shoot it. (He fires his gun) Then shoot all the rest of the ingredients. (Fires again) Then shoot all the people who've come to eat the omelette. (Fires again) And shoot the little kettle! (bang) And shoot the teapot! (bang) And shoot the ladder! (bang) And shoot everything! (bang) Shoot! (bang) Shoot! (bang) .... Then eat the omelette. LENIN: You can't make an omelette without breaking the kitchen. (singing) Whenever the bourgeoisie get you down, and revisionism's looking blue (Stalin and Marx enter, dancing.) ALL: Get into the kitchen, get out your pans, and cook a little dish or two MARX: Whenever the decline of the capitalist system seems to be coming true ALL: Get into your kitchen, get out your pans, and cook a little dish or two Here's our recipe if you want to be free The future lies in your hands Don't go on bitchin', get into the kitchen And rattle, rattle, rattle them pots and pans STALIN: Whenever you've shot all the people to shoot, and you've shot the firing squad, too Get into the kitchen, get out your pans, and shoot a little dish or two LENIN: Shoot one for me, Joe! ALL: Shoot a little dish or two MARX: Make mine a bourgeois! ALL: Shoot a little dish or two, too STALIN: Toodle-oo! (The three lock arms and dance their way offscreen. Marx is really hoofing it to keep up!) ANOTHER ANNOUNCER (Idle): Joseph Stalin is currently appearing with Cilla Black at the "Talk of the Town", Newkie. Karl Marx is a National Theatre Player. (Back to our host. He has put his feet up showing his pants.) WOOLF: Hello. Well from Swimming, we move on now to our next program, from Earl's Court, the International Rabbit Show. (A Chinese man is eating a meal in a Chinese restaurant, when another Chinese man attacks him. The man fights off the other man easily, without even getting up, and continues to eat.) CAPTION: "KUNG SUEY" ANNOUNCER ERIC: Yes, Kung Suey! The ancient chinese art of defending yourself whilst eating a chinese meal. Developed in Chinese restaurants throughout the ages kung suey can help you to resist armed aggression over dinner. (The eating man continues to fight off assailants throughout, without getting up from his meal. A gong - We freeze frame as his attackers fly out of frame.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: Yes, dine in security with Kung Suey! (The freeze frame ends and the attackers fall to the ground. The man continues to eat his meal.) (Back to the host, who is now wearing a plaid skirt.) WOOLF: Well, she certainly was a stunner. And now, in a similar vein, it's time for Underwater Golf. (A 'KING AND I' SET UP, with Anna and the Yul Brynner-looking King. ANNA SINGS 'GETTING TO KNOW YOU'. ANNA: (speaking) Getting to know you. CHILDREN'S VOICES: Ahhhhhh. ANNA: (singing) Getting to know you, getting to know all about you ...... KING: Haaaaaaaaaaai - ya! (THE YUL BRYNNER CHARACTER BEATS HER UP WITH MARTIAL ARTS MOVES.) CAPTION: 'THE KUNG & I' (Back to the host, who is now wearing a shorter shirt showing off his legs. Wearing lipstick, he also has his hair teased.) WOOLF: Well, you can see that match tomorrow. But now, it's time for football again. TITLE and THEME: "Rutland Weekend Documentary" (We see documentary footage, shot from a distance, of Arthur Sutcliffe entering his house.) ANNOUNCER: (Eric) Arthur Sutcliffe has a problem. Ashamed to talk about it, uncertain about what to do, he has no one to turn to for advice. For Arthur Sutcliffe is normal. Although there are millions like him who suffer the grave social disability of being extremely normal, society does not allow them to talk freely about their problem. (An interviewer - Henry Woolf - interviews Arthur Sutcliffe, whose face has now been darkened - although we already know what he looks like.) HENRY: When did you first find out that you were ... normal? ARTHUR: I suppose it was at school. None of the other kids would laugh at me or beat me up HENRY: I see. What did you do about it? ARTHUR: At first, nothing. I thought everybody was normal. And then I realised there were all these minority groups and I... I couldn't join any of them because I was... normal. HENRY: Why didn't you tell your parents? ARTHUR: I was ashamed. (A journalist - Neil Innes - talks to camera.) NEIL: Arthur Sutcliffe is not of course his real name. Well Arthur is, but not the Sutcliffe bit. My idea, that. (smiles) Sutcliffe. Such a nice name, it's much better than Jones. (He realizes his mistake and flounders. An awkward moment.) NEIL: This problem of Arthur Sutcliffe's is not unique. Reginald Bradley is a consultant psychiatrist. REGINALD (Eric Idle): Yes, I am, I am a consultant psychiatrist. Good evening everybody. NEIL: Good evening. (Awkward pause. Reginald says nothing. Neil tries to prompt him, but Reginald doesn't understand.) REGINALD: I did say I was a consultant psychiatrist? NEIL: Yes, yes you did. REGINALD: Oh, good, good, because I am a fully qualified consultant psychiatrist. None of this 'not really being a doctor' business, you know. NEIL: No, quite. Well, perhaps you could tell us something about the problem. REGINALD: Well it's not really a problem. I became a consultant psychiatrist because I didn't want to be an ordinary doctor. NEIL: No no no, could you tell us about Arthur's problem? REGINALD: What, as a consultant psychiatrist? NEIL: Yes. REGINALD: Oh no, I'd have to read up on it first. (Annoyed, Neil turns away. On the chair next to him is Arthur's wife [Gwen Taylor]. Neil fumbles with the papers in his hands.) NEIL: Mrs. ah ... Sutcliffe ...you're Arthur Jones' wife. (He realizes his mistake and crumbles his papers angrily in his hand.) Arthur SUTCLIFFE's wife! MRS. JONES: Yes. (A caption reading "MRS. JONES" has been crudely crossed out to read "SUTCLIFFE.") NEIL: Was it tremendous shock to you? MRS. JONES: Oh, yes. When I married him, I thought he was a poof. And then one day, he confessed: he was normal. NEIL: And.....? MRS. JONES: I've decided to stick by him. NEIL: Two people who can't forgive him, are of course, his parents, Henry and Veronica ......Sutcliffe. (He is pleased with himself for remembering this time.) We spoke to them in their home in Reigate. (His parents - Eric as the mother, Henry Woolf as the father - are both looneys in wigs and strange costumes. Eric lies in a bath, Henry is riding a goat. Both have false noses. Eric is tearing up newspapers.) LOONEY MUM: We can't understand it! We gave that girl... LOONEY DAD: Boy, dear. LOONEY MUM: We gave that thing everything it could possibly need as an ant. LOONEY DAD: Child. LOONEY MUM: Including jam! LOONEY DAD: Yeah! We gave it jam, we did! We gave it jam! LOONEY MUM: Yep! NEIL (disbelieving): What kind of jam? LOONEY MUM: Pernod jam... LOONEY DAD: Hand jam! LOONEY MUM: Ice cream with onions... we gave it everything a little darkie could need! LOONEY DAD: Yeah, I used to lock him up in dark cupboards, only for his own good.. but no, he had to grow up normal. Typical! LOONEY MUM: Ungrateful sod! (the sound of tearing newspaper obscures the word "sod") I won't let him back in the rabbit hutch. LOONEY DAD: House! LOONEY MUM: No!! ARTHUR: My parents did their best for me. Gave me a bad home, apalling education, and a perfectly miserable childhood. But I was destined to be normal. ANNOUNCER ERIC: In Arthur's case, the solution was simple. ARTHUR: I decided to accept the fact. I... came out as a normal. NEIL: What happened? ARTHUR: At first, people were shocked. I got abusive letters. Somebody sent me the Daily Telegraph through the post. ARTHUR: But instead of going to the police, I accepted it. Got a Barclaycard... later on, I learned to watch Des O'Conner in the company of other adult normals, I went to straight pubs, and people would come home with me and we'd sit about, not touching, having quite a nice time. NEIL: Well, who's to blame? Perhaps all of us, deep down, really are normal. Is society to blame? Or even education? ... Or maybe we could blame the little man from the Off License! He's small, couldn't do much about it. That's it, we'll blame him! (We show a little man - Henry Woolf - selling liquors behind the counter of an off license shop. He is short and innocent looking.) LITTLE MAN: Why me? ANNOUNCER ERIC: Yes, this little man from the Off License is to blame. LITTLE MAN: No I'm not! ANNOUNCER ERIC: He's also to blame for all the unfair divisions in society... LITTLE MAN: I'm not! ANNOUNCER ERIC: ... for the fact that some people are much wealthier than others... LITTLE MAN: It's not my fault! ANNOUNCER ERIC: ...and that Leicester City never won the FA Cup. LITTLE MAN: You can't blame me for that! (A cop ]Eric] enters.) COP ERIC: Are you the man from the Off License? LITTLE MAN: Yes. COP ERIC: You're to blame for everything. Come with me. (He grabs the little man roughly and drags him away.) (Show a courtroom. The judge is played by Gwen Taylor, the jury is played by a bunch of cutouts. The little man looks very scared.) JUDGE GWEN: (harshly) Man from the Off License. You are apparently to blame for fascism, racial prejudice, Any Questions, crime in society and the unfair distribution of wealth. LITTLE MAN: I'm not! JUDGE GWEN: Be quiet. ... Call Leicester City Football Club. (The Leicester City Football Club [Eric, Neil, David Battley, the Japanese man, etc.] stand at the witnesses' chair.) FOOTBALLERS: ‘Ello! JUDGE GWEN: You are Leicester City Football Club? FOOTBALLERS: We are! JUDGE GWEN: Why didn't you win the FA Cup? (they point at the little man.) FOOTBALLERS: He's to blame! LITTLE MAN: Oh, what a lie! ANNOUNCER ERIC: And so, mainly on the overwhelming evidence of the Leicester City Football Club, the man from the Off License was to blame for all the ills in society, and was subsequently taken away and hanged. (Show a street, with cop Eric strolling happily hand in hand with Neil, and a wealthy other Neil gives a lot of money to a bum.) After he'd gone, things showed a marked improvement. People were much nicer to each other, and extremely rich people gave away most of their wealth to the poor. So the man from the Off License was to blame after all. NEIL: Toldja! ANNOUNCER ERIC:And his wicked Off License shop was finally shut down. (A little