The Two Ronnies (1971) s05e07 Episode Script

Series 5, Episode 7

(Applause) Good evening.
It's nice to be with you again, isn't it, Ronnie? Yes, it is, and in a packed programme tonight, we shall review the diary of Fifi von Grippstrangler, the 19th-century good-time girl who had visits from several famous musicians.
She remembers particularly Rachmaninov's third and Beethoven's fifth.
She also mentions Haydn's surprise, Berlioz' fantastic, Tchaikovsky's pathetic and Schubert's unfinished.
Then we'll talk to a Scotsman who every year takes all his money out of the bank for a holiday.
Then when it's had a nice holiday, he puts it all back in again.
But first, the news.
Allegations that the government are a load of softies and not fit to run the country are completely denied today in a new government white paper delivered to MPs in a scented pink envelope with little hearts on it.
Mr Patrick 0'Flynn of Dublin was arrested today for streaking through a nudist camp.
Sport, and in the AAA championship yesterday, George Minter won the 26-mile walk for the third year running.
He was disqualified because he should've been walking.
And in the international relay event, the Irish 4x400m team built up a commanding lead before handing the baton to the Russian team.
In the show-jumping at the Badminton Horse Trials, Princess Anne once again left her mark.
So he had to go home by bus.
Crack-shot big-game hunter Sir Hartley Fawcett, famous for his slogan, "Shoot 'em right between the eyes," was eaten late last night by two one-eyed tigers walking arm in arm.
(Applause) In the sketch that follows, I interview the Archbishop of Canterbury and Marjorie Proops.
And I interview Marjorie and the Archbishop of Canterbury Proops.
Yes, perhaps er Half a pint of bitter, please.
Well, I never! Spillworth.
- Yes? - You remember me.
Whittles - Jasper Whittles.
0h! Goodness me.
I didn't recognise you for a moment, there.
Darling, I'd like you to meet a very old school chum of mine.
- Spillworth Minor.
- Henry Spillworth.
(French accent) How do you do, Spillworth Minor? This is Trudi.
We used to share everything at school, didn't we? Same house, same form, same locker.
We had that place pretty well sewn up between us, eh? 0ne year, I'd win the sports prize, he'd win the form prize, next year, he'd win the sports prize, I'd win the science prize.
Do you remember old Phipps, the old master? He used to say if ever Britain needed two prime ministers at once, it would be us.
- Do you remember that? - Yes, yes.
Well, tell all.
What are you doing, running the Foreign 0ffice? No, I erm No, I didn't I didn't do that after all.
Now, don't tell me you became a barrister.
You said you wouldn't become a barrister.
No, I, er, I went to work in my father's business.
0h, yes, you told me about that.
- It's a confectionary business, isn't it? - Yes.
Sweet shop.
- Sweet shop? - Yes.
0h, that's awfully nice, isn't it? Sweet shop.
How lovely.
I often wish I'd done something like that myself.
Yes, what are you? What do you? What are you doing? I've made rather a mess of my life, actually.
I got myself dragged into the awful world of films, you know.
Films? Gosh, that's pretty exciting.
No, it's absolutely awful.
It's just like going to the office, really.
Jasper has a white Rolls-Royce to collect him every morning.
Yes, darling.
Where are you living, old chap? Well, I've got this, erm, flat, really, above the shop.
0h, that's nice, that's nice.
Convenient, yes.
And what about you? Where do you live? Well, I've got a sort of little flatty-type house, you know.
It's actually too big, really, difficult to look after, you know.
- It's not as big as the house in Hollywood.
- Hollywood? Gosh.
- That's very exciting.
- No, it's a house they lend me when I'm over there working.
Jasper is always having to fly to Los Angeles.
- Gosh, how exciting! Los Angeles.
- Mmm.
Jasper has his own private plane, a Boeing.
- Boeing? - 0nly a little Boeing, darling.
It has eight engines and it does all sorts of things.
I know it's got eight engines but we don't use them all, darling.
- Do you know Henry Kissinger? - Er, Henry Kissin Well, I've seen pictures of him, you know, with the wavy hair and the glasses.
Jasper and Henry Kissinger are just like that.
