copyrights? don't tell me about copyrights!
mtm...@venus.tamu.edu
now going to post the skits that I found on during an excursion through ftp
land.
You people wouldn't know a copyright law if it jumped up and bit you in the ass.
With a Slip of the Tongue
---- The Cunning Linguist
"I take bad girls, and turn them around."
================================================================================
Note 5.4 Monty Python 4 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 39 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:52
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**** The man who speaks in anagrams (From the 3rd series of Monty Python) ****
**** Transcribed 7/18/87 by Jonathan Partington ****
**** ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
Palin: Hello, good evening and welcome to another edition of Blood Devastation
Death War and Horror, and later on we'll be meeting a man who *does*
gardening. But first on the show we've got a man who speaks entirely in
anagrams.
Idle: Taht si crreoct.
Palin: Do you enjoy it?
Idle: I stom certainly od. Revy chum so.
Palin: And what's your name?
Idle: Hamrag - Hamrag Yatlerot
Palin: Well, Graham, nice to have you on the show. Now, where do you come
from?
Idle: Bumcreland.
Palin: Cumberland?
Idle: Stah't it sepricely.
Palin: And I believe you're working on an anagram version of Shakespeare?
Idle: Sey, sey - taht si crreoct, er - ta the mnemot I'm wroking on "The
Mating of the Wersh".
Palin: "The Mating of the Wersh"? By William Shakespeare?
Idle: Nay, by Malliwi Rapesheake.
Palin: And what else?
Idle: "Two Netlemeng of Verona", "Twelfth Thing", "The Chamrent of Venice"....
Palin: Have you done "Hamlet"?
Idle: "Thamle". 'Be ot or bot ne ot, tath is the nestquoi.'
Palin: And what is your next project?
Idle: "Ring Kichard the Thrid".
Palin: I'm sorry?
Idle: 'A shroe! A shroe! My dingkom for a shroe!'
Palin: Ah, Ring Kichard, yes... but surely that's not an anagram, that's a
spoonerism.
Idle: If you're going to split hairs, I'm going to piss off. (Exit)
**** end of file ANAGRAM PYTHON ****
**** From: JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ****
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Note 5.5 Monty Python 5 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 45 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:52
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**** The page written for people who dislike anagrams ****
**** Transcribed 2/1/88 from "Monty Python's Brand New Papperbok" ****
**** by Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
Hello, and welcome to a page written entirely for people who dislike anagrams.
Hi, anagram-haters everywhere! Down with all words or phrases formed with the
letters of another! This page is specially dedicated to all who hate and
despise the pathetic practice of shuffling letters to form different meanings.
Let us make one thing clear from the start, there will be no anagrams on this
page at all. None whatsoever. So any anagram lovers can just turn to their
own page, where they will find their pathetic practice sufficiently catered
for. We want none of you here. For too long we anti-anagrammatists have had
to put up with the smugness of those who possess the reprehensible ability to
perceive concealed meanings hidden in words or phrases. Now no more; this page
is guaranteed free from anagrams. So just you put your feet up and relax
without worrying whether you are reading concealed anagrams or not. Don't you
just hate those bores who can crack an anagram faster than they can pour the
irate? I'm sorry. That wasn't an anagram. It was a typing error. It should
of course have read 'I rate her pout'. Oh dear. I'm sorry again. That wasn't
a typing error. It was a printer's slip. The phrase 'heat our tripe' should
have read 'I rape her tout'. Oh golly. Sorry. I'm afraid that owing to a
mistake in the proof-reading the phrase 'rip her eat out' has been wrongly
corrected to 'ripe teat hour'. It should of course have read 'at trip out
here'. Oh crikey. I'm terribly sorry but the phrase 'our pi theatre' which we
wrongly informed you was 'the route pair' should have been printed 'rather I
toupe'' and not 'ripe hate hour'. Oh no. Drat the bally thing. I'm most
frightfully sorry but the phrase 'Report the A.U.I.' has been wrongly given as
'therapeutior', when it should quite obviously have read 'opiate hurter'.
Anagrams - A statement
It looks very much as though this page written especially for people who
dislike anagrams has been sabotaged. It appears that someone has infiltrated
the text at a crucial stage and tampered with the words, so that certain
phrases have been red teal (7). We apologise to all haters of anagrams for the
annoyance. It's all very ira tit gin r (10). But there you ear (3). What can
neo od? (3-2). We are taking legal pests (5) to tup (3) the matter right but
until then we can only loose a pig (9). The Tiredo (6).
**** end of file ANAGRAM2 PYTHON 2/2/88 ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.6 Monty Python 6 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 38 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:52
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**** The announcement for people who like figures of speech ****
**** Transcribed 2/1/88 from "Monty Python's Brand New Papperbok" ****
**** by Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
An announcement
Because of the Anagrams dispute it has been decided to devote the rest of this
space to a page specially written for people who like figures of speech, for
the not a few fans of litotes, and those with no small interest in meiosis, for
the infinite millions of hyperbole-lovers, for those fond of hypallage, and the
epithet's golden transfer, for those who fall willingly into the arms of the
metaphor, those who give up the ghost, bury their heads in the sand and ride
roughshod over the mixed metaphor, and even those of hyperbaton the friends.
It will be too, for those who reprehend the malapropism; who love the wealth of
metonymy; for all friends of rhetoric and syllepsis; and zeugmatists with
smiling eyes and hearts. It will bring a large absence of unsatisfactory
malevolence to periphrastic fans; a wig harm bello to spoonerists; and in no
small measure a not less than splendid greeting to you circumlocutors. The
World adores prosopopeiasts, and the friendly faces of synechdotists, and can
one not make those amorous of anacoluthon understand that if they are not
satisfied by this, what is to happen to them? It will attempt to really
welcome all splitters of infinitives, all who are Romeo and Juliet to
antonomasia, those who drink up similes like sparkling champagne, who lose
nothing compared with comparison heads, self-evident axiomists, all pithy
aphorists, apothegemists, maximiles, theorists, epigrammatists and even
gnomists. And as for the lovers of aposiopesis -- ! It will wish bienvenu to
all classical adherents of euphuism, all metathesistic birds, golden
paranomasiasts covered in guilt, fallacious paralogists, trophists, anagogists,
and anaphorists; to greet, welcome, embrace asyndeton buffs, while the lovers
of ellipsis will be well-met and its followers embraced, as will be chronic
worshippers of catachresis and supporters of anastrophe the world over.
**** end of file ANAGRAM3 PYTHON 2/2/88 ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.7 Monty Python 7 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 207 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:52
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**** The tale of Sir Galahad: ANTHRAX PYTHON ****
**** Transcribed, expressly for the Python collection at BBoard@Yalevmx ****
**** from the tape of the film ****
**** by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 3/11/87 ****
**** Transcript #10 from the film. ****
**** Continued from transcript #9, ROBIN PYTHON. ****
Sir Galahad, making his way through deep forest in the middle of a terrible
thunderstorm, comes upon a dark, tall castle. At the top of the tower glows a
stunning image of the Holy Grail. A wolf howls.
He struggles to the door of the castle, upon which, while standing in the
pouring rain, he bangs with his armored glove.
Galahad: <banging> Open the door!
<banging again> Open the door!
In the name of King Arthur, open the door!
The door creaks open, and Galahad falls onto the stone floor of the castle.
Looking up, he sees the faces of three young women dressed all in white.
Women: Hello!
Hello!
Hello!
Zoot: Welcome, gentle Sir Knight, to the Castle Anthrax!
Galahad: (confused) The Castle Anthrax??
Zoot: Yes... (disappointed) It's not a very good name, is it?
(brightening) Oh, But *we* are nice! And we will attend to your
every, *every* need!
Galahad: You are the keepers of the Holy Grail?
Zoot: The what?
Galahad: The Grail... it is here....
Zoot: Oh, but you are tired, and you must rest a while!
Midget! Creeper!
Other women: Yes, Sir Zoot!
Zoot: Prepare a *bed* for our guest.
Others: Yes, Sir Zoot. Thank you, Sir Zoot! Thank you, Sir Zoot! Thank you-
Zoot: Away, Away, vile etessence!
(to Galahad) The beds here are warm and soft...
And very, *very* big.
Galahad: (protesting) Well, look, I..I, uh--
Zoot: What is your name, handsome knight?
Galahad: Sir Galahad.... the Chaste.
Zoot: Mine is Zoot... just, Zoot.
Oh, but come! (starts to lead him upstairs)
Galahad: No, *please*! In god's name, show me the Grail!!
Zoot: Oh, you have suffered much! You are delerious!
Galahad: (urgently) No, look, I have seen it! It is here, it--
Zoot: Sir Galahad! You would not be so un-gallant as to refuse our
hospitality!
Galahad: (pause) Well, I--I, uh.... (looks at feet, fingers edge of shield)
Zoot: (leading him upstairs)
Oh... I'm afraid our life must seem very dull and quiet compared to
yours. We are but 8 score younge blondes and brunettes... all
between sixteen and 19-and-a-half... cut off in this castle with no
one to protect us! Oh... it is a lonely life. Bathing...
dressing... undressing... knitting exciting underwear.... We are
just not used to handsome knights!
(she leads him to a bed and sits him down; he tries to get up.)
Nay, nay, come, come! You may lie here. (pushes him down on the bed)
(seeing blood on his armour) Oh!! But you are wounded!
Galahad: No, no.. i-it's nothing!
Zoot: Oh, you must see the doctors immediately!
(he starts to get up and leave)
(pushing him back down) No, no, please! Lie down.
She claps her hands twice; two sixteen-year old girls arrive.
Piglet: Well... what seems to be the trouble?
Galahad: (incredulous) They're DOCTORS?
Zoot: Uh... they have a basic medical training, yes....
Galahad once again tries to get up and leave. Zoot, quite adept at it by this
time, pushes him back down on the bed.
Oh, come, come... you must try to rest.
Doctor Piglet, Doctor Winston; practice your art. (leaves)
The two girls sit on the bed and relieve Galahad of his shield, which he's
been holding in front of him during the whole scene.
Winston: *Try* to relax...
Galahad: Are you sure that's absolutely necessary?
Piglet: We *must* examine you....
(lifts up a flap of his kilt)
Galahad: There's nothing wrong with *that*!
Winston: Please.... we *are* doctors.
(They begin to proceed with the examination when a metallic "bong" is heard
from Galahad's nether region. He grabs his shield and jumps out of bed.)
Galahad: Ach! That cannot be! I am sworn to Chastity!
Winston: Back to your bed at once!
Galahad: Torment me no longer! I have seen the Grail!
Piglet: There's no grail here...
Galahad: I have seen it, I have seen it!
(he runs through the curtain into another room.)
I have--
(suddenly he looks around, and realizes that this room is filled with young
women, all in their nightclothes. Some are brushing their hair, some are
eating various sorts of suggestive fruits... As he passes through them, each
one whispers "Hello!". He runs out of the chamber, into a staircase, where he
almost runs into...)
Zoot!!
Zoot: No, I am Zoot's identical twin sister, Dingo.
Galahad: Oh. Well, excuse me, I-- (starting to go by her down the stairs)
Dingo: (standing in his way) Where are you going?
Galahad: I seek the Grail! I have seen it, here, in this castle!
Dingo: (sudden realization) No... oh, no!!
Bad, *bad* Zoot!
Galahad: What is it?
Dingo: Oh, wicked, bad, *naughty* Zoot!
She has been setting a light to our beacon, which, I've just
remembered, is grail-shaped. It's not the first time we've had this
problem....
Galahad: (incredibly disappointed) It's not the real Grail????!
Dingo: Oh, wicked, bad, naughty, *evil* Zoot!
(leading him back into the room with all the women in it)
She is a *naughty* person.... and she must pay the penalty!
And here in Castle Anthrax, we have but one punishment for setting
alight the grail-shaped beacon: You must tie her down on a bed,
and *spank* her.
Others: A spanking, a spanking!!!
Dingo: You must spank her well, and after you have spanked her, you may deal
with her as you like. And then...... spank me!
Others: And spank me!
And me!
And me!
And me!
Dingo: Yes, you must give us all a good spanking!!
Others: A spanking, a spanking, there's going to be a spanking tonight!!!!!
Dingo: ...and after the spanking.... the Oral Sex!!
Others: (amid squeals of delight) The oral sex, the oral sex!!!
Galahad: Well, I could stay a *bit* longer...
(suddenly, Sir Launcelot and two other nondescript knights come storming into
the room, swords drawn.)
Launcelot: Sir Galahad!
Galahad: Oh, hello...
Launcelot: (taking him by the arm) Quick!
Galahad: What?
Launcelot: (dragging him out of the room) Quick!!
Galahad: Why?
Launcelot: You are in great peril!!!
Dingo: No he isn't!
Launcelot: Silence, FOUL TEMPTRESS!!!
Galahad: Hey look, she's got the point...
Launcelot: Come on, we must cover your escape!
Galahad: (being dragged out) Look, I'm FINE!
Launcelot (now dragging him into the entrance hall) COME ON...
Dingo: Sir Galahad...
Galahad: Look, I can tackle this lot *singlehanded*.
Dingo: Yes, let him tackle us singlehanded!!
Others: Yes, yes!!! Singlehanded!!!!!
Launcelot: No, Sir Galahad. Come!! (continues dragging him out)
Galahad: No really, honestly, I can cope. I can handle this lot *easily*.
Dingo: Oh, Yes, let him handle us *easily*.....
Others: Yes, yes....
Galahad: Please, please. I can defeat them; there's only a hundred and fifty
of them! (is dragged out the door)
Dingo: Yes, yes, he'll beat us easily... we haven't a chance!
Others: No, we haven't a chance! We haven't a chance!!!
(the door slams behind the departed knights)
Dingo: Oh, *shit*.
Outside, Launcelot and the other two knights are still walking Galahad away
from the castle door.
Launcelot: We were in the nick of time; you were in great peril!
Galahad: I *don't* think I was.
Launcelot: Yes you were, you were in *terrible* peril.
Galahad: Look. Let me go back in there and *face* the peril.
Launcelot: No, it's too perilous.
Galahad: But my duty as a knight is to stop as much peril as I can.
Launcelot: No, we've got to find the Holy Grail. Come on.
Galahad: Oh, let me have just a *little bit* of Peril?
Launcelot: No; it's unhealthy.
Galahad: I bet you're gay!
Launcelot: (indignant) No I'm not!
(up on scene 24)
Voice over: Sir Launcelot had saved Sir Galahad from almost *certain*
temptation. But they were still no nearer the Grail.
Meanwhile, King Arthur and Sir Bedevere, not more than a swallow's flight
away, had discovered something.
(music up)
Oh, that's an *unladen* swallow's flight, obviously.
I mean, they were more than two *laden* swallows' flights away.
Four, really, if they had a coconut on a line between them.
I mean, if the birds were walking, and dragging--
( crowd says "GET ON WITH IT!!")
Oh, anyway. On to Scene 24, which is a smashing scene with some lovely acting,
n which Arthur discovers a vital clue. And in which there aren't any
swallows, although I think you can hear a starling--
(he is clubbed from behind)
**** Following scene 24, which has not been transcribed due to its ****
**** essential lack of funny bits, the film is continued in ****
**** NI PYTHON, transcript #11. ****
**** end of file ANTHRAX PYTHON 3/11/87 M.M.D. ****
================================================================================
Note 5.8 Monty Python 8 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 131 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:52
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**** The Architects Sketch ****
**** by John Cleese and Graham Chapman; ****
**** from "Monty Python's Flying Circus", 20 October 1970 ****
**** Transcribed 9/14/87 by Dawn Whiteside ( SC...@MCMASTER.BITNET ) *****
Scene: A large posh office. Two clients, well-dressed city gents, sit facing
a large table at which stands Mr. Tid, the account manager of the
architectural firm.
(original cast: Mr Tid, Graham Chapman; Mr Wiggin, John Cleese; City Gent One,
Michael Palin; Client 2:, Terry Jones; Mr Wymer, Eric Idle)
Mr. Tid (Graham Chapman): Well, gentlemen, we have two architectural designs
for this new residential block of yours and I
thought it best if the architects themselves
explained the particular advantages of their
designs.
There is a knock at the door.
Mr. Tid: Ah! That's probably the first architect now. Come in.
Mr. Wiggin enters.
Mr. Wiggin (John Cleese): Good morning, gentlemen.
Clients: Good morning.
Mr. Wiggin: This is a 12-storey block combining classical neo-Georgian feature s
with the efficiency of modern techniques. The tenants arrive here
and are carried along the corridor on a conveyor belt in extreme
comfort, past murals depicting Mediterranean scenes, towards the
rotating knives. The last twenty feet of the corridor are heavily
soundproofed. The blood pours down these chutes and the mangled
flesh slurps into these....
Client 1: Excuse me.
Mr. Wiggin: Yes?
Client 1: Did you say 'knives'?
Mr. Wiggin: Rotating knives, yes.
Client 2: Do I take it that you are proposing to slaughter our tenants?
Mr. Wiggin: ...Does that not fit in with your plans?
Client 1: Not really. We asked for a simple block of flats.
Mr. Wiggin: Oh. I hadn't fully divined your attitude towards the tenants. You
see I mainly design slaughter houses.
Clients: Ah.
Mr. Wiggin: Pity.
Clients: Yes.
Mr. Wiggin: (indicating points of the model) Mind you, this is a real beaut.
None of your blood caked on the walls and flesh flying out of the
windows incommoding the passers-by with this one.
(confidentially) My life has been leading up to this.
Client 2: Yes, and well done, but we wanted an apartment block.
Mr. Wiggin: May I ask you to reconsider.
Clients: Well....
Mr. Wiggin: You wouldn't regret this. Think of the tourist trade.
Client 1: I'm sorry. We want a block of flats, not an abattoir.
Mr. Wiggin: ...I see. Well, of course, this is just the sort of blinkered
philistine ignorance I've come to expect from you non-creative
garbage. You sit there on your loathsome spotty behinds squeezing
blackheads, not caring a tinker's cuss for the struggling artist.
You excrement, you whining hypocritical toadies with your colour TV
sets and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs and your bleeding masonic
secret handshakes. You wouldn't let me join, would you, you
blackballing bastards. Well I wouldn't become a Freemason if you
went down on your stinking knees and begged me.
Client 2: We're sorry you feel that way but we did want a block of flats,
nice though the abattoir is.
Mr. Wiggin: Oh sod the abattoir, that's not important.
(He dashes forward and kneels in front of them.)
But if any of you could put in a word for me I'd love to be a
mason. Masonry opens doors. I'd be very quiet, I was a bit on
edge just now but if I were a mason I'd sit at the back and not get
in anyone's way.
Client 1: (politely) Thank you.
Mr. Wiggin: ...I've got a second-hand apron.
Client 2: Thank you.
(Mr. Wiggin hurries to the door but stops...)
Mr. Wiggin: I nearly got in at Hendon.
Client 1: Thank you.
Mr. Wiggin exits. Mr Tid rises.
Mr. Tid: I'm sorry about that. Now the second architect is Mr. Wymer of Wymer
and Dibble.
