Goon Show Scripts

Posted in Scripts on January, 19 2004 8:51 PM

The greenslade story


Greenslade: This is the BBC Home Service.
Fx: Door opens with wind gust? Wild applause
Greenslade: Encore? Certainly. [Clears throat] This is the BBC Home Service.
Fx: Wild applause
Seagoon: Hear that applause, dear listener? It was not for Danny Kaye, nor for Fred Lane. No. It was all for a common or garden BBC announcer, Wallace Greenslade. How did he come by this rapturous applause? It is with heavy heart and light kidneys that we tell you
Greenslade: The Greenslade Story or...
Sellers: Winds Light to Variable
Fx:Mystery Music
Snagge: My name is Snagge, John Snagge [two piano notes]. Thank you. It was June, 19-quifty-qua that the lad, Wallace Greenslade, first came to the BBC seeking refuge from hard work.
Fx: Typewriter (i.e., reception office setting)
Greenslade: Good morning, Miss, I'm Mr. W. Greenslade.
Receptionist: Oh, yes, you've come for the vacant post of announcer.
Greenslade: Yes, I have.
Receptionist: Do take a seat with the other applicants.
Greenslade: Thank you. I sat down next to a man wearing a brass deerstalker, white cricket boots, and a shredded cardboard wig.
Eccles: Ha-low!
Greenslade: Good morning.
Eccles: Winds light to variable.
Greenslade: Pardon?
Eccles: I said, "Winds light to variable."
Greenslade: Oh, really.
Eccles: Yeah. Winds light to variable. I'm practicing, you know.
Greenslade: Don't tell me you're applying for the post of announcer?
Eccles: Oh, yeah! And I'll get it, too, you'll see! I'm wearing a Cambridge tie!
Greenslade: You? You were at Cambridge?
Eccles: Yeah!
Greenslade: What were you doing there?
Eccles: Buying a tie.
Receptionist: Mr. Liddell will see you now, Mr Eccles.
Eccles: Fine, fine, my good woman. This is it 2,000, £2,000 a year and a pension...
Sellers: Get out, you idiot!
Eccles: Wait a minute, wait a minute! You ain't even heard me speak yet!
Sellers: We'll write to you.
Eccles: Well, that's no good, I can't read. Hey! Did you see that? He threw me out! Threw me out, the famous Eccles! He got no respect for the dead, that man! You can all laugh, but he never even let me say "winds light to variant." I'm going to tell my electrocution teacher about that...
Receptionist: Will you come in now, Mr Greenslade?
Greenslade: Thank you, madam. I was lead into the presence of a BBC official. I took off my shoes and knelt down.
Fx: Gong sound.
Pompous BBC Official: Now, Mr Greensleeve, can I... can I hear you say something?
Greenslade: Certainly. Ahhmmm... "Winds light to variable."
Pompous BBC Official: By Jove, you couldn't have picked a more... appropriate phrase.
Greenslade: Oh, it was nothing.
Pompous BBC Official: Come, come! Say it again. Say it again... with a smile as it were.
Greenslade: Of course. [clears throat] "Winds light to variable."
Pompous BBC Official: Delicious! Quite enchanting! Now, say it as though it were a national catastrophe.
Greenslade: "Ohhhh! Winds light to variable! Ohhhhhh!"
Pompous BBC Official: [weepy] Very touching! Yes quite touching. I... I think you have it, Mr Greenslade, you can start work at once.
Greenslade: Gad! Me, a BBC announcer!
Fx: Victory music link
Seagoon: Dear listeners, how could my private school for announcers, with it's 56,000 trainees, succeed if the BBC kept turning down my ace pupils like Eccles?
Omnes: We want bread, we want...
Seagoon: [screaming inaudibly at the lads] Please, gentlemen, keep up your spirits, lads, I mean, say after me, "Winds light to variable."
Omnes: "Winds light to variable."
Seagoon: There you are, lads, good! Doesn't that... make you feel better?
Omnes: [negative answers, particularly from the Major Bloodnok]
Seagoon: Whatwhatwhawhawhawhat's that? Bloodnok, please...
Bloodnok: Listen, listen, Neddy...
Seagoon: Mr. Bloodnok, please, I mean...
Bloodnok: Never mind these naughty winds light to variable! What about some earthquakes in East Acton?
Seagoon: What about earthquakes in East Acton?
Bloodnok: What about...? I've been training at this school for six years to say "earthquakes in East Acton."
Seagoon: So what?
Bloodnok: Well, they never had one!
Seagoon: Ah, ah, yes! But at the slightest tremor, I'll write to the BBC!
Bloodnok: Oh...
Seagoon: I will indeed! Keep up your morale, man! Say after me "earthquakes in East Acton."
Bloodnok: "earthquakes in East Acton."
Seagoon: There you are, how about that eh?
Bloodnok: I, I, I feel better already.
Seagoon: Of course you do!
Bloodnok: Yes...
Seagoon: Now here's a model of Sir Ian Jacob. Let's stick pins in it!
Bloodnok: Right...
Fx: telephone rings
Ellington: Ohhh man! Don't you dare do that again!
Fx: Hangs up phone
Seagoon: Thank you Fred Jacobs. Now...
Seagoon: It's no good, dear listener. I can't deceive my pupils as to the seriousness of the situation. While Greenslade grew in popularity, I decided to strike!
Fx: planning to strike music
Moriarty: [Ominous Laughing] Yess
Grytpype: So, Neddy, you want us to kidnap the entire BBC announcing staff?
Seagoon: Yesyesyesyesyesyes! I've got to create vacancies for my own men. You'll be well paid.
Moriarty: Paid? Money? Money? How much? How much?
Seagoon: For every announcer removed I'll pay one simulation lead florin. And you can have that in writing.
Grytpype: We'd rather have it in cash, if you don't mind.
Seagoon: Very well [laughs], here's a photograph of a pound.
Grytpype: Thank you. Moriarty, see if this is a forgery.
Moriarty: [ambles away, mumbling]
Seagoon: Now, gentlemen, when do you start work?
Grytpype: When? Switch on the talking wireless.
Fx: click
Announcer: Here is the nyn aclock noise. The president of Scrampsonpage drudnosit black... [grabbed by the throat]
Grytpype: You see, Neddy, we've started already! Now, excuse me while...
Fx: Whooosh!
Moriarty: [rushes up] Don't switch off, listen to this.
Sellers: We must apologize for the break in the news. [begins to break up] In the meantime, here is a record...
Eccles: [approaching] Hello, folks! Winds light to variable. Further outlook: Fine, fine, fine.
Seagoon: Wonderful!- Or, if your French, vunderbar! - At last, Mr Eccles was being heard on the radio. One by one, the BBC announcers were kidnapped. Or, if they're over 21, adultnapped! Get it? [laughs] Adultnapped! [sighs] Max Geldray, pull up a bollard

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Max Geldray and Orchestra - 'One, Two Button Your Shoe' [* BBC lists this title, but it is incorrect]