0h, darling, that's not true.
We've had him to dinner twice.
Henry Kissinger? He's the Secretary of State for the whole of the US.
I know but for how long, old chap? For how long, eh? No, no, let's talk about you.
You're much more important.
No, not really.
I must be getting back actually.
Now, you're running a little sweep shop? Yes, I'd better get back to it, actually.
- What sort of sweets sell best, though? - Well, we're changing it all - I love sweets - Goodbye, I'll see you later.
Don't go away, old boy, I want to hear about your sweet shop, old chap.
He's gone.
Do you know, that's the first time I've beaten that swine Spillworth at anything.
(Applause) Good evening.
I'm appealing to you tonight on behalf of those unfortunate people who have difficulty with worms.
They just can't say their worms correctly.
Now, my name is Poctor Poger Smish and I'm an eminent drain sturgeon and I'm squeaking to you tonight as secretary of the Loyal Society for the Prevenciation of Pismonunciation.
Now, you know, pronismonunciation can be very embarrass embrassering.
If you go up to the vicar, meaning to say, "Dow are to you dehay, Vicar?" And it comes out as, "Yow a who a-oiday, Vicar?" You don't half feel a twit.
Some people even use at tine entirely the wrong worms and this can be very unfasten it all round.
I never twice a dong lime ago an old angler exploded to me, "I haven't fought a king all day.
" 0f course, you don't find many kings to fight on the River Itchen.
He meant, "I haven't caught a ding all fay.
" He was using the wrong worms and that's why he hadn't caught a thing.
It was all extremely diccifult for him.
If you suffer from this affection, well, here is a piece of abuse.
If it hurts you don't succeed, hi-fi fry again.
Let me put that another way.
Foam wasn't split in a tray.
And don't put all you legs in one gasket.
Why not join our society? 0ur members range from pukes to pus conductors.
We even have one member who, not to mince words, is a trat or, in other words, a trostipute.
We have branches in London, Glasgow, Liverpill and on the Pontinent, if you're going Pontinental, at Prussels, Amsterham, Haris, Rope, Stickholm, Helsanki and Also.
0ur patrons include Her Majesty the Queeg.
Prince Phyllis.
The Grime Minister, Mr Grim Calorgas.
And the bleeder of the opposition, Mrs Scratcher.
(Applause) Last time I appealed to you on the television, the response was, brankly, a great dish of ointment to me.
In fact, we didn't get a single letter, so this time, please fry and do butter.
Send us your honey, whether in marg or in small amounts to this address - the Loyal Society for the Pretention of Misbrobuncitation The 0ld Major Mouse, 32Z Hugh Street, Buckingham, Tucks.
I'll just repeal that.
The Loyal Sequoiaty for the Detention of Pissed at Euston Station, The 0ld Banger House, 286 Pied Pie Street, Luckingham, Ducks.
Thank me and from you, food bye to me all.
Food bite and hanky for biscuiting.
(Applause) The net was slowly drawing in on the Phantom Raspberry Blower who, for weeks, had been frightening the respectable inhabitants of old London Town by his shocking and repulsive attacks.
(Raspberry) (Raspberry) (Raspberry) - Queen Victoria herself was threatened.
- (Raspberry) Chief Inspector Corner of the Yard had received a note, telling him to be in the graveyard at midnight.
On the way there, he had come within an inch of victory outside the stage door of the Hippodrome.
Ah, Dulcie, darling, you gorgeous creature.
- Hello, Lord Peter.
- Hello.
- I got your note, Lord Peter.
- And what is your answer, dearest thing? Well, when a girl is offered a diamond bracelet, a country cottage and a fur wrap, and all she's got to do is just, well, what you said in your note, well, the only possible answer is (Raspberry) 0h, I say, good Lord, look here, steady on, really, what was that? (Manic laughter) You know what that was, don't you? That was him.
That was the Phantom Raspberry Blower of 0ld London Town.
What was that? I thought I heard the thud of something dull hitting the floor.
That was his lordship.
Inspector, that was the Phantom, dressed as a flower seller.
What? So he's escaped under our very noses.
We must get his lordship to hospital.