sign on the Off License shop reads "Closed, due to owner being to blame for everything.") (Another sign reads "The End." Music starts.) ------------------------- LIE DOWN AND BE COUNTED Words and Lyrics: Neil Innes --------------------------------------------------------------------------- (A rather dirty-looking MAN WITH A FAKE MOUSTACHE [Neil], on film, is staring at the closed-down Off-License shop. Now music is playing, with a bit of Irish influence. He turns around and starts to sing a sweet song. But his lips, as it goes on, match the words less and less.) SINGER: There's no song for the singer No words for the tune There's a mess in the message TITLE: "This man is miming." And a man on the moon There's no plan in the planet TITLE: "Very badly." It's all gone berserk There's a milk bottle shortage And the traffic lights don't work TITLE: "No I'm not." (Pull out to show Neil in the studio, clearer now, holding a sign with the words "No I'm Not," and miming the song perfectly.) Lie down and be counted Don't take any more Lie down and be counted What are we standing for? But there's hope for the couples (He throws the sign down) who stroll in the park (Stock footage rolls behind him illustrating the song.) There's nuclear power to light up the dark There's national health and ice in the fridge And the occasional cow on a motorway bridge There's extended credit on easier terms And something to kill all known household germs There's sofas and armchairs and washing machines Stars on Sunday, fishfingers and beans Lie down and be counted Don't take any more Lie down and be counted What are we standing for? There's no song for the singer, no words for the tune There's a mess in the message and a man on the moon There's no plan in the planet, it's all gone berserk There's an everything shortage and the traffic lights still don't work Lie down and be counted Don't take any more Lie down and be counted What are we standing for? (The final bit of stock footage is shots of graves.) Lie down and be counted Don't take any more Lie down and be counted What are we standing for? (Irish riff from the beginning repeats and we return to "Come Dancing.") COME DANCING HOST [Eric]: Well, there you have it, if you're lucky enough, and who isn't lucky enough with the lovely Maureen, who incidentally is fourteen stone today, and looking for every inch of it. (The episode ends with "Kung Dancing," and David Battley throws everyone else off set, then, when they're gone, performs his own juggling act as credits roll to "L'Amour Perdu.") (Host Woolf is now a full woman, with long brunette hair. He turns to camera.) HOST WOOLF: Nude religion brings to a close our programs for today. So until next week, a very goodbye from me. Rutland Weekend Television is closing down now, so we hand you back to ATV. --------------------------- SKETCHES FROM EPISODE THREE by Eric Idle -------------------------- THE CHILDREN OF ROCK AND ROLL Words and lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------- (A man who seems much like John Lennon ... actually Ron Lennon [Neil Innes] ... is seen at a white piano, wearing a Union Jack T-shirt. The background is static.) RON LENNON: See how the good times roll See how the good times roll See how the good times roll away Like ice in a drink invisible ink or dreams in the cold light of day The children of rock 'n roll never grow old they just fade away... (He fades away.) -------------------------- FOOTBALL Words by Eric Idle Music by Neil Innes Sung by Eric Idle, Neil Innes, Henry Woolf and David Battley -------------------------- CROWD: (singing) Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, football. (Cut to four football fans - Idle, Innes, Woolf and Battley.) (They clap in rhythm) I throw house bricks for The Arsenal I chuck lead pipe for West Ham I kick and maim for Chelsea I kill for Tottenham I drop bottles for United on the crowd from up above Yes football is the game that we all love I razor slash for Sheffield I cut 'em up for Q.P.R. I stick nails in 'em for Norwich For Leeds I slash and scar For Celtic I throw petrol bombs whenever our teams score Yes football is the game that we adore We all love football Kill rape slash AAH We all love football Shoot stab boot AAH Football is the game that we adore I hack limbs off for Newcastle I rape for Luton Town For the Rangers I kill strangers And kick police horses down I set fire to referees who let opponents score Yes football is the game that we adore We all love football Bomb hurt kill AHH We all love football Slash Kick maim AHH Football is the game that we adore (They clap in rhythm) The end. (Cut to an army sergeant's office. We see the "religion" warning sign. Offscreen somebody screams in agony. Samuels [Eric] sits at a desk. Corporal Collier [Battley] waits to come in and see him.) SAMUELS: Ah, come in, uh, Collier. Now, the padre tells me you've not been to church parade again. COLLIER: Yes, sir. SAMUELS: Why? COLLIER: I'm an Agnostic, sir. SAMUELS: Last week, you told me you were an Atheist. COLLIER: Uh, yes, sir, but this week I don't necessarily deny the existence of a supreme being, I just question its particular existence in a theological sense, and deny that it is necessarily good. SAMUELS: You told the padre you were a Black Muslim. COLLIER: Yes sir. SAMUELS: Well? COLLIER: Uh, well, sir, I toyed with the idea, sir... SAMUELS: But? COLLIER: Well, I'm not black, sir, I, I thought of blacking up, but it seemed to make a mockery of the whole thing. SAMUELS: So you became a White Muslim. COLLIER: No, sir, I became Jewish. SAMUELS: What?! COLLIER: Uh, yes, only for a day, sir, I was kosher for a day, and then I realized that the Jewish god was the same as the Christian's, with some, only with some silly food regulations. SAMUELS: So you became an Agnostic. COLLIER: No, sir, I became a Seventh Day Adventist. SAMUELS: What happened? COLLIER: Well, I was on guard duty on the seventh day, and I missed it. SAMUELS: Collier, the army isn't here to furnish you in a career of comparative religions. Why don't you just choose one... stick to it? COLLIER: Well, sir, I can't find on that's comfortable, sir. Um, could I start one, sir? SAMUELS: Self-worship, Collier? COLLIER: Uh, no, sir, not me, sir. SAMUELS: Well, who or what would you worship? COLLIER: Well, I rather wondered whether you would care to take on the job, sir, be the Supreme Being, and then we could adore you, sir. There's uh, Corporal Harrington, Bombardier Wells... SAMUELS: Collier, you can't worship your commanding officer, even in the British Army. (Silly old photos illustrate the following:) ANNOUNCER ERIC: But they did. All through the 1950's, Brigadier Samuels was accepted as THE Supreme Being of B Division on the Rhine. Collier became first a Lance Corporal, and then an archbishop in the regiment. Brigadier Samuels was worshipped on Tuesday afternoons, after fire practice, behind the tents, and after awhile, his religion spread to several other regiments, including the Welsh Fusiliers, The Horseguards, and the Worican Worcesters. By the early 1960's, he'd become THE god in the British Army, bigger than Major Hutchinson, who was worshipped by the Scots and Irish regiments, and rivalling even Uberloitenenthant Fufner, the official NATO god. In 1964, an attempt was made to deny his existence. This was probably the work of Master Sergeant Sy Kirkoffer, the official god of the C.I.A. His brother, Ronnie Kirkoffer, is possibly related to Simon Pribble, the official god of BBC 2. And Simon Pribble, himself, may be related to Yvonne Mitchell. (Back to host Andy.) ANDY ROBERTS: Hello again. Yvonne Mitchell would like it to be made clear that she is not related to Simon Pribble, the official god of BBC2. However, she will be appearing soon on BBC 2, so please watch out for her. Meanwhile, here on Rutland Weekend Television, it's just coming up to my knees, and time once again for Thrust with Splig Utherism. (Thrust: "Bathtime Theater" is not transcribed. But here are the lyrics to "Boring.") (This is sung in a suburban home by Neil, in a pink Batman costume. Andy Roberts is his Robin.) Boring Words and lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------------------------------------------------------- BATMAN: Daddy went off to work about 7:30 He put on his overalls and his working gloves He said "United drew again" to his cousin Harry And read a magazine about crime and secret love And if it all sounds boring If it all sounds boring If it all sounds boring Then there's something wrong with the song Mama went down the hill to the supermarket She brought back groceries in a carrier bag She hung up her coat and then she put on the kettle Sat down with a cup of tea and lit a fag And if it all sounds boring If it all sounds boring If it all sounds boring Then there's something wrong with the song Or you Young Billy grazed his knee on a concrete playground And answered "Yes, miss" when they called his name Auntie Mary rearranged her mantle pieces And sucked a peppermint before the rent man came And if it all sounds boring If it all sounds boring If it all sounds boring Then there's something wrong with the song Or you Or me Or something with LYN ASHLEY, DAVID BATTLEY, ERIC IDLE, NEIL INNES, ANDY ROBERTS, WANDA VENTHAM, HENRY WOOLF -------------------------------------------------- SKETCHES FROM RUTLAND WEEKEND TELEVISION, EPISODE FOUR by Eric Idle -------------------------- (Titles for Rutland Weekend Television begin, but are quickly interrupted by titles for a rock music program, "The Old Gay Whistle Test.") (Not the Real Bob Harris [Eric Idle] sits in a studio whispering everything he says.) BOB HARRIS: Hi. Welcome to...Whistle Test. Tonight on Whistle Test, we've got ... Rex Higgins, Steve Flea, the Wretched Admiral Sphincter, Grunties, Hot Nadgers, Red Buttocks, and Toad the Wet Sprocket, so... it promises to be... really good. We've also got a preview of the new... Vomit album, and I shall be talking, as usual, like this. Wow. But first off, here's our studio group, Toad the Wet Sprocket... CAPTION: TOAD THE WET SPROCKET. (Bridget Armstrong, David, Henry, Neil, and Andy Roberts are a group