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Seagoon: I still maintain it's all wrong, I can understand it at all, I, I say...
Grytpype: Relax, Neddy, relax, your record's selling well, you've nothing to worry about...
Seagoon: So when Relax, you say. My heavens, it's three months since you promised to kidnap Greenslade, but still no result!
Moriarty: Oeoww! I tell you, don't worry, Neddy! At last we've found a chink in his armour
Bloodnok: These Chinese get everywhere!
Grytpype: Greenslade has a huge public. They want to see him in the flesh.
Seagoon: What? All of it?
Grytpype: Yes.
Seagoon: He's a danger to shipping!
Grytpype: Neddy, we are going to offer him a contract to appear on the stage.
Seagoon: Gad, yes! If he leaves the BBC, the way will be clear for Mr. Eccles! An excellent plan! We'll do it!
Greenslade: And do it they did. But the BBC didn't give me up without a fight. In fact, they even sent John Snagge round to my private abode.
Fx: Knock on door, door opens
Butler: Thou knocked oh shivering white infidel? Cor blimey!
Greenslade: Yes Is, ah, Wallace in?
Butler: "Wallace"? Does thou mean The Great Greenslade? He whose voice drips like honey for the ears of the waiting world? He of the velvet petal tongue?
Snagge: Yes, that's Walt.
Butler: Whom shall I say craves audience?
Snagge: Tell him it's John Snagge--No, no, no, no, wait. Tell him... it's Snaggers.
Snagge: He who's voice once-yearly rings out from the Thames motor launch, that usually fails. He who's voice tells the masses of a watery combat twixt men in two slender willow slim craft, that race on the bosom of our river and race past Mortlake Brewery towards their Olympic gold.
Butler: Oh, blimey, man, follow me.
Snagge: Dear listeners, I was lead across a marble courtyard of solid wood and here and there silver fountains gushed claret. And there, there, lying in a silken hammock suspended between two former television toppers... was Wallace Greenslade.
Greenslade: Ah John, dear John! You couldn't have arrived at a better moment. I was just about to unveil a small, bronze statue of myself.
Snagge: Now look here, Wallace. There's a rumour going around the Corporation that you're thinking of leaving.
Greenslade: Well, John, I have been getting offers...
Snagge: But Wallace, you're not going to leave us, remember, you're British... Now look, Wallace...
Greenslade:Dear John. What can I say?
Snagge:What's the matter Wallace? Aren't you happy with us. Isn't £3.10s a week enough?
Greenslade: Not quite John.
Snagge:But man alive! You've a free copy of the Radio Times every week.
Greenslade: Yes, there is that...
Snagge:Well... Now look Wallace.
Greenslade: What, John?
Snagge: I've been given the authority to offer you £4 a week and you can read the 9 o'clock news at half past if you want to and take your own time about it...
Seagoon: Not so fast, Mr. John "Boatrace" Snagge!
Snagge: That voice came out of a little ball of fat that sprang from behind a piano stool.
Seagoon: My name is Neddy Seagoon!
Snagge: What a memory you have.
Seagoon: Not so fast!
Snagge: I said it as slowly as possible.
Seagoon: So! You're the famous John Snagge, ey?
Seagoon: Known as the male Sabrina of Portland Place
Snagge: Now steady Seagoon, or I'll ban your record on Housewife's Choice
Seagoon: Huh-hum! [titters] [starts to sing] Be my lov... Never mind, I still have my shaving term
Grytpype: [rushes in] Mr. Snagge, I fear you have arrived too late to save Mr Greenslade. He has already signed a theatrical contract at £5 a week.
Snagge: Five pounds? There isn't that much!
Grytpype: Yes, there is, and here it is in used stamps.
Snagge: Alas! I cannot offer him more. So this, then, is the end of the once-great BBC announcing staff.
Orchestra: A cornet plays the "Last Post"
Snagge: Where are they now? That noble band, Andrew Timothy - missing. Alvar Liddell - went down with his lift. Richard Dimbleby - Overweight. And finally, Ronald Fletcher - gone to the dogs.
Seagoon: Stop! Stop! [crying] You're breaking my heart.
Seagoon: I can help you! I have a man here to take their place. Speak, lad, speak!
Eccles: Winds light to variable. Wait a minute, Mr. Nagg, you're... you're very lucky to get me!
Snagge: I have no choice. Put him in a sack.
Seagoon: So saying, Mr Snagge took the famous Eccles off on his tricycle. Next day, we took Greenslade off on his triumphal stage tour. Everywhere he went, success! Then the first opening night at the London Palladium. What a night that was! What a night! His merest whim was catered for.
Greenslade: Neddy, bring me a merest whim.
Seagoon: At once! At once, Wallace! In cellophane! Gad, there's a packed house out there waiting for you.
Greenslade: How they love me!
Fx: Knock on door
Greenslade: Neddy? Say "come in" for me.
Seagoon: Of course, Wall, of course. Come in! Who is it?
Lou: [yiddish] It's Lou. I've come to say good evening.
Seagoon: Your agent! Come in!
Fx: enters
Lou: Oh my lovely little Wallace! Oh, you're gonna kill'em tonight, you're a lovely boy! Ooh, you're lovely, make a lot of lovely money for me, make a fortune!
Seagoon: I'm his manager, you understand...
Lou: Out the way, Secombe, you're finished, all that shaving and singing, it's all finished
Seagoon: Whatwhatwhawhawhat?
Lou: On with the moxers, It's all washed up. Now then here, Wallace. Wallace, Wallace, Wallace, Val Parnell's outside tonight so do your best, I'll see you get a nice, big bonus. Goodbye, my lovely boy, that gelt he's making for me... [exits]
Seagoon: You'd never think that man's father's a duke, would you?
Greenslade: No.
Seagoon: Well, don't, cuz he wasn't [laughs]
Fx: Knock on door
Seagoon: Who's there?
Henry Crun: We are, mnk
Minnie Bannister: Autograph hunters, buddy
Seagoon: What do you want, Buddy?
Henry Crun: An autograph.
Minnie Bannister: Autograph.
Henry Crun: Autogram.
Minnie Bannister: A modern-style autograph, buddy. Dim-bund-giddle-oh! We want you're autograph, buddy.
Seagoon: I'm very sorry, Mr Greenslade left his autograph at home.
Minnie Bannister: Oh...
Seagoon: Stop that knocking-type knocking!
Henry Crun: Who are you to stop us doing knocking-type knocking?
Seagoon: I'm Neddy Seagoon-type Neddy Seagoon.
Henry Crun: Never heard of you-type, sir. Go away, sir.
Seagoon: Go away! Never heard... I, I, I won't stand for this! Go away? Never heard of me? Open this door at once, come on, who's there?
Henry Crun: Open the door!
Seagoon: I can't. Some fool's taken the bolt off. Can you open it from your side?
Minnie Bannister: No, no, no... Don't come in, I'm in the bath.
Seagoon: What are you doing in the bath?
Minnie Bannister: I'm not doing anything in the bath!
Seagoon: Miss Bannister, explain what Mr Henry Crum is doing in your bathroom, you sinful woman!
Minnie Bannister: He's washing a savage tiger.
Seagoon: A tiger? A sinful savage tiger? I've had enough of this!
Fx: Breaks in.
Throat: [Roars]
Seagoon: [Screams]
Greenslade: Obviously time for Mr Ray Ellington.