There's one round the corner.
That's no good.
That's a loony bin.
Great Scott, so it is! Why didn't I think of that before? Maybe that is the Phantom's hiding place.
Bowles, we are going to the asylum.
0h.
Feeling a bit off colour again, sir? Not me, you fool.
We are going to search the place.
I had to give him a sedative, quietened him down considerably.
I don't think we should have any more trouble now.
All right, Bowles, I'll start at this end, you start at the other.
- Look in every room.
- Very good, sir.
I can't seem to concentrate, Doctor.
0ne minute I'm talking about something and the next I've forgotten every word.
I see.
And how long has this been going on? How long has what been going on? B0? B0? But I can't have got B0.
I've got such a wide circle of friends.
Bad breath? What makes you think you've got bad breath? - People tell me.
- 0h! Well, why don't you believe them? Look, I tell you what you've got to do.
Take a teaspoonful of horse manure every morning.
Will that cure it? No but it'll tone it down a bit.
I can't seem to get on with people you fat old pig.
No, I can find absolutely nothing wrong with you at all.
Frankly, I think it's due to drink.
Well, in that case, I'll come back when you're sober.
This looks very cloudy, Nurse.
No, it's not, it's just that we haven't cleaned the windows lately.
0h, I see.
Hang on - Any sign of him? - No, sir.
- What a complete waste of time.
- 0h, I rather enjoyed it, sir.
Good grief, it's nearly midnight.
To the graveyard.
That's my whistle, sir.
Outside, a cab was waiting.
To the graveyard.
Mark my words, Bowles, this Phantom is as sane as you or I are.
He just wants us to believe he's insane.
But if he think I'm daft enough to believe he's mad, he's crazy.
Yes, sir.
Gad, but we must stop him before he reaches Her Majesty the Queen.
If only we knew what he looked like.
We've both seen him twice and yet, and yet it's one of those faces, once seen, never remembered.
Yes, sir.
What's the matter, Bowles? You suddenly look so different.
I'm not myself this evening, sir.
Well, we must keep our spirits up.
Time for a quick chorus of God Save The Queen before we get there.
(Drum roll) # God save our gracious queen # Long live our noble queen # God save the queen # (0wl hoots) You wait over there and if you see anything, scream.
Don't worry, I will, sir.
(Clock strikes midnight) (Raspberry) (Creaking) (Applause) (Roars) (Raspberry) (Vicious raspberry) Once again, it is victory for the monster.
Once again, the Inspector is beaten.
Once again, the world is at the mercy of the Phantom Raspberry Blower of Old London Town.
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Barbara Dickson.
# Careless fortunes can be made # If you should ride upon a wave # And you'll see the easy way laid out before you # And gold and silver spilling out # An endless fountain with a spout # To dazzle your eyes But have no doubt # You'll need your senses # High on fortune, high on fame # High on fortune, high on fame # You've got to keep your senses keen # 0h, to know will be mean # You've a long way to go # You will maybe glide on through # And smoothly, smoothly running, too # Comfort, ease and so much more # And all the gifts you have in store # Sound of mind and wind and limb until the tax man comes on in # Hypnotising all the way and spiriting it all away # High on fortune, high on fame # High on fortune, high on fame # You've got to keep your senses keen # 0h, to know will be mean # You've a long way to go # 0oh # High on fortune, high on fame # High on fortune, high on fame # You've got to keep your senses keen # 0h, to know will be mean # High on fortune, high on fame # High on fortune, high on fame # You've got to keep your senses keen # 0h, to know will be mean # (Applause) (Buzzer) - Yes, Miss Tindale? - Mr Ratbane to see you, sir.
Ratbane? Is that that playwright chappie again? - Yes, Mr Wilfson.
- 0h, God.
0h, all right, send him in.
The door opens and Ratbane stands in the doorway.
Come in, Mr Ratbane.
The room is that of a provincial solicitor.
There's an armchair down centre opposite Wilfson's desk, right.
Whisky and soda stand ready on a small table down left.
This is obviously a room with a purpose.
See frontispiece.
Won't you take a seat, Mr Ratbane? September sun slants in through the window.
It is evening.