(Mr. Wymer enters, carrying his model with great care. He places it on the
table.)
Mr. Wymer: Good morning gentlemen. This is a scale model of the block, 28
stories high, with 280 apartments. It has three main lifts and two
service lifts. Access would be from Dibbingley Road.
(The model falls over. Mr Wymer quickly places it upright again.)
The structure is built on a central pillar system with...
(The model falls over again. Mr Wymer tries to make it stand up, but it won't,
so he has to hold it upright.)
...with cantilevered floors in pre-stressed steel and concrete.
The dividing walls on each floor section are fixed by recessed
magnalium-flanged grooves.
(The bottom ten floors of the model give way and it partly collapses.)
By avoiding wood and timber derivatives and all other inflammables
we have almost totally removed the risk of....
(The model is smoking. The odd flame can be seen. Wymer looks at the city
gents.)
Frankly, I think the central pillar may need strengthening.
Client 2: Is that going to put the cost up?
Mr. Wymer: I'm afraid so.
Client 2: I don't know we need to worry too much about strengthening
that. After all, these are not meant to be luxury flats.
Client 1: Absolutely. If we make sure the tenants are of light build and
relatively sedentary and if the weather's on our side, I think we
have a winner here.
Mr. Wymer: Thank you.
(The model explodes.)
Client 2: I quite agree.
Mr. Wymer: Well, thank you both very much.
(They all shake hands, giving the secret Mason's handshake.)
Cut to Mr. Wiggin watching at the window.
Mr. Wiggin (turning to camera): It opens doors, I'm telling you.
**** end of file ARCHITEC PYTHON 9/15/87 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.9 Monty Python 9 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 174 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:52
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**** The Argument Sketch ****
**** transcribed from a tape of the record of ****
**** Monty Python Live at City Center ****
**** by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86 ****
A man walks into an office.
Man: Good morning, I'd like to have an argument, please.
Receptionist: Certainly, sir. Have you been here before?
Man: No, this is my first time.
Receptionist: I see, well we'll see who's free at the moment.
Mr. Bakely's free, but he's a little bit concilliatory. No.
Try Mr. Barnhart, room 12.
Man: Thank you.
He enters room 12.
Angry man: WHADDAYOU WANT?
Man: Well, Well, I was told outside that...
Angry man: DON'T GIVE ME THAT, YOU SNOTTY-FACED HEAP OF PARROT DROPPINGS!
Man: What?
A: SHUT YOUR FESTERING GOB, YOU TIT! YOUR TYPE MAKES ME PUKE! YOU VACUOUS
STUFFY-NOSED MALODOROUS PERVERT!!!
M: Yes, but I came here for an argument!!
A: OH! Oh! I'm sorry! This is abuse!
M: Oh! Oh I see!
A: Aha! No, you want room 12A, next door.
M: Oh...Sorry...
A: Not at all!
A: (under his breath) stupid git.
The man goes into room 12A. Another man is sitting behind a desk.
Man: Is this the right room for an argument?
Other Man:(pause) I've told you once.
Man: No you haven't!
Other Man: Yes I have.
M: When?
O: Just now.
M: No you didn't!
O: Yes I did!
M: You didn't!
O: I did!
M: You didn't!
O: I'm telling you, I did!
M: You didn't!
O: (breaking into the developing argument) Oh I'm sorry, is this a five minute
argument, or the full half hour?
M: Ah! (taking out his wallet and paying) Just the five minutes.
O: Just the five minutes. Thank you.
Anyway, I did.
M: You most certainly did not!
O: Now let's get one thing perfectly clear: I most definitely told you!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did! ___
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did! > very fast
M: Oh no you didn't! /
O: Oh yes I did! /
M: No you DIDN'T! /
O: Oh yes I did! /
M: No you DIDN'T! /
O: Oh yes I did! /
M: No you DIDN'T! /
O: Oh yes I did! ___/
M: Oh look, this isn't an argument!
(pause)
O: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
(pause)
M: It's just contradiction!
O: No it isn't!
M: It IS!
O: It is NOT!
M: You just contradicted me!
O: No I didn't!
M: You DID!
O: No no no!
M: You did just then!
O: Nonsense!
M: (exasperated) Oh, this is futile!!
(pause)
O: No it isn't!
M: Yes it is!
(pause)
I came here for a good argument!
O: AH, no you didn't, you came here for an *argument*!
M: An argument isn't just contradiction.
O: Well! it CAN be!
M: No it can't!
An argument is a connected series of statement intended to establish a
proposition.
O: No it isn't!
M: Yes it is! 'tisn't just contradiction.
O: Look, if I *argue* with you, I must take up a contrary position!
M: Yes but it isn't just saying "no it isn't".
O: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
O: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
O: Yes it is!
M: No it ISN'T! Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is just
the automatic gainsaying of anything the other person says.
O: It is NOT!
M: It is!
O: Not at all!
M: It is!
>DING!< The Arguer hits a bell on his desk and stops.
O: Thank you, that's it.
M: (stunned) What?
O: That's it. Good morning.
M: But I was just getting interested!
O: I'm sorry, the five minutes is up.
M: That was never five minutes!!
O: I'm afraid it was.
M: (leading on) No it wasn't.....
(pause)
O: (dirty look) I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to argue any more.
M: WHAT??
O: If you want me to go on arguing, you'll have to pay for another five
minutes.
M: But that was never five minutes just now!
(pause... the Other Man raises his eyebrows)
Oh Come on!
Oh this is...
This is ridiculous!
O: I told you...
I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you PAY!
M: Oh all right. (takes out his wallet and pays again.) There you are.
O: Thank you.
M: (clears throat) Well...
O: Well WHAT?
M: That was never five minutes just now.
O: I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid!
M: Well I just paid!
O: No you didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: (unable to talk straight he's so mad) I don't want to argue about it!
O: Well I'm very sorry but you didn't pay!
M: Ah HAH!! Well if I didn't pay, why are you arguing??? Ah HAAAAAAHHH!
Gotcha!
O: (pause) No you haven't!
M: Yes I have!
If you're arguing, I must have paid.
O: Not necessarily.
I *could* be arguing in my spare time.
**** end of ARGUMENT PYTHON, last revised 12/8/86 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.10 Monty Python 10 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 29 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< ASSOCIAT.MP >-
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**** The Word Association sketch ****
**** Transcribed from a Python Album by ****
**** Dave Bregman ( FAC...@UOFT01.BITNET ) ****
**** and edited by Bret Shefter ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
Word Association Football
Tonight's the night I shall be talking about of flu the subject of word
association football. This is a technique out a living much used in the
practice makes perfect of psychoanalysister and brother and one that has
occupied piper the majority rule of my attention squad by the right number one
two three four the last five years to the memory. It is quite remarkable baker
charlie how much the miller's son this so-called while you were out word
association immigrants' problems influences the manner from heaven in which we
sleekit cowering timrous beasties all-American Speke, the famous explorer. And
the really well that is surprising partner in crime is that a lot and his wife
of the lions' feeding time we may be c d e effectively quite unaware of the
fact or fiction section of the Watford Public Library that we are even doing it
is a far, far better thing that I do now then, now then, what's going onward
christian Barnard the famous hearty part of the lettuce now praise famous
mental homes for loonies like me. So on the button, my contention causing all
the headaches, is that unless we take into account of Monte Cristo in our
thinking George the Fifth this phenomenon the other hand we shall not be able
satisFact or Fiction section of the Watford Public Library againily to
understand to attention when I'm talking to you and stop laughing, about human
nature, man's psychological make-up some story the wife'll believe and hence
the very meaning of life itselfish bastard, I'll kick him in the balls upon the
road.
================================================================================
Note 5.11 Monty Python 11 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 64 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
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**** The Banter Sketch ****
**** From Monty Python's Flying Circus ****
**** Transcribed 1/1/88 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
(Scene: a wartime RAF station)
Jones: Morning, Squadron Leader.
Idle: What-ho, Squiffy.
Jones: How was it?
Idle: Top-hole. Bally Jerry, pranged his kite right in the how's-your-father;
hairy blighter, dicky-birded, feathered back on his sammy, took a waspy,
flipped over on his Betty Harpers and caught his can in the Bertie.
Jones: Er, I'm afraid I don't quite follow you, Squadron Leader.
Idle: It's perfectly ordinary banter, Squiffy. Bally Jerry, pranged his kite
right in the how's-your-father; hairy blighter, dicky-birded, feathered
back on his sammy, took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harpers and
caught his can in the Bertie.
Jones: No, I'm just not understanding banter at all well today. Give us it
slower.
Idle: Banter's not the same if you say it slower, Squiffy.
Jones: Hold on then -- Wingco! -- just bend an ear to the Squadron Leader's
banter for a sec, would you?
Chapman: Can do.
Jones: Jolly good. Fire away.
Idle: Bally Jerry... (he goes through it all again)
Chapman: No, I don't understand that banter at all.
Idle: Something up with my banter, chaps?
GRAMS: AIR RAID SIRENS
(Enter Palin, out of breath)
Palin: Bunch of monkeys on the ceiling, sir! Grab your egg-and-fours and
let's get the bacon delivered!
Chapman (to Idle): Do *you* understand that?
Idle: No -- I didn't get a word of it.
Chapman: Sorry, old man, we don't understand your banter.
Palin: You know -- bally tenpenny ones dropping in the custard!
(no reaction)
Palin: Um -- Charlie choppers chucking a handful!
Chapman: No no -- sorry.
Jones: Say it slower, old chap.
Palin: Slower *banter*, sir?
Chapman: Ra-ther.
Palin: Um -- sausage squad up the blue end?
Idle: No, still don't get it.
Palin: Um -- cabbage crates coming over the briny?
The others: No, no.
(Film of air-raid)
Idle (voice-over): But by then it was too late. The first cabbage crates hit
London on July the 7th. That was just the beginning.
(Chapman seen sitting at desk, on telephone)
Chapman: Five shillings a dozen? That's ordinary cabbages, is it? And what
about the bombs?... Good Lord, they _are_ expensive.
**** end of file BANTER PYTHON 1/20/88 ****
**** show continues in WOOD PYTHON ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.12 Monty Python 12 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 48 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
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**** The Barber Shop Sketch ****
**** From Monty Python's Flying Circus ****
**** And "And Now for Something Completely Different" ****
**** Transcribed by Dave Bregman ( FAC...@UOFT01.BITNET ) ****
**** and edited by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
The Barbershop Sketch
Customer: Hello, is this the Barbershop Sketch?
Barber: Y-y-yes sir. B-b-b-be with you in a minute.
(The barber is now washing and re-washing his hands, trying to remove the
obvious blood-stains from them and his coat.)
Barber: H-h-how would you like it sir?
Customer: Just short back and sides.
Barber: How do you do that?
Customer: Oh, you know, just short back and sides.
Barber: It's not a... a razor cut, RAZOR CUT BLOOD ARTERY MURDER SPUrt.. arr...
Customer: No, just ordinary short back and sides, you know...
Barber: It's just s-s-s-scissors then...
Customer: Yes.
Barber: You wouldn't rather forget all about it?
Customer: What?
Barber: You wouldn't prefer to have it just combed?
Customer: Oh, no.. I want something cut off!
Barber: Cut, CUT HEART HITCHCOCK MURDER BLOOD PSYCHO HOMICIDE SPURT ARTERY
TREMOR CORTEX Arrrgg...!
(The barber fakes a few quick snips.)
Barber: There, finished.
Customer: I beg your pardon?
Barber: I've finished cutting, cutting, CUTTING, CUTTING YOUR HAIR!
Customer: Well, you haven't even done any cutting yet.
Barber: All right, I confess I didn't cut your hair. I hate hair. I-I I
can't bear cutting it. I have this uncontrolable fear whenever I see
hair. My mother said I was a fool! She said the only way to
overcome my fear would be to become a barber. I didn't want to be a
barber.
I wanted to be... A *LUMBERJACK*!
(music up)
**** Continued in LUMBERJK PYTHON ****
**** end of file BARBER PYTHON 8/30/87 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.13 Monty Python 13 of 96
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**** The "Buying a Bed" sketch ****
**** from "Monty Python's Flying Circus" ****
**** Transcribed 5/14/87 by ****
**** Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
**** and edited by Bret Shefter ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 9/5/87 ****
Husband (Terry Jones): Hello, my wife and I would like to buy a bed, please.
Mr Lambert (Graham Chapman): Certainly sir, I'll get someone to help you.
Wife (Carol Cleveland): Thank you.
Lambert: Mr Verity!
Mr Verity (Eric Idle): Can I help you, sir?
Husband: Yes, we'd like a bed, a double bed, and I wondered if you'd got one
for about fifty pounds.
Verity: Oh no, I'm afraid not, sir. Our cheapest bed is eight hundred
pounds, sir.
Husband & Wife: Eight hundred pounds?
Lambert: Excuse me, sir, but before I go, I ought to have told you that Mr
Verity does tend to exaggerate. Every figure he gives you will be
ten times too high.
Husband: I see.
Lambert: Otherwise he's perfectly all right.
Husband: I see. Er... your cheapest double bed then is eighty pounds?
Verity: Eight hundred pounds, yes, sir.
Husband: I see. And how wide is it?
Verity: It's sixty feet wide.
Husband: Yes...
Wife: (whispers) Sixty feet!
Husband: (whispers) Six foot wide, you see.
Wife: (whispers) Oh.
Husband: ...and the length?
Verity: The length is ... er ... just a moment. Mr Lambert, what is the
length of the Comfidown Majorette?
Lambert: Ah. Two foot long.
Husband: Two foot long?
Verity: Yes, remembering of course that you have to multiply everything Mr
Lambert says by three. It's nothing he can help, you understand.
Otherwise he's perfectly all right.
Husband: I see, I'm sorry.
Verity: But it does mean that when he says a bed is two foot long, it is in
fact sixty foot long, all right?
Husband: Yes, I see.
Verity: That's without the mattress, of course.
Husband: How much is that?
Verity: Er, Mr Lambert will be able to tell you that. Lambert! Could you
show these twenty good people the dog kennels, please?
Husband: Dog kennels? No, no, the mattresses!
Verity: I'm sorry, you have to say 'dog kennel' to Mr Lambert, because if you
say 'mattress' he puts a bucket* over his head. I should have
explained. Otherwise he's perfectly all right.
Husband: Oh. Ah. I see. Er, excuse me, could you show us the dog kennels,
please, hm?
Lambert: Dog kennels?
Husband: Yes, we want to look at the dog kennels, hm.
Lambert: Ah yes, well that's the pets' department, second floor.
Husband: No, no, no, we want to see the DOG KENNELS.
Lambert (irritated): Yes, second floor.
Husband: No, we don't want to see dog kennels, it's just that Mr Verity said
that...
Lambert: Oh dear, what's he been telling you now?
Husband: Well, he said we should say 'dog kennels' instead of saying
'mattresses'.
(Lambert puts bucket on his head)
Husband: Oh dear. Hello? Hello? Hello?
Verity: (approaching) Did you say 'mattress'?
Husband: Well, yes, er...
Lambert: (muffled) I'm not coming out!
Verity: I did *ask* you not to say 'mattress', didn't I?
Husband: But I mean, er...
Lambert: (muffled) I'm not!
Husband: Oh.
Verity: Now I've got to get him to the fish tank and sing.
Husband: Oh.
Verity: (sings) And did those feet, in ancient time...
Another assistant (John Cleese): (walking up, hearing the singing) Oh dear,
did somebody say mattress to Mr Lambert?
Husband: Yes, I did.
(Assistant gives nasty look at Husband)
Verity: (still singing) ...walk upon England's mountains green...
(Assistant joins in) ...and was the Holy Lamb of God...
(Lambert removes bucket; Verity and Assistant immediately stop singing;
assistant leaves.)
Verity: He should be all right now, but don't...you know...*don't*!
Husband: No, no. (to Lambert) Excuse me, could we see the dog kennels please?
Lambert (irritated): Yes, pets department, second floor.
Husband: No, no, no. Those dog kennels, like that. You see?
Lambert: Mattresses?
Husband: (relieved) Yes.
Lambert: But if you want a mattress, why not say 'mattress'?
Husband: (nervously) Ha ha, I mean...
Lambert: I mean, it's a little confusing for me when you say 'dog kennel' if
you want a mattress. Why not just say 'mattress'?
Husband: But you put a bucket over your head last time we said 'mattress'.
(Lambert puts the bucket over his head again)
Verity: (running on the scene again) Oh dear! (sings) And did those feet...
Assistant: (to Husband) We *did* ask!
(duet) ...in ancient times,
walk upon England's mountains green...
(singing continues throughout the next few lines of dialogue)
Yet another assistant (Michael Palin): (running in)
Did somebody say 'mattress' to Mr Lambert?
(Cleese points angrily towards the Husband and Wife)
Verity: *Twice*!
Other Assistant: (shouting throughout the store) Hey, everybody! Somebody
said 'mattress' to Mr Lambert -- *twice*!
(joins in the singing)
(Organ music swells and they carry on singing)
Verity: It's not working, we need more!
(The entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir begins to sing in the background. Sounds
of water splashing; eventually Lambert removes the bucket again and they stop
singing)
Lambert: I'm sorry, can I help you?
Wife: (brightly) We want a mattress!
(Lambert puts the bucket over his head again. Verity, husband and assistants
all groan and glare accusingly at wife)
Wife: But it's my only line!!!
*N.B. In the television version it was a paper bag, on the record it was a
bucket (better sound effects?)
**** end of BED PYTHON 5/14/87 ****
To: CLARINET@YALEVM
From: JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK
(JRP1%CAM...@UK.AC.CAM.ENG-ICF)
Authentic-sender: MAI...@UK.AC.CAMBRIDGE.ENGINEERING.SERC-ICF
================================================================================
Note 5.14 Monty Python 14 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 111 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< BIGNOSE.MP >-
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**** The Big Nose Scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed 4/28/86 by ****
**** Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS10...@YUSOL.BITNET ) ****
**** and edited by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
Titles on Screen:
Judea A.D. 33
Saturday Afternoon
About Tea-Time
(We hear the distant voice of Jesus Christ floating towards us and cut to see
him standing at the summit of a hill. Around him as we track backwards are
thousands of people, listening to his words:)
Jesus: How blest are the sorrowful, for they shall find consolation.
How blest are those of gentle spirit.
They shall have the earth for their posession.
How blest are those who hunger and thirst to see right prevail.
They shall be satisfied...
(CHRIST's voice gets fainter as we pull back from him revealing the enormous
size of the crowd. Standing nearby, isolated but alert, is a large contingent
of Roman soldiers drawn up in serried ranks, armed, impassive, on foreign
extra-weekend duty, keeping an eye on a large and potentially anti-Roman
crowd.)
(We are a long way back from JESUS now, on another hillside towards the back
of this huge multitude. His voice is barely audible on the wind. People are
straining to hear. The camera comes to rest by Mandy, older now by thirty-
three years, but still a ratbag.)
Mandy: Speak up!
Brian: Mum! Sh!