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Ray Ellington and his Quartet - 'Jingle Bells'

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Greenslade: Ray Ellington is now appearing at the Battersea Dog's Home
Greenslade: The Wallace Greenslade Story, Part 3. As this scene opens, I am found in the star dressing room at the Palladium with my with my manager. I have five minutes to finish my Black Russian cigarette before I'm off.
Fx: Door opens
Lou: Oh, my life! Ruined, my business, my wife and children, my wail, ruined! Ohhhh!
Seagoon: Something wrong with you?
Lou: Something wrong he says? The audience, they've gone, the momsers, 5 to 9, they got up and left!
Seagoon: 5 to 9? What? Wait! I've got a hunch!
Grytpype: It suits you.
Seagoon: Switch on the electric-type wireless.
Eccles: Ha-lo, folks! Here's the old weather then. The old winds light to variable, going to have the sun in the day and gonna get dark at night [inaudible, singing]
Seagoon: So, that's where the audience are, back home listening to Eccles. He's the new idol. Greenslade? I fear he's stolen your public.
Greenslade: Oh, I feel faint. Pour some brandy down my throat.
Seagoon: Gad, Grytpype, you're got to kidnap Eccles or Greenslade is finished!
Grytpype: Right. Moriarty? Have you got a black jack?
Moriarty: No, mine's red.
Grytpype: Never mind, Eccles is colorblind anyway. Let's go!
Moriarty: Get up, there!
Fx: They gallop away; scene-change music
Seagoon: Next morning, we read the terrible news.
Greenslade: Listen, Ace BBC announcer Eccles, signed by Grytpype Thynne for stage tour.
Seagoon: The swine single crossed us!
Greenslade: You mean, "double".
Seagoon: No, this is the first time.
Greenslade: This means... ruin? No more... luxury? I'll have to stop eating in the canteen? Give up my subscription to The Nursing Mother?
Seagoon: And so we became vagrants.
Orchestra: Hearts and Flower
Seagoon: We wandered the streets. A bitter wind blew up from the east and I cursed the fact I was wearing a kilt! One Christmas we were trying to make a living by diving for coins in the gutter from passing ships, when we found ourselves outside the London Palladium.
Fx: Street scene, coin drops in cup
Seagoon: Thank you...
Seagoon: and Greenslade: [singing] Comrades, comrades, ever since we were boys...
Fx: coin drops in cup
Seagoon: Thank you, ladie.
Throat: A pleasure.
Seagoon: and Greenslade: [singing] ...each other's...
Greenslade: Here comes a rich customer.
Seagoon: A hansom cab drew up and out stepped a ugly passenger.
Eccles: Stand aside, my good man, my public awaits for me.
Seagoon: Spare a copper for the guy?
Eccles: What guy?
Seagoon: This guy here, he's starving.
Eccles: You see my secretary, my good man, I've got... [fades]
Seagoon: He brushed me aside with his brush. The northwind blew, flakes of white settled on my shoulder. To cap it all, I've got dandruff!
Seagoon: and Greenslade: [singing] Comrades - gladly - Comrades - sadly - ever since we were boys
Fx: Coin-type sound dropping into cup
Seagoon: Oh, thank you, kind sir.
Snagge: It's nothing. I've plenty more buttons.
Snagge: Aren't you Jewell & Wallace, or Morecambe & Wise?
Seagoon: No. It's Seagoon & Greenslade.
Snagge: Oh, horrors, how the mighty have fallen!
Seagoon: You, too?
Snagge: Here, here's a photograph of a bowl of soup.
Seagoon: and Greenslade: Thank you.
Snagge: And when you've finished it, come and see me at the BBC. In six weeks time.
Greenslade: And so, six weeks went by.
Seagoon: Good heavens, Wal, six weeks have gone by!
Greenslade: At the same time, inside the London Palladium, six weeks had also passed at the same speed.
Eccles: Winds light to variable, that's what I'll say to them...
Fx: knock on door
Eccles: Oh, who is it?
Lou: It's Lou, I've come to say good evening to you.
Eccles: Come in, my good fellow.
Lou: Oh, Eccles, Schmeccles, my lovely boy! You're gonna make a lot of money for me! We sold every seat in the place!
Eccles: What are they gonna sit on?
Lou: [laughs] What a sense of humour he's got, he's funny! Witty, yes. Here, do your best, my little Eccles--Oh, think of the gelt [exits]
Eccles: What a nice fellow... That's a nice... I like that fellow! Oh, hello, I didn't see you standing there...
Grytpype: Eccles, don't forget now, you do well tonight and we'll give you a five-shilling rise.
Eccles: Oh! That will bring my money up to 6 shillings a month! I'm rich! I'm rich! Oh, it's good to be alive!
Grytpype: Yes, yes, steady, lad, steady, don't let it go to your head.
Fx: Door opens
Moriarty: Grytpype! Here's his paycheck, just arrived.
Grytpype: What? Let's see. £2,000. Right, Moriarty, take 6 shillings out and give it to our Charlie.
Eccles: I heard that. Don't you dare give that six bob to Charlie, that's my money!
Fx: Door opens
Lou: Oh, my life, it's happened again!
Eccles: What?
Lou: The audience got up and gone home, someone's took em away!
Eccles: I'm going home then.
Grytpype: No, no, no, no, wait, wait. Switch on the radio.
Fx: Click. Big Ben chimes.
Bluebottle: This is the BBC Home Service. And here is Bluebottle with the news!
Eccles: You swine, Bluebottle! You...
Orchestra: [end music]
Greenslade: And that was the Goon Show, a BBC recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe, Spike Milligan and John Snagge, with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray. The Orchestra was conducted by Wally Stott, script by Spike Milligan, announcer Wallace Greenslade, the program produced by Peter Eton.
Orchestra: [Outro]
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Histories of Pliny the Elder
by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens

Greenslade: This is the BBC Light Program.
Secombe: Whop!
Milligan: Oh, no!
Greenslade: History for schools, question 1: How do you spell C-A-T? Secombe: Cat! Well done!
Greenslade: Question 2: Name two English queens called Elizabeth.
Secombe: Jim.
Greenslade: Question 3: What is the Goon Show's first name and give an example of?
Secombe: That's a trick question, Wallace! So here is a trick answer entitled, 'The Histories of Pliny the Elder'!
Orchestra, Grams: Imperial Roman music bird songs (i.e., wilderness)
Greenslade: And so in the year Ex-El-one-one-one B.C., Julius Caesar set foot on the British shore and was greeted by the natives.
Eccles: Hello!
Caesar: Vini, vidi, vici.
Eccles: Eh?
Caesar: I came, I saw, I conquered!
Eccles: Oh! Fine, fine, well, I'm just going in for a dip, give the old kippers a steam. HaHa!
Caesar: Brutus Moriaritus, seize that Briton and prepare him for a life of slavery.
Moriaritus: Ave sixundu[or six and two?], Caesar. Cah Vey! Here comes another Charlie Brittanicus!
Seagoon: [singing] When you're tramp, tramp, tramping along the high road, when you [inaudible] Hello, folks! Who cares?
Caesar: Gad, he's up early.
Moriaritus: He must be one of the early Britons.
Caesar: Quiet, you fuman centurion. Tell the men to pull the galley ashore quickly.
Moriaritus: Ah, righto, straight away!
Caesar: Ah, good morning!
Seagoon: Howdo, I see your boat's all loaded up [laughs]. Going round the light house?
Moriaritus: You savage English fool! This is the imperial Julius Caesar! We are Romans! Prepare yourself for combatus!
Seagoon: Righto, righto Jack, righto.... I'll go and get our lads together, only being Sunday they'll be in the pubs, you know?
Orchestra: Bloodnok theme.
Bloodnok: Ohhh! So the Romans want to take the field against us, do they?
Seagoon: That's right, Britanicus. They're very keen to have a duel with us you know. And, you never know [laughs], we might win!
Bloodnok: Win? No, we mustn't! We don't want to spoil our record!
Seagoon: Oh... Well, ah, what'll I tell'em, then?
Bloodnok: Well, tell them to put their goal on the edge of the cliffs, that will give their goalie a bit of a rough time, won't it?
Bloodnok and Seagoon: [Laugh together]
Seagoon: You don't care, do you? Right, oh, kick off 2:30 then.
Bloodnok: Splendid, splendid, yes, yes....
Orchestra: Roman epic type music
Greenslade: And so the Britons, in their blue woad, took the field before the might of the Roman Army.
Grams: Chorus [Land of the Free]
Caesar: Brutus Moriaritus, here, what kind of army is this that takes the field in blue jerseys with a ball at their feet?
Moriaritus: Must be some kind of trickus. Look! They're forming up.
Fx: Whistle.
Caesar: That must be their signal to attack.
Moriaritus: Forward, men, advantus!
Fx: Battle Charge sounds on trumpet, Battle sounds
Bloodnok: Ahh! I say there Eccles?: Here, here...
Bloodnok: They're a rough lot, these Romans!
Fx: Whistle.
Bloodnok: Ahhh!
Moriaritus: What? What's this, why have you stopped for?
Seagoon: Rough play, that's what we've stopped for, I'll tell 'ee. By 'eck, every time I come up the wing your outside right swipes at me with a dirty big sword!
Caesar: I say, what is all this hold up about?
Seagoon: Well, rough play, that's what..
Eccles: Yeah, yeah
Seagoon: Well, I mean, and then, and then, Jack, we can't hold with all this javelin practice when the ball's in play! And another thing, you're only allowed eleven men on the field. I've counted 693 of yours so far!
Caesar: All right, I'll send one off.
Seagoon: Righto, carry on.
Fx: Battle sounds resume
Greenslade: The result, Romans: 900, England: 3. War stopped play.
Fx: Marching, whistling Lily Marlene.
Narrator: Like a mighty octopus, the legions of Rome spread across England. For ten years Caesar ruled with an iron hand. Then with a wooden foot, finally with a piece of string. How much of this could Britain take?
Orchestra: Lute music.
Minstrel: Oh, Caesar! I come to sing melodies divine to you!
Caesar: Sing on, proud minstrel.
Minstrel: Thank you. [sings] Oh, Caesar these are noble men, these England green, gentlemen every inch of him, from his feet to his head of the ground...
Caesar: Moriaritus? This man is a bit of a crawler... Why does he follow such a profession, Moriaritus?
Moriaritus: For money, Caesar, he tells me he wants to die rich.
Caesar: And so he shall. Give him this sack of gold and then strangle him.
Moriaritus: Yes, Caesar.
Fx: Strangling sounds.
Moriaritus: I see that ten years in Britain have not changed your imperial Roman outlook, Caesar.
Caesar: True, Moriaritus, always a Roman eye.
Moriaritus: Will you take wine?
Caesar: No, thanks I think I'll take a half of mild and a packet of crisps.
Fx: Crowd sounds
Greenslade: Caesar, Caesar.
Caesar: Oh, it's Stomachus Grossus!
Greenslade: Caesar, there is an angry rabble outside, we have their leader captive.
Caesar: Is he bound?
Greenslade: Of his health I know not, sir.
Caesar: Bring him hither, sir...
Bloodnok: Ohh! Take your hands off me! You want to catch something? Ahh! So you're Julius Caesar, ehh?
Moriaritus: Caesar is all things to all men.
Bloodnok: Oh, it must be hell in there! Senetus, Senetus. Look here, Mr. Caesar, we've just discovered why you're been here ten years, you've conquered us.
Moriaritus: Eh?
Bloodnok: Well, get out, I mean, get out or we shall ban midweek matches and midweek cigarettes as well!
Greenslade: Beware, Brittanicus Bloodnokus, the gods are angry.
Bloodnok: I know, I've just been hit with a rotten tomato. Oh, the birds, the birds...
Moriaritus: Why don't you stop him, Julius Caesar?
Sellers: How can I when I'm playing the part of Bloodnok?
Moriaritus: Now listen... Now listenus. For this rebellion, Bloodnokus, you will be thrown to the wolves!
Bloodnok: Now that team, no, I'm a London man, please, I...
Greenslade: Good Brittanicus, you have one alternative.
Bloodnok: What?
Greenslade: You'll be freed providing you give us four good men for the Coliseum games in Rome.
Bloodnok: Yes! I've got some likely English charlies who would suit you perfectly! They were very successful at the Scottish games.
Moriaritus: Did they do well?
Bloodnok: Very well. They managed to get away with their lives, you know, it's...
Moriaritus: Very well. Deliver those men to Caesar's royal barge at XXI and XXI and a half tomorrow.
Bloodnok: I'll do that, and here is the first one, Maxelsus Geldray
Moriaritus: I hope he does better than...

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Max Geldray 'Come On Get Happy' song

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Orchestra, Grams: Seagoing music; boat-bound voices in background; ship sounds
Greenslade: And so, some months later, a Roman slave galley drew nigh to Ostia.
Slave Driver: In out... in, out...
Eccles: Make up your mind...
Bluebottle: Have you ever rowed a gallery before, Ecclus?
Eccles: Is that what we're doing?
Bluebottle: Yes.
Eccles: No, I've never done this before.
Slave Driver: Faster, you dogs!
Bluebottle: He wants us dogs to go faster.
Slave Driver: Silence, you scum!
Eccles: He wants us scum to go silent...
Slave Driver: Or do you want a kiss of the lash?
Bluebottle: No, thanks, I just had some cocoa.
Eccles: Oh, look, they're bringing a new slave from the reserve.
Bluebottle: Goody!
Seagoon: Let me go, you devil, how dare you? Take your hands off me! Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. How dare you chain me to this oar? I shall write to the Times about this! In print!
Flowerdew:: Shut up, you! It was perfectly quiet until you came along! You're not the only man chained to the oars, you know...
Seagoon: [shouting] Now listen to me, all of you!
Flowerdew: All of me is listening to you.
Seagoon: I am the Welsh Chieftan Caracticus Seagoon! [tries again] Caracticus. I for one will never surrender to the might of Rome! I'll fight them up hill and down and Mrs Dale.
Eccles: Wait a minute, how did they take you prisoner then?
Seagoon: I was in the bath. The one day a year they could catch me with my socks off.
Eccles: Must have been hell in there...
Bluebottle: What are you going to do then, Caracticus? How can we file through these chains?
Seagoon: How? How?
Bluebottle: Yes.
Seagoon: This evening I received a cake from a friend, and guess what's inside?
Bluebottle: You mean there's...
Seagoon: Yes! Raisins!
Slave Driver: Stop that talking in the back there!
Bluebottle: It wasn't me, sir! It was Harold Prock!
Seagoon: I don't think they want to know that.
Fx: Whip cracking!
Bluebottle: Waahey! You flicked my knee!
Grams: Sea-going sounds
Sailor: ...from the BBC out of here...
Greenslade: That night, the galley docked at Ostia and the slaves were put up for auction.
Auctioneer: [Clears throat] All right, come on now, what am I bid for these three British-type slaves? Ecclus, a lovely piece of property, believed to be descended from his father. No bids? Come on, anybody now.
Seagoon: Three dinars!
Auctioneer: You fool you're up for sale as well!
Seagoon: Oh!
Auctioneer: There you are, a chap with initiative. All right then, what about this last one? A pair of genuine English knees with a hat attached called Bluebottlus. Can tie knots, rub two sticks together, and kill his grandmother.
Promoter: I'll bid 10,000 dinars the three.
Auctioneer: Sold!
Promoter: This way lads, I've seen 'im, I've seen 'im!
Seagoon: I say, this is dashed decent of you to buy us. Who are you?
Promoter: Me? I do all the bookings for the Coliseum. I've seen 'em, I've seen 'em, I've seen 'em.
Seagoon: So you've seen them, eh? The Coliseum? Could you get us a couple of tickets?
Promoter: You won't need any.
Seagoon: Oh, what's on?
Promoter: You are.
Seagoon: Am I?
Promoter: Yeah, tonight, tonight.
Seagoon: Better get the old hobson's choice going then hadn't I? [Sings: We'll keep a welcome in...] - I've done the Palladium, you know?
Promoter: You've got a lovely voice for...
Seagoon: [...in the hillsides, mee mee mee, oowa oowa oowa ooooooh]
Promoter: Lovely, lovely! Lovely! Now try shouting 'help'.
Seagoon: [clears throat] HEEEEELLLLPPPP!
Promoter: Marvelous! That'll come in very useful.
Orchestra: New act music
Promoter: Right, now, you wait in there, boys, I'll tell you when it's your turn to go on, it'll be all right...
Fx: closes door behind him
Seagoon: I say, what a wonderful agent that fellow is! My first night in Rome and I've got a booking already! [laughs] Well, now, let's have a look at the program!
Eccles: Oh! It's a good program.
Seagoon: Yes.
Bluebottle: What is the top of the bill?
Seagoon: Oh, it's got a lovely opening act, let me see now, 'Captive East Finchley boy scout will fight four starving lions.'
Bluebottle: Oh... I do not like this lion game...
Voice: All right, baby.
Bluebottle: Let me out of here...
Fx: Rattles door
Seagoon: You coward, Bluebottle! Face it like a man!
Bluebottle: Yes, well, look at the encore there: 'Caracticus Seagoon will be strangled by a gorilla...'
Seagoon: Gulp!, AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHH! Let me out! You can't do this to me, I'm a British subject, I shall write to the Times about this! Help! Let me out! HEEELLLPPP!
Flowerdew: Oh, shut up, it was perfectly quiet until you came along!
Seagoon: It's all right for you, you're a sailor and sailors don't care...
Flowerdew: [Girly scream]
Seagoon: Now, don't panic everybody! I've got a plan. We'll overpower the guards.
Flowerdew: Yes!
Eccles: Right, I'll take my boots off.
Seagoon: I don't think they want to know that...
Greenslade: [inaudible at stage rear]
Seagoon: Good [laughs] Now, we'll get the keys and make our way down to the Tiber.
Eccles: What's the Tiber?
Seagoon: Half past niner.
Bloodnok: That's what we want?
Seagoon: I don't wish to know that!
Cast: Ad libs and corpsing, with 'shhhhings', sounds like they lost it at this point!
Seagoon:I say look here!
Sellers: I say, I say.
Seagoon: Kindly leave this prison.
Sellers: Hello, boys and girls.
Seagoon: Shhh! Here comes the guard now!
Fx: Door is unlocked, opens
Eccles: Take that!
Fx: Womp
Guard: Ohh!
Seagoon: Right! Run for it!
Fx: Running
Greenslade: Dear listeners, I thought you might like to know that the groan of pain you heard just now was not done by a Roman soldier, but by me, and I thought I did it jolly well! I'm sure you all feel the better for knowing that! Thank you. And now, Ray Ellingbaum.