who just stand there, as "spacey" sort of music plays. Try and imagine the most boring instrumental piece imaginable. Andy and Neil bang on some keyboards, and it's done.) BOB: Wow. Great... It's finished. Well, you'll all no doubt have recognized I've got with me now... Mantra Robinson. (Mantra Robinson [David Battley] wears a headband, Oriental-inspired robe, and very long hair.) MANTRA: Uhhhh. BOB: Mantra, it's good to see you. MANTRA: Yes, it is. BOB: Mantra, your new album on the Vegetarian label, uh... "Karmic Subtopian Protoplasmic Maximised Mantric Arcadian Intrusions..." MANTRA: It's been held up. BOB: Why? MANTRA: They're having trouble with the spelling. BOB: It's a great title. MANTRA: Yeah, I wrote it. BOB: How long have you been on the album? MANTRA: Uhh, about two weeks on the album, and about two years on the title. BOB: I gather there's been a bit of trouble... within the group. MANTRA: Yeah, um, our bass violinist Al Hutz had trouble remembering his name, so we dropped him down a lift shaft in California. BOB: Yeah. How did the California tour go? MANTRA: Oh, great, we're really proud of ourselves, you know, because in three nights we did over seven million dollars worth of damage. BOB: Wow... not a bad gig. How many people came to the concert? MANTRA: Five. BOB: Five thousand. MANTRA: No, five. Twelve with the roadies. BOB: Not too good. MANTRA: It was three better than New York, and on the England tour, we had just the roadies. BOB: What's the group doing after America? MANTRA: Well, Brad's doin' six years, Ronnie's had this niggling brain injury since 1957, he's layin' down now. BOB: And Pete? MANTRA: Oh, Pete, he's a genius, he's too much. BOB: Yeah, wow, right. MANTRA: His alcohol intake... BOB: Too much. MANTRA: Far too much. He'd be playin' bottle neck guitar and drinkin' out of the bottle at the same time. BOB: So, what happened? MANTRA: Well, our manager wanted to fire 'im, but I was against that. BOB: Yeah. MANTRA: Yeah, I wanted to kill 'im. BOB: So, what did you do? MANTRA: Well, we compromised. He fired 'im, and then I killed 'im. BOB: As a group, you're really into violence. I remember on the Toronto tour, you burnt down your audience. MANTRA: Yeah. Violence is really great, you know. It's only when I'm being really violent that I, I'm truly at peace. BOB: Yeah. MANTRA: That's a saying of Sigi's (A small Indian Man - Sigi (Henry Woolf) sits near Bob.) SIGI : Hello. BOB: Hi. MANTRA: Sigi's our guru. BOB: He's from India? MANTRA: No, he's from Shepherd's Bush, but he works in an Indian restaurant. SIGI : Mrs. Fletcher... she say... to understand everythink, we need to know nuthink, and to know nuthink, is to truly understand everythink. BOB: Wow... yeah... heck. I can get off on that. Who is this Mrs. Fletcher? MANTRA: She's his landlady. She gets these terrific insights into Man's nature, and Sigi sells 'em. BOB: Are they good? MANTRA: They're expensive. BOB: Yeah... wow. (At this point, nobody can think of anything to say. Mantra turns away, bored, and a silence follows which lasts for a long time.) BOB: Well, I could rap on like this all evening, but instead, let's have a bit of music, from the Gerard's Cross Pop Festival, this is Splint... on the Abattoir label... Bandwagon. (An grotesquely glitzy band play ... Neil is the frontman, looking like a caricature of Elton John ... Eric, David Battley and John Halsey are also involved.) BANDWAGON Music and lyrics by Neil Innes ------------------------- NEIL: Woooo! I think I'll get myself on the bandwagon With my twelve bar blues And sing of love or magic dragons What else have I got to lose? Yeah, I think I'll get myself on the bandwagon Wear fancy clothes you can see through and when I got all my drag on You won't see me But I'll see you But all I gotta do is sing a little more like this (tutti frutti, beauties on duty) Or throw myself around as though I'm bustin' for a piss [The word "piss" is bleeped.] (sock it to me, sock it to me, sock it to me sock it to me sock it to me) Or act sincere even when I don't really care (sha na na na, sha na na na) You know if I mean it cause I'll go whoa yeah yeah! I think I'll get myself on the bandwagon-nah with my twelve bar blues And sing of love or magic dragon You know what I mean? What else I mean what else have I got to lose? Thank you. (Back to Bob, in the studio, standing.) BOB: Wow...yeah...certainly. Next on Whistle Test, I have with me... Stan Fitch, the first all-dead singer. Stan, welcome to Whistle Test. (Bob points his microphone at a dead man [Andy Roberts], sitting in a chair. The dead man says nothing, obviously.] BOB: Yeah, right. Well now, Stan's gonna do a number for us... off his next album called... "Even Further Beyond The Grave." [Silence. Bob exits. More silence. A stagehand [Neil] puts a guitar in the corpse's hands. The corpse just sits there.] [Psychedelic video effects and camerawork continue as in any rock video. The corpse just sits there.] [Back to Bob.] BOB: Yeah. Yeah. Long time before we hear anything as good as that ... on Whistletest. [The Rutland Weekend titles now roll, halfway through the program.] [These are interrupted immediately by Bridget Armstrong as the host, with a small vase of yellow flowers by her, as in almost every episode.] BRIDGET: Rutland Weekend Television. Good evening. [The rest of the opening titles now roll, uninterrupted. Her flowers have increased in size.] BRIDGET: Hello again. Well we've got an absolutely wonderful evening for you here on Rutland Weekend and I hope you enjoy it as often as I do, but right now it's time to enjoy Rutland Weekend Theatre. (CAPTION: RUTLAND WEEKEND THEATRE ) (AN UPPER-CLASS COUPLE ARE CANOODLING ON A BALCONY IN SOME EXOTIC-LOOKING LOCATION.) WOMAN (ARMSTRONG) Darling. MAN (BATTLEY) Yes darling? WOMAN It's so vibrant, alive and throbbing. MAN Oh, I'm sorry darling. WOMAN No, no, the evening - alive, fierce, vibrant, exciting. Oh, Asia! Asia! MAN Esher, darling. WOMAN Aren't we near Hong Kong, darling? MAN Nearer Righgate, darling. WOMAN Oh. (SITS DOWN) Darling, there's... something I've been meaning to tell you. MAN Yes darling? WOMAN I'm in love with Archie Galbraith! MAN Not Archie Galbraith! WOMAN No, not Archie Galbraith... Um... name... Paul Hamilton. MAN But that's me, darling. WOMAN Oh, is it? Oh then it is you, darling. MAN Oh, you're so wonderfully vague, Patricia. WOMAN Yes I am, very vague. But my name isn't Patricia though is it? MAN Er, no it isn't. WOMAN What is it? MAN Dashed if I know, dear. WOMAN Call the native boy and ask him. MAN Don't think we have a native boy in Esher, dear. WOMAN Oh, haven't we? MAN I've...forgotten. WOMAN Call and see anyway. MAN Ah yes. (CLAPS HANDS) Hello, I say, erm is there anyone in there who lives with us? (A SECOND MAN ENTERS.) MAN 2 (WOOLF) Hello. MAN Oh, hello. Look, ah, my name's Paul but I'm afraid we've forgotten my wife's name. Who are you? MAN 2 I'm your son. MAN Oh hello, Good Lord, what's your name? MAN 2 Daddy I've been living with you and Mummy for eighteen years! WOMAN Yes, we want your name ! MAN 2 It's... (STAMMERS) I'm afraid I've forgotten. MAN Listen, um, your mother can't remember who she's having an affair with. MAN 2 Oh I know! MAN Yes? MAN 2 It's um, er... (STAMMERS AGAIN) I'm afraid I've forgotten his name. (A THIRD MAN ENTERS) MAN 3 (IDLE) Someone to see you Sir. MAN Oh, jolly good, show him in. I'd quite forgotten we had a butler. MAN 3 You don't, Sir. I'm someone to see you, Sir. MAN Ah... Hello. MAN 3 I want to marry Virginia. MAN Who's Virginia? MAN 3 You don't know who Virginia is? MAN No. MAN 3 Damn! I was rather hoping you'd tell me. MAN 2 It's not me, is it? (long pause as they think about this.) MAN 3 No, I don't think so. (A FOURTH MAN ENTERS) MAN 4 (INNES) Harry..? (THE GATHERING LOOK AT HIM, CONFUSED. HE RETURNS A CONFUSED LOOK. CONFUSION ALL ROUND.) [Cut to a host in a studio.] MELVIN KITE (Eric): Hello, and welcome to another edition of ......... (long pause as he can't remember what he's supposed to say. After about three years he finally remembers and points at the camera.) MELVIN: .... Amnesia! (Titles roll for "Amnesia," with music. Melvin talks very fast.) MELVIN: And tonight on the program we'll be talking to professor ... um ... oh god - professor, um, oh god ...... She's not even a professor! .. uh .... (makes a noise with his lips) ...... uh ... we'll be talking! And we shall also have a film report from .... uhh ... about the, about the problems of ..... (He completely forgets what he's saying. Long pause. He then looks at the camera, as if he's just woken up and isn't sure where he is. He then talks very slowly.) MELVIN: So that's it, until next week, goodnight. (Credits music rolls again.) MELVIN: (to someone offscreen) That was rather quick, wasn't it? (Credits roll, reading as follows:) AMNESIA Introduced by Melvin Kite Directed by ... erm Oh what's his name? You know the chap with the glasses. Always in the bar. Little feller. Drinks a lot to make up for it. You know him ... A friend of ... erm ... oh that other director. What's 'is name. The one who keeps snakes. They're always at the bar. Sorry, it's gone completely. (Back to Bridget. She has even more flowers next to her this time.) BRIDGET: Just a reminder that Melvin Kite is a national theatre ... whatzit. (Long pause) BRIDGET: ..... A national theatre thingy! (Title and music for the Rutland Weekend Documentary.) (Ron Granger [Eric] is a farmer.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: Ron Granger is a farmer. Here on his Worcester farm he has nearly seven hundred acres. Not by today's standards a particularly large spread, but enough to keep him and his hands very busy. Because Ron grows, trains, and fattens ... Beauty Queens. (Show Ron walking along with a herd of beauty queens, with sashes over their shoulders. They act like dumb animals throughout.) RON: Well, they're not difficult to keep, provoidin' you feed 'em regular. They're quite friendly, they all answer to their names, but a dog's more fun. ANNOUNCER ERIC: Ron feeds them hay and copies of Vogue. (Show him doing this.