Mandy: Well I can't hear a thing! Let's go to the stoning.
Big-nose: Sh!
Brian: You can go to a stoning any time.
Mandy: Oh, come on Brian!
Big-nose: Will you be quiet?
Big-nose's wife: Don't pick your nose.
Big-nose: I wasn't picking my nose ... I was scratching.
Wife: You were picking it while you were talking to that lady.
Big-nose: I wasn't.
Wife: Leave it alone...give it a rest...
Cheeky Man: Do you mind? I can't hear a word he's saying.
Wife: Don't you "do you mind" me...I'm talking to my husband.
Cheeky Man: Well go and talk to him somewhere else! I can't hear a bloody
thing!
Big-nose: Don't you swear at my wife.
Cheeky Man: I was only asking her to shut up so we can hear what he's saying,
Big-nose.
Wife: Don't you call my husband "Big-nose."
Cheeky Man: Well he has got a big nose.
(Suddenly another rather well-heeled Jew in a toga turns around. He constantly
has trouble with his toga and has to keep pushing it back in place. His voice
is very cultured. A small boy is holding a large parasol over his head.
He is Gregory and he is out for the day with his wife.)
Gregory: Could you be quiet, please?
(to Cheeky Man) What was that?
Cheeky Man: I don't know...I was too busy talking to Big-nose.
Man Further Forward: I think it was "Blessed are the Cheesemakers."
Wife: What's so special about the cheesemakers?
Gregory: It's not meant to be taken literally. Obviously it refers to any
manufacturers of dairy products.
Cheeky Man: See, if you hadn't been going on, you'd have heard that, Big-nose.
Big-nose: Hey, if you say that once more, I'll smash your fucking face in.
Cheeky Man: Better keep listening...might be a bit about "Blessed are the big
noses."
Brian: Oh, lay off him!
Cheeky Man: (rounding on Brian) You're not so bad yourself, Conchface. Where
are you two from? Nose City?
Big-nose: Listen! I said one more time...mate and I'll take you to the
fucking cleaners.
Wife: Language! And don't pick your nose!
Big-nose: I wasn't going to pick my nose. I was going to thump him.
Other Person: I think it was "Blessed are the Greek."
Gregory: *The* Greek?
Other Person: Apparently he's going to inherit the earth.
Gregory: Did anyone catch his name?
Big-nose: I'll thump him if he calls me Big-nose again.
Cheeky Man: Oh shut up, Big-nose.
Big-nose: Ooh! Right! I warned you...I really will slug you so hard...
Wife: Oh it's the *Meek*...blessed are the Meek! That's nice, I'm glad
they're getting something, 'cause they have a hell of a time.
Cheeky Man: Listen, I'm only telling the truth...you have got a very big nose.
Big-nose: (trying desperately to control his anger)
*Your* nose is going to be three foot wide across your face when
I've finished with you.
Cheeky Man: Who hit yours then? Goliath's big brother?
Big-nose: Oooh...oohh...aargh...ah
(supreme self-control)
That's your last warning...
Mrs. Gregory: Oh do pipe d...
(Big-nose lets fly an almighty punch, but the Cheeky Man ducks and he hits Mrs.
Gregory hard in the face. Horrible crunching of fist on bone. A general
scuffle breaks out.)
Big-nose: Silly bitch, getting in the way.
Mandy: Brian! Come on, let's go to the stoning.
Brian: All right.
**** Here endeth Part Three of Life of Brian (of Nazareth) ****
**** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or ****
**** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... ****
**** Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS10...@YUSOL.BITNET ) ****
================================================================================
Note 5.15 Monty Python 15 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 84 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< BISHOP.MP >-
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e*** The Dead Bishop on the Landing sketch ****
**** from Monty Python's Flying Circus. ****
**** Transcribed from tape by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86 ****
Mother: (turning off radio) liberal rubbish! Klaus!
Klaus: Yeah?
M: Whaddaya want with yer jugged fish?
K: 'Alibut.
M: The jugged fish IS 'alibut!
K: Well, what fish 'ave you got that isn't jugged?
M: Rabbit.
K: What, rabbit fish?
M: Uuh, yes...it's got fins....
K: Is it dead?
M: Well, it was coughin' up blood last night.
K: All right, I'll have the dead unjugged rabbit fish.
Voice over: One dead unjugged rabbit fish later:
K: (putting down his knife and fork) Well, that was really 'orrible.
M: Aaw, you're always complainin'!
K: Wha's for afters?
M: Rat cake, rat sorbet, rat pudding, or strawberry tart.
K: (eyes lighting up) Strawberry tart?
M: Well, it's got *some* rat in it.
K: 'Ow much?
M: Three. A lot, really.
K: Well, I'll have a slice without so much rat in it.
Voice over: One slice of strawberry tart without so much rat in it later:
K: (putting down fork and knife) Appalling.
M: Naw, naw, naw!
Son: (coming in the door) 'Ello Mum. 'Ello Dad.
K: 'Ello son.
S: There's a dead bishop on the landing, dad!
K: Really?
M: Where's it from?
S: Waddya mean?
M: What's its diocese?
S: Well, it looked a bit Bath and Wells-ish to me...
K: (getting up and going out the door) I'll go and have a look.
M: I don't know...kids bringin' 'em in here....
S: It's not me!
M: I've got three of 'em down by the bin, and the dustmen won't touch 'em!
K: (coming back in) Leicester.
M: 'Ow d'you know?
K: Tattooed on the back o' the neck. I'll call the police.
M: Shouldn't you call the church?
S: Call the church police!
K: All right. (shouting) THE CHURCH POLICE !!
(sirens racing up, followed by a tremendous crash)
(the church police burst in the door)
Detective What's all this then, Amen!
M: Are you the church police?
All the police officers: (in unison) Ho, Yes!
M: There's another dead bishop on the landing, Vicar Sargeant!
Detective: Uh, Detective Parson, madam. I see... suffrican, or diocisian?
M: 'Ow should I know?
D: It's tatooed on the back o' their neck.
(spying the tart) 'Ere, is that.... *rat tart*?
M: yes.
(pause)
D: Disgusting! Right! Men, the chase is on! Now we should all kneel!
(they all kneel)
All: O Lord, we beseech thee, tell us 'oo croaked Leicester!
(thunder)
Voice of the Lord: The one in the braces, 'e done it!
Klaus: It's a fair cop, but society's to blame.
Detective: Agreed. We'll be charging them too.
K: I'd like you to take the three by the bin into consideration.
D: Right. I'll now ask you all to conclude this harrest with a hymn.
All: All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The church has nigged them all.
Amen.
**** end of file BISHOP PYTHON 8/30/87 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.16 Monty Python 16 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 80 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< BLCKMAIL.MP >-
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**** BLACKMAIL!!!!! ****
**** Transcribed from "Monty Python Live at City Center 1974" by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86. ****
(Music up-- wild applause and cheers from the audience)
Announcer:
Hello! Hello! Hello! Thank you,thank you.
Hello good evening and welcome, to BLACKMAIL! Yes, it's another edition of
the game in which you can play with *yourself*. (applause)
And to start tonight's show, let's see our first contestant, all the way from
Manchester, on the big screen please: MRS. BETTY TEAL!
(applause, which suddenly stops when the clap track tape breaks)
'Ello, Mrs. Teal, lovely to have you on the show. Now Mrs. Teal, if you're
looking in tonight, this is for 15 pounds: and is to stop us from revealing
the name of your LOVER IN BOLTON!! So, Mrs. Teal, send us 15 pounds, by
return of post please, and your husband Trevor, and your lovely children
Diane, Janice, and Juliet, need never know the name... of your LOVER IN
BOLTON!
(applause; organ music. Shot of the organist, who has an afro and is stark
naked.)
Thank you Onan! And now: a letter, a hotel registration book, and a series of
photographs, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible
criminal proceedings for a company director in Bromsgrove. He's a freemason,
and a conservative M.P., so that's 3,000 pounds please Mr. S... thank you...
to stop us from revealing:
Your name,
The name of the three other people involved,
The youth organization to which they belonged,
and The shop where you bought the equipment!
(organ music)
But right now, yes everyone is the moment you've all been waiting for; it's
time for our Stop the Film spots! As you know, the rules are very simple. We
have taken a film which contains compromising scenes and unpleasant details
which could wreck a man's career. (gasp) But, the victim may 'phone me at
any moment, and stop the film. But remember the money increases as the film
goes on, so-o-o-o: the longer you leave it, the *more* you have to pay!
Tonight, Stop the Film visits the little Thames-side village of Thames Ditton.
(music--announcer's voice over)
Well, here we go, here we go now, let's see...where's our man.
Oh yes, there he is behind the tree now....
Mm, boy, this is fun, this is good fun....
He looks respectable, so we should be in for some real...real chucks here....
A member of the government, could be a brain surgeon, they're the worst....
wHOW! Look at the *size* of that.....briefcase.
Aah, yes, he's, he's up to the door, rung the doorbell now....
O-oh, who's the little number with the nightie and the whip, eh? Heh-heh.
Doesn't look like his mother....could be his sister....
If it is he's in real trouble....
And just look at that, they're upstairs already... whoah, boy, this is fun!
A very brave man, our contestant tonight.
Who-ho-ho!! This is no Tupperware party!
Very brave man, they don't usually get this far...
What's--what's that, what's she's doing to his.....is that a CHICKEN up
there? No, no, it's just the way she's holding the grapefruit... Whoah, ho
ho...
('Phone rings; buzzer goes off; film stops. Applause)
(picking up 'phone)
Hello sir...yes...aha-ha-ha...yes, just in time, sir, that was...what?
No, no, sir, it's alright, we don't morally censor, we just want the
money. Thank you sir, yes,....what? You.....okay....Thank you for playing the
game, sir, very nice indeed, okay....okay, see you tonight, Dad, bye-bye.
Well, that's all from this edition of Blackmail. Join me next week, same
time, same channel....Join me, two dogs, and a vicar, when we'll be playing
"Pedorasto", the game for all the family.
Thank you, thank you, thank you....
**** end of file BLCKMAIL PYTHON 8/30/87 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.17 Monty Python 17 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 33 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
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**** HOW YOUR BODY WORKS by A. NOTHER DOCTOR ****
**** Transcribed 2/28/88 from Monty Python's Brand New Papperbok ****
**** by Jonathan Partington (JR...@PHOENIX.CAMBRIDGE.AC.UK) ****
The human body is indeed a wonderul thing. Its infinitely complex way of
functioning would take a computer, working flat out, day and night, excluding
Bank Holidays and Christmas, 3,971 years to work out. The slightest flicker of
the eyelid, the smallest movement of the big toe, involves such extraordinarily
complex processes that the average man, working flat out, excluding Bank
Holidays and Christmas, but *including* weekends, would take 84,643 light years
to work it out. If you can imagine an Airedale terrier jumping in and out of a
watering can once every 7 minutes for 12 years you have some idea how long that
would take. And that's only one light year.
Even the most simple process that the body can perform -- like paying the
doctor -- would take a piece of asbestos over 9 billion years to work out. If
you can imagine a man at a cocktail party congratulating the hostess on the
avocado dip 40,000 times every second for 2 1/2 hours twice a week for 28,000
years you can begin to realise what an extraordinarily wonderful thing the
human body is.
To put it even more simply, if you can imagine a doctor leaving his lucrative
Harley St. practice to a younger partner, and cruising round the world 4 times
a year, drinking 3 bottles of champagne with a friend's wife every afternoon,
and writing an article on How Your Body Works once every 96 days, you'll get
some idea of why I was struck off the register. Good evening.
**** end of file BODY PYTHON 2/28/88 ****
From: JR...@PHOENIX.CAMBRIDGE.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.18 Monty Python 18 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 152 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
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**** The Bookshop Sketch ****
**** from "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl" ****
**** Transcribed from memory by Bret Shefter ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** who was in a weird mood (as usual) on 3/25/86. ****
**** Revisions by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86 ****
Customer: (entering the bookshop) Good morning.
Proprietor (John Cleese): Good morning, sir. Can I help you?
C: Er, yes. Do you have a copy of "Thirty Days in the Samarkind Desert with
the Duchess of Kent" by A. E. J. Eliott, O.B.E.?
P: Ah, well, I don't know the book, sir....
C: Er, never mind, never mind. How about "A Hundred and One Ways to
Start a Fight"?
P: ...By?
C: An Irish gentleman whose name eludes me for the moment.
P: Ah, no, well we haven't got it in stock, sir....
C: Oh, well, not to worry, not to worry. Can you help me with "David
Coperfield"?
P: Ah, yes, Dickens.
C: No....
P: (pause) I beg your pardon?
C: No, Edmund Wells.
P: I... *think* you'll find Charles Dickens wrote "David Copperfield", sir....
C: No, no, Dickens wrote "David Copperfield" with *two* Ps. This is
"David Coperfield" with *one* P by Edmund Wells.
P: "David Coperfield" with one P?
C: Yes, I should have said.
P: Yes, well in that case we don't have it.
C: (peering over counter) Funny, you've got a lot of books here....
P: (slightly perturbed) Yes, we do, but we don't have "David Coperfield"
with one P by Edmund Wells.
C: Pity, it's more thorough than the Dickens.
P: More THOROUGH?!?
C: Yes...I wonder if it might be worth a look through all your "David Copper-
field"s...
P: No, sir, all our "David Copperfield"s have two P's.
C: Are you quite sure?
P: Quite.
C: Not worth just looking?
P: Definitely not.
C: Oh...how 'bout "Grate Expectations"?
P: Yes, well we have that....
C: That's "G-R-A-T-E Expectations," also by Edmund Wells.
P: (pause) Yes, well in that case we don't have it. We don't have anything
by Edmund Wells, actually: he's not very popular.
C: Not "Knickerless Knickleby"? That's K-N-I-C-K-E-R-L-E-S-S.
P: (taciturn) No.
C: "Khristmas Karol" with a K?
P: (really quite perturbed) No....
C: Er, how about "A Sale of Two Titties"?
P: DEFINITELY NOT.
C: (moving towards door) Sorry to trouble you....
P: Not at all....
C: Good morning.
P: Good morning.
C: (turning around) Oh!
P: (deep breath) Yesss?
C: I wonder if you might have a copy of "Rarnaby Budge"?
P: No, as I say, we're right out of Edmund Wells!
C: No, not Edmund Wells - Charles Dikkens.
P: (pause - eagerly) Charles Dickens??
C: Yes.
P: (excitedly) You mean "Barnaby Rudge"!
C: No, "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens. That's Dikkens with two Ks, the
well-known Dutch author.
P: (slight pause) No, well we don't have "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens
with two Ks, the well-known Dutch author, and perhaps to save time I
should add that we don't have "Karnaby Fudge" by Darles Chickens, or
"Farmer of Sludge" by Marles Pickens, or even "Stickwick Stapers" by Farles
Wickens with four M's and a silent Q!!!!! Why don't you try W. H. Smith's?
C: Ah did, They sent me here.
P: DID they.
C: Oh, I wonder...
P: Oh, do go on, please.
C: Yes...I wonder if you might have "The Amazing Adventures of Captain Gladys
Stoutpamphlet and her Intrepid Spaniel Stig Amongst the Giant Pygmies of
Beckles"...volume eight.
P: (after a pause for recovery) No, we don't have that...funny, we've got a lot
of books here...well, I musn't keep you standing here...thank you,--
C: Oh, well do, do you have-- ---
P: No, we haven't. No, we haven't. |
C: B-b-b-but-- |
P: Sorry, no, it's one o'clock now, we're |
closing for lunch-- |
C: Ah, I--I saw it-- |-------loud arguments
P: I'm sorry-- |
C: I saw it over there! I saw it... |
P: What? What? WHAT?!? ---/
C: I saw it over there: "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds".
P: (pause; trying to stay calm) "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds"?
C: Yes...
P: O-L-S-E-N?
C: Yes....
P: B-I-R-D-S??
C: Yes.....
P: (beat) Yes, well, we do have that, as a matter of fact....
C: The expurgated version....
P: (pause; politely) I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that...?
C: The expurgated version.
P: (exploding) The EXPURGATED version of "Olsen's Standard Book of British
Birds"?!?!?!?!?
C: (desperately) The one without the gannet!
P: The one without the gannet-!!! They've ALL got the gannet!! It's a
Standard British Bird, the gannet, it's in all the books!!!
C: (insistent) Well, I don't like them...they wet their nests.
P: (furious) All right! I'll remove it!! (rrrip!) Any other birds you don't
like?!
C: I don't like the robin...
P: (screaming) The robin! Right! The robin! (rrrip!) There you are, any
others you don't like, any others?
C: The nuthatch?
P: Right! (flipping through the book) The nuthatch, the nuthatch, the
nuthatch, 'ere we are! (rrriiip!) There you are! NO gannets, NO robins,
NO nuthatches, THERE's your book!
C: (indignant) I can't buy that! It's torn!
P: (incoherent noise)
C: Ah, I wonder if you have--
P: God, ask me anything!! We got lots of books here, you know, it's a
bookshop!!
C: Er, how 'bout "Biggles Combs his Hair"?
P: No, no, we don't have that one, funny!
C: "The Gospel According to Charley Drake"?
P: No, no, no, try me again!
C: Ah...oh, I know! "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
P: No, no, no, no, no,...What? WHAT??????
C: "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
P: "Ethel the Aa--" YES!!!YES!!! WE'VE GOT IT!! (throwing books wildly about)
I-I've seen it somewhere!!! I know it!!! Hee hee hee hee hee!!! Ha ha hoo
ho---WAIT!! WAIT!! Is it?? Is it??? (triumphant) YES!!!!!! Here we are,
"Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying"!!!!! There's your book!!
(throwing it down) Now, BUY IT!!!
C: (quickly) I don't have enough money.
P: (desperate) I'll take a deposit!
C: I don't have ANY money!
P: I'll take a check!!
C: I don't have a checkbook!
P: I've got a blank one!!
C: I don't have a bank account!!
P: RIGHT!!!! I'll buy it FOR you! (ring) There we are, there's your change,
there's some money for a taxi on the way home, there's your book, now, now..
C: Wait, wait, wait!
P: What? What?!? WHAT?!? WHAT???!!
C: I can't read!!!
P: (staggeringly long pause; very quietly) You can't...read. (pause) RIGHT!!!
Sit down!! Sit down!! Sit!! Sit!! Are you sitting comfortably???
Right!!! (opens book) "Ethel the Aardvark was hopping down the river valley
one lovely morning, trottety-trottety-trottety, when she might a nice little
quantity surveyor..." (fade out)
**** end of file BOOKSHOP PYTHON 8/30/87 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.19 Monty Python 19 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 89 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< BRAINCEL.MP >-
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**** SPOT THE BRAINCELL (from Monty Python live at Drury Lane) ****
**** Transcribed 7/14/87 by Jonathan Partington ****
**** ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ). ****
(Banal intro music)
Ghastly Quizmaster (Cleese): Hello, good evening and welcome to the very final
edition of your favourite television quiz
programme Spot the Braincell. Thirty minutes of
cheerful ritual humiliation of the old and
greedy. And could we have our first contestant,
please!