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Ray Ellington 'You made me love you' ...segues into... 'This can't be love'

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Orchestra: Roman music
Greenslade: Through the catacombs our heroes managed to reach the great water pipe that runs under the Via Apia, known, of course, in the Army as the famous Ap-ya-Pipe.
Seagoon: All right, lads, I think we are safe now.
Eccles: Oh, oh, wait a minute, look, there's a manhole cover right above us.
Seagoon: Shine the beam of this candle on it.
Eccles: Right.
Seagoon: I'll push it off. Eccles? Stand on my shoulders and pull me up.
Eccles: Okay [straining] I'd like to see'em do this on television.
All: Straining sounds from all
Bluebottle: Can I put the mangehole cover back on now? Otherwise, if it rains, the hole will get wet.
Seagoon: No, leave it open, we don't want to lose the place, shhh! Behind those bushes! Someone's coming! Quick!
Fx: Running, splash
Little Jim: He's fallen in the water.
Seagoon: Little Jim! Little Jim! Little Jim!
Bluebottle: Little Jim!
Seagoon: Little Jim! Little Jim!
Little Jim: [babbles]
Seagoon: Thank you again!
Little Jim: Yes.
Hannibal (Willium): Oh, oh help me, oh!
Seagoon: Grab my hand and foot, ear, nose and teeth - Hup!
Hannibal (Willium): Oh, I didn't see that hole, you know? You don't see'em on the corners, you know?
Seagoon: Are you a Roman?
Hannibal (Willium): No, mate, in the gloaming, I... My name's Hannibal. You see any elephants running down the road?
Seagoon: Elephants? You must be General Hannibal of Carthage!
Hannibal (Willium): No, mate, I'm William Hannibal. I looks after the elephants at the Coliseum there. I'm a Battersea slave, mate, there.
Seagoon: How did you get captured?
Hannibal (Willium): Oh, you're a lovely little boy.
Little Jim: Get away from me, man.
Hannibal (Willium): Well, it were my Saturday off, you see, and I was taking the dog for a pool and this Roman fellow come up and said 'Take you 'at off!' see? Like that, and I does, and he says, 'that's a nasty lump on your bonse,' and I said, 'where?' and he said, 'there' and pointed it out with a dirty great club. Ohh, mate, oh! When I come to, I feel me nut and he was right! There was a dirty big lump on it, but it was too late by then, you see, I was carrying buckets for the elephants at the Coliseum.
Seagoon: But we are English-type slaves, too, would you care to join us?
Hannibal (Willium): Why? Are you coming apart?
Seagoon: What's the year?
Hannibal (Willium): 49 BC
Seagoon: That proves how old that gag is! That proves how old that gag is.
Milligan: Yeah
Seagoon: That proves how old that gag is.
Milligan: Blows raspberry!
Milligan: [inaudible] white paper now.
Seagoon: [laughing, sighs]
Eccles: That proves how old you are, too, ha-ha-ha.
Fx: Splash
Little Jim: He's fallen in the water ducky.
Seagoon: Now you can put the lid on.
Hannibal (Willium): I tell you what, mate, a lot of our lads joined... joined an escaped gladiola called, um, Sprarticus from Prodigal. He comes only from Prodigal, Sparticus, you know?
Seagoon: Where is he?
Hannibal (Willium): He's hiding in the old top of in vesi nubrius
Seagoon: Let's to him!
Fx: New act music
Voices: [inaudible]
Guard: Halt, halt! Who goes there? Who, who goes there?
Seagoon: [shouting] Escaped English slaves!
Guard: Advance and be recognized! Recogniiiized!
Seagoon: I am Caracticus Seagoon. I come from Wales.
Guard: I can see you don't come from sardines, Jim.
Milligan: [through laughter] Lovely! Thank you.
Greenslade: Hoo-ray! Hoo-ray!
Guard: I'll take you to Sparticus the Gladiola. Follow me.
Fx: walking, knocking on door.
Guard: I'll knock.
Bloodnok: Ohhh! Oh, just a minute, oh! Don't come in, please! I'm just changing my knees. Ohh! Quite right.
Fx: Door opens
Bloodnok: Now - AhhOhh! Ohh! Ohh!
Seagoon: Brittanicus Bloodnokus! How did you get to Italy?
Bloodnok: Ask the writers, I've no idea.
Guard: He has no ideeeah.
Bloodnok: Yes.
Seagoon: You are Sparticus?
Bloodnok: Yesus, I was forced to change me name, you see? I fell out with Caesar.
Seagoon: You, you fell out with Caesar?
Bloodnok: Yesus!
Seagoon: How did that happenus?
Bloodnok: We were in a chariot and we hit a bump in the road, it was... Ohhh!
Eccles: It was me!
Seagoon: Come now
Bloodnok: It went 'ohhh!'
Seagoon: Come now! I want the trith, and nothing but the troth!
Bloodnok: Well, the trith is - how can I put it? - You know that saying 'Caesar's wife is above suspicion'?
Seagoon: Yes?
Bloodnok: Well, I put an end to all that rubbish! Oh! Oh, me little beauty, oh!
Seagoon: Are we safe here?
Guard: Are we safe?
Bloodnok: My dear lad, we are actually inside the crater of an extinct volcano.
Seagoon: Thank heaven! He he he Safe at last! Ha Ha
Fx: Rumbling sound
Seagoon: I say, chaps?What? I say, look, look, look!
Bloodnok: Oh, ohhhh!
Fx: explosions, from volcano, screaming
Greenslade: Next week History for Schools tells the story of The Last Days of Pompei.
Secombe: Well, is that the lot for the old series, eh, Wal?
Greenslade: Yep.
Secombe: Right. Round the back for the old brandy there!
Fx: footsteps
Orchestra: End theme
Greenslade: That was the last of the present series of the Goon Show, a BBC recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan, with the Ray Ellington Quartet, Max Geldray, and the orchestra Larry Stevens, announcer Wallace Greenslade. Bobby Jay has been on the mixing panel, and the special effects were supplied by Ian Cooke and Ron Belshay. The production was by Pat Dixon.
Orchestra: Run out music
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________----Ned's Atomic Dustbin
By Spike Milligan
Broadcast 5th January 1959 (series 9 episode 10)