Ratbane looks around him and walks further into the room.
Wilfson speaks.
- Please sit down, Mr Ratbane.
- Ratbane moves centre and does so.
He is a well-dressed man, attractive without ostentation, intelligent, the sort women can trust.
Cigarette? With easy grace.
Thank you.
Wilfson, with rising impatience Mr Ratbane, what can I do for you? Wilfson is in his early 50s and is rapidly going to seed.
He's badly dressed, coarse and clumsy.
- 0h, I say! - His fingers make drumming movements.
0h, look! It would be unfair to think of Mr Wilfson as being in anyway vulgar.
His delicate movements exemplify an inner sensitivity.
- Although - He demure looks hide a man of steel.
Wilfson, with rising impatience, I'm a very busy man, Mr Ratbane.
Facetiously.
No, really? So if you'd kindly come to the point.
Sitting.
Ratbane Ratbane, knowing he holds all the cards, down left, relishes the moment.
Walks up stage, flicks cigarette out of the window.
I haven't been idle this past week, moving closer to Wilfson.
Carelessly.
0h, really? Towering above him, his shoulders like the facts of life.
Yes, I have been up in my grandmother's attic, right up.
Up right.
Seemingly indifferent.
0h, yes? Confident now, moving down stage.
Yes and what I discovered might very well interest your secretary, Miss Tindale.
Wilfson starts.
Wilfson, with complete suavity rising.
I don't know what you're talking about.
With equal suavity.
0h, yes, you do.
And with sudden violence, and this time money won't save you.
I've discovered that Laura Tindale is the rightful heir to the Cheeseman millions and, with pointed finger, you have been keeping her in ignorance.
Goggle-eyed.
Never! Vehemently.
Yes.
Incredulously.
Me? Trips over wastepaper basket.
- The door opens.
- A lady enters with a gun.
It is Laura Tindale.
Laura Tindale is outwardly a mousy creature but the discerning eye might well see signs of a barely hidden passionate nature.
She only awaits the right man.
I have overheard all.
She points to intercom.
They all stare at the guilty instrument.
With cold fury.
You have denied my birthright.
Down right.
Pathetically, up right.
No, no! With wild aim, take that.
- She shoots.
- (Shot) He falls wounded.
0h! Now, take me, Denzel Ratbane.
Can you deny the unspoken passion betwixt copy typist and playwright? This thing, moving up centre, is bigger than both of us.
Let's get out of here.
(Applause) They don't write stuff like real life any more.
- He dies.
Audience applauds.
- (Applause) Thank you.
Listen to this.
This is about a chap lost in the desert, without food or water, you know.
The sun is blazing down from a cloudless sky.
A beautiful day, in fact.
And he's staggering along saying, "Water! Water!" Actually Sorry, he didn't say, by the way, "Water, water, actually.
" No, no, I thought I said that, I said the actually.
No, well, you know, you might be confused.
All he said was, "Water, water.
" The actually actually was mine.
I erm Well, you'd look a bit stupid staggering about in the desert, saying, "Water, water, actually.
" Although if there's nobody there to hear him it doesn't matter if he says, "Water, water" or, "Kiss my aunt," does it, really? But anyway, I digress.
And what I was going to say is that this is not the actual joke that I'm going to tell you.
This is one that I happened to notice No, it's one that I happened to notice in an old Reader's Digest, you know, when I was asleep in bed last night.
And when Well, obviously, I wasn't asleep when I noticed it, that would be cleverer than most but I'd been asleep.
I'd been asleep - I want to get the facts right.
I had been asleep and my wife woke me up.
She said, "Hey, you, shorty.
" Now She's got a terrible memory for names, bless her, you know.
She said, "Would you like to hear the patter of tiny feet?" I said, "Darling, of course I would.
" She said, "So would I.
Go and get me a glass of water.
" So So a bit A bit later, I am laying there, I can't sleep, I'm wondering about things like, you know, why does she always spill it on my side? And whatever happened to Jane Russell? And isn't nature wonderful? And all that sort of thing.
And I looked at my wife and I toyed for a moment with the idea of giving her a knock on the mud pack.
Now "Coo-ee!" kind of thing.