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: But at this time of year, things are pretty quiet, apart from the regular visit of the vet. (The vet [David Battley] feels one of the girls' legs, and nods that the calf is healthy.) RON: I've, uh, I've got about 50 head o' Beauty Queen, plus a few Hoestetters. ANNOUNCER ERIC: The Hoestetters are Beauty Queens who haven't quite made the grade. They're kept for breeding. (Show a couple of trashier-looking girls. They eye the camera. One smiles, one just looks with glazed-over eyes.) (Show Ron leading his herd around by sunset.) At the end of a glorious summer day, what could be a more peaceful sight than a prime herd of Beauty Queens returning from the fields? (He then locks them in the barn.) But though they're locked away for the the night, Ron's work is far from finished. RON: Of course, you gotta watch out for poachers this time o' year, you see? I 'ad three of my girls stolen last year. Two of 'em ended up in Pent'ouse, and one of 'em ended up in the Playboy Club. They just don't know any better, you see? ANNOUNCER ERIC: It's not just poachers. Two years ago, feminist demonstrators broke in with "Foot and Mouth", a radical feminist magazine, and contaminated all the girls. (Ron looks into the camera, almost in tears.) RON: It was 'eartbreakin'. I had to shoot them all myself. D'ya know, oy croid? (Show some girls being loaded on the truck and driven away.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: But it's Market Days that are the busiest for Ron Granger, who is, incidentally, no relation of the plucky tunesmith. He's up at dawn to load the girls, and drive them the forty miles to the nearest market. RON (V.O.): You would swear some of 'em knew where they were goin'. ANNOUNCER ERIC: But these are the harsh realities of modern economics. Trained and fattened to the peak of perfection, they're now ready to be shown at the market. (An enormous indoor barnyard area. A sign says "Mecca Cattle Markets." A bunch of beauty queens stand around in the hay. We hear moos in the background throughout.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: Here they'll be given a chance in the ring before the experienced eyes of midland butchers and a cutout of Oliver Reed. Most of these girls will end up on your household tables over the next few weeks. (Ron passes by, leading a smiling girl around by her enormous nose ring.) RON: Oh! Diana, my champion Jersey girl, she's, uh, she's just gone for two hundred and fifty guineas. (He gives her a last bittersweet look - she's one of his favorites.) Still, she's going to a good butcher. ANNOUNCER ERIC: But are these cattle markets just beauty contests? (We cut to a butcher [David Battley] in his shop.) CAPTION: "A Yorkshire Showbiz Butcher." BUTCHER: No, no, no, no, no. Far from it. It's not just the way they look, you know. (Pull back to show he is surrounded by Beauty Queens lying on tables like meat.) BUTCHER: There's also the taste. That's the most important. (He raises his cleaver and is about to cut into one when we cut.) (David Hamilton [Eric Idle] stands laughing in front of the RWT logo. Applause.] DAVID: Ha ha. Well, let's just have a look at the .. next contestant. Ha ha. Do you think you're being exploited? (He points the microphone at a cow, who wears a beauty queen's sash.) COW: Moooooo. DAVID: Ha ha ha. Chance would be a fine thing. COW: Moooooo. DAVID: Ha ha. I should be so lucky. Ha ha ha. I'll find the lucky guy. Ha ha ha. Ha ha. Great. Just great. Ha ha ha. (Cut to a glitzy set which appears to be made out of Saran Wrap. An announcer - Henry Woolf - comes into view.) HENRY: (with awe and pride) Ladies and gentlemen. While the judges are selecting their final six, here to entertain you is the golden larynx of P.B. Sutton! (He exits.The intro to a song plays, as P.B. Sutton [Neil Innes] gets ready to perform his showstopping number.] [As he is about to sing, he is shot by an arrow, and dragged off the set by four butchers.] (The rest of "Yorkshire Showbiz Butchers" is not transcribed. Nor is "A Penny for Your Warts," the medical game show. Let's cut to "The Fabulous Bingo Brothers.") (Bridget, our host, is now surrounded by fucking yellow flowers.) a penny for your warst was introduced this week by Raymond Nabokov, and he'll be back again next week with another name. Meanwhile on Rutland Weekend, it's time for the fabulous Bingo Brothers. Those of you with black and white sets, the next program will be in black and white. (Black and white vaudeville title: "FABULOUS BINGO BROTHERS") (Black and white film. Zoot Money and John Halsey stand in raincoats in a lavatory. Money is wearing an enormously tall hat, and Halsey wearing an aviator's cap. They stand in place, turning occasionally, moving very little. They are whistling. A piano [Neil Innes] plays offscreen. They sing, flatly and deadpan.) THE FABULOUS BINGO BROTHERS: (singing) Once we had a donkey, we kept it in the yard One day in the winter it was snowin' hard Mother said the donkey must be cold in the yard Bring him in the kitchen let him have a warm (Piano solo.) In came the donkey, bit me father's ear Took it for a cabbage leaf and broke the chandelier Out went the gas And then it came alight again Poor father's head The donkey took a bite again Mother took a knife and fork t'stick it in the ass Stuck it in me father's head and out went the gas ZOOT: Ain't you mad you can't get at it? JOHN: Mother's sewn me drawers up. (Long pause. Zoot does a random doubletake at John and smiles.) (Cut back to the Whistle Test studio. Bob Harris - not Eric, the actual Bob Harris, is standing there, grinning at us. He is dressed identically to the way Eric was dressed while impersonating him. He talks, whispering as usual.) THE REAL BOB HARRIS: So there we are. Those were of course the Fabulous Bingo Brothers. And make a note that very soon ... we'll be having an entire Whistle Test program without them. ... Well, here's our last studio guest tonight, who needs no introduction from me, so until next week, goodnight. (He grins and looks offscreen. Fade to the studio. Raymond Onassis [Neil Innes] walks on, performing a number Neil is pretty well known for. He wears shades, a mouth harmonica, a light blue jacket, light blue pants, and that red and green cap he wears a lot in these shows.) PROTEST SONG Words and Lyrics by Neil Innes ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NEIL: Uh, this next number is a protest song. (He tunes his guitar for ages.) Uh, I've suffered for my music, and ... now it's your turn. (He plays a terrible harmonica solo, then sings a la Bob Dylan:) All the prophets of doom can always find room In a world full of worry and fear Tip cigarettes and chemistry sets And rudolph the red-nosed reindeer So I'm goin back to my little old shack And drink me a bottle of wine That was mis en bouteille before my birthday And have me a fantastic time Rain on a tin roof sounds like a drum We're marching for freedom today Yeay Turn on your headlights and sound your horn If people get in the way (Another terrible harmonica solo.) Let me turn you on to the chromium swan On the nose of a long limousine Even hired for the day It is something to say But what the hhehhellll does it mean I may be accused of being confused But I'm average weight for my height My philosophy Like color tv Is all there in black and white RAAAAAAINN on a tin roof sounds like a drum We're marching for freedom today Yeay! Turn on your headlights and sound your horn (toot toot) If people get in the way (He plays one last loooong harmonica note, falling out of frame, then comes back into frame and ends it. He gives the beast sign, then bumps into the microphone. He can't see in those shades!) (Back to host Bridget, overwhelmed by flowers, and still smiling.) BRIDGET: Well, that's about the size of it. Rutland Weekend is closing down now, so until next week, goodnight everybody! (Roll credits to the tune of "L'Amour Perdu," as usual.) with BRIDGET ARMSTRONG, DAVID BATTLEY, BOB HARRIS, ERIC IDLE, NEIL INNES, ANDY ROBERTS, HENRY WOOLF, and the FABULOUS BINGO BROTHERS (alias Zoot Money and John Halsey) ----------------------------------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Episode Five by Eric Idle --------------------------- FRONT LOADER Music and Lyrics by Neil Innes -------------------------- It's so far out It's outta sight No heavy scene No gettin' uptight So, just stay loose, my brother I'll tell you where it's at You can all get it on at the local laundromat, yeah! Front Loader, let me turn you on Front Loader, you and me just havin' fun Front Loader, my words I won't mince I just love your fully automated second rinse Ooooh, yeah, yeah! If I could I'd do my laundry Every night of the week I guess that you could call me A laundry freak My clothes are all worn through But I just don't care 'Cause when I get a heavy load I just got to share it with my Front Loader, all bubbles and foam Front Loader, enamel and chrome Front Loader, my sheets will never tangle 'Cause with your spin dry there's no need for a mangle Front Loader, you know my need is urgent Front Loader, I got all my detergent Front Loader, sometimes I do despair You're the only one but me who sees my underwear --- I'm the Urban Spaceman Words and Music by Neil Innes ---- I'm the urban spaceman baby, I've got speed I've got everything I need I'm the urban spaceman baby, I can fly I'm a supersonic guy I don't need pleasure I don't feel pain If you were to knock me down I'd just get up again I'm the urban spaceman babe and I'm making out I'm all about I wake up every morning with a smile upon my face My natural exuberance spills out all over the place I'm the urban spaceman I'm intelligent and clean Know what I mean? I'm the urban spaceman, as a lover second to none It's a lot of fun I never let my friends down I've never made a boob I'm a glossy magazine an advert in the tube I'm the urban spaceman babe, but here comes the twist I don't exist ELECTRIC SHOP SKETCH From Rutland Weekend show 5 - "Rain in Hendon" by Eric Idle (A little electric shop. Satan, in red costume with horns, pitchfork, goatee and tail, stands behind the counter. Ken enters.) SATAN (David Battley): Ah, good