(Piano chords. Hostess (Chapman in drag) escorts Old ratbag (Jones in drag)
onto stage.)
Quizmaster: Ha ha ha ... ha ha ha. Good evening, Madam! And your name is?
Ratbag: Yes, Michael.
Quizmaster: Ha ha ha! Jolly good -- and what is your name?
Ratbag: I go to church regularly.
Quizmaster: Ha ha ha, I see. And which particular prize do you have eyes for
this evening?
Ratbag: I'd like the blow on the head.
Quizmaster: The blow -- on the head!
Ratbag: Yes, just there, where it hurts.
Quizmaster: Jolly good! Well now Madam your first question for the blow on
the head this evening is: Which great opponent of Cartesian
dualism resists the reduction of psychological phenomena to a
physical state and insists there is no point of contact between the
extended and the unextended?
Ratbag: I don't know that.
Quizmaster: Well -- have a guess!
Ratbag: Oh... Henri Bergson?
Quizmaster: ...is the correct answer! (Piano chords)
Ratbag: Ooh, that was lucky. I never even heard of him.
Quizmaster: Ha ha ha!
Ratbag: I don't like darkies.
Quizmaster: Ha ha ha (maniacal cackle) She doesn't like darkies. Ha ha ha.
Who does? Ha ha ha! Well now, Mrs Scum, your second question for
the blow on the head is: What is the main food eaten by penguins?
What is the principal food that penguins eat?
Ratbag: Pork luncheon meat.
Quizmaster: No.
Ratbag: Spam.
Quizmaster: No, no, no, no. Penguins. Penguins.
Ratbag: Horses.
Quizmaster: No.
Ratbag: Armchairs.
Quizmaster: No, no. All right, take it easy. I'll give you a clue. (Does
fish impression, opening and closing mouth, puffing up face etc.)
Ratbag: Oh, I know, I know, I know! Brian Clough!
Quizmaster: No, ha ha, no.
Ratbag: Brian Johnstone.
Quizmaster: No.
Ratbag: Brian Inglis.
Quizmaster: No.
Ratbag: Brian Forbes.
Quizmaster: No, ha ha.
Ratbag: Nanette Newman.
Quizmaster: No, ha ha (cackles). No, now listen, I'll give you one more clue,
one more clue. What lives in the sea and gets caught in nets?
Ratbag: Goats.
Quizmaster: No.
Ratbag: Underwater goats with snorkels and flippers.
Quizmaster: No, no.
Ratbag: A buffalo with an aqualung.
Quizmaster: No.
Ratbag: Reginald Maudling.
Quizmaster: (Pause) Yes, that's near enough. I'll give you that. (Piano)
Right, now you have won tonight's star prize. Do you still want
the blow on the head?
Ratbag: Oh, yes please, Michael.
Quizmaster: (Deliberate Pause) I'm offering you a poke in the eye...
Ratbag: No no.
Quizmaster: All right then, a punch in the throat.
Ratbag: No.
Quizmaster: My very last offer Mrs Scum -- a knee in the temple and a dagger
up the clitoris! (Piano) (Audience cries of "Take the Money!"
etc)
Ratbag: That's very tempting, I've never had one up there before! No, I'll
still have the blow on the head.
Quizmaster: Right, the blow on the head. Mrs Scum, you have won tonight's
star prize, the blow on the (cackles) (16 ton weight falls on
Ratbag).
**** End of file BRAINCEL PYTHON 7/14/87 ****
**** From: JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ****
================================================================================
Note 5.20 Monty Python 20 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 37 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< BRIAN.MP >-
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**** The Opening Scene Song from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS10...@YUSOL.BITNET ) 4/27/86 ****
Brian...the babe they called Brian
Grew...grew grew and grew, grew up to be
A boy called Brian
A boy called Brian
He had arms and legs and hands and feet
This boy whose name was Brian
And he grew, grew, grew and grew
Grew up to be
Yes he grew up to be
A teenager called Brian
A teenager called Brian
And his face became spotty
Yes his face became spotty
And his voice dropped down low
And things started to grow
On young Brian and show
He was certainly no
No girl named Brian
Not a girl named Brian
And he started to shave
And have one off the wrist
And want to see girls
And go out and get pissed
This man called Brian
This man called Brian
**** End of file BRIAN PYTHON ****
**** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or ****
**** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... ****
**** Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS10...@YUSOL.BITNET ) ****
================================================================================
Note 5.21 Monty Python 21 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 149 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
-< BRIDGE.MP >-
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**** The Bridgekeeper Scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from memory by Bret Shefter '89 (SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET) ****
**** in yet another of his weird moods on 3/25/86 ****
**** Revised to 99.314156% accuracy with the tape by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson '89 (CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET) on 12/1/86. ****
**** This is transcript #14 in the film ****
**** and is continued, with a slight time lapse, from GRENADE PYTHON ****
Narrator: As the horrendous black beast lunged forward, escape for Arthur and
his knights seemed hopeless. When suddenly, the animator suffered a
fatal heart attack! The cartoon peril was no more. The quest for
the Holy Grail could continue.
( Arthur and his knights are hacking their way through thick underbrush
when suddenly... )
Arthur: There it is! The Bridge of Death!
Robin: (in despair) Oh, great.
Arthur: Look! There's the old man from Scene 24!
Bedevere: What is he doing here?
Arthur: He is the keeper of the Bridge of Death. He asks each traveller
five questions--
Galahad: Three questions--
Arthur: Three questions. He who answers the five questions--
Galahad: Three questions--
Arthur: (perturbed) --three questions, may cross in safety.
Robin: What if you get a question wrong?
Arthur: Then you are cast...into the Gorge of Eternal Peril!!!
Robin: Oh, I won't go!
Galahad: Who's going to answer the questions?
Arthur: Sir Robin!
Robin: (suprised) Yes?
Arthur: (continuing) Brave Sir Robin, you go.
(pause)
Robin: Hey...I've got a great idea! Why doesn't Launcelot go?
Launcelot: Yes, let me go, my liege. I will take it singlehanded.
(about to draw sword) I shall make a feint to the North-East, and
then--
Arthur: No, no, no... hang on, hang on, hang on!
*Just* answer the five questions--
Galahad: Three questions--
Arthur: Three questions as best you can, and we shall watch. And pray.
Launcelot: (sheathing sword) I understand, my liege.
Arthur: Good luck, brave Sir Launcelot! God be with you!
(Launcelot approaches the bridge. Suddenly, the BRIDGEKEEPER speaks. )
Bridgekeeper: (cackling nastily)
STOP!
Who would cross the Bridge of Death
Must answer me
These questions three
Ere the other side he see.
Launcelot: (stoically) Ask me your questions, Bridgekeeper. I am not afraid!
Bridgekeeper: (cackling all the while) What...is your name?
Lancelot: My name is Sir Lancelot of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your quest?
Lancelot: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your favorite color?
Lancelot: Blue.
Bridgekeeper: Right, off you go.
(pause)
Lancelot: (realizing that was it) Oh, thank you. Thank you very much!
(and off he goes. The knights look at each other.)
Robin: That's EASY!!!
(A mad rush for the bridge. Robin arrives first. The knights cluster behind.
A few sniff and wrinkle their noses, and the group backs off.)
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
Who approacheth the Bridge of Death
Must answer me
These questions three
Ere the other side he see.
Robin: (excitedly) Ask me the questions, Bridgekeeper, I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your name?
Robin: Sir Robin of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What...is you quest?
Robin: To seek the Holy Grail!
Bridgekeeper: What...is the capital of Assyria?
(pause)
Robin: (indignant) I don't know THAT!! (An unseen force whisks him up and over
the side.) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
(The knights pause, realizing this may be a bit tougher than all that.)
**** Note: The following bit was cut from the movie. ****
Bedevere: What shall we do, sire?
Arthur: Well, I'm not sure, but...
Bridgekeeper: (off) What...goes black, white, black, white, black, white?
Sir Gawain: (off) Uh...er...ah...Babylon? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
**** Movie resumes. ****
( Galahad approaches the bridge. )
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
What...is your name?
Galahad: Sir Galahad of Camelot!
Bridgekeeper: What...is your quest?
Galahad: I seek the Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your favorite color?
Galahad: (relieved) Blue! (starts across; oops) No! YELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWW!!!!
(Arthur steps forward... the Bridgekeeper cackles some more.)
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
Bridgekeeper: What...is *your* name?
Arthur: It is Arthur, King of the Britons!
Bridgekeeper: What...is your quest?
Arthur: To seek the Holy Grail!
Bridgekeeper: What...is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
Arthur: (brief pause) What do you mean, an African or European swallow?
Bridgekeeper: (confused) Huh? What? I...I don't know that...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGHHHHHHH!
(he is thrown into the Gorge of Eternal Peril.)
Arthur crosses the bridge.
Bedevere: (crossing behind Arthur) How do you know so much about swallows?
Arthur: Well, you have to know these sorts of things when you're a
king, you know...
**** Note: The following bit was *also* cut from the movie. ****
(Arthur and Bedevere approach a gigantic lake.
A boat in the shape of a dragon glides slowly
towards them. As they prepare to cross, the
same old man suddenly appears before them.)
Boat-keeper: STOP!
He who would cross the Sea of Fate
Must answer me these questions twenty-eight!
(Arthur and Bedevere look at each other. They look at the old man. They look
back at each other. They pick the old man up, throw him in the water, and
board the ship.)
**** Here ends the bit that was cut from the movie, and with it the ****
**** file BRIDGE PYTHON, transcript #14 from the film, ****
**** and with IT, the MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL transcript series. ****
================================================================================
Note 5.22 Monty Python 22 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 59 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:53
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**** ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE ****
**** from Monty Python's "Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed by Mark Johnson ( ma...@sunybcs.BITNET ) ****
Cheer up, Brian. You know what they say.
Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad.
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle,
Don't grumble, give a wistle!
And this'll help things turn out for the best...
And...
(the music fades into the song)
..always look on the bright side of life!
(whistle)
Always look on the bright side of life...
If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten!
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing,
When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps,
Just purse your lips and whistle -- that's the thing!
And... always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)
Come on!
(other start to join in)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)
For life is quite absurd,
And death's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow!
Forget about your sin -- give the audience a grin,
Enjoy it -- it's the last chance anyhow!
So always look on the bright side of death!
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it.
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true,
You'll see it's all a show,
Keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you!
And always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)
Always look on the bright side of life
(whistle)
**** end of file BRIGHT PYTHON ****
================================================================================
Note 5.23 Monty Python 23 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 104 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:54
-< BRUCE.MP >-
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**** The Bruces ****
**** From Monty Python Live at City Center, ****
**** Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl, etc. ****
**** Transcribed by EP50...@YALEVM.BITNET , 4/86 ****
Notes from the Transcriber:
"Abbos" is derisive slang for the aborigones.
"Pommeyland" is England.
"Poofters" are homosexuals.
G'day, Bruce!
Oh, Hello Bruce!
How are you Bruce?
A bit crooked, Bruce.
Where's Bruce?
He's not 'ere, Bruce.
Blimey, it's hot in here, Bruce.
Hot enough to boil a monkey's bum!
That's a strange expression, Bruce.
Well Bruce, I heard the Prime Minister use it. "It's hot enough to boil
a monkey's bum in here, your Majesty," he said and she smiled quietly
to herself.
She's a good Sheila Bruce, and not at all stuck up.
Here! Here's the boss-fellow now!
'Ow are you, Bruce?
G'day Bruce!
Bruce.
Hello Bruce.
Bruce.
How are you, Bruce?
G'day Bruce.
Gentleman, I'd like to introduce man from Pommeyland who is joinin'
us this year in the philosophy department at the University of
Walamaloo.
(Everyone) G'day!
Hello.
Michael Baldwin, Bruce. Michael Baldwin, Bruce. Michael Baldwin, Bruce.
Is your name not Bruce?
No, it's Michael.
That's going to cause a little confusion.
Mind if we call you "Bruce" to keep it clear?
Gentlemen, I think we better start the faculty meeting. Before we start,
though, I'd like to ask the padre for a prayer.
Oh Lord, we beseech Thee, Amen!!
Amen!
Crack two! (Bottles opening)
Now I call upon Bruce to officially welcome Mr. Baldwin to the
philosophy faculty.
I'd like to welcome the pommey bastard to God's own Earth, and remind
him that we don't like stuck-up sticky-bates here.
(Everyone) Hear, hear! Well spoken, Bruce!
Bruce here teaches classical philosophy, Bruce there teaches Haegelian
philosophy, and Bruce here teaches logical positivism. And is also
in charge of the sheep dip.
What's New-Bruce going to teach?
New-Bruce will be teaching political science, Machiavelli, Benton,
Lockholm, Sackly, Millbo, Hasset, and Bernerd.
Those are all cricketers!
Aww, spit!
Hails of derisive laughter, Bruce!
(Everyone) Australia, Australia, Australia, Australia, we love you
amen!
Another two! (Bottles opening)
Any questions?
New-Bruce, are you a Poofter?
Are you a Poofter?
No!
No. Right, I just want to remind you of the faculty rules:
Rule One! (Everyone) No Poofters!
Rule Two, no member of the faculty is to maltreat the Abbos in any
way at all -- if there's anybody watching.
Rule Three? (Everyone) No Poofters!!
Rule Four, now this term, I don't want to catch anybody not drinking.
Rule Five, (Everyone) No Poofters!
Rule Six, there is NO ... Rule Six.
Rule Seven, (Everyone) No Poofters!!
Right, that concludes the readin' of the rules, Bruce.
This here's the wattle, the emblem of our land. You can stick it in
a bottle, you can hold it in your hand.
Amen!
<And now all four Bruces launch into the Philosopher's song>
Immanuel Kant was a real piss-ant who was very rarely stable.
Heideggar, Heideggar was a boozy beggar who could
think you under the table.
David Hume could out-consume Schopenhauer and Hegel.
And Whittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as sloshed as Schlegel.
There's nothing Nieizsche couldn't teach 'ya 'bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.
John Stewart Mill, of his own free will, after half a pint of shanty was
particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away, 'alf a crate of whiskey every day!
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
And Hobbes was fond of his Dram.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart:
"I drink, therefore I am."
Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed;
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he's pissed.
**** end of file BRUCE PYTHON 4/86 ****
================================================================================
Note 5.24 Monty Python 24 of 96
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**** The Man With Three Buttocks sketch ****
**** From Monty Python's Flying Circus ****
**** Transcribed 10/5/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
**** especially for the BBoard collection of Python Files @YALEVM ****
Eric Idle: And now for something completely different. A man with three
buttocks!
Host (John Cleese): I have with me Mr Arthur Frampton who... (pause)
Mr. Frampton, I understand that you - um - as it were...
(pause) Well let me put it another way. Erm, I believe
that whereas most people have - er - two... Two.
Frampton (Michael Palin): Oh, sure.
Host: Ah well, er, Mr Frampton. Erm, is that chair comfortable?
Frampton: Fine, yeah, fine.
Host: Mr Frampton, er, vis a vis your... (pause) rump.
Frampton: I beg your pardon?
Host: Your rump.
Frampton: What?
Host: Er, your derriere. (Whispers) Posterior. Sit-upon.
Frampton: What's that?
Host (whispers): Your buttocks.
Frampton: Oh, me bum!
Host (hurriedly): Sshhh! Well now, I understand that you, Mr Frampton, have
a... (pause) 50% bonus in the region of what you say.
Frampton: I got three cheeks.
Host: Yes, yes, excellent, excellent. Well we were wondering, Mr Frampton,
if you could see your way clear to giving us a quick... (pause) a
quick visual... (long pause). Mr Frampton, would you take your
trousers down.
Frampton: What? (to cameramen) 'Ere, get that away! I'm not taking me
trousers down on television. What do you think I am?
Host: Please take them down.
Frampton: No!
Host: No, er look, er Mr Frampton. It's quite easy for somebody just to
come along here claiming... that they have a bit to spare in the
botty department. The point is, our viewers need proof.
Frampton: I been on Persian Radio, and the Forces' Network!
**** end of file BUTTOCKS PYTHON 12/2/87 M.M.D. ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.25 Monty Python 25 of 96
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**** The Song of the Knights of Camelot ****
**** from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** transcribed from tape by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86 ****
**** This is transcript #6 from the movie ****
**** (film continued from WITCH PYTHON) ****
Launcelot: Look, my liege!
(fanfare)
Launcelot: Camelot!
Robin: Camelot!
Galahad: Camelot!
Patsy: (whispered) It's only a model.
Galahad: Shh!
Arthur: Knights, I bid you welcome to your new home. Let us ride...to
CAMELOT!
song:
We're knights of the round table, we dance whene're we're able.
We do routines, and border scenes, with footwork imp-e-cable;
We dine well here in Camelot, we eat ham and jam and spamalot.
We're knights of the round table, our shows are for-mid-able
Though many times, we're given rhymes, that are quite un-sing-able
We're not so bad in Camelot, we sing from the Dia-phragm alot!
Though we're tough and able,
Quite in-de-fa-ti-gable,
Between our quests, we seek incest and impersonate Clark Gable,
It's a busy life in Camelot:
I have to push the pram-a-lot!
Arthur: On second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place.
Others: Right, right....
**** continued in GRAIL PYTHON, file #7 from the movie ****
**** end of file CAMELOT PYTHON 4/3/86 M.M.D. ****
================================================================================
Note 5.26 Monty Python 26 of 96
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**** Burying the cat, from the 3rd series of Monty Python ****
**** Transcribed 8/15/87 by ****
**** Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
Mrs. Conclusion (Chapman): Hullo, Mrs. Premise.
Mrs. Premise (Cleese): Hullo, Mrs. Conclusion.
Conclusion: Busy Day?
Premise: Busy? I just spent four hours burying the cat.
Conclusion: *Four hours* to bury a cat?
Premise: Yes - it wouldn't keep still.
Conclusion: Oh - it wasn't dead, then?
Premise: No, no - but it's not at all well, so as we were going to be on the
safe side.
Conclusion: Quite right - you don't want to come back from Sorrento to a dead
cat. It'd be so anticlimactic. Yes, kill it now, that's what I
say. We're going to have to have our budgie put down.
Premise: Really - is it very old?
Conclusion: No, we just don't like it. We're going to take it to the vet
tomorrow.
Premise: Tell me, how do they put budgies down, then?
Conclusion: Well, it's funny you should ask that, because I've just been
reading a great big book about how to put your budgie down, and
apparently you can either hit them with the book, or you can shoot
them just there, just above the beak.
Premise: Just there? Well, well, well. 'Course, Mrs Essence flushed hers
down the loo.
Conclusion: No, you shouldn't do that - no, that's dangerous. They *breed* in
the *sewers*!