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Greenslade: This is the BBC Light Programme. To add seasonal cheer to the broadcast I've had written permission to wear a small holly leaf in my button hole.
Seagoon: Whup! There's white top courage for you
Greenslade: What what what what what
Seagoon: Don't you realise Wal boy, that the Druids used the holly leaf for certain unsavoury ritualistic rites.
Greenslade: Oh dear...
Seagoon: Indeed
Greenslade: ...well I'd better hurry and get that word cleared by the BBC censorship department. Gid up there!
Grams: Horses gallop off very fast
Seagoon: There he goes... And in his space we see Peter Sellers...
Sellers: Schizig. If listeners will stand up and place both hands on their partners shoulders, they will actually pick up the sound of the all-powerful BBC censorship department. [gurgle]
Grams: Fanfare
Fx: Knock on door
Secombe: (older than God) Ahhh... mara... ahh comeeee... ahhhh... ahhh ... ahhhhhhh.
Minnie Bannister: He's trying to say 'come in'.
Henry Crun: Male hormones forever! Ahhh... hha (collapses) Ahhhhh... mr...
Fx: Thud of body & bits of body scattering. Ball bearings marbles roll along floor. Hand full of forks. Metallic resonant nuts and bolts falling.
Henry Crun: Oh clear he's disinteregated Min... I'll have to take over his trousers.
Fx: Door opens. Galloping hooves at great speed (coconut shells).
Greenslade: Ahoy...
Minnie Bannister: Ahoy youuuu!
Greenslade: ...I've come to get clearance on a word.
Henry Crun: What is the word, sir?
Greenslade: Well its er um... um. Yes.., 'Holly'!
Henry Crun: What's wrong with it sir?
Greenslade: Well it is believed to have an undertone of eroticism.
Henry Crun: Oh Dear...
Minnie Bannister: Ohhh.
Henry Crun: Could you write, mnk, this word down?
Minnie Bannister: Blindfold yourself Henry, don't look!
Greenslade: Yes...s I could.
Fx: Writing
Grams: Loud startled cluck of chicken...
Henry Crun: (aside) Blast! He can write on chickens. You want us to see if this word is fit to be said?
Greenslade: I fear so.
Henry Crun: Ohh dear, well that puts us in a rather nasty spot doesn't it. We don't like committing ourselves.
Greenslade: Well it's alright, but you're the Censors.
Henry Crun: Ah but we don't like that sort of thing you see. We don't do it.
Secombe: (Yorkshire)We don'y like it at all. Mr Lord Scradds, you're the oldest, what do you think of this word?
Lord Scradds: Ahhhhh.. . ahhhhh, ahh I'll I won't commit myself at this ahhhhhhhhh at this stage... I... I'll... go along, Yes...I...I'll go along...
Henry Crun: Who will you go along with?
Milligan: Ahhhhh, anybody a...
Sellers: (Aussie) I think I'm with you there, I'm with you all the way, I'll go along with that.
Milligan: (Hooray) I ratar mark the omplication the most of the mam arve bwin time waste and non the far the plo Car there at Dawn.
Secombe: Does anybody agree with that?
Sellers: (Aussie) I agree with that.
Greenslade: Look, look, look, look what are you all agreeing about?
Henry Crun: Ha ha ha you devil-you devil.., you devil.. So then it's agreed that we all agree? Now what was the question?
Greenslade: The word 'holly', is it -?
Minnie Bannister: Canteen's open!
Henry Crun: Canteen!
Cast: Screams of 'teaaaaaaa'...
Grams: Great rush of boots departing. Distant slamming doors very fast...
Seagoon: Well, well, well they've escaped under cover of stupidity.
Greenslade: Oh dear oh dear, very well. In place of the word 'Holly', here's an excerpt from my latest long-player called 'Suddenly it's the news'
Seagoon: Get off that gramophone. In place of that...
Cast: [Chaotic utterances]
Seagoon: Here is a conundrum. What is this sound?
Sellers: It is I, Tom.
Secombe: Yes, it's old 'it is I Tom', Peter Sellers - playboy of Old Finchley tube station and friend of West End managements.
Sellers: I see a vision, Tom.
Seagoon: Well, hold this song and accompany this next announcement.
Sellers: (sings idiot tunes behind Greenslade)
Greenslade: Ladies and Gentlemen, what kind of Christmas has it been. Let us recount one, two, three...
Grams: Eccles singing 'Good King Wenceslas'. (The choral one).
Terry France: Hello Listeners. Terry France here. We're going over now to the services station in the Christmas Islands. So over to them...
Grams: Atom bomb...
Secombe: (kid) Look Mum, another Atom Bomb.
Sellers: (mum) You lucky boy, that means Dad will be home early from work.
Seagoon: Here in London we interview passers by . . . Excuse me, sir, do you believe in a White Christmas?
Ray Ellington: Are you kiddin'?
Seagoon: Ha ha ha yes, and... and you, madam, do you believe in an old, fashioned Christmas by the fire?
Sellers: (whoops dear) Oh, not harf dear.
Seagoon: Conks? Play that arrangement for nose and harmonica, me? I'm for the old brandy there.
Grams: Great rush of receding boots...

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Max Geldray and Orchestra - "It's Got To Be You"