morning, sir. KEN (Eric Idle): Good morning. I'd ... I'd like t... to buy some... I'd like to buy ... some, some ... Don't I know you? SATAN: No, I don't think so, sir. KEN: Uh, we didn't meet at the Preston Walkers... SATAN: No, sir. KEN: No. Right, well, I want to buy some little... Oh, of course, I'm so sorry, I've seen you on television. I'm sorry, I thought I knew you. SATAN: No, sir, I don't work on television, I work in this shop. KEN: Oh, I see. Ah. Well, I want to buy some little.... Oh, of course! I'm so sorry! Now I know who you are, I'm very sorry. SATAN: Not at all. Now, sir, can I help you? KEN: Yes, uh... you don't still do that scheme of purchasing people's... SATAN: Purchasing what, sir? KEN: Souls. SATAN: Fish, sir? KEN: No no no no no, it's a scheme you used to do... I wondered if you still did it. SATAN: What scheme is this, sir? KEN: Uh, well, I mean, you would, say, give me 24 years of power, riches, wealth, and pick of all the women in the world, and in return, I would give you.. SATAN: What, sir? KEN: My soul. SATAN: Is that all? KEN: Yes. SATAN: Well, it doesn't seem a very good bargain on my part. KEN: Well, you do get a soul. SATAN: Can you eat it? KEN: No no no, it's a soul. SATAN: Oh, you can cash it at Barclays... KEN: No no no, it's not a thing, it survives after death. SATAN: A reputation. KEN: No. SATAN: Smell? KEN: No no no no no, it's not physical. You just get my soul after my death. SATAN: A dead soul. KEN: Yes. SATAN: Not even alive? KEN: Well, no. SATAN: Well, I don't want to seem a wet blanket, but it doesn't seem a very tempting offer. KEN: Well, look, I'm a businessman, I'm prepared to give you my soul, and some cash. SATAN: And in return, I give you anything you want. KEN: Yeah. SATAN: Power, riches, women... KEN: Yeah, the usual things, yeah... SATAN: Cost you a bit, won't it? KEN: Well, isn't a soul worth a bit? SATAN: Not a lot, sir, there's not a lot you can do with 'em. Uh, to be honest, I've got stacks of 'em here, whole bloody shelves of them. It's difficult to know what to do with the bleeders. KEN: Oh, I see... SATAN: Yeah, and you have to dust them, label them, catalogue them... KEN: Yeah. SATAN: And then they just sit there, soulfully. KEN: Well, they do sound a bit dull. SATAN: They are dull, sir. I mean, if people left their privates, it would be more interesting. At least you'd have something to show you friends. KEN: Uh... I don't suppose you'd be interested in... SATAN: What? KEN: No no, I couldn't... SATAN: No, I wouldn't take it, sir. KEN: Well, what about if I gave you my car? SATAN: Ah, this does sound more interesting! KEN: Yeah, I mean, I could leave you my car, my house, and my life insurance policy... SATAN: And in return, you get 6 months on the Riviera. KEN: Not 24 years? SATAN: Oh, well, no, that was for the full Medieval soul, sir. KEN: Well, what about if I gave you my wife's soul as well? SATAN: And her body? KEN: All right. SATAN: In advance? KEN: Well, not after 24 years? SATAN: Well, let's face it, sir, and to be a little bit brutal and a touch chauvinistic, after 24 years, your wife's body isn't going to be worth all THAT much. KEN: Oh, I see... SATAN: Shall I call 'round for it tonight? KEN: What? SATAN: Your wife's body? KEN: Uh, well... SATAN: You get Helen of Troy... KEN: Yeah, alright. SATAN: Good. Fill that in sir... (Ken cheerfully slits his wrists and writes his name with his own blood on Satan's form.) NARRATOR: (also Eric Idle) And so, Kenneth Hargreaves of Watkins Finance sold his soul to the Devil for their Ford Zodiac, the deeds of their three bedroom maisonette, his cash endowment policy, and his wife's body, in advance. So, the next morning... [sings] diddle diddle diddle diddle bum BUM bummm ... [Ken's wife sits at the breakfast table with a very pleased smile on her face. Ken reads the "Non Jewish Chronicle."] KEN: Morning, darling. WIFE: (naughtily) Morning. KEN: Nice night? WIFE: Mmm, wonderful. KEN: Devil of a time, eh? WIFE: Rather... KEN: Well, I suppose I'd better push off. WIFE: You leaving for work? KEN: Uh, no, I'm leaving for 24 years debauchery, actually, darling. WIFE: Oh! KEN: It's just a business deal I've done with Frank. WIFE: Frank? KEN: Yes, Frank Satan. WIFE: Oh, shall I pack a bag? KEN: Uh, no no no, I'll pick up some things in Troy. (He seems preoccupied, or concerned.) Darling... WIFE: Yes? KEN: It's just a small thing... WIFE: (smiles naughtily) Well, it's what you do with it, really... KEN: No, no no no... uh, his tail... WIFE: Yes? KEN: Well, does it... I mean, when you're in bed... doesn't it... WIFE: Comes off. KEN: Oh... WIFE: Oh, yes, it unscrews. KEN: Oh... WIFE: Yes, he unscrewed it before he came to bed, propped it up in the corner. KEN: Oh, I see. Do we have a copy of Milton? WIFE: Why? KEN: Well, it doesn't mention an unscrewing tail, does it? (The wife's eyes open in shock.) WIFE: Oh, dear... NARRATOR: The tell-tale unscrewing tail gave the first tiny indication that it might not be the Devil at all, but only Ron Badger from the electric shop. The second indication occurred later that evening, in a tiny commercial hotel, near Bognor Regis. [sings] Wah wah wah waaah... [Ken sits on a bed in a seedy little hotel room. Satan stands nearby. The room is barely big enough for the both of them.] KEN: Why've we come to Bognor? SATAN: Very nice, Bognor. KEN: You might've made an effort on my first night. SATAN: I have. I brought you some peeled prawns. KEN: Well, that's not a banquet. SATAN: That is a treat. They're co-op peeled prawns, they're quite expensive. KEN: How come your tail unscrews? SATAN: Hygiene. KEN: Hygiene? SATAN: Yes, personal hygiene, for cleaning. KEN: It doesn't say anything about it in Milton. SATAN: What did he know about it? He was blind! KEN: Oh, yeah. Still, you'd a thought he'd mention something as important as an unscrewing tail for personal hygiene. SATAN: He was writing a poem, not a medical textbook. Anyway, how would you like to sleep on a tail? KEN: Do you use it with girls? SATAN: Don't be filthy! The tail is for... uh... KEN: For what? SATAN: For, uh... swatting flies and things. KEN: Do all angels have tails? SATAN: Uh, small ones. KEN: Small tails? SATAN: No, small angels have tails, big ones haven't. KEN: Why not? SATAN: Lay off the bleeding questions, will ya? Now, do you want a bird tonight, or not? KEN: Yeah, alright. SATAN: Who'dya want? KEN: Juliet. SATAN: Juliet? She's 14. She's underage. KEN: Well, never mind, bring her anyway. SATAN: Not in a commercial hotel in Bognor, I'm not! Most, you'll get 10 years for that. KEN: All right, all right, bring me Helen of Troy. SATAN: A very good choice, couldn't be better... (opens up the closet door) Come in, 'elen! (A cheap, gum-chewing dame comes out of the closet.) HELEN: 'Ello, 'ow'dya do? Very pleased to b'meet you. KEN: Who's that? SATAN: Helen of Troy. KEN: Get on. SATAN: She is. KEN: Helen of bleedin' Edge-Briston, more like! SATAN: That's a Trojan accent. KEN: This bird's from Edge-Briston! SATAN: She's from Troy! KEN: All right, we'll soon settle this. (to Helen) If you're Helen of Troy, who's your husband? HELEN: Menelaus. (Ken smiles.) KEN: Blimey, it IS Helen of Troy! SATAN: Would I lie? with LYN ASHLEY, DAVID BATTLEY, ERIC IDLE, NEIL INNES, PHILIP JENKINSON, HENRY WOOLF, WANDA VENTHAM ----------------------------------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Episode Six by Eric Idle --------------------------- EMCEE [Neil]: Hello, and welcome to Rutland Weekend Television. Well, we've got a very good evening for you tonight ... in spite of the fact they never give us enough money. Well I mean, you can't run a television station on a shoestring budget. I mean, look at this suit. It's rubbish! I mean, feel the quality of that! Rubbish. They don't even own it. I mean it's all hired. None of this stuff's theirs. 'Course I don't want to say too much, I'm only the announcer. Anyway, it finishes tonight, all of it. It's all closing down. Not enough money for one thing. (whispers) They've overspent. (confidential look) Anyway -- welcome to Rutland Weekend, and now it's time for Religion Today. CAPTION: "RELIGION TODAY." (Appropriate music. Lights up on Brian [David Battley].) BRIAN: Hello. Are people difficult bastards, or not? To help us find out we have in the studio a really difficult bastard ... BASTARD [Eric]: Hello, good evening. BRIAN: ... and the Bishop of Somerset. BISHOP [Henry Woolf]: Get lost. BRIAN: Can I turn to you first, Bishop? BISHOP: Shaddap. BRIAN: Oh. -- Arthur Collier, you have the reputation of being an extremely difficult bastard. BASTARD: Yes, that's right Brian, I certainly do have that reputation, most true. BRIAN: Have you have this reputation for a long time? BASTARD: For quite some while, certainly Brian, yes. BRIAN: If you don't mind my saying so, you don't seem to me to be an extremely difficult bastard at all. BASTARD: Oh, shut up! [disables him with a swift handchop to the neck] Right! Get this, and get it right. The Bishop and I have got Michael Aspel tied up in the basement, and unless a thousand pounds is put on the steps ... BISHOP: And a crate of whiskey. BASTARD: What? BISHOP: And a crate of whiskey. BASTARD: Oh. Unless a thousand pounds and a crate of whiskey is put on the ste ... BISHOP: And a wristwatch. BASTARD: What? BISHOP: I need a new wristwatch. BASTARD: What sort? BISHOP: Mickey Mouse one. BASTARD: All right, unless a thousand pounds, a crate of whiskey, and a Mickey Mouse wristwatch are put ... BISHOP: And get some of those little chocolates. BASTARD: What sort? BISHOP: Those nice minty ones. BASTARD: Yeah, all right. -- Unless a thousand pounds, a crate of whiskey, a Mickey Mouse wristwatch, and some of those nice minty choc-ys are put on the steps ... Is that all? BISHOP: Yep. BASTARD: Are you sure? BISHOP: Yep. BASTARD: Right! ... Are put on the steps ... BISHOP: Ay! What about getting something for Nora? BASTARD: Oh! Ah, good idea. What should we get her? BISHOP: A hairdryer? BASTARD: Yeah, good idea! ... We'll have to get something for Harry as well. BISHOP: Get him some of those nice cigars. BASTARD: Very good idea. BISHOP: 'Ere, can I get you