**** End of file CAT PYTHON ****
**** From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ****
================================================================================
Note 5.27 Monty Python 27 of 96
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From: Jnet%"ED@BCVMS" "Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise." 18-DEC-1989 19:18:49.33
To: Bruce Wilson <BEW...@TAMVENUS.BITNET>
CC:
Subj: <M_Python 172> "Always look on the Bright Side of Life"
Received: From UHUPVM1(MAILER) by TAMVENUS with Jnet id 2172
for BEW4568@TAMVENUS; Mon, 18 Dec 89 19:18 CST
Received: by UHUPVM1 (Mailer X1.24) id 2170; Mon, 18 Dec 89 19:17:27 CST
Subject: <M_Python 172> "Always look on the Bright Side of Life"
To: Bruce Wilson <BEW...@TAMVENUS.BITNET>
From: "Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise." <ED@BCVMS>
Sender: "M_Python discussion" <UMNEWS@MAINE>
Reply-To: "M_Python discussion" <UMNEWS@MAINE>
Date: Monday, 18 Dec 1989 20:13:47 EST
"Always Look on the Bright Side of Life"
Criminal on Cross: "Cheer up Brian."
(Guitar starts playing).
Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad.
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life grissle,
Don't grumble, give a whistle.
And this'll mhelp things turn out for the best.
An'...
Always look on the bright side of life,
(whistle, etc.)
Always look on the light side of life,
(whistle, etc.)
If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten,
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feelin' in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps.
Just purse your lips and whislte, that's the thing.
Always look on the bright side of life,
(whistle, etc.)
Always look on the bright side of life,
(whistle, etc.)
For life is quite obserd,
And death's the final word,
You must always face the curtain with the bad
Forget about your sin,
Give the audience a grin,
Enjoy it, it's the last chance that ya have.
Always look on the bright side of death.
(whistle, etc.)
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
(whistle, etc.)
Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it,
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show,
People laughin' as you go,
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.
Always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the right side of life.
Come on Brian, cheer up.
Always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the bright side of life.
================================================================================
Note 5.28 Monty Python 28 of 96
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**** The Cheese Shop Sketch ****
**** Transcribed from "The Instant Monty Python Record Collection" ****
**** by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/4/86 ****
**** Spelling corrected by Burr ( WE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) to the best of ****
**** his ad hoc abilities ****
*** The Cheese Shoppe ***
(a customer walks in the door.)
Customer: Good Morning.
Owner: Good morning, Sir. Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium!
Customer: Ah, thank you, my good man.
Owner: What can I do for you, Sir?
C: Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmon Street just now,
skimming through "Rogue Herrys" by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over
all peckish.
O: Peckish, sir?
C: Esuriant.
O: Eh?
C: 'Ee, Ah wor 'ungry-loike!
O: Ah, hungry!
C: In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, "a little fermented curd will do
the trick," so, I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and
infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy
comestibles!
O: Come again?
C: I want to buy some cheese.
O: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bazouki player!
C: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations of the
Terpsichorean muse!
O: Sorry?
C: 'Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, 'yer forced too!
O: So he can go on playing, can he?
C: Most certainly! Now then, some cheese please, my good man.
O: (lustily) Certainly, sir. What would you like?
C: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.
O: I'm, a-fraid we're fresh out of red Leicester, sir.
C: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
O: I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it
fresh on Monday.
C: Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly, if
you please.
O: Ah! It's beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks. Was expecting it this
morning.
C: 'T's Not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Bel Paese?
O: Sorry, sir.
C: Red Windsor?
O: Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
C: Ah. Stilton?
O: Sorry.
C: Ementhal? Gruyere?
O: No.
C: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.
O: No.
C: Lipta?
O: No.
C: Lancashire?
O: No.
C: White Stilton?
O: No.
C: Danish Brew?
O: No.
C: Double Goucester?
O: <pause> No.
C: Cheshire?
O: No.
C: Dorset Bluveny?
O: No.
C: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Port Salut, Savoy Aire, Saint Paulin, Carrier
de lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson?
O: No.
C: Camenbert, perhaps?
O: Ah! We have Camenbert, yessir.
C: (suprised) You do! Excellent.
O: Yessir. It's..ah,.....it's a bit runny...
C: Oh, I like it runny.
O: Well,.. It's very runny, actually, sir.
C: No matter. Fetch hither the fromage de la Belle France! Mmmwah!
O: I...think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it, sir.
C: I don't care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over with all speed.
O: Oooooooooohhh........! <pause>
C: What now?
O: The cat's eaten it.
C: <pause> Has he.
O: She, sir.
(pause)
C: Gouda?
O: No.
C: Edam?
O: No.
C: Case Ness?
O: No.
C: Smoked Austrian?
O: No.
C: Japanese Sage Darby?
O: No, sir.
C: You...do *have* some cheese, don't you?
O: (brightly) Of course, sir. It's a cheese shop, sir. We've got--
C: No no... don't tell me. I'm keen to guess.
O: Fair enough.
C: Uuuuuh, Wensleydale.
O: Yes?
C: Ah, well, I'll have some of that!
O: Oh! I thought you were talking to me, sir.
Mister Wensleydale, that's my name.
(pause)
C: Greek Feta?
O: Uh, not as such.
C: Uuh, Gorgonzola?
O: no
C: Parmesan,
O: no
C: Mozarella,
O: no
C: Paper Cramer,
O: no
C: Danish Bimbo,
O: no
C: Czech sheep's milk,
O: no
C: Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?
O: Not *today*, sir, no.
(pause)
C: Aah, how about Cheddar?
O: Well, we don't get much call for it around here, sir.
C: Not much ca--It's the single most popular cheese in the world!
O: Not 'round here, sir.
C: <slight pause> and what IS the most popular cheese 'round hyah?
O: 'Illchester, sir.
C: IS it.
O: Oh, yes, it's staggeringly popular in this manusquire.
C: Is it.
O: It's our number one best seller, sir!
C: I see. Uuh...'Illchester, eh?
O: Right, sir.
C: All right. Okay.
'Have you got any?' he asked, expecting the answer 'no'.
O: I'll have a look, sir...
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno.
C: It's not much of a cheese shop, is it?
O: Finest in the district!
C: (annoyed) Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
O: Well, it's so clean, sir!
C: It's certainly uncontaminated by cheese....
O: (brightly) You haven't asked me about Limburger, sir.
C: Would it be worth it?
O: Could be....
C: Have you --SHUT THAT BLOODY BAZOUKI OFF!
O: Told you sir....
C: (slowly) Have you got any Limburger?
O: No.
C: Figures.
Predictable, really I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have
posed the question in the first place. Tell me:
O: Yessir?
C: (deliberately) Have you in fact got any cheese here at all.
O: Yes,sir.
C: Really?
(pause)
O: No. Not really, sir.
C: You haven't.
O: Nosir. Not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your time,sir.
C: Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shoot you.
O: Right-0, sir.
The customer takes out a gun and shoots the owner.
C: What a *senseless* waste of human life.
**** end of file CHEESHOP PYTHON ****
================================================================================
Note 5.29 Monty Python 29 of 96
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**** AN ATHIEST'S SUNDAY BRUNCH ( file CHURCH PYTHON ) ****
**** Transcribed from Monty Python's "Contractual Obligations" Album ****
**** by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ), May 1986 ****
**** uploaded to CMS January 1987 ****
(Sound: Church bells, lots of them, ringing.)
Man: I wish those bloody bells would stop.
Wife: Oh, it's quite nice dear, it's Sunday, it's the church.
M: What about us atheists? Why should we 'ave to listen to that
sectarian turmoil?
W: You're a lapsed atheist, dear.
M: The principle's the same. The Mohmedans don't come 'round here
wavin' bells at us! We don't get Buddhists playing bagpipes in our
bathroom! Or Hindus harmonizing in the hall! The Shintus don't
come here shattering sheet glass in the shithouse, shouting slogans-
W: All right, don't practice your alliteration on me.
M: Anyway, when I membership card and blazer badge back from the
League of Agnostics, I shall urge the executive to lodge a protest
against that religious racket! Pass the butter knife!
W: WHAT??
M: PASS THE BUTTER KNIFE!! (pause) THANK YOU! IF ONLY WE HAD SOME
KIND OF MISSILE!
W: 'OLD ON, I'LL CLOSE THE WINDOW.
M: WHAT?!
W: I SAID, I'LL CLOSE THE WINDOW!
(Sound: Window closing, bells get faint, but are still there)
M: If only we had some kind of missile, we could take the steam out
of those bells.
W: Well, you could always use the number 14-St. Joseph-the-somewhat-
divine-on-the-hill ballistic missile. It's in the attic.
M: What ballistic missile would this be, then?
(Sound: Bells begin to get increasingly louder)
W: I made it for you, it's your birthday present!
M: Just what I wanted, 'ow nice of you to remember, my pet.
'ERE!
W: WHAT?
M: THOSE BELLS ARE GETTING LOUDER!
W: WHAT?
M: THOSE BELLS ARE GETTING LOUDER!!
W: THE BELLS ARE GETTING LOUDER! OOOH, LOOK!
M: WHAT?
W: THE CHURCH, IT.. ITS COMING CLOSER! ITS COMING DOWN THE 'ILL!
M: WHAT A LIBERTY!
W: ITS TURNING INTO OUR LANE! WELL, YOU BETTER GO PUT IT OUT OF
IT'S MISERY.
M: WHERE'S THIS MISSILE, THEN?
W: IT'S IN THE ATTIC. PRESS THE BUTTON MARKED CHURCH!
M: 'OW DO I AIM IT?
W: IT AUTOMATICALLY HOMES IN ON THE NEAREST PLACE OF WORSHIP!
M: BUT THAT'S ST. MARKS!
W: IT ISN'T NOW, LOOK!! OH, ITS OP'NING THE GATE.
M: WHAT? USE THE MEGAPHONE!
W: IT'S OP'NING THE GATE!! 'HURRY UP, ITS TRAMPLING OVER THE AZALIAS!
(Sound: Missle launch, explosion, bells diminish)
M: Did I 'it it?
W: Yes, right up the aisle.
M: Well I've always said, There's nothing an agnostic can't do if
he really doesn't know whether he believes in anything or not.
**** end of CHURCH PYTHON ****
================================================================================
Note 5.30 Monty Python 30 of 96
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**** CINEMA PYTHON - television interview with Sir Edward Ross ****
**** From the first series of Monty Python's Flying Circus. ****
**** Transcribed 11/06/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
Eric Idle: Good evening and welcome to another edition of It's the Arts. And
we kick off this evening with Cinema.
Host (John Cleese): Good evening. One of the most prolific film directors of
this age, or indeed of any age, is Sir Edward Ross, back
in his native country for the first time for five years
to open a season of his works at the National Film
Theatre, and we are indeed fortunate to have him with us
in this studio tonight.
Ross (Graham Chapman): Good evening.
Host: Edward... you don't mind if I call you Edward?
Ross: No, not at all.
Host: Because it does worry some people - I don't know why - but they are a
little sensitive so I take the precaution of asking on these occasions.
Ross: No, that's fine.
Host: So Edward's all right. Splendid. I'm sorry to have brought it up.
Ross: No, no, please. Edward it is.
Host: Well thank you very much for being so helpful. And it's more than my
job's worth to, er...
Ross: Yes, quite.
Host: Makes it rather difficult to establish a rapport - put the other person
at his ease...
Ross: Quite.
Host: Silly little point but it does seem to matter. Still, er, least said
the better. Ted, when you first started you... I hope you don't mind
if I call you Ted, er, I mean as opposed to Edward?
Ross: No, no, everyone calls me Ted.
Host: Well of course it's shorter, isn't it.
Ross: Yes it is.
Host: And much less formal!
Ross: Yes, Ted, Edward or anything!
Host: Thank you. Um, incidentally, do call me Tom. I don't want you bothering
with this 'Thomas' nonsense! Ha ha ha ha! Now where were we? Ah yes.
Eddie Baby, when you first started in the...
Ross: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I don't like being called "Eddie Baby".
Host: What?
Ross: I don't like being called "Eddie Baby".
Host: (pause) Did I call you "Eddie Baby"?
Ross: Yes, you did! Now if you could get on with the interview...
Host: I don't think I did call you "Eddie Baby".
Ross: You did!
Host: Did I call him "Eddie Baby"?
(Audience murmurs of 'yes' etc.)
Host: I didn't really call you "Eddie Baby", did I, sweetie?
Ross: Don't call me "sweetie"!
Host: Can I call you "sugar plum"?
Ross: No.
Host: "Pussycat"?
Ross: No!
Host: "Angel drawers"?
Ross: No you may not! Get on with it!
Host: Can I call you "Frank"?
Ross (suspiciously): Why "Frank"?
Host: It's a nice name. Richard Nixon's got a hedgehog called Frank.
Ross: What IS going on?
Host: Now Frank -- Fran -- Frannie -- little Frannie-pooh...
Ross: No. I'm leaving. I'm off. I'm going. I've never... (exits)
Host (loudly): Tell us about your latest film, Sir Edward.
Ross (nearly offstage): What?
Host: Tell us about your latest film, Sir Edward, if you'd be so very kind.
Ross: None of this "Pussycat" nonsense?
Host: Promise. (Pats seat next to him.) Please, Sir Edward.
Ross: My latest film?
Host: Yes, Sir Edward.
Ross: Well the idea, funnily enough, is based on an idea I had when I first
joined the industry in 1919. Of course, in those days I was only the
tea boy and...
Host: Oh shut up!
**** end of file CINEMA PYTHON 11/30/87 M.M.D. ****
**** continued in TWOSHEDS PYTHON. ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.31 Monty Python 31 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 85 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:54
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**** Stake your Claim ****
**** from "Monty Python's Previous Record" ****
**** Transcribed 9/17/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
Game Show Host (John Cleese): Good evening and welcome to Stake Your Claim.
First this evening we have Mr Norman Voles of
Gravesend who claims he wrote all Shakespeare's
works. Mr Voles, I understand you claim that
you wrote all those plays normally attributed to
Shakespeare?
Voles (Michael Palin): That is correct. I wrote all his plays and my wife and I
wrote his sonnets.
Host: Mr Voles, these plays are known to have been performed in the
early 17th century. How old are you, Mr Voles?
Voles: 43.
Host: Well, how is it possible for you to have written plays
performed over 300 years before you were born?
Voles: Ah well. This is where my claim falls to the ground.
Host: Ah!
Voles: There's no possible way of answering that argument, I'm
afraid. I was only hoping you would not make that particular
point, but I can see you're more than a match for me!
Host: Mr Voles, thank you very much for coming along.
Voles: My pleasure.
Host: Next we have Mr Bill Wymiss who claims to have built the Taj
Mahal.
Wymiss (Eric Idle): No.
Host: I'm sorry?
Wymiss: No. No.
Host: I thought you cla...
Wymiss: Well I did but I can see I won't last a minute with you.
Host: Next...
Wymiss: I was right!
Host: ... we have Mrs Mittelschmerz of Dundee who cla... Mrs
Mittelschmerz, what is your claim?
Mittelschmerz (Graham Chapman in drag): That I can burrow through an elephant.
Host: (Pause) Now you've changed your claim, haven't you. You know
we haven't got an elephant.
Mittelschmerz: (Insincerely) Oh, haven't you? Oh dear!
Host: You're not fooling anybody, Mrs Mittelschmerz. In your letter
you quite clearly claimed that ... er ... you could be thrown off
the top of Beachy Head into the English Channel and then be
buried.
Mittelschmerz: No, you can't read my writing.
Host: It's typed.
Mittelschmerz: It says 'elephant'.
Host: Mrs Mittelschmerz, this is an entertainment show, and I'm not
prepared to simply sit here bickering. Take her away, Heinz!
Mittelschmerz: Here, no, leave me alone!
(Sound of wind and sea).
Mittelschmerz: Oooaaahh! (SPLOSH)
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
Note 5.32 Monty Python 32 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 48 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:54
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**** THE DECOMPSING COMPOSERS ****
**** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album ****
**** transcribed May, 1986 and uploaded to CMS January 1987 ****
**** by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ) ****
Beethoven's gone, but his music lives on,
And Mozart don't go shopping no more.
You'll never meet Lizst or Brahms again,
And Elgar doesn't answer the door.
Schubert and Chopin used to chuckle and laugh,
Whilst composing a long symphony.
But one hundred and fifty years later,
There's very little of them left to see.
The decomposing composers,
There's not much anyone can do.
You can still hear Beethoven,
But Beethoven cannot hear you.
Handel and Haydn and Rachmaninoff
Enjoyed a nice drink with their meal.
But nowadays no one will serve them,
And their gravy is left to congeal.
Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds
With their highly original sounds.
The pianos they play are still working,
But they're both six feet underground.
The decomposing composers,
There's less of them every year.
You can say what you like to
But there's not much of them left to hear.
Claude Akil Debussy. Died, 1918.
Christof Viliborg Kralk. Died, 1787.
Carl Maria von Weber. Not at all well, 1825.
Died, 1826.
Giacommo Meiabier. Still alive, 1863.
Not still alive, 1864.
Modest Mussorgsky. 1880, going to parties.
No fun anymore, 1881.
Johann Neopok Hummel. Chattin' away 19 'an a dozen with his friends down at
the Pub every evenin', 1836.
1837, nothing.
================================================================================
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**** the Contradiction sketch ****
**** from "Monty Python's Previous Record" ****
**** Transcribed 9/17/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
Host (John Cleese): With me now is Norman St. John Polevaulter, who for the
last few years has been contradicting people. St. John
Polevaulter, why do you contradict people?
Polevaulter (Graham Chapman): I don't!
Host: But you... you told me that you did.
Polevaulter: I most certainly did not!
Host: Oh. I see. I'll start again.
Polevaulter: No you won't!
Host: Ssh! I understand you don't contradict people.
Polevaulter: Yes I do!
Host: And when didn't you start contradicting them?
Polevaulter: I did! In 1952!
Host: 1952.
Polevaulter: 1947!
Host: 23 years ago.
Polevaulter: No!
<GONG>
**** end of file CONTRA PYTHON 9/19/87 ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
================================================================================
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**** THE MEN'S-BEING-EATEN-BY-A-CROCODILE CONTEST ****
**** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album ****
**** transcribed May, 1986 and uploaded to CMS January 1987 ****
**** by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ) ****
(Background music: Sportscast intro)
Newscaster: And right now it's time for athletics, and over to Brian
Goebells in Paris.
Goebells: Hello, well you join us here in Paris just a few minutes before the
start of today's big event: the final of the Men's-Being-Eaten-
By-A-Crocodile event. I'm standing now by the crocodile pit where-
AAAAAAHHHHH!
(FX: Crocodiles eating, French exclamations and sirens)
Newscaster: Ah. Well I'm afraid that we've lost Brian. While they're sorting
that out, we have a report from Barry Loothesom in Lughtborrow on
the British preparations for this most important event.
Loothesom: Here at Lughtborrow are the five young men chosen last week to be
eaten by a crocodile for Britain this summer. Obviously, the most
important part of the event is the opening 60 yard sprint towards
the crocs. And twenty-two year old Nottingham schoolteacher Gavin
Watterlow is rated by some not only the fastest but also the
tastiest British morsel since Barry Gordon got a bronze at
Helsinki. In charge of the team is Sergeant Major Harold Duke.
