Za moje prijatelje
Phiber
See Yaa
--
**** 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 ****
**** 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. ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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.
**** 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 ****
**** 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
**** 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 ) ****
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 ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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 ) ****
**** 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. ****
[1676] MON 10/05/87 10:37 BST FROM JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK: Another one for the
collection; 55 LINES
(From Monty Python's Flying Circus)
Eric Idle: And now for something completely different. A man with
three buttocks!
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.
Michael Palin: Oh, sure.
Cleese: Ah well, er, Mr Frampton. Erm, is that chair comfortable?
Palin: Fine, yeah, fine.
Cleese: Mr Frampton, er, vis a vis your... (pause) rump.
Palin: I beg your pardon?
Cleese: Your rump.
Palin: What?
Cleese: Er, your derriere. (Whispers) Posterior. Sit-upon.
Palin: What's that?
Cleese (whispers): Your buttocks.
Palin: Oh, me bum!
Cleese (hurriedly): Sshhh! Well now, I understand that you, Mr
Frampton, have a... (pause) 50% bonus in the region of what you
say.
Palin: I got three cheeks.
Cleese: 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.
Palin: What? (to cameramen) 'Ere, get that away! I'm not taking
me trousers down on television. What do you think I am?
Cleese: Please take them down.
Palin: No!
Cleese: 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.
Palin: I been on Persian Radio, and the Forces' Network!
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
**** 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. ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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 ****
**** 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
**** 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.
**** 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
**** 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 ****
**** 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
the scream of a frightened hen, and stifled shout of alarm. We are still in
long shot and see nothing. The music stops abruptly on the crash.)
Pither (Voice Over): August 18th. Fell off near Bovey Tracey. The pump
caught in my trouser leg, and my sandwiches were badly crushed.
(Cut to interior of a transport cafe. A rather surly proprietor with fag in
mouth is operating an Espresso coffee machine. Pither, a fussy bespectacled
little man, in sweater, trousers, is leaning over the counter, talking
chattily).
Pither: The pump caught in my trouser leg, and my sandwiches were badly
crushed.
Prop: 35p. (He goes back to working the machine).
Pither: These sandwiches, however, were an excellent substitute.
(Enormous lorry driver comes up to counter)
Driver: Give us ten woods, Barney.
Pither: Hello!
(Lorry driver looks at him without interest, goes off with his cigarettes)
Pither: It's funny how one can go through life, as I have, disliking bananas
and being indifferent to cheese, and then be able to eat, and enjoy, a
banana and cheese sandwich like that.
Prop: 35p please. (A juke box starts up in the background)
Pither: Ah! I have only a 50. Do you have change?
Prop. (with heavy sarcasm): Well I'll have a look, but I may have to ring the
bank.
Pither: I'm most awfully sorry.
(Prop gives him change)
Prop: 15p.
Pither: Oh, that was lucky. Well, all the very best.
(Pither proffers his hand. Prop. ignores it)
Thank you for the excellent banana and cheese sandwich.
(He exits busily. Prop. looks after him, shakes his head, and absent-mindedly
opens a sandwich and flicks ash in, and closes it up again.)
(Cut to hedgerows. Theme music. Pither's head bobbing up and down. At the
same point in the music.... it disappears and there is a crash mingled with
grunting of pig.)
Pither (V.O.): August 23rd. Fell off near Budleigh Salterton.
(Cut to a woman gardening. Behind her we see Pither's head peering over the
hedge.)
Pither: ...and the pump caught in my trouser leg.
(She carries on digging, trying to ignore him)
Pither: And that's why they were damaged...(no reaction)...the eggs...you
remember...the hard-boiled eggs I was telling you about...(he comes round to
the gate and leans familiarly over the gate)...they were in a Tupperware
container, reputedly self-sealing, which fell open on contact with the
tarmacadam surface of the road. (He looks for a reaction. She goes on digging
very butch)...the B409...(he looks again for a glimmer of interest)...the
Dawlish road...(again no reaction) That shouldn't really happen to a
self-sealing container, should it?
(Lady gardener goes back into house. Pither waits for a few moments)
Pither (shouting): What do *you* keep your hard-boiled eggs in? (No reaction)
I think in future I shall lash them to the handlebars with
adhesive tape. That should obviate a recurrence of the
same problem...well I can't stop here all day...must get
on...I'm on a cycling tour of Cornwall.
(Cut to hedgerows again. Pither's head bowling along. Theme music. He dips
out of sight. Crash and a cow moos.)
Pither (V.O.): Aug. 26th. Fell off near Ottery St. Mary. The pump caught in
my trouser leg. Decide to wear short trousers from now on.
(Cut to another hedgerow. Pither's head bowling along. Short burst of music.
Crash.)
Pither (V.O.): Fell off near Tiverton. Perhaps a shorter pump is the answer.
(Cut to a tiny village high street, deserted save for an old lady. Pither
cycles into shot, carefully parks his bike by the kerb. He is in shorts, but
still has his bicycle clips on. He takes them off and approaches the old
lady.)
Pither: Excuse me, madam, can you tell me of a good bicycle shop in this
village, where I could find either some means of adapting my present
pump, or, failing that, purchase a replacement?
Old lady: There's only one shop here.
(She points with a shaking finger. Camera pans very slightly to
one side to reveal a shop with a huge four foot high sign:
"BICYCLE PUMP CENTRE. SPECIALISTS IN SHORTER BICYCLE PUMPS."
another sign: "SHORT PUMPS AVAILABLE HERE"
another sign: "WE SHORTEN PUMPS WHILE-U-WAIT"
The camera shows the shop only for a couple of seconds and pans
back to the old lady and Pither.)
Pither: What a stroke of luck. Now perhaps cycling will become less
precarious.
(Cut to int. of doctor's surgery. A knock on the door).
Doctor: Yes?
Nurse: (sticking her head around the door): There's a Mr. Pither to see you,
Doctor. His bicycle pump got caught in his sock.
Doctor: Alright, nurse, send him in.
(Nurse exits, Pither enters in shorts and sweater)
Doctor: Morning.
Pither: A very good morning to you too, Doctor
Doctor: I gather you had an accident?
Pither: Yes, my pump got...
Doctor: ...caught in your sock.
Pither: Yes, and my fruit cake was damaged on one side.
Doctor: Well...
Pither: It's got grit all over it.
Doctor: Well now, are you in pain? (reaching round for his stethoscope and
coming around desk)
Pither: Oh heavens no.
Doctor: Well where were you hurt?
Pither: I escaped without injury fortunately.
(Pause)
Doctor: Well what is the trouble?
Pither: Could you tell me the way to Iddesley?
Doctor: I'm a doctor, you know.
Pither: Oh yes. Under normal circumstances I would have asked a policeman or
a minister of the Church, but finding no one available, I thought it
better to consult a man with some qualifications, rather than rely on
the possibly confused testimony of a passer-by.
Doctor: Oh alright. (He scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it
to Pither) Take this to a chemist.
Pither: Thank you.
(Ching of door. Chemist comes out holding the paper and points up the street.
Pither thanks him and mounts his bike.