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Greenslade: Tar Tar... Thank you. Now over Christmas a great story broke, being no newspapers it missed the headlines, but here it is in all it's monkey para toot toot pin pon pee pee peee, tiddley. I doe too is the Story of the Tun tack tock!
Orchestra: Dramatic chords...
Milligan: It is Christmas and somewhere in a goatskin flat in naughty Wales, a young hairy titch is working on a painting of a painting!
Seagoon: (fade in) (sings) I painted her, IIIII painted her haha ha, now a dab of red here and a touch of puce, here.
Cynthia Fruit: Ohhhh!
Seagoon: Steady Miss Fruit, keep still .
Cynthia Fruit: It's awfully cold posing like this.
Seagoon: I've got the candle on! Now, there! There we are, you can relax. It's a masterpiece.
Cynthia Fruit: What is it.
Seagoon: The plans of a new British dustbin.
Cynthia Fruit: And you've had me posing nude for that?
Seagoon: It's something to do with my unhappy childhood. Now off you go and change behind that glass screen... ahahaha There she goes, T.V. was never like this. .. Knok, knik knack knock knockitty knokck knock knock... It's an impression of a door knocker. Come in!
Henry Crun: Impression of Innn.
Seagoon: Steaming Pud, it's me old wrinkled retainer Uncle Crun in his new Kingsize nightshirt.
Henry Crun: Here master Ned. A night's quince jelly for you.
Seagoon: Ohh, it's not set.
Henry Crun: No, Min warmed it up. It's no good eating cold jelly on a windy night you know.
Grams: Whoosh of wind
Henry Crun: Ohhhhhhhhh.
Secombe: I wonder where that draught's coming from.
Henry Crun: I don't know where it's coming from but I know where it's going to. Ah ah ah ah ah Christmas Cracker Joker!
Grams: Whoosh of wind again. (as before)...
Henry Crun: Ohhhhhhhhh... this nightshirt is too big for me, the wind is...
Seagoon: Wait, there's another pair of legs sticking out of the bottom.
Henry Crun: Ohhhh, who's that in there, come out or I'll...
Eccles: No I'll come out, 'ello Neddie, 'ello Uncle Crun ... 'ello, I been slummin'.
Seagoon: Eccies, what you doing in that nightshirt?
Eccles: Nuttin'. Everythings marked 'don't touch'.
Henry Crun: Yes. Antiques, you know. But how did you get in? That's what I want to know.
Eccles: I got a map of your legs.
Seagoon: Come on out at once.
Fx: Door opens
Seagoon: A door in the nightshirt opened and out stepped a street with a man in it.
Grytpype: I say, what is.all this noise? There's people in that nightshirt trying to sleep you know.
Seagoon: What what what... you'll get a biff on the knee. Explain that Knutty hand operated mattress.
Grytpype: That mattress Sir, contains the princely string and nut-bound body of such stuff as steams are made of, none other than the Count Jim 'Wakey Wakey'...
Fx: Colossal slap on bare skin
Grytpype: ... Moriarty.
Fx: Scratching
Moriarty: Owwwww... greetings my loyal subjects and all...
Fx: Slapstick
Grytpype: Stop that revolting scratching will you Count. The dear Count is plagued this year with a return of the Royal Strains you know.
Seagoon: Does he really own that nightshirt.
Grytpype: Yes. 'een now, see how he walks the battlements... Of course he only rents the top.
Seagoon: What about the rents in the bottom?
Grytpype: Ned, old jokes will get you nowhere. Look what it did to the Count.
Seagoon: Oh, I apologise for my altitude.
Grytpype: It is low, Ned, could we sell you an extra three feet?
Seagoon: Just what I need.
Grytpype: Moriarty, saw three feet off your wooden leg.
Moriarty: No, I'm going to the ball as a toffee apple.
Grytpype: It's for money!
Fx: Furious Sawing. End drops off.
Grytpype: There Ned, three feet.
Fx: Till
Seagoon: Thank you. I'll tie it to my head and put my hat on it.
Moriarty: Ohh Sapristi nabowlas. He looks like...
Grytpype: Don't tell him!
Seagoon: Now I must get my plans of the dustbin up to London. Where's the nearest station?
Grytpype: In this cupboard. Admission thruppence.
Fx: Till cupboard door opens.
Grams: Station
Willium: 'Ere. Shut that door will yes. . . you want me train to catch cold?
Seagoon: When's the next one to London town divine?
Willium: Arsk that hairy doggie over der.
Seagoon: Ask the doggie? Does he speak?
Willium: Does he what? Does he speak? - 'ere listen, listen to this. 'Ello dog, 'ello doggie, go on tell him dog... No, he don't speak.
Seagoon: How does he know when the train goes?
Willium: I told 'im. Ohh! I can feel a low stabbin' pain in the seats of me underpants. That means it's 9.20! Time to go in it... Hold tight.
Fx: Guards whistle
Grams: Train whistle. Then horse clops slowly away.
Seagoon: Bit short of coal aren't you?
Willium: Yer, you ain't got a bit on you 'ave you?
Seagoon: No, I gave up carrying it.
Willium: Cor, taking chances eh?
Grams: Train whistle.
Greenslade: On arrival in London town divine, Neddie rushed to 10 Downing Street.
Fx: Knock on door. Door opens.
Ray Ellington: (African chief) What you want man?
Seagoon: Here, who are you?
Ray Ellington: I'm the Foreign Secretary, man.
Seagoon: Yes, you do look a bit foreign.
Ray Ellington: Oh steady man, that could mean war with Ghana.
Prime Minister: I say Basil, who is that blotting out the sun with his head?
Ray Ellington: It's a man with a wooden leg tied to his nut with a hat on top.
Prime Minister: Oh, that'll be Lord Hailsham, I expect.
Seagoon: No indeed sir, I'm Ned Seagoon. I've got plans.
Prime Minister: Eh? Let's have a look.
Fx: Unrolling plans
Prime Minister: Nothing here.
Seagoon: The drawings on the other side.
Prime Minister: Oh, that's a clever idea, who'd have guessed? Ahhhh live and learn... plans of new anti-atomic dustbin... Ohhh.
Seagoon: Yes, you see, in the event of radiation, this dustbin will keep your garbage atom free.
Prime Minister: What rubbish!
Seagoon: Indeed.
Prime Minister: Well, here's a CBE on account. Now, would you like to try for the Knight-Star and Garter?
Seagoon: If it's okay with you sir, it's alright with me.
Prime Minister: Good. Come back tomorrow with Hughie Green. Until then a sailor's farewell.
Grams: SPLASH
Fx: DOOR SLAMS
Seagoon: Whoop! Steady there!
Prime Minister: I say, what an ideal intro for Rain Elungton.

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Ray Ellington "I'm Getting Married In The Morning"