Duke: Aww, well, you not only got to get in that pit first, you gotta
get EATEN first. When you land in front of your croc, and 'e opens
his mouth, I wanna see you right in there. Rub your 'ead up
against 'is taste buds. And when those teeth bite into your flesh,
use the perches to thrust yourself DOWN his throat...
Loothesom: Duke's trained with every British team since 1928, and it's his
blend of gymnastic knowhow, reptilian expertise and culinary skill
that's turned many an un-appetizing novice into a crocodilic
banquet.
Duke: Well, our chefs have been experimenting for many years to find
a sauce most likely to tempt the crocodile. In the past, we've
concentrated on a fish based sauce, but this year, we are reverting
to a simple bernaise.
Loothesom: The British team are worried because Olympic regulations allow
only the competitor's heads to be sauced. Gavin Morolowe...
Morolowe: Yes, well, I mean, (clears throat) you know, four years ago,
everyone knew the Italians were coating the insides of their legs
with bolinaise, the Russians have been marinating themselves, One
of the Germans, Biolek, was caught actually putting, uh, remolarde
down his shorts. And the Finns were using tomato flavoured running
shoes. Uh, I think there should either be unrestricted garnishing,
or a single, Olympic standard mayonnaise.
Loothesom: Gavin, does it ever worry you that you're actually going to be
chewed up by a bloody, grey crocodile.
Morolowe: The only thing that worries me, Jim, is being the first one down
that gully.
Loothesom: Well, the way things are going here at Lughtborrow, it looks as
though Britan could easily pick up a place in the first seven
hundred. But nothing's predictable in this tough, harsh, highly
competitive world where today's champion is tomorrow's crocodile
shit. And back to you, in the studio, Norman.
**** end of file CROC PYTHON 9/20/87 ****
================================================================================
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From: Jnet%"22433177@VUVAXCOM" 18-DEC-1989 12:49:13.72
To: Bruce Wilson <BEW...@TAMVENUS.BITNET>
CC:
Subj: <M_Python 169> Whizzo Choc. Factory
Received: From UHUPVM1(MAILER) by TAMVENUS with Jnet id 4294
for BEW4568@TAMVENUS; Mon, 18 Dec 89 12:49 CST
Received: by UHUPVM1 (Mailer X1.24) id 4288; Mon, 18 Dec 89 12:47:29 CST
Subject: <M_Python 169> Whizzo Choc. Factory
To: Bruce Wilson <BEW...@TAMVENUS.BITNET>
From: 22433177@VUVAXCOM
Sender: "M_Python discussion" <UMNEWS@MAINE>
Reply-To: "M_Python discussion" <UMNEWS@MAINE>
Date: Monday, 18 Dec 1989 13:14:30 EST
Inspector: 'ELLO!
Mr. Hilton: 'Ello.
Inspector: Mr. 'ilton?
Hilton: A-yes?
I: You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company?
H: I am, yes.
I: Constable Clitoris and I are from the 'ygiene squad, and we'd like to have
a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the "Whizzo Quality
Assortment".
H: Oh, yes.
I: If I may begin at the beginning. First there is the Cherry Fondue.
Now this is extremely nasty. (pause) But we can't prosecute you for that.
H: Ah, agreed.
I: Then we have number four. Number four: Crunchy Frog.
H: Yes.
I: Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in 'ere?
H: Yes, a little one.
I: What sort of frog?
H: A...a *dead* frog.
I: Is it cooked?
H: No.
I: What, a RAW frog?!?
H: Oh, we use only the finest baby frogs, dew-picked and flown from Iraq,
cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and sealed in
a succulent, Swiss, quintuple-smooth, treble-milk chocolate envelope, and
lovingly frosted with glucose.
I: That's as may be, but it's still a frog!
H: What else?
I: Well, don't you even take the bones out?
H: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?
I: Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public!
C: Uh, would you excuse me a moment, Sir? (exits)
I: We have to protect the public! People aren't going to think there's a real
frog in chocolate! Constable Clitoris thought it was an almond whirl!
They're bound to expect some sort of mock frog!
H: (outraged) MOCK frog!?! We use NO artificial additives or preservatives of
ANY kind!
I: Nevertheless, I advise you in future to replace the words "Crunchy Frog"
with the legend, "Crunchy, Raw, Unboned Real Dead Frog" if you wish to avoid
prosecution!
H: What about our sales?
I: FUCK your sales! We've got to protect the public! Now what about this
one, number five, it was number five, wasn't it? Number five: Ram's
Bladder Cup. (beat) Now, what sort of confectionery is that?!?
H: Oh, we use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish Ram's bladder,
emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and
garnished with lark's vomit.
I: LARK'S VOMIT?!?!?
H: Correct.
I: It doesn't say anything here about lark's vomit!
H: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after "monosodium glutamate".
I: I hardly think that's good enough! I think it's be more appropriate if the
box bore a great red label: "WARNING: LARK'S VOMIT!!!"
H: Our sales would plummet!
I: (screaming) Well why don't you move into more conventional areas of
confectionary??!!
(the constable returns)
I: Like Praline, or, or Lime Creme, a very popular flavor, I'm lead to
understand. Or Raspberry Lite. I mean, what's this one, what's
this one? 'Ere we are: Cockroach Cluster! -- -- Anthrax Ripple!
C: MMMMWWWAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!
** For those of you watching this transcript on your terminal, the young **
** constable has just thrown up into his helmet. This is the longest **
** continuous vomit seen on Broadway since John Barrymore puked over Laertes **
** in the second act of Hamlet in 1941. **
I: (continuing) And what is this one: Spring Surprise?
H: Ah, that's one of our specialities. Covered in dark, velvety chocolate,
when you pop it into your mouth, stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge
straight through both cheeks.
I: (stunned) Well where's the pleasure in THAT?!? If people pop a nice little
chockie into their mouth, they don't expect to get their cheeks pierced!!!
In any case, it is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat. I shall have
to ask you to accompany me to the station.
H: (shrugging) It's a fair cop.
I: And DON'T talk to the audience.
================================================================================
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-< CYCLING.MP;1 >-
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**** The Cycling Sketch from Episode 10 of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" ****
**** Transcribed 3/31/87 by ****
**** Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
**** expressly for the BBOARD@YALEVM Python collection ****
MONTY PYTHON'S FLYING CIRCUS
EPISODE 10
Written and performed by
JOHN CLEESE, MICHAEL PALIN, TERRY JONES,
ERIC IDLE, GRAHAM CHAPMAN, TERRY GILLIAM
THURSDAY, 4TH MAY, 1972
(The green, lush Devon countryside. Theme music. There are trees in the
background perhaps and the camera is tracking along the hedgerow along a road.
We see a head whizzing along, sometimes just above the hedgerow and sometimes
bobbing down out of sight.... occasionally for long periods.
Title: THE CYCLING TOUR
Mr. Pither, the cyclist, bobs up and down a few more times, then disappears
from sight. There is a crash and clang of a bicycle in collision, mixed with
================================================================================
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**** The "Bring out your dead" scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ***
**** Transcribed from the film by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) on 12/16/86, ****
**** expressly for use of the BBOARD@YALEVM Python Collection. ****
**** This is transcript #2 from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** (film continued from SWALLOW PYTHON) ****
A cart passes through the muddy road through a village.
A baby cries. People wrestle in the mud. A woman beats a cat.
The cart-master chants wearily as they trudge along:
Bring out your dead!
Bring out your dead!
Bring out your dead! etc. while beating occasionally on a large
triangle with a wooden spoon.
As each person comes forward with his or her dead relative, they throw them on
the cart. He holds out his hand and they pay.
Bring out your dead!
A man comes out with a dead-looking old man in a nightshirst slung over his
shoulder. He starts to put the old man on the cart.
Man: Here's one-
Cart-master: Ninepence.
Old Man: (feebly) I'm not dead!
Cart-master: (suprised) What?
Man: Nothing! Here's your ninepence....
Old Man: I'm not dead!
Cart-master: 'Ere! 'E says 'e's not dead!
Man: Yes he is.
Old Man: I'm not!
Cart-master: 'E isn't?
Man: Well... he will be soon-- he's very ill...
Old Man: I'm getting better!
Man: No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
Cart-master: I can't take 'im like that! It's against regulations!
Old Man: I don't want to go on the cart....
Man: Oh, don't be such a baby.
Cart-master: I can't take 'im....
Old Man: I feel fine!
Man: Well, do us a favor...
Cart-master: I can't!
Man: Can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long...
Cart-master: No, gotta get to Robinson's, they lost nine today.
Man: Well, when's your next round?
Cart-master: Thursday.
Old Man: I think I'll go for a walk....
Man: You're not fooling anyone, you know--
(to Cart-master) Look, isn't there something you can do...?
(they both look around)
Old Man: I feel happy! I feel happy!
(the Cart-master deals the old man a swift blow to the head with his wooden
spoon. The old man goes limp.)
Man: (throwing the old man onto the cart) Ah. thanks very much.
Cart-master: Not at all. See you on Thursday!
Man: Right! All right....
King Arthur and his trusty servant, Patsy, "ride" through the town and past
the men.
Man: 'Oo's that then?
Cart-master: I don't know. Must be a king.
Man: Why
Cart-master: 'E 'asn't got shit all over 'im.
**** continued in PEASANT PYTHON, number 3 in the movie ****
**** end of file DEAD PYTHON 12/16/86 MMD ****
================================================================================
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**** The Dinosaur Sketch ****
**** from "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and "Monty Python's Previous Record" *
**** Transcribed 5/14/87 by ****
**** Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
Television Host (Graham Chapman): Good evening. Tonight - dinosaurs. I have
here sitting in the studio next to me an elk.
Aaagghhhh! Oh, I'm sorry, Anne Elk, Mrs Anne
Elk.
Miss Elk (John Cleese, as a very prim lady): Miss.
Host: Miss Anne Elk, who is an expert on the...
Elk: No, no, no, Anne Elk.
Host: What?
Elk: Anne Elk, not Anne Expert.
Host: No, no, I was saying that you, Miss Elk, were an, A.N. not A.N.N.E.,
expert...
Elk: Oh!
Host: ...on elks - I'm sorry, on dinosaurs.
Elk: Yes, I certainly am, Chris, how very true, my word yes!
Host: Now, Miss Elk - Anne - you have a new theory about the brontosaurus.
Elk: Could I just say, Chris, for one moment that I have a new theory about
the brontosaurus?
Host: Er... exactly. What is it?
Elk: Where?
Host: No, no, no. What is your theory?
Elk: Oh, what is my theory?
Host: Yes.
Elk: Oh what is my theory, that it is. Yes, well you may well ask, what is my
theory.
Host: (slightly impatient) I am asking.
Elk: And well you may. Yes my word you may well ask what it is, this theory
of mine. Well, this theory that I have--that is to say, which is mine--
...is mine.
Host: (more impatient) I know it's yours. What is it?
Elk: Where? Oh, what is my theory?
Host: Yes!
Elk: Oh, my theory that I have follows the lines I am about to relate.
(Coughs) Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem.
Host: Oh God.
Elk: Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem.
Ahem. Ahem. [Impatient noises from Host] The Theory, by A. Elk. That's
A for Anne, it's not by a elk.
Host: Right....
Elk: This theory which belongs to me is as follows. Ahem. Ahem. This is how
it goes. Ahem. The next thing that I am about to say is my theory.
Ahem. Ready?
(Host moans)
Elk: The Theory by A. Elk brackets Miss brackets. My theory is along the
following lines.
Host: Oh God.
Elk: All brontosauruses are thin at one end, much MUCH thicker in the middle,
and then thin again at the far end. That is the theory that I have and
which is mine, and what it is too.
Host: That's it, is it?
Elk: Right, Chris.
Host: Well, Anne, this theory of yours seems to have hit the nail on the head.
Elk: And it's mine.
Host: (ironical) Thank you for coming along to the studio.
Elk: My pleasure, Chris.
Host: Er...Britain's newest wasp farm...
Elk: It's been a lot of fun.
Host: ...opened last week...
Elk: Saying what my theory is.
Host: Yes, thank you.
Elk: And whose it is.
Host: Yes. ...opened last week...
Elk: I have another theory.
Host: Not today, thank you.
Elk: My theory number two, which is the second theory that I have. Ahem!
This theory...
Host: Oh look...shut up!
Elk: ...is what I am about to say...
Host: Oh please shut up!
Elk: ...which, with what I have said, are the two theories that are mine and
belong to me.
Host: Look, if you don't shut up I shall shoot you.
Elk: Ahem! My brace of theories, which I possess the ownership of, which
belongs to me...
(BANG!)
(Pause)
Elk: Ahem. The Theory the Second by Anne...
(MACHINE GUN FIRE)
**** End of DINOSAUR PYTHON 5/14/87 ****
To: CLARINET@YALEVMX
From: JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK
(JRP1%CAM...@UK.AC.CAM.ENG-ICF)
Authentic-sender: MAI...@UK.AC.CAMBRIDGE.ENGINEERING.SERC-ICF
================================================================================
Note 5.39 Monty Python 39 of 96
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-< DONG.MP;1 >-
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**** The "Not Noel Coward Song" ****
**** From "Monty Python's Meaning of Life" ****
**** Transcribed from the Book by an un-named per...@YALEVM.BITNET, 4/86 ****
warning:
This song is very specific in its reference to certain
nether parts of the body. We don't want to get in trouble or
anything so if you don't want to see the song, please EXIT (pf3) now.
We take no responsibility for any loss of innocence that might occur
as a result of viewing this file.
To see the song, PAGEDN (pf8).
The Not Noel Coward Song
Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis.
Isn't it simply grand to have a dong.
It's swell to have a stiffy, it's divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger to the world's biggest prick...
So three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas,
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake.
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy or your cock,
You can wrap it up in ribbons, you can slip it in your sock,
But don't take it out in public or they'll stick you in the dock,
And you won't a-come a-back.
Eric Idle
================================================================================
Note 5.40 Monty Python 40 of 96
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**** THE SILLY ELECTION (from Monty Python Live at Drury Lane) ****
**** Transcribed 7/14/87 by Jonathan Partington ****
**** ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
(Racy music)
Cleese (talking very fast, as do all the commentators): Hello, good evening
and welcome to Election Night Special. There's tremendous excitement
here at the moment and we should be getting the first results through
any moment now. We're not sure where it will be from, it might be
Leicester or from West Byfleet, the polling's been quite heavy in both
areas. Ah, I'm just getting... I'm just getting... a buzzing noise in
my left ear. Urgh, argh! (removes insect and stamps on it). And now
let's go straight over to Leicester.
Palin: And it's a straight fight here at Leicester and we're expecting the
result any moment now. There with the Returning Officer is Arthur Smith
the sensible candidate and next to him is Jethro Q. Walrustitty the
silly candidate with his agent and his silly wife.
Idle: (clears throat) Here is the result for Leicester. Arthur J. Smith...
Cleese: (Sensible Party)
Idle: ...30,612. (applause)
Jethro Q. Bunn Whackett Buzzard Stubble and Boot Walrustitty...
Cleese: (Silly Party)
Idle: ...33,108. (applause)
Cleese: Well there we have the first result of the election and the Silly
party has held Leicester. Norman.
Palin: Well pretty much as I predicted, except that the Silly party won. Er,
I think this is largely due to the number of votes cast. Gerald.
Chapman: Well there's a big swing here to the Silly Party, but how big a swing
I'm not going to tell you.
Palin: I think one should point out that in this constituency since the last
election a lot of very silly people have moved into new housing
estates with the result that a lot of sensible voters have moved
further down the road the other side of number er, 29.
Cleese: Well I can't add anything to that. Colin?
Idle: Can I just say that this is the first time I've been on television?
Cleese: No I'm sorry, there isn't time, we're just going straight over to
Luton.
Chapman: Well here at Luton it's a three-cornered contest between, from left
to right, Alan Jones (Sensible Party), Tarquin Fintimlinbinwhinbimlim
Bus Stop F'tang F'tang Ole Biscuit-Barrel (Silly Party), and Kevin
Phillips Bong, who is running on the Slightly Silly ticket. And
here's the result.
Woman: Alan Jones...
Cleese: (Sensible)
Woman: ...9,112.
Kevin Phillips Bong...
Cleese: (Slightly Silly)
Woman: Nought.
Tarquin Fintimlinbinwhinbimlim Bus Stop F'tang F'tang Ole
Biscuit-Barrel...
Cleese: (Silly)
Woman: 12,441. (applause)
Cleese: Well there you have it, the first result of the election as the Silly
Party take Luton. Norman.
Palin: Well this is a very significant result. Luton, normally a very
sensible constituency with a high proportion of people who aren't a
bit silly, has gone completely ga-ga.
Cleese: And we've just heard that James Gilbert has with him the winning Silly
candidate at Luton.
Idle: Tarquin, are you pleased with this result?
Tarquin (Palin): Ho yus, me old beauty, I should say so. (Silly noises
including a goat bleating).
Cleese: And do we have the swing at Luton?
Chapman: Er... no.
Cleese: (pause) Right, well I can't add anything to that. Colin?
Idle: Can I just say that this is the second time I've been on television?
Cleese: No, I'm sorry there isn't time, we're just about to get another
result.
Palin: And this one is from Harpenden Southeast. A very interesting
constituency this: in addition to the official Silly candidate there
is an unofficial Very Silly candidate, in the slab of concrete, and he
could well split the silly vote here at Harpenden Southeast.
Jones: Mrs Elsie Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
Cleese: (Silly)
Jones: 26,317 (applause).
Jeanette Walker...
Cleese: (Sensible)
Jones: 26,318...
Cleese: Very close!
Jones: Malcolm Peter Brian Telescope Adrian Blackpool Rock Stoatgobbler John
Raw Vegetable Brrroooo Norman Michael (rings bell) (blows whistle)
Edward (sounds car horn) (does train impersonation) (sounds buzzer)
Thomas Moo... (sings) "We'll keep a welcome in the..." (fires gun)
William (makes silly noise) "Raindrops keep falling on my" (weird
noise) "Don't sleep in the subway" (cuckoo cuckoo) Naaoooo... Smith...
Cleese: (Very Silly)
Jones: ...two.
Cleese: Well there you have it, a Sensible gain at Harpenden with the Silly
vote being split.
Palin: And we've just heard from Luton that Tony Stratton-Smith has with him
there the unsuccessful Slightly Silly candidate, Kevin Phillips Bong.
Idle: Kevin Phillips Bong. You polled no votes at all. Not a sausage.
Bugger all. Are you at all disappointed with this performance?
Bong (Neil Innes): Not at all. As I always say:
Climb every mountain
Ford every stream,
Follow every by-way,
Till you find your dream.
(Sings) A dream that will last
All the love you can give
Every day of your life
For as long as you live.
All together now!
Climb every mountain
Ford every stream...
Cleese: A very brave Kevin Phillips Bong there. Norman.
Palin: And I've just heard from Luton that my aunt is ill. Possibly
gastro-enteritis, possibly just catarrh. Gerald.