something? BASTARD: Oh! That's very nice of you! Uh, I'd like some of those nice little seatcovers for the car. BISHOP: Okay, just ask for it! BASTARD: Oh! Thank you very much! Right, here is the revised list. Unless a thousand pounds, a crate of whiskey, a nice Mickey Mouse wristwatch, some nice minty choc-ys, a hairdryer, some cigarlets, and some of those nice lovely little seat covers for the car ... BISHOP: And a barathea overcoat. BASTARD: ... and a barathea overcoat ... BISHOP: And some double glazing. BASTARD: ... and some double glazing ... (Cut back to emcee. The standard RWT-set flowers are missing.) EMCEE: Well, it appears that Religion Today has been hijacked. I knew it was going to be one of those days. ... I'm not one to bitch, but you can't expect anything from security. (Quick clip of security men asleep in bed.) EMCEE: Well, it appears under the circumstances that the best thing we can do is play you some music. ... Look, can't we do anything about this suit? (Show Neil, in a red t-shirt and cap, playing on a white piano against a backdrop of chromakey stars.) NEIL: (singing) Singing a song is easy Watchin' the world go by If you were a song I'd sing you But you're more than meets my eye So lets sing a song together Just like holding hands Simple words and music We can all understand You can only love somebody As much as you love yourself So I'd like to wish you everything that I would wish myself Someone to care for you Someone to fall in love Someone to raise your voice to Maybe someone up above Someone to share your laughter Someone to ease your pain And if the song's worth singing We'll sing it again and again Singing a song is easy When you're watchin' the world go by If you were a song I'd sing you But you're more than meets my eye Sooo lets sing a song together Just like holding hands Simple words and music We can all understand Yes we can all understand La la la la la la la... (Back to the emcee. His suit jacket is missing, as is the table and the desklamp.) EMCEE: Well, that was much better. Although again they could have spent a little more on it -- I mean, he wasn't even wearing a suit! ... Still. Let's see if we can go back to Religion Today. (Back to Religion Today.) BASTARD: ...and a pair of ex-U-boat Commander's binoculars, er, a year's subscription to the Exchange & Mart, and one of those nice fluffy toilet seat covers - any colour... EMCEE: Obviously not. What about security? (Quick shot of the sleeping security men.) EMCEE: No, not a chance. Well, just a reminder that on Rutland Weekend Cinema, Arthur Thrush will be talking to - about his latest film, "Bring Me the Head of Light Entertainment." And now, our feature film, "Incident at Bromsgrove." Incidentally, for those of you with black-and-white sets ... color is much better. L'AMOUR PERDU (Theme to Rutland Weekend Television) Music and Lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------- L'amour perdu to circumstances Et tout le monde et Tuesday too Avec le raison d'Ètre-mental Cynical comment allez-vous "Ello Sailor" mÈme choses you love me Et je t'adore et windows too Regardez-moi poor heart is aching Toujours l'amour et merci beacoup SONG O' THE CONTINUITY ANNOUNCERS Words by Eric Idle --------------------------- ERIC AND NEIL: Hello I bet you're wonderin' why we're here Sittin' on our bums without a stitch o' gear Well as it happens our budget has expired And everything's gone back to the place from whence it's hired And so although you know we never bitch There's not a single funny set we haven't got a stitch 'Cause we've overspent our budget, Gawd, not half Now there's nothing left to make you buggers laugh Our cameraman is drunk Our producer's done a bunk Our director's lyin' down with an aspirin The man who is in charge of all the money has a large Question mark hangin' over him And his future And so although our budget is quite steep Six thousand quid or so which isn't very cheap That's what it costs to make you bleeders smile And we've been and overspent it by a mile Con-sequently we're sittin' here on our bums In the BBC towels we borrowed from our chums ERIC: in the wardrobe department (Neil nods.) ERIC AND NEIL: There's approximately five minutes or so to go well maybe three Perhaps they'll switch us off early to save electricity (The lights go out.) Oh, they have. with DAVID BATTLEY, TERENCE BAYLER, ERIC IDLE, NEIL INNES, HENRY WOOLF --------------------------- Sketches from "Christmas with Rutland Weekend Television" by Eric Idle ------------------------- Pirate Song By George Harrison and Eric Idle ------------------------------- GLITZY HOST ERIC: Well now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for ... Mr. George Harrison sings! Title: "George Harrison Sings" (The man himself, backed by Neil and Fatso, comes out in an all-white suit, and begins to play the intro to his hit "My Sweet Lord.") (Suddenly, he gets a crazed look in his eyes, and sings:) GEORGE HARRISON: (singing) Ohhh I'd like to be a pirate! A pirate's life for me! All my friends are pirates, they sail on the BBSea ... I've got a jolly roger, it's a-black and white and vast, so! Get out-a-ya skull and crossbones, I'll run it up your mast! (Neil and Fatso look very confused, not sure whether to keep playing. Eric comes out, looking uphappy. George pokes Eric in the chest with joy.) Well, a yo ho ho and a ya ha ha and a hee hee ha ha ho. A yo ho ho, and a ya ha ha and a yum yum yum yum yum. I've got a jolly roger, it's a-black and white and vast So, get out-a-ya skull and crossbones, I'll run it up your mast! (By now, all the extras have entered, and everyone is dancing. Even Eric.) Well, I'd like to be a pirate a pirate's life for me All my friends are pirates They sail on the BBC I've got a jolly roger, it's a-black and white and vast so get outta your skull and crossbones and I'll run it up your mast ...... TESTING ONE TWO Music and Lyrics by Neil Innes ---------- Hello testing, one... Are we on? Are we on? bass plugged in? Okay... (singing) Hello testing (one two) Testing (ONE TWO) How do you do? Testing (one two) It's ONE derful TWO be here Testing one two, testing one two Two --------- Concrete Jungle Boy Words and Music by Neil Innes -------------------------- In my high rise shoes I can walk tall I'm a concrete jungle boy I can write my name all over a wall I'm a concrete jungle boy The teacher's a fool so I don't go to school I just hang around playin' it cool Snappin' my fingers, looking for fun I'm a concrete jungle boy Wearin' my shirt with the buttons undone I'm a concrete jungle boy The music is loud and I like it a lot I got what it takes so I take what its got Concrete jungle boy Concrete jungle boy Concrete jungle boy You're nobody's mother's pride and joy I got time to kill and money to make I'm a concrete jungle boy I don't do for real what I can fake I'm a concrete jungle boy I look at the world and I want my share But though I keep moving I'm going nowhere If I was a sinner, I would confess But I'm just a beginner, I couldn't care less All that I am is standing right here Between my legs and between my ears Concrete jungle boy Concrete jungle boy Concrete jungle boy You're nobody's mother's pride and joy Concrete jungle boy Concrete jungle boy Concrete jungle boy You're nobody's mother's pride and joy ----------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Series 2, episode 1 by Eric Idle ----------------------------- NARRATOR [Eric]: This man is suffering from love songs. It's incurable, but worth a fortune. NEIL: I feel good I feel bad I feel happy I feel sad Do you think I'm in love? (aahaah) I must be in love I feel rich (oooh, la la la) I feel poor (oooh, la la la) I'm in doubt (oooh, la la la) I feel sure (oooh, la la la) Am I in love? (aahaah) I must be in love Any time of the day I can see (I can see her face) Her face, when I close my eyes Ooooooh! She's a dream (she's a dream) She is real (she is real) Can't explain (can't explain) How I feel (how I feel) Am I in love? (aahaah) I must be in love Any time of the day I can see (I can see her face) Her face, when I close my eyes Ooooooh! Am I dead (oooh, la la la) Or alive? (oooh, la la la) Can my poor heart (oooh, la la la) Survive? (oooh, la la la) Am I in love? (aahaah) I must be in love I feel good (I feel good) I feel bad (I feel bad) I feel happy (I feel happy) I feel sad (I feel sad) Am I in love? (aahaah) I must be in love I must be in love I must be in love I must be in love (Fade to a reporter, walking down the street as reporters do. The camera follows him.) REPORTER [Eric]: The fabulous Rutles there, in their movie "A Hard Day's Rut," directed by Dick Leicester, which is very near Rutland. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ANGEL [David Battley]: Not a very good likeness. (He is staring at Michaelangelo's "Creation of Adam," from the Sistine Chapel ceiling. We see Neil, dressed as the George Reeves Superman, fly through the air in a cheap way. He crashes through the painting, sort of, and with a flash of light we hear a drum beat with a country flavor and he is in heaven. Those with wings include Gwen Taylor and Terence Baylor. He speaks, instead of singing.) SUPERNEIL: Where is the turning point? The age of desperation? When all of our opinions become more convincing ... than before When we know what is right, because we cannot see alternatives. And we know we shall lose all if we doubt ourselves. What is objectivity? Keeping true perspective? We know things change when (angle change) seen from (angle change) different angles. Still, we play the game, knowing it takes time; today's truth is qualified by tomorrow's contradictions. WINGED CHORUS (singing): Ooooooo, wahhhhhhhh, Maybe he's wrong, but he knows what he means! SUPERNEIL: Still, we believe in ourselves, as we did yesterday. All men it seems have egos huge enough in which to hide themselves. So we leave room for forgiveness. (Music stops. Neil stops for a moment and glances at his watch. The music sets back in again. He gives an odd look.) CHORUS (singing): Oooooooo, wahhhhhh All right, he's wrong, but he means what he says! SUPERNEIL: This vision of perfection. (he is shrinking) The illusion of a purpose. (shrinks further) Is just a turning point. (voice gets farther-away) The age of ... (shouts) desperation !! (He disappears. They play a few final chords.) ----------------------------------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Series Two Episode Four by Eric Idle ---------------------------------------------------- The Hard To Get Words and Music by Neil Innes -------------------------------------------------- Hi hi hi, low low low Hey hey hey, quick quick slow Here's a brand new dance I'll tell you how it's done It's a little unusual And not much fun It's not like the bump It's not like the hustle And it'll never never never Be a film by Ken Russell It's the hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get It's easy to do You soon get the knack You just shrug your shoulders and turn your back! And do the hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Keep your distance Keep your cool Let no one come near you That's the golden rule Hard to get Hi hi hi, low low low Hey hey hey, quick quick slow You just groove around When you do this dance You don't give no one A second glance But sure as X is X And there are stars up above The hard to get Is a dance of love So do the hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get It's easy to do You soon get the knack You just shrug your shoulders and turn your back! And do the hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Be unapproachable! Remain aloof! Pass the time of day with no one! Be on your own! Hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Hard to get, hard to get Everybody's doin' the hard to get Well everybody Is doin' the hard To get..... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twenty-Four Hours in Tunbridge Wells Words by Eric Idle, Music by Neil Innes ----------------------------- ANNOUNCER ERIC: Starting soon on Rutland Weekend, a new series of Classically Bad American Films, commencing with the touching tale of three laughing, singing, dancing, lovable American sailors with 24 hours liberty in one of the most exciting towns in Kent. (Three sailors - Eric, Neil and a young boy voiced by Henry Woolf, sing and dance in the classic musical tradition.) NEIL: The most exciting place in the world for sailors BOY: With the most exciting wicked naughty girls ERIC: More exciting than a book of Norman Mailer's NEIL: That's Tunbridge Wells! We're on our way to Tunbridge Wells Tunbridge Wells casts its magic spells We'll spend all day in Tunbridge Wells And smell all the Tunbridge Wells smells sniff - AHH! Where the women are women and the men are rougher and tougher than the worst of hell's men Tunbridge, Tunbridge, --- Tunbridge Wells!! We've been to Leamington - - - - We've been to Malvern - - - - And we've been to Cheltenham with all of the swells But the place we dig the most in the world is Tunbridge Wells!! (Slower, now. The sailors wander around aimlessly with nothing to do.) Tunbridge Wells on closing day Nuttin' to do and nuttin' to say Gonna shout out hip hooray I got 24 hours in Tunbridge Wells to while... a.... ...way. -------------------------- IDLE: Sir Keith Joseph - does he exist or not? To discuss the problem we have with us in the studio four economists, two politicians, my brother-in-law, my auntie, a small packet of Fairy Snow, a little wheelbarrow, a large rock cod, a piece of... (BATTLEY ENTERS) Yes? BATTLEY: Bad news I'm afraid. IDLE: My wife... She's...still with me? BATTLEY: No, she's still with me. IDLE: Oh I am sorry. BATTLEY: Don't worry - it's worse than that. You're getting a bad notice. IDLE: What? BATTLEY: Wally Bird, the television critic's given you a bad notice. IDLE: What's he say? BATTLEY: Well he says he's still watching the programme but it's bad. IDLE: Not 'If this is comedy I'm a dutchman's uncle'? BATTLEY: No, it's worse than that. IDLE: What, you don't mean 'Dire stuff indeed'? BATTLEY: 'Fraid so. IDLE (TO CAMERA): Well that's typical isn't it. You flog your guts out for a quarter of the money you can get on ITV and some spotty little cretin who gets paid for watching television makes smartarsed remarks in his cheapskate egocentric little column. They come creeping up to you at parties and receptions looking for free funny lines they can stick in their nasty newspapers and trying to get your autograph for their pallid little offspring, and next thing you know they're staying up all night trying to squeeze witticisms like blackheads out of their second-rate minds at your expense. And those female bitch writers with brains in their bums, blinking at the box, night after night. They're worse than the Wally Birds of this world - at least he doesn't pretend to be intelligent, WHICH IS JUST AS WELL! As he's stupid! Downright stupid! All critics are stupid! It's a stupid bloody job! And I hate their stupid mean stupid petty stupid cheapskate stupid hack journalistic minds!! (HENRY WOOLF ENTERS) WOOLF: Well done! IDLE: What? WOOLF: Wally Bird has just said you were magnificent. IDLE: Whaaat? WOOLF: Yes, he's given you a rave. IDLE: Really? WOOLF: Yes, he said the tirade against the critics in particular was a masterly use of satirical invective. IDLE: He said that? WOOLF: Yes. IDLE: Well, y...you know, he's not stupid all the time. You know, obviously, if he's picking up things like this, he's pretty perceptive. WOOLF: Yes. IDLE: Y'know, not...not all critics are rubbish by any means. (NEIL INNES ENTERS) INNES: Letitia Hunt's just given you a great notice! IDLE: Really? INNES: Yes. IDLE: Well, I've always thought she was pretty good actually, I always read her anyway. (TO CAMERA AGAIN) Look, perhaps I ought to say a word of apology, maybe I...I did rather over-react there, y'know, to criticism, obviously there are good and bad critics, well they're not necessarily bad critics, y'know - most critics have to be pretty competent, indeed very intelligent, y'know, so please don't take amiss what I said just then and if you are thinking of doing a write-up, thank you very much for watching the programme and we should be most interested to know what you've got to say about it... BATTLEY: Ohhh, shut up, you creep! --------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Series Two Episode Five by Eric Idle ---------------------------- Song O' the Insurance Men Lyrics by Eric Idle ---------------------------- We cover you against fire and flood Way Ho! Endowment! But not riots, war, nor act of God Way Ho! Endowment! Over a period of thirty years Way Ho! Endowment! Unless of course you're in arrears Way Ho! and up your premium! ---- Accountancy Shanty Lyrics by Eric Idle ------------------------- BATTLEY: Look, up in the trees! Accountants. The long day's accounts are done and they gather here in the Reigate Woods to sing accountancy shanties. ACCOUNTANT (Idle) 'Twas in my youth I ran away To accountancy one day With pen and paper collar and stud Accountancy was in my blood I'll scribble away and balance the books and sing an accountancy shanty! I chartered an accountant at the age of twenty-one I'll scribble away and balance the books and sing an accountancy shanty! So raise a glass of medium-dry sherry To the golden age of VAT I'll scribble away and balance the books and sing an accountancy shanty! BATTLEY: Ah, it's a rare sight for this part of Reigate.... ANOTHER LONELY MAN Words and Music by Neil Innes --------------------------- I don't want to fall in love again I know my heart could never stand the pain Meanwhile I'll try to get by if I can From now on I'll be another lonely man I'd like to thank you For the way you held my hand That moonlit night Down by the old Rio Grande Now even Paris in the spring Does not mean a thing But the streetlights seem to understand That I don't want to fall in love again I know my heart could never stand the pain Meanwhile I'll try to get by if I can From now on I'll be another lonely man When I come home at night A little worse for drink I see my empty room and razor by the sink But it's no use to me It runs on batteries And I got to get some new ones I think Oh I don't want to fall in love again I know my heart could never stand the pain Meanwhile I'll try to get by if I can From now on I'll be another lonely man I still remember the things we used to do Mixing cocktails and sharing our shampoo And that night you lost your key You blamed it all on me Because we were both dressed up as kangaroos Oh I don't want to fall in love again I know my heart could never stand the pain Meanwhile I'll try to get by if I can From now on I'll be another lonely man From now on I'll be another lonely man ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sketches from Rutland Weekend Television Series 2, Episode 7 by Eric Idle ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Rover the Drover by Eric Idle ------------------------- Rover the Drover is not what he seems 'Cos he stole the heart of the cow of my dreams. Rover the Drover don't come round no more 'Cos he stole the heart of the cow I adore. ---------------------------- Janitor's Kids Words and Music by Neil Innes --------------------------- GWEN: What's that you're playing? NEIL: Oh, just a piano. GWEN: I like you, you're kinda cute! NEIL: Oh, I'm just an ordinary fellow. GWEN: Me too. We were made for each other! NEIL: Hang it off, why pretend? GWEN/NEIL: We're just the janitor's kids Playin' on the penthouse floor We know we shouldn't be here but We done it many times before We're just the janitor's kids Pretending to be millionaires Sipping champagne glasses And sitting in expensive chairs Knee deep in carpet with the help of Daddy's key Hope he doesn't get the sack on account of you and me We're up in paradise High above the poor We're just the janitor's kids Playin' on the penthouse floor NEIL: Hey, haven't I seen you someplace before? GWEN: It's a small world! NEIL: Monte Carlo? GWEN: Saint Moritz! NEIL: Of course, you were the one who came out of the cake! GWEN: And you were selling snowballs! GWEN/NEIL: We're up in paradise High above the poor We're just the janitor's kids Playin' on the penthouse floor ----------------------------- FALLEN ARCH ANGEL by Neil