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Greenslade: Hardly had that music ceased and the wind gone up the chimney, when the PM presented a new atom proof dustbin to a meeting of high ranking idiots.
Fx: Toy bear's growler sound.
Prime Minister: Gentlemen. This dustbin has great potential, potonsil and potunshal.
Idiot 1: Can it go to the moon?
Prime Minister: No. But from small beginnings though...
Cast: Hear hear.
Idiot 2: Is that the prototype?
Prime Minister: No. That is the dustbin.
Fx: Dustbin lid.
Idiot 2: It sounds like a dustbin.
Fx: Dustbin lid.
Prime Minister: Ha ha ha - I say it's not difficult at all, is it?
Fx: Dustbin as above
Secombe: (ageing) Let. . .I say fellas . . . let me try now.
Fx: Dustbin different tempo to denote that someone else has taken over
Secombe: (ageing) Oh ha ha ha oh dear, oh dear, why didn't we get one of these before, eh?
Prime Minister: Now me again.
Fx: Dustbin
Cast: All laugh, excited noises about banging the bin
Fx: Add dustbin to the above laughter
Prime Minister:. Yes, ahem, now Lord Stron, tell the House of your plan.
Lord Stron: Yes, we intend to find if it's possible for a man to go over the Niagara Falls in a dustbin. (cries of here here) We've got to keep it pretty dark, otherwise the Russians will start putting dustbins into orbit on the Volga rapids. Gentlemen, if you'll all step into this train...
Lord Stron: We'll attend the first attempts of the dustbin.... [gobbeldy gook]
Fx:. Sound of iron bar clanging
Greenslade: Believe it or not, that was the sound of the Kremlin.
Seagoon: You'll just have to believe us, but there it is.
Greenslade: Now. Pardon me while I stand behind this freshly painted suit.
Spottovitch: Comrade Spondovitch, there is a man outside to see you.
Spondovitch: Quick. Swallow this desk then secretary. Prepare for a long siege.
Spottovitch: {garbled} The man claims to be the son of Mata Hari.
Toolsvitch:{garbled} Is he persistent?
Milligan: You ask me...?
[cast crack up]
Spottovitch: He persisted that he was Mata Hari herself until I called the doctor.
Spondovitch: Comrade Toolsvitch, send him in.
Toolsvitch:Come in, son of Mata hari.
Fx: Door opens
Grams: Series of fast approaching footsteps
Bluebottle: The Black Eagle is sitting on the Red Flower Pot.
Toolsvitch:The password!
Bluebottle: Oh? All is well. Comrades, Bluebottleski is here with cardboard to spare.
Spottovitch: Tell us Comrade, what kind of undercover work have you been doing?
Bluebottle: (naughty) Ohh, I couldn't tell you that. Oh, I don't know though... Well I was look-out for the Finchley Wolf Cubs.
Toolsvitch:(keen) ahhh, what did you spot?
Bluebottle: I spotted Mrs Evans and the Milkman.
Toolsvitch:What did you get for that?
Bluebottle: A clout on my ear 'ole.
Spottovitch: Is that a decoration?
Bluebottle: No, that's why I wear one on each side of my nut.
Toolsvitch:There is a tin rouble, get the plans of the British anti-atomic dustbin... or you will lose your deposits.
Eccles: What's goin' on here.
Toolsvitch:Who are you?
Eccles: Stalin.
Fx: Pistol Shot
Eccles: Owwwwwww!
Bluebottle: You twitt, Ecclesavitch. Come wid me... farewell comrades. Nothing but death can stop Bottleski from the plans. Farewell.
Fx: Door slams... Door opens
Bluebottle: Here, dere's a big spider out dere, Oh!
Eccles: I ain't frightened of big spiders. I'll fix him.
Fx: Door slams
Grams: Terrible battle.
Eccles: [Yelling for help].
Fx: Thuds bangs etc.
Grams: Great roaring of a lion aroused.
Fx: Door slams
Bluebottle: 'Ere where's all your clothes?
Eccles: Bottle, say after me, I must learn the difference between a lion and a spider.
Bluebottle: Ohh... ah ha.
Orchestra: Dramatic link
Seagoon: Hello folks, Neddie here folks; meantime the plans went ahead to test my dustbin over the Niagara Falls. For this the Government brought the Niagara Falls to London and put it up at the Savoy. In charge was a master of nuclear explosions.
Orchestra: Last part of Bloodnok Theme
Grams: Bombs exploding etc
Bloodnok: Ohhhhhh. It's a good job the room's sound proof, poor old Frank Sinatra upstairs, my goodness.
Grams: Atom bomb
Bloodnok: Oh, that was the biggest explosion of the series.
Seagoon: Was it Christmas Island?
Bloodnok: No sir, Christmas pudding.
Seagoon: Bloodnok, grand news. We have managed to send an elephant up the Falls in the atom-proof dustbin, and it lived.
Bloodnok: What? No other dustbin has ever done it and lived.
Seagoon: Now next, we want a human being to go in it.
Eccles: I'm safe folks!
Bloodnok: They've called you men, the flower of England and the flower of flunge, to volunteer. Come now, remember it's for England men.
Seagoon: Hahaha. Can't you think of a better reason? Hahaha. Like mummy...
Bloodnok: Cowards you are, cowards all! Anyway...
Bloodnok: ...we'll draw lots for it now. Eccles, write your name on fifty pieces of paper, and put them in a hat.
Eccles: Right, dere.
Bloodnok: Now, draw it out.
Eccles: Right
Bloodnok: What's it say?
Eccles: Mrs Gladys Smith.
Bloodnok:. You imposter sir... you're not Mrs Gladys Smith, I am!
Eccles: I don't want to die.
Bloodnok:. You don't want to die, you suspicious fool, you superstitious mule you... You won't die Eccles. Roll up your trousers!
Grams: Wooden slat blind pulled up
Bloodnok: Ohhhh. . . just as I thought, legs that reach the ground.
Bloodnok: You know what that's a sign of?
Eccles: Legs?
Bloodnok: It's the sure sign of a long liver.
Eccles: I got a long liver.
Bloodnok: Yes. And I'll bet you five pounds that you'll live forever starting... now!
[silence]
Bloodnok: You've done it! You've lived forever.
Fx: Till
Bloodnok: Now strap him in that dustbin for the test.
Eccles: No no, let me go! Take your filthy hand off my filthy arm I...
Orchestra: Dramatic chords
John Snagge: This is London calling in the uncut bicycle service of the Ba Be See. This afternoon, the Prime Minister, told an eager half-empty House that today, England would launch an atomic dustbin into the Niagara Falls, with a highly qualified pilot at the controls. There were demonstrations at the dustbin launching base, when a million barber electricians carrying soup tureens laid down in the road, with socks full of grit. The driver of the steam roller said 'It was so tempting, I'm sorry, I won't do it again' . . . Arsenal 8 - Tottenham 87... (fade)
Grytpype: Hear that Neddie? They're debasing the original use of your dustbin.
Seagoon: I'll get my revenge.
Moriarty: No, I'll get mine.
Seagoon: No no no, thank you, but my revenge is stronger and it lasts the whole drink through.
Seagoon: Don't forget folks. When you want your own back - Get revenge. Today!
Seagoon: and Moriarty: [sings advert sytle] "Get your own back, Get.. Revenge.. Today.."
Grytpype: Ned, for no reason at all, I will become your solicitor. Take a letter on uncut limo. 'Dear Bloodnok.,.
Fx: Nailing down lino. continues under dictation.
Grytpype: Unless you return the plans of Ned's dustbin, Iwill be forced to charge my client a higher rate.' Signed Thynne. Now let me hear that back.
Grams: Grytpype: 'Signed Thynne' played a little faster.
Grytpype: Splendid. Now, go and lay that under his military kippers.
Seagoon: Ha ha ha, he who laffs liffs loofs las, ahem; he who har hees, laffs loose lifs. Hee farewell.
Grams: Speeded up footsteps running away
Grytpype: Gad!I never knew his legs would move so fast
Seagoon: Neither did I. I better get after 'em!
Fx: Whoooossshhh!
Seagoon: Bloodnok!
Bloodnok: Ohhhhhhh
Seagoon: Ha ha ha this lino means curtains for you.
Bloodnok: Lino curtains? What a quaint seasonal custom.. but wait, this is solicitors lino. You'll hear from my linoleum layer in the morning sir. Meantime, take that!
Grams: Jelly splosh!
Seagoon: What is it?
Bloodnok: I don't know sir. It was dark when I trod in it..
Seagoon: Gad, it's a banner with a strange device, and clutched by a lad in snow and ice.
Bluebottle: Get your hands up.
Seagoon: Bluebottle, take that silly rice-paper off.
Bluebottle: You touch one hair of dat and Splashoul. The disintergrater ray gun will speak in my hand, ha ah ha.
Fx: Clang
Bluebottle: Oh, the 'lastic's come off the trigger.
Seagoon: Don't cry Bottle, here, have the suspender off my sock.
Bluebottle: Oh thanks... no... no! That suspender is just a glittering Western prize to make me forget my mission. Now Seagoon, look into my eyes, toot toot toot. . . little daggers come out and point all the way along my eyes to his, too-tooty toot toot. . . the secrets of Bottles mesmerism is bending Ned to my will. . .. strainnnnn strainnnnn powers of eyes, powers of eyes... Ohhh squint, squint, squinteeee.. . Squin.. . ohh, my nose has started to bleed.
Seagoon: You've crossed your eyes, you nit...
Bluebottle: Oh no! Den I'm finished with Russia, I am.. I can't go out wid birds when my eyes are crossed.
Seagoon: We've no time to lose.
Bluebottle: We must save Ecdes from a death worse than fate
Seagoon: Yes, we must save Eccles,
Bloodnok: Ah, but they never did. . . oh dear dear dear. . . to think you poor people came all this way just for that! Diddle diddle dum... Where are the pay offs of yesteryear?
Orchestra: "Old Comrades March" Playout

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