It's hard to imagine that when we first met, she was a beauty queen at our local tyre factory.
Miss Retread of 1964, she was known as.
Actually, I think our marriage got off to a bad start on our honeymoon.
I've heard of brides going to bed with a rose between their teeth, she had a cyanide capsule.
Yes.
And a night And a nightdress that hadn't seen action since it was a greatcoat in the Polish cavalry.
But But I digress and what I'm trying to tell you is how I came to find this joke.
I thought to myself, "It's no good lying here crying.
"I'll go and find something to read.
" Cheer myself up a bit, you see? And I remembered that lying on the sideboard downstairs was an old Reader's Digest, April 1968.
I remembered that because it had been lying there since April 1968.
That's another thing, you know.
My wife, she's not very house-proud.
We are probably the only family in Wimbledon with Christmas decorations all year round.
No, she doesn't get much time for housework because she's a health fanatic.
She doesn't do exercises and all that, she just spends a lot of time at the doctor's.
0h, yes.
She spends a lot of time at the doctor's.
More time than he does, actually, but anyway.
No, she takes sandwiches and hangs round the waiting room waiting for cancelled appointments.
And she reads all the medical journals, you know, like the Lancet and that sort of thing and does all the competitions in them.
Like spot the gynaecologist.
Then there's another one where they show you pictures of six doctors and you put them in the order in which they should be struck off.
You can have lovely prizes, too, if you win.
You can have two of your friends certified for Christmas.
It's different, isn't it? So now you know where I found the joke about the chap in the desert.
Remember him? "Water, water, actually.
" He didn't say the actually, I said the actually.
So he staggers You could go home and say he told a story about water, water, actually.
Anyway, so he staggers along until he meets an Arab on a camel.
And he goes, "Water! Water! Water!" Do you know, I've never had an acting lesson in my life? "Water!" Perhaps I should've done.
Whereupon Whereupon the Arab, who unfortunately speaks with a Pakistani accent If ever there was a piece of material written to show off my limitations, this is it.
He said He said, "Do you want to purchase a lovely tie, sir?" (Applause) Actually, I'm not as bad as I thought I was.
He produces a suitcase full of ties.
"Lovely ties," he says, "all colours.
"I've got a wonderful blue one here, go very nicely with your sunburn.
" He said, "What about a nice BBC tie, perhaps? Small checks.
" - (Applause) - "Water" "Water, water!" says our friend.
The Arab gets on the back of his camel and goes away.
The next day, it happens again, the Arab on the camel, "Do you want to buy a lovely tie?" "Water, water.
" No deal, you see.
By the following day, the chap is on his last gasp when he comes to this great new hotel in the desert and he practically crawls up the front steps, you know, hand after hand, and he arrives at the front door - "Water! Water!" And the doorman says, "Sorry, sir, you can't come in here without a tie.
" (Applause) The little village of Bendover in Buckinghamshire, normally a peaceful, rather drowsy backwater, is today transformed into an excited community.
Its inhabitants are going about their business with a gleam in their eye and purpose in their step because only last week they were chosen to represent Britain in the international final of It's A Knockout in Belgium later this month.
The whole population is on tenterhooks because naturally everyone wants to take part but only eight people - four men, four women - are allowed in the team.
So as you can imagine, the competition is extremely keen.
Everyone is in training, trying desperately to prove themselves good enough to be chosen as part of that lucky team of competitors to have two weeks in Brussels.
The newspaper boy, Charlie Tickler, has been practising for three weeks and hopes to be chosen for his accuracy.
In the supermarket, the ladies of the village train as they do their shopping.
They're lined up ready for the off now, they're under starters orders and they're off.
And the race is over two lengths of the bacon counter and one of these ladies is carrying seven stone overweight but has proved very good over rough ground.
And here she is, the Red Dragon, the Red Dragon.
There she is, and some wonderful footwork, there, with the cheese.
And here comes Black Beauty, she's closely followed by Black Beauty, and ohl She's fallen at Cornflakes Turn and the rest of field are passing her by now.
And here comes Black Beauty.
Oh, no, she's being sent back.
She's being sent back by the judges.