Cleese: Right. Er, Colin?
Idle: Can I just say that I'll never appear on television again?
Cleese: No I'm sorry, there isn't time, we have to pick up a few results you
may have missed. A little pink pussy-cat has taken Barrow-in-Furness
-- that's a gain from the Liberals there. Rastus Odinga Odinga has
taken Wolverhampton Southwest, that's Enoch Powell's old constituency
-- an important gain there for Darkie Power. Arthur Negus has held
Bristols -- that's not a result, that's just a piece of gossip. Sir
Alec Douglas Home has taken Oldham for the Stone Dead party. A small
piece of putty about that big, a cheese mechanic from Dunbar and two
frogs -- one called Kipper the other not -- have all gone "Ni ni ni ni
ni ni!" in Blackpool Central. And so it's beginning to look like a
Silly landslide, and with the prospect of five more years' Silly
government facing us we... Oh I don't want to do this any more, I'm
bored!
Palin: He's right you know, it is a bloody waste of time.
Chapman: Absolute waste of time.
Palin: I wanted to be a gynaecologist...
**** end of file ELECTION PYTHON
**** From: JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK
================================================================================
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Scene 58 External shot. Halfdan's Ship. Open sea. Day-time.
*Slaves on each side are sweating over their oars. They
look up and groan with disbelief at the rapping - for
this is the official order to row faster.*
*Suddenly the Slave-Master turns on them. He is a far from
typical slave-master, being a diminutive Japanese.*
*He too has heard the command for a faster rhythm and
he stalks down the decks lashing the sweat-streaked
Galley-Slaves and cursing them in incomprehensible
Japanese.*
*Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) a translation
appears in subtitles.*
Slave-Master (in subtitles): Row! You incomprehensible,
horizontal-eyed, Western, trouser wetters! Eurgh!
You all look the same to me! How I despise your lack
of sublety and your joined-up writing! You, who
have never committed ritual suicide in your lives!
Slave (whispering to his neighbor): You know, I don't think
it would be so bad, if we knew what he was saying...
Slave-Master (in subtitles): SILENCE! Unceremonious
rice-pudding eaters! How I abominate your milk
drinking and your lack of ancestor worship and
your failure to eat your lunch out of little boxes!
**several scenes later**
Slave-Master (in subtitles): Hey! What's going on? Your
big-breasted women give me no pleasure with their
warmed-up fish and...urgh!
================================================================================
Note 5.42 Monty Python 42 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 100 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:55
-< EVEREST.MP;1 >-
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**** The Hairdressers' Ascent up Mount Everest sketch ****
**** from Monty Python's Flying Circus ****
**** transcribed 2/24/88 by Betty McLaughlin ( IO6...@MAINE.BITNET ) ****
(Begins with a picture of the sun rising over two mountain peaks)
Announcer (Graham Chapman): Mount Everest. Forbidding, aloof, terrifying.
The mountain with the biggest tits in the world.
(Gong crashes, a disgusted voice interrupts)
Voice Over: Start again!
(A hideous clown in green plaid shirt, 14-inch wide blue polka-dotted bow tie,
red curly wig, false teeth and an ugly mask steps in front of the picture of
the mountain for a second and waves.)
Announcer: Mount Everest. Forbidding, aloof, terrifying. This year, this
remote Himalayan mountain, this mystical temple, surrounded by the
most difficult terrain in the world, repulsed yet another attempt to
conquer it. (Picture changes to wind-swept, snowy tents and people)
This time, by the International Hairdresser's Expedition. In such
freezing, adverse conditions, man comes very close to breaking
point. What was the real cause of the disharmony which destroyed
their chances at success?
(Hairdresser #1 is a snowy, bundled up climber with a very gay voice.
Hairdressers #2 and #3 are even more gay and windswept.)
Hairdresser #1: Well, people keep taking your hairdryer on every turn.
Hairdresser #2: There's a lot of bitching in the tents.
Hairdresser #3: You couldn't get near the mirror.
(Cut to the announcer, a stuffy looking older man, delicately trimming
millimeters off the leaves of cabbages growing in his country garden.)
Announcer: The leader of the expedition was Colonel Sir John Cheesy-Weezy
Butler, veteran K2, Annapurna, and Vidal. His plan was to ignore
the usual route around the south and to make straight for the top.
(next part shows a map of the mountain)
Cheesy-Weezy: We established Base Salon here, and climbed quite steadily up to
Mario's, here. From here, using crampons and cutting ice steps
as we went, we moved steadily up the face to the north ridge,
establishing Camp Three, where we could get a hot meal, a
manicure, and a shampoo and set.
Announcer: Could it work? Could this 18-year old hairdresser from Brixton
succeed where others had failed? The situation was complicated by
the imminent arrival of the monsoon storms. Patrice takes up the
story.
(cut to Patrice (Eric Idle) in a salon, very effeminately brushing and blow-
drying a customer's hair.)
Patrice: Well, we knew as well as anyone that the monsoons were due. But the
thing was, Ricky and I had just had a blow dry and rinse, and we
couldn't go out for a couple of days.
(Picture of mountaineers climbing down mountain)
Announcer: After a blazing row, the Germans and Italians had turned back,
taking with them the last of the hairnets. On the third day, a
blizzard blew up. Temperatures fell to minus 30 degrees
centigrade. Inside the little tent, things were getting desperate.
(Ricky (Michael Palin) and John Cleese are crowded inside a little tent,
sporting beards, hairnets, and curlers. They sit beneath stationary
hairdryers. Cleese is reading, Ricky is buffing his nails.)
Ricky: Well, things have gotten so bad that we've been forced to use the last
of the heavy oxygen equipment just to keep the dryers going. (A woman
hands him a cup of tea.) Oh, she's a treasure.
Cleese: Shhh!
(another mountain climbing scene)
Announcer: But a new factor had entered the race. A team of French
chiropodists, working with brand new corn plasters and Dr. Scholl's
Mountaineering Sandals, were close behind. The Glasgow Orpheus
male voice choir were tackling the difficult north part. All
together, fourteen expeditions were at the scene. This was it.
Ricky had to make a decision.
(back to Patrice at his salon)
Patrice: Well, we decided to open a salon.
Announcer: It was a tremendous success.
(the following is accompanied by pictures of great mountaineering
heros upon whom are pasted elaborate Marie Antoinette style hairdos)
Announcer: Challenging Everest? Why not drop in at Ricky Pule's, only 2400
feet from this cinema. (A huge pink neon sign reading 'Ricky's'
appears on the mountain.) Ricky and Maurice offer a variety of
styles for the well-groomed climber. Why should Tensing and Sir
Edmond Hillary be number one on top, when you're number one on top?
================================================================================
Note 5.43 Monty Python 43 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 128 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:55
-< FISH.MP;1 >-
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**** The Fish License Sketch ****
**** Transcribed 4/18/87 from Monty Python's Previous Record ****
**** by Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
Man (Cleese): (whistles a bit, then) Hello. I would like to buy a fish
licence, please.
Postal clerk (Palin): A what?
Man: A licence for my pet fish, Eric.
Clerk: How did you know my name was Eric?
Man: No, no, no! My fish's name is Eric. Eric fish. He's an halibut.
Clerk: What?
Man: He is an halibut.
Clerk: You've got a pet halibut?
Man: Yes, I chose him out of thousands. I didn't like the others, they were
all too flat.
Clerk: You must be a loony.
Man: I am not a loony. Why should I be tarred with the epithet 'loony'
merely because I have a pet halibut? I've heard tell that Sir Gerald
Nabarro has a pet prawn called Simon - you wouldn't call him a loony!
Furthermore Dawn Pathorpe, the lady showjumper, had a clam called
Stafford, after the late chancellor. Alan Bullock has two pikes, both
called Chris, and Marcel Proust had an 'addock! So if you're calling
the author of 'A la recherche de temps perdu' a loony, I shall have to
ask you to step outside!
Clerk: All right, all right, all right. A licence?
Man: Yes!
Clerk: For a fish.
Man: Yes!
Clerk: You *are* a loony.
Man: Look, it's a bleeding pet, isn't it? I've got a licence for me pet dog
Eric, I've got a licence for me pet cat Eric.
Clerk: You don't need a licence for your cat.
Man: I bleedin' well do and I've got one! Can't be caught out there!
Clerk: There is no such thing as a bloody Cat Licence.
Man: Yes there is.
Clerk: No there isn't.
Man: Is!
Clerk: Isn't!
Man: I've bleedin' got one, look! What's that then?
Clerk: This is a dog licence with the word 'dog' crossed out and 'cat' written
in in crayon.
Man: Man didn't have the right form.
Clerk: What man?
Man: The man from the cat detector van.
Clerk: The loony detector van, you mean.
Man: Look, it's people like you what cause unrest.
Clerk: What cat detector van?
Man: The cat detector van from the Ministry of Housinge.
Clerk: Housinge?
Man: It was spelt like that on the van. I'm very observant. I never seen so
many bleedin' aerials. The man said their equipment could pinpoint a
purr at four hundred yards, and Eric being such a happy cat was a piece
of cake.
Clerk: How much did you pay for this?
Man: Sixty quid and eight for the fruit-bat.
Clerk: What fruit-bat?
Man: Eric the fruit-bat.
Clerk: Are all your pets called Eric?
Man: There's nothing so odd about that. Kemel Attaturk had an entire
menagerie called Abdul.
Clerk: No he didn't.
Man: Did!
Clerk: Didn't!
Man: Did, did, did, did, did and did!
Clerk: Oh all right.
Man: Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a fish
licence?
Clerk: I promise you that there is no such thing. You don't need one.
Man: In that case give me a bee licence.
Clerk: A licence for your pet bee.
Man: Correct.
Clerk: Called Eric? Eric the bee?
Man: No.
Clerk: No?
Man: No, Eric the half bee. He had an accident.
Clerk: You're off your chump.
Man: Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquialism to
imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or even to deny the
semi-existence of my little chum Eric the half bee, I shall have to ask
you to listen to this. Take it away, Eric the orchestra-leader.
Eric Idle: A one, two, a one two three four!
Man (sings): Half a bee, philosophically,
Must, ipso facto, half not be.
But half the bee has got to be
Vis a vis, its entity. D'you see?
But can a bee be said to be
Or not to be an entire bee
When half the bee is not a bee
Due to some ancient injury?
Chorus: La dee dee, one two three,
Eric the half a bee.
A B C D E F G,
Eric the half a bee.
Man: Is this wretched demi-bee,
Half-asleep upon my knee,
Some freak from a menagerie?
No! It's Eric the half a bee!
Chorus: Fiddle de dum, Fiddle de dee,
Eric the half a bee.
Ho ho ho, tee hee hee,
Eric the half a bee.
Man: I love this hive, implore ye-ee,
Bisected accidentally,
One summer afternoon by me,
I love him carnally.
Chorus: He loves him carnally,
Semi-carnally.
Man: The end.
Clerk: Cyril Connolly?
Man: No, semi-carnally!
Clerk: Oh.
Chorus: Cyril Connolly. (Whistle end of tune.)
To: CLARINET@YALEVMX
From: JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK
(JRP1%CAM...@UK.AC.CAM.ENG-ICF)
Authentic-sender: MAI...@UK.AC.CAMBRIDGE.ENGINEERING.SERC-ICF
================================================================================
Note 5.44 Monty Python 44 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 170 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:55
-< FRENCH.MP;1 >-
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**** The French Castle Scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from the Album of the Soundtrack of the Trailer of the ****
**** Film on 10/20/86 by Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** and the almost inevitable Bret Shefter '89 ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** Transcript #8 from the movie ****
**** (Film continued from GRAIL PYTHON) ****
King Arthur and his knights of the round table, along with their servants,
"ride" up to a castle. King Arthur's servant, Patsy, blows a horn.
Arthur: HELLO!
(waits)
Bedevere: HELLO!
(waits)
An armor-clad face appears at the top of the rampart.
It speaks in an outrageous French accent.
Soldier: 'Allo! 'Oo is it?
Arthur: It is I, King Arthur, and these are my knights of the Round Table.
Whose castle is this?
S: This is the castle of my master, Guy de Lombard.
A: Go and tell your master that we have been charged by God with a sacred
quest. If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us
in our quest for the Holy Grail.
S: Well, I'll ask 'im, but I don't think 'e'll be very keen-- 'e's already got
one, you see?
A: What?
Lancelot: He says they've already *got* one!
A: (confused) Are you *sure* he's got one?
S: Oh yes, it's ver' naahs.
(to the other soldiers:) I told 'em we've already *got* one!
(they snicker)
A: (taken a bit off balance) Well... ah, um... Can we come up and have a look?
S: Of course not! You are English types.
A: Well, what are you then?
S: (Indignant) Ah'm French! Why do you think I have this out-rrrageous
accent, you silly king?!
Galahad: What are you doing in *England*?
S: Mind your own business!
A: If you will not show us the Grail, we shall take your castle by force!
S: You don't frighten us, English pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, son of a
silly person! Ah blow my nose at you, so-called "Arthur Keeeng"! You and
all your silly English Knnnnnnnn-ighuts!!!
(the soldier proceeds to bang on his helmet with his hands and stick out his
tongue at the knights, making strange noises.)
Galahad: What a strange person.
A: (getting mad) Now look here, my good ma--
S: Ah don' wanna talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food-trough
wiper! Ah fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster, and
your father smelt of elderberries!
Galahad: Is there someone else up there we can talk to?
S: No!! Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Note: the Album of the Soundtrack of the Trailer of the Film of Monty Python |
|and the Holy Grail cuts here, returning to transcript in transcript #8A, |
|STORY PYTHON. The rest of this transcript does not appear on the Album. |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------------+
(pause)
A: Now this is your last chance! I've been more than reasonable....
S: (to four other soldiers, standing behind him on the rampart)
Fetchez la vache.
Other Soldier: qua?
S: Fetchez la vache!
(the other soldiers are seen leading a cow... mooing noises)
A: (continued) ...if you do not agree to my commands, than I shall--
(Boing! The cow goes flying through the air over the rampart...
A: Jesus Christ!
(...and lands, amid great mooing, on one of the footmen. Various crying-outs
from Arthur's party.)
A: (determined) Right!
(drawing sword) CHARGE!
Rest of Arthur's Party: CHAAAARGE!
(As they run towards the French Castle, swords drawn, they are met by a huge
onslaught of live animals of all sizes, that come plummeting down from the
ramparts of the castle. Amid screams, they all turn back before even reaching
the castle walls, save Launcelot, who reaches the stone wall in time to give
it one stroke with his sword before retreating.)
French Soldier: (throwing down a goose) Hey, this one is for your mother!
(and a duck) And this one's for your gran!
Arthur's party: (hastily retreating) Run away!
RUN AWAAAAY!
Launcelot: (as they hunker down behind a grassy knoll out of flying-animal's
reach of the castle) Fiends, I'll tear them apart!
Arthur: No no, no!!
Bedevere: (to Arthur) Sir... I have a plan, sir.
There follows a long scene where the french soldier, stationed atop the
rampart, surveys the surrounding countryside and sees nothing, but hears
various sounds of construction (hammering, the felling of trees, chain saws
being operated) from the woods. Eventually, amid a great squeaking of wooden
wheels, a giant wooden rabbit is wheeled out of the forest by Arthur's group.
They wheel it right up to the front gates of the French Castle and leave it
there, returning to their concealed spot behind the knoll to watch.
A minute later, the castle gate opens and a french soldier peeks out.
His head disappears and he can be heard speaking with the others.
Soldier: C'est un lapin, un lapin de bois.
2nd Soldier: Qua?
Three soliders' heads appear around the end of the door and disappear again.
Soldier: Un Cadeau!
2nd Soldier: What?
Soldier: A present!
2nd Soldier: Ah, un Cadeau!
Soldier: Allons-y, allons-y!
2nd Soldier: What?
Soldier: Let's go!
2nd Soldier: Ah!
The three French Soldiers creep out and wheel the rabbit into the castle,
closing the gate behind them.
behind the knoll:
Arthur: (to Bedevere) What happens now?
Bedevere: Well, now, uh, Launcelot, Galahad and I, uh, wait until nightfall,
and then leap out of the rabbit, taking the French, uh, by suprise.
Not only by suprise, but totally unarmed!
Arthur: *Who* leaps out?
Bedevere: (pointing to each knight as he names him) Uh... Launcelot, Galahad,
and I.... uh, leap out of the rabbit, uh, and, uh....
Launcelot: (groans)
Bedevere: (pause) Oh... um, look, if we built this large wooden Badger....
Arthur knocks him on the head.
Just then, the rabbit comes soaring over the castle wall. The party disbands
amid great shouts of "Run away, run away!", but the rabbit lands on yet
another helpless footman. Cries of distress.
*** Snap! "Picture for schools, take eight." ***
An old historian is standing in the woods, offering commentary on the story.
Director: (off camera) Action!
Historian: (to camera) Defeat at the castle seems to have utterly disheartened
King Arthur. The ferocity of the French taunting took him
completely by suprise, and Arthur became convinced that a new
strategy was required if the Quest for the Holy Grail were to be
brought to a successful conclusion. Arthur, having consulted his
closest knights, decided that they should separate, and search for
the Grail individually. Now this is what they did....
A knight in full armor rides past on horseback, cutting off the Historian's
head in the process.
Historian's Wife: (running out from behind the camera): Brian!
**** Continued in ROBIN PYTHON, transcript #9 from the movie ****
**** end of file FRENCH PYTHON 3/8/87 M.M.D. ****
================================================================================
Note 5.45 Monty Python 45 of 96
THOR::BEW4568 "Bruce E., Doctor of Thaumaturgy." 166 lines 27-MAR-1990 12:56
-< FRUIT.MP;1 >-
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**** Self-defense against Fresh Fruit ****
**** Transcribed 11/10/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
**** especially for the BBoard collection of Python Files @YALEVM ****
Colonel (Graham Chapman): get some discipline into those chaps, Sergeant
Major!
Sargeant (John Cleese, shouting throughout): Right sir! Good evening, class.
All (mumbling): Good evening.
Sargeant: Where's all the others, then?
All: They're not here.
Sgt.: I can see that. What's the matter with them?
All: Dunno.
Chapman (member of class): Perhaps they've got 'flu.
Sgt.: Huh! 'Flu, eh? They should eat more fresh fruit. Ha. Right. Now,
self-defence. Tonight I shall be carrying on from where we got to last
week when I was showing you how to defend yourselves against anyone who
attacks you with armed with a piece of fresh fruit.
(Grumbles from all)
Palin: Oh, you promised you wouldn't do fruit this week.
Sgt.: What do you mean?
Jones: We've done fruit the last nine weeks.
Sgt.: What's wrong with fruit? You think you know it all, eh?
Palin: Can't we do something else?
Idle (Welsh): Like someone who attacks you with a pointed stick?
Sgt.: Pointed stick? Oh, oh, oh. We want to learn how to defend ourselves
against pointed sticks, do we? Getting all high and mighty, eh? Fresh
fruit not good enough for you eh? Well I'll tell you something my lad.