Innes --- I used to be in heaven Up on cloud nine With a silver linin' I used to call mine Now you can find me Walkin' the street I'm a fallen arch angel Oooh, my poor feet. ------------------------- Slaves of Freedom Words and lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------- Stamp your feet and clap your hands (We are the slaves of freedom) Somewhere there's a promised land (We are the slaves of freedom) Where we can do what we like (We are the slaves of freedom) Where no one gets off their bike (We are the slaves of freedom) Freedom is the handle on the bucket of your soul The image of illusion in the goldfish of your bowl The shampoo of perfection in the bathroom of your dreams Freedom is the universe and everything it seems Oh yeah We all live until we die (We are the slaves of freedom) There's no sense in wondering why (We are the slaves of freedom) So pick up your heavy load (We are the slaves of freedom) And keep on truckin' down the road (We are the slaves of freedom) The management accepts no responsibility For any articles of clothing or accessory Such as handbags or umbrellas Or books on self defense Or things left unattended in the Ladies' or the Gents' Oh yeah We are in a funny mood (We are the slaves of freedom) Let's do something really rude (We are the slaves of freedom) We can't all be Wyatt Earp (We are the slaves of freedom) So let's stick out our tongues and slpppphh-urp (We are the slaves of freedom) Freedom is the handle on the bucket of your soul The backbone of ambition in the goldfish of your bowl The pedestal of purpose in the bathroom of your dreams Freedom is the universe and everything it seems Oh yeah (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) (We are the slaves of freedom) It's Hard to Make it When You're Straight Music and Lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------------- ERIC: Well, til then ... pfft ... just 'til then really. (Credits roll.) (We hear this song, and halfway through, we see who's singing it -- the whole cast ... Eric in drag, Neil as Superman, Carinthia as part of a barbershop quarter ... general insanity.) WHOLE CAST: It's hard to make it when you're straight, It gets better, much better, The more you deviate! If you're remotely regal, It's absolutely legal! You can blame it on your mother, If you want to love a brother. Just find a special friend, And you'll get lucky in the end! For its hard to make it when you're straight! It's hard! (So very hard) It's hard! (So very hard) It's hard to make it when you're straight, When there's nothing in the closet you want to liberate! If your instincts as a pansy are only transient, You can talk about it freely, without embarrassment, But if the ring upon your finger Is the only thing that's bent...... Then its hard to make it when you're straight! It's hard to... (Black screen, suddenly.) ANNOUNCER ERIC: Well, I'm afraid that program has been taken off. In this space next week, there will be a gap. Starring DAVID BATTLEY, ERIC IDLE, NEIL INNES, GWEN TAYLOR, TERENCE BAYLER, BUNNY MAY, FATSO and CARINTHIA WEST --------------------------- More lyrics from various episodes: ------------------------- Godfrey Daniel Words and Music by Neil Innes ------------------------- A million miles from the old routine A midnight candle burned I believe in believing I'm deeply concerned Walking down the runway Through the pouring rain Stretching out my arms like A supersonic pla-y-yane God free Daniel He ain't done nothing wrong Let him go back to Ohio Or wherever he belong If all the trees were candles And who's to say they're not The world would be a birthday cake And we could eat the lot But too many cooks can spoil the broth And a stitch in time saves nine A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush And I'll never change my mind Godfrey Daniel He ain't done nothing wrong Let him go back to Ohio Or wherever he belong A tightrope walker has a balanced mind As well as arms and legs But why do chickens cross the road Not to mention layin' eggs I guess I'll never know Or truly understand Anyhow its not just doorknobs That come off in your hand God free Daniel He ain't done nothing wrong Let him go back to Ohio Or wherever he belong Godfrey Daniel He ain't done nothing wrong Let him go back to Ohio Or wherever he belong --------------------------- I Give Myself To You Words and lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------- I give myself to you For I know I've so much to give Oh ho And when I'm feeling this way There's just one thing I gotta say Believe me darlin' Believe me I'm incredible Whenever life becomes inedible You know you can rely on me To provide an alternative recipe Innocent moments of boredom can corrupt you There are so many bestial things to get up to The world is a manifestation of you and me Every star in the sky, every drop in the sea Open your eyes to the energy of ugliness It's the same thing as beauty, all things being equal It's no surprise then you feel full of emptiness The pattern of life is so full of detail Let me explain the inexplicable Then let me solve the inextricable Then when I'm through, all the world will see I've given myself to me -------------------------------------------------- Crystal Balls Words and lyrics by Neil Innes --------------------------- I got m'hand up the skirt of Mother Nature I got m'foot in the door of liberty I got m'head stuck in the railings of reason Thank God for the banjo on m'knee Crystal balls (balls!) To fortune tellers Reveal a swarm of what-will-bees (zoom zoom zoom zoom) All in all (all in all) Like clocks and watches (bong - cuckoo!) We got time on our hands and destinies I've heard the squeal of tyres around a corner I've broken down and I've been towed I've seen everything I ever hoped and dreamed for Squashed like a hedgehog in the road Crystal balls (balls!) To fortune tellers Reveal a swarm of what-will-bees (zoom zoom zoom zoom) All in all (all in all) Like clocks and watches (bong - cuckoo!) We got time on our hands and destinies Just give me wide open spaces and clean living As long as I've a banjo to pluck I'll sing to the cactus and coyotes Hippity-hi, hippity-ho, que serarrr! Crystal balls (balls!) To fortune tellers Reveal a swarm of what-will-bees (zoom zoom zoom zoom) All in all (all in all) Like clocks and watches (bong - cuckoo!) We got time on our hands and destinies (bum bum bum bum) Crystal balls (balls!) To fortune tellers Reveal a swarm of what-will-bees (zoom zoom zoom zoom) All in all (all in all) Like clocks and watches (bong - cuckoo!) We got time on our hands and destinies -------------------------- Topless A-Go-Go Words and Music by Neil Innes ---------------------------- Slick Willie was a shoeshine boy Workin' downtown, 42nd Street He had a little racket dealin' out some packets that no one ever saw him eat Well Rita was a go-go dancer in a bar just across the street While Willie shined shoes Rita swung her boobs to a hunky, funky, junkier beat Topless-A-Go-Go Put a little shine on your shoes Dress up nice, 'cause you're in paradise And you chase away the mean ol' blues Well Willie knew Rita danced topless And Rita knew Willie shined shoe Because very night among the flashing lights They'd come out 'n' say "How do you do?" There each went about their business Until the break of day Then they count out the bucks while the garbage trucks Tow the rest of the night away Topless-A-Go-Go Put a little shine on your shoes Dress up nice, 'cause you're in paradise And you chase away the mean ol' blues Dooby doop doo Doobly doobly doo Waah waah Dooby doop doo Oooh oooh Well Willie was found in an alley And Rita got stabbed by a drunk A telephone call replaced "The Belle of the Ball" and there was someone else dealin' out junk Well if you can't see the moral of this story Well then you can't see the trees for the wood Because the things that are done in the name of fun Can cost a whole lot more than they should Topless-A-Go-Go Put a little shine on your shoes Dress up nice, 'cause you're in paradise And you chase away the mean ol'... Topless-A-Go-Go Put a little shine on your shoes Dress up nice, 'cause you're in paradise And you chase away the mean ole' blues ------------------------- Drama on a Saturday Night Words and music by Neil Innes --------------------------------------------------- Bella was a beauty queen One of a kind She couldn't get ambition off her mind She entered every contest from Redcar to Penzance She entered anywhere she stood a chance Then one day, way down yonder In Shanklin, Isle of Wight, She became a big name overnight She was placed above the rest The winners sash across her breast She wept with joy, she kissed the crown She was the toast of her home town Drama on a Saturday night A story of human emotion Love is as shallow as people And as deep as the ocean She posed for Sunday papers wearing nothing but a smile She took 'em off while putting on the style She soon became the sweetheart of a playboy millionaire Who bought her clothes and took her everywhere They were married in Las Vegas She said solemnly "I do" amidst t.v.cameras and Yankee ballyhoo Bella frequented the nightclub scene as befits an ex-beauty queen She took to drink while her playboy played And so it was their love decayed Drama on a Saturday night A story of human emotion Love is as shallow as people And as deep as the ocean Bella got a gun Bella shot him dead "He died instantly" the coroner said And so behind dark glasses Bella hid her eyes It's unsightly when a woman cries Just who was to blame the press would soon find out But as it was, the jury had no doubt The verdict was guilty The judge had no choice He said "You get life" in a serious voice But Bella just laughed and tearfully said, "Oh what a joke, I've always been dead!" Drama on a Saturday night A story of human emotion Love is as shallow as people And as deep as the ocean Drama on a Saturday night A story of human emotion Love is as shallow as people And as deep as the ocean ------------------------------------------------------ Transcribed by Bonnie Rose, Laurie Stevens, SOTCAA, Garrett Gilchrist Visit http://orangecow.org/pythonet/rwt