She's failed to collect the proper goods and the rest of the field are going past now and it's a race for last place between Black Beauty and the Red Dragon - and at the line - (Whistle) They're out of time.
And now the box balancing.
There's a lot of bumping goes on here as the ladies try to get through to the car park.
And here comes Black Beauty again.
How does she do it? How does she do it? Oh, that's how she does it.
Anything goes in this fight to make the team for Bendover.
Flying toilet rolls feature in the next event and ladies score every time they catch one in their skirt.
All she's likely to catch is a cold.
There's plenty of rivalry in the village and training is pretty well non-stop.
Mary Upjohn and her neighbour Janet Sykes liven up a tedious wash day with a friendly pillow fight.
They even have an umpire up a ladder.
But friendly as it is, even the best of friends must part.
(Shrieks) Round one to Mary Upjohn.
Arthur Wainscot, bank manager, is in strict training and his wife has devised a marvellous way of combining rigorous exercise programme with an effective method of dieting.
(Elastic twanging) (Drum roll) (Crashing) Meanwhile, back in the garden, the girls are into round two.
Janet is attempting to dry her smalls.
But Mary's aim is to wet them.
(Shrieking) But umpire PC Green is there to see that no one gets too wet.
One couple who are determined to make the Knockout team are Mr and Mrs Arnold Beckwith.
Mr Beckwith informs me that they limber up every evening in the bedroom.
Mrs Beckwith says she feels much better for it but the bedsprings have certainly taken a hammering.
Be quiet! He's terrible.
The milkman, Roger Allgood, occasionally joins them for an evening's training.
But according to Mr Beckwith, he can't get the hang of it and keeps causing Mrs Beckwith to fall on top of him.
Mr Beckwith is quite confident and says that Roger isn't even in with a chance.
But I'm not so sure.
Whatever happens, life in the peaceful village of Bendover in Buckinghamshire looks like it might not be quite so uneventful after this.
(Applause) (Male chorus) # Miserere, again the weight of sorrow # For him whose eyes shall ne'er behold # The morrow # Miserere # A peaceful rest attend him # Good angels guard him # Ah, me, with what anguish # I await my beloved # My poor frail body # Is wasting away # In yon gloomy tower # The cause of my pining's at present reclining in her chamber # Dear, ah, me # When will she # Be free # To be mine own? # 0h, would I only be # Ah, troubadour, my own # I love you true # Who the bloody hell are you? # I'm Arthur Cox # Manager from the front of house # What happened to Dulcie, then? # She's been on the booze again # In dressing room number four # She's flat on the floor # I can't carry on with you # You look so ridiculous dressed in that terrible outfit, get off # Wait now # 0ff # They will all want money # 0ff, get off # Back if # 0ff # We don't # Get # Give them some sort of show # 0ff # 0h, well, come down from there then # They've took the stairs away # Could be here for months # Now don't try any stunts # Don't worry, mate # I was a London fireman once # Please don't muck about (Woman) # Somebody pinched my skirt # That pole is only there to keep the tower up (Woman) # They pinched my flaming skirt # Dulcie, get off, they've not paid for this # 0h, cover up your knickers, do # Who's that playing my part then? # It's that damn fool # Perhaps you'd better let me have the trousers # I banged my knee # Kindly get off # My lady, the stage # I'm staying where I am # 0h, no you're not # I love you, dear # I'm standing here with nothing round my ankles # 0h, come along with us # You're nothing but a pair of rotten poofters # You'll be all right with us # How dare you? # My true hero! # I love you, Arthur Cox # Get your hands off me # You are too late # They are in love # Get your hands off me! # And so # Farewell! # Get your hands off me! # (Applause) (Crashing) Well, that's all for this week.
0n the show next week, we'll have the oldest bagpiper in Scotland, Mr Jock McDougal, who in World War 0ne played so well in the battle that the enemy used to shout out requests.
But one last item of news.
We've just heard that in California today at the Miss World preliminary contest, an electrician fell 60 feet and landed on Miss France and Miss Sweden.
His condition is described as extremely comfortable.
That's all we've got time for, so it's good night from me.
- And it's good night from him.
Good night.
- (Applause)