When you're walking home tonight and some great homicidal maniac comes
after you with a bunch of loganberries, don't come crying to me! Now,
the passion fruit. When your assailant lunges at you with a passion
fruit...
All: We done the passion fruit.
Sgt.: What?
Chapman: We done the passion fruit.
Palin: We done oranges, apples, grapefruit...
Jones: Whole and segments.
Palin: Pomegranates, greengages...
Chapman: Grapes, passion fruit...
Palin: Lemons...
Jones: Plums...
Chapman: Mangoes in syrup...
Sgt.: How about cherries?
All: We did them.
Sgt.: Red *and* black?
All: Yes!
Sgt.: All right, bananas.
(All sigh.)
Sgt.: We haven't done them, have we? Right. Bananas. How to defend yourself
against a man armed with a banana. Now you, come at me with this
banana. Catch! Now, it's quite simple to defend yourself against a man
armed with a banana. First of all you force him to drop the banana;
then, second, you eat the banana, thus disarming him. You have now
rendered him 'elpless.
Palin: Suppose he's got a bunch.
Sgt.: Shut up.
Idle: Suppose he's got a pointed stick.
Sgt.: Shut up. Right now you, Mr Apricot.
Chapman: 'Arrison.
Sgt.: Sorry, Mr. 'Arrison. Come at me with that banana. Hold it like that,
that's it. Now attack me with it. Come on! Come on! Come at me!
Come at me then! (Shoots him.)
Chapman: Aaagh! (dies.)
Sgt.: Now, I eat the banana. (Does so.)
Palin: You shot him!
Jones: He's dead!
Idle: He's completely dead!
Sgt.: I have now eaten the banana. The deceased, Mr Apricot, is now 'elpless.
Palin: You shot him. You shot him dead.
Sgt.: Well, he was attacking me with a banana.
Jones: But you told him to.
Sgt.: Look, I'm only doing me job. I have to show you how to defend
yourselves against fresh fruit.
Idle: And pointed sticks.
Sgt.: Shut up.
Palin: Suppose I'm attacked by a man with a banana and I haven't got a gun?
Sgt.: Run for it.
Jones: You could stand and scream for help.
Sgt.: Yeah, you try that with a pineapple down your windpipe.
Jones: A pineapple?
Sgt.: Where? Where?
Jones: No I just said: a pineapple.
Sgt.: Oh. Phew. I thought my number was on that one.
Jones: What, on the pineapple?
Sgt.: Where? Where?
Jones: No, I was just repeating it.
Sgt.: Oh. Oh. I see. Right. Phew. Right that's bananas then. Now the
raspberry. There we are. 'Armless looking thing, isn't it? Now you,
Mr Tin Peach.
Jones: Thompson.
Sgt.: Thompson. Come at me with that raspberry. Come on. Be as vicious as
you like with it.
Jones: No.
Sgt.: Why not?
Jones: You'll shoot me.
Sgt.: I won't.
Jones: You shot Mr. Harrison.
Sgt.: That was self-defence. Now come on. I promise I won't shoot you.
Idle: You promised you'd tell us about pointed sticks.
Sgt.: Shut up. Come on, brandish that raspberry. Come at me with it. Give
me Hell.
Jones: Throw the gun away.
Sgt.: I haven't got a gun.
Jones: You have.
Sgt.: Haven't.
Jones: You shot Mr 'Arrison with it.
Sgt.: Oh, that gun.
Jones: Throw it away.
Sgt.: Oh all right. How to defend yourself against a redcurrant -- without a
gun.
Jones: You were going to shoot me!
Sgt.: I wasn't.
Jones: You were!
Sgt.: No, I wasn't, I wasn't. Come on then. Come at me. Come on you weed!
You weed, do your worst! Come on, you puny little man. You weed...
(Sgt. pulls a lever in the wall--CRASH! a 16-ton weight falls on Jones)
Jones: Aaagh.
Sgt.: If anyone ever attacks you with a raspberry, just pull the lever and the
16-ton weight will fall on top of him.
Palin: Suppose there isn't a 16-ton weight?
Sgt.: Well that's planning, isn't it? Forethought.
Palin: Well how many 16-ton weights are there?
Sgt.: Look, look, look, Mr Knowall. The 16-ton weight is just _one way_ of
dealing with a raspberry killer. There are millions of others!
Idle: Like what?
Sgt.: Shootin' him?
Palin: Well what if you haven't got a gun or a 16-ton weight?
Sgt.: Look, look. All right, smarty-pants. You two, you two, come at me then
with raspberries. Come on, both of you, whole basket each.
Palin: No guns.
Sgt.: No.
Palin: No 16-ton weights.
Sgt.: No.
Idle: No pointed sticks.
Sgt.: Shut up.
Palin: No rocks up in the ceiling.
Sgt.: No.
Palin: And you won't kill us.
Sgt.: I won't.
Palin: Promise.
Sgt.: I promise I won't kill you. Now. Are you going to attack me?
Palin & Idle: Oh, all right.
Sgt.: Right, now don't rush me this time. Stalk me. Do it properly. Stalk
me. I'll turn me back. Stalk up behind me, close behind me, then in
with the redcurrants! Right? O.K. start moving. Now the first thing
to do when you're being stalked by an ugly mob with redcurrants is to --
release the tiger!
(He does so. Growls. Screams.)
Sgt.: The great advantage of the tiger in unarmed combat is that he eats not
only the fruit-laden foe but also the redcurrants. Tigers however do
not relish the peach. The peach assailant should be attacked with a
crocodile. Right, now, the rest of you, where are you? I know you're
hiding somewhere with your damsons and prunes. Well I'm ready for you.
I've wired meself up to 200 tons of gelignite, and if any one of you so
much as makes a move we'll all go up together!
Right, right. I warned you. That's it...
(Explosion.)
**** end of file FRUIT PYTHON 11/30/87 M.M.D. ****
================================================================================
Note 5.46 Monty Python 46 of 96
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-< GALAXY.MP;1 >-
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**** The Galaxy song from "Monty Python's The Meaning of Life" ****
**** Transcribed 3/25/86 by Bret Shefter '89 ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** From a singing by HEN...@YALEVM.BITNET ****
<spoken>
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown,
And things seem hard or tough,
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft,
<sung>
And you feel that you've had quite eno-o-o-o-o-ough,
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And reolving at nine thousand miles an hour.
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
'Round the sun that is the source of all our power.
Now the sun, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see,
Are moving at a million miles a day,
In the outer spiral arm, at fourteen thousand miles an hour,
Of a galaxy we call the Milky Way.
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred million stars;
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side;
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick,
But out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide.
We're thirty thousand light-years from Galactic Central Point,
We go 'round every two hundred million years;
And our galaxy itself is one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.
<waltz>
Our universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding,
In all of the directions it can whiz;
As fast as it can go, that's the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth;
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth!
-- Eric Idle
================================================================================
Note 5.47 Monty Python 47 of 96
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**** A Blessing from the Lord ****
**** From "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from the memory of ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 3/30/86 ****
**** This is transcript #7 from the movie ****
**** (Film continued from CAMELOT PYTHON) ****
Bedevere: And that, my liege, is how we know the earth to be banana-shaped.
Arthur: This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedevere. Explain again how sheep's
bladders can be employed to prevent earthquakes.
Bedevere: Oh, certainly, Sir. You see,...
(Thunder)
(the clouds open and a giant animated face is seen. It speaks:)
God: Aaaarthur... Aarthur, King of the Britons...
(the knights fall to their knees)
God: Oh don't grovel!
Arthur: Sorry, Lord...
God: And DON'T apologize!! Every time I try to talk to somebody, its "I'm
sorry" this and "forgive me" that and "I'm not *worthy*"... It's like
those miserable Psalms--they're soooo depressing!
Arthur: Yes, Lord.
God: What're you doing now?
Arthur: Averting my eyes, o Lord.
God: Well KNOCK IT OFF!
Arthur: Yes, Lord.
God: Right. Arthur, King of the Britons, I have decided to set you a task as
an example in these dark times.
Arthur: Good idear, o Lord!
God: (thunder) 'COURSE IT'S A GOOD IDEA! Now: this is the Holy Grail.
(giant picture of a golden, jewel-encrusted grail appears in the sky)
(heavenly music)
Look well, Arthur: It is your mission to seek this Grail. That is your
purpose, Arthur: The Quest for the Holy Grail!
(the clouds slam shut.)
Lancelot: A blessing! A blessing from the Lord!
Galahad: God be praised!
**** continued in FRENCH PYTHON, transcript #8 from the movie ****
**** end of file GRAIL PYTHON 3/30/86 M.M.D. ****
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**** The Holy Hand-Grenade Scene; GRENADE PYTHON ****
**** from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from left-over electical impulses in the brain cells of ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/86 ****
**** Finished up by Bret "Eat at Joe's" Shefter '89 ( SHEBREB@YALEVM ) ****
**** Transcript #13 in the film ****
**** Continued from #11, NI PYTHON ****
*** The Holy Hand Grenade ***
The knights rush into a cave, huffing and puffing, to take cover from the
vicious onslaught of the Killer Rabbit.
Arthur: RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!
Bedevere: Okay, how many did we lose?
Arthur: Well...Gawain...Ector...and Bors. That's five.
Bedevere: Three, Sire!
Arthur: Three. And we can't risk another try, that rabbit's dynamite!
All: Hmmmm..
Robin: Maybe if we attack it, it will get confused, and make a mistake!
(pause)
Arthur: Like what?
(longer pause)
Robin: Ummmm....
Lancelot: Have we got bows?
Arthur: (quickly) No.
Galahad: (brightly) We *have* the Holy Hand Grenade, Sir!
Arthur: Of course! 'Tis one of the sacred relics that Brother Maynard
carries with him! Brother Maynard! Bring out the Holy Hand Grenade!
Monks: (Chant)
Pie Jesu domine,
Dona eis requiem.
Pie Jesu domine,
Dona eis requiem.
(Pause. Arthur examines the hand grenade, turning it over in his hands.)
Arthur: How does it....How does it work?
High Priest: I know not, my leige.
Arthur: Consult the book of Armaments!
High Priest: Armaments Chapter One, verses nine through twenty-seven:
Brother Maynard: And Saint Attila raised the Holy Hand Grenade up on high
saying, "Oh Lord, Bless us this Holy Hand Grenade, and with it
smash our enemies to tiny bits."
And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the
lambs, and stoats, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and
lima bean-
High Priest: Skip a bit, brother.
Brother Maynard: And then the Lord spake, saying:
"First, shalt thou take out the holy pin.
Then shalt thou count to three.
No more, no less.
*Three* shall be the number of the counting, and the number
of the counting shall be three.
*Four* shalt thou not count, and neither count thou two,
excepting that thou then goest on to three.
Five is RIGHT OUT. Once the number three, being the third
number be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade
to-wards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff
it. Amen.
All: Amen.
Arthur: Right! (pulls pin)
One!
Two!
Five!
Bedevere: Three, Sire!!
Arthur: Three! (throws hand grenade at the Killer Rabbit)
(holy music)
KABOOM.
**** continued in BRIDGE PYTHON, transcript #14 in the film ****
**** end of file GRENADE PYTHON, transcript #13 in the film ****
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**** The Haggling Scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed 7/28/86 by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS107124@YUSOL ) ****
(After Brian has escaped the Centurions, he runs off towards the crowded
market square. At one end of the market there is a speakers' corner, with
many strangely bearded and oddly dressed Prophets attempting to attract an
audience. The noisiest or the most controversial are clearly doing best at
attracting Passers-by. A strange figure with a rasta hairstyle, covered in
mud, and with two severed hands on a pole waves wildly at the audience.)
Blood & Thunder Prophet: ...and shall ride forth on a serpents' back, and the
eyes shall be red with the blood of living creatures,
and the whore of Babylon shall rise over the hill of
excitement and throughout the land there will be a
great rubbing of parts....
(Beside him, another Prophet with red hair, none the less fierce, is trying to
attract some of the Blood & Thunder Prophet's audience.)
False Prophet: And he shall bear a nine-bladed sword. Nine-bladed. Not two.
Or five or seven, but nine, which he shall wield on all
wretched sinners and that includes you sir, and the horns shall
be on the head ...
(In front of each Prophet is a Roman Guard, clearly bored but there to break
up any trouble. Brian races into the market place. A bunch of Romans are
searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down Passers-by.
Brian appears near a rather dull little Prophet, who is standing underneath
the high window that backs out of Matthias' house, the revolutionary HQ.)
Boring Prophet: And there shall in that time be rumours of things going
astray, and there will be a great confusion as to where things
really are, and nobody will really know where lieth those
little things with the sort of raffia work base, that has an
attachment that will not be there.
(Across the square the Romans appear, searching. Brian spots Harry, the beard
seller, and moves towards his stall, an idea forming in his mind.)
(The Boring Prophet drones on and on:)
At this time a friend shall lose his friends's hammer and the
young shall not know where lieth the things possessed by their
fathers that their fathers put there only just the night
before....
(Brian runs up to Harry the beard seller's stall and hurriedly grabs an
artificial beard.)
Brian: How much? Quick!
Harry: What?
Brian: It's for the wife.
Harry: Oh. Twenty shekels.
Brian: Right.
Harry: What?
Brian: (putting down 20 shekels) There you are.
Harry: Wait a moment.
Brian: What?
Harry: We're supposed to haggle.
Brian: No, no, I've got to ...
Harry: What do you mean, no?
Brian: I haven't time, I've got to get ...
Harry: Give it back then.
Brian: No, no, I paid you.
Harry: Burt!
(Burt appears. He is very big.)
Burt: Yeah?
Harry: This bloke won't haggle.
Burt: (looking around) Where are the guards?
Brian: Oh, all right ... I mean do we have to ...
Harry: Now I want twenty for that ...
Brian: I gave you twenty.
Harry: Now are you telling me that's not worth twenty shekels?
Brian: No.
Harry: Feel the quality, that's none of yer goat.
Brian: Oh ... I'll give you nineteen then.
Harry: No, no. Do it properly.
Brian: What?
Harry: Haggle properly. This isn't worth nineteen.
Brian: You just said it was worth twenty.
Harry: Burt!!
Brian: I'll give you ten.
Harry: That's more like it.
(outraged) Ten!? Are you trying to insult me? Me? With a poor dying
grandmother...Ten!?!
Brian: Eleven.
Harry: Now you're getting it. Eleven!?! Did I hear you right? Eleven? This
cost me twelve. You want to ruin me?
Brian: Seventeen.
Harry: Seventeen!
Brian: Eighteen?
Harry: No, no, no. You go to fourteen now.
Brian: Fourteen.
Harry: Fourteen, are you joking?
Brian: That's what you told me to say.
(Harry registers total despair.)
Tell me what to say. Please.
Harry: Offer me fourteen.
Brian: I'll give you fourteen.
Harry: (to onlookers) He's offering me fourteen for this!
Brian: Fifteen.
Harry: Seventeen. My last word. I won't take a penny less, or strike me
dead.
Brian: Sixteen.
Harry: Done. (He grasps Brian's hand and shakes it.) Nice to do business
with you. Tell you what, I'll throw in this as well. (He gives
Brian a gourd.)
Brian: I don't want it, but thanks.
Harry: Burt!
Burt: (reappearing rapidly) Yes?
Brian: All right! All right!! Thank you.
Harry: Where's the sixteen then?
Brian: I already gave you twenty.
Harry: Oh yes ... that's four I owe you then. (starts looking for change)
Brian: It's all right, it doesn't matter.
Harry: Hang on.
(Pause as Harry can't find change. Brian sees a pair of prowling Romans.)
Brian: It's all right, that's four for the gourd -- that's fine!
Harry: Four for the gourd. Four!!!! Look at it, that's worth ten if it's
worth a shekel.
Brian: You just gave it to me for nothing.
Harry: Yes, but it's *worth* ten.
Brian: All right, all right.
Harry: No, no, no. It's not worth ten. You're supposed to argue. "What?
Ten for that, you must be mad!"
(Brian pays ten, runs off with the gourd, and fixes the beard on his face.)
Ah, well there's one born every minute.
***** Here endeth Part Eleven of Life of Brian (of Nazareth) *****
***** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or *****
***** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... *****
***** Dwayne A. X. E. E. (<CS107124@YUSOL>) *****
R; T=0.25/1.35 22:04:01
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Note 5.50 Monty Python 50 of 96
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**** The North Minehead Bye-election ****
**** From "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and "And Now for Something ****
**** Completely Different" ****
**** Transcribed by Jonathan Partington ****
**** ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) 4/12/87 ****
**** Edited by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
Knock. Door opens.
Landlady (Terry Jones): Hello, Mr and Mrs Johnson?
Mr Johnson (Eric Idle): Yes, that's right. Yes.
Landlady: Oh, come on in. Excuse me not shaking hands, I've just been
putting a bit of lard on the cat's boils. (Door closes)
Johnson: Thank you.
Landlady: Oh, you must be tired. It's a long way from Coventry, isn't it?
Johnson: Well, we usually reckon on five and a half hours and it took us six
hours and 53 minutes, with the 25 minute stop at Frampton Cottrell to
stretch our legs; and we had to wait half an hour to get onto the M5
at Droitwich.
Landlady: Really?
Johnson: Then there was a three mile queue just before Bridgewater on the A38.
We usually come round on the B3339, you see, just before Bridgewater.
Landlady: Yeah. Really?
Johnson: We decided to risk it 'cause they always say they're going to widen
it there. Yes, well just by the intersection there where the A372
joins up. There's plenty of room to widen it there, there's only
grass verges. They could get another six feet, knock down that
-< HOLY_GRAIL.MP;1 >-
Daniel Joseph Michaeloff
Oh, sh*t.
Run for the hills, folks.
news knower
| discussion. _______________________________________________________/
\_ _________/
\|
O
<I>
_/_\__
|SOAP|
------
I'll get off the soapbox now.
From: ry...@acsu.Buffalo.EDU (andrew m ryer)
Path: ryer
On a more groupwidely acceptable not, anyone out there know what the
pythons have been up to lately? Any movies coming out with any of the
guys in them? Just curious....
andrew
(o)(o) andrew m. ryer \Entropy requires/The future exists first in /\
(..)ry...@acsu.buffalo.edu/no maintainance.\Imagination, then in Will, /<>\
\/ ACS...@UBVMS.BITNET \ -Markoff Chaney/then in Reality. -Eve Hubbard/____\
******Disclaimer: With hackers these days, this might not even be me....******
andrew m ryer
Sorry, the news program butchered my post the first time....
andrew m ryer
________________________________________________________________________
/ Here we go again folx.... Just please, if you flame this person, don't \
| do it here. I think the general group has heard enough copyrighting ___/
| discussion. _______________________________________________________/
\_ _________/
\|
O
<I>
_/_\__
|SOAP|
------
I'll get of the soapbox now.
On a more groupwidely acceptable not, anyone out there know what the
pythons have been up to lately? Any movies coming out with any of the
guys in them? Just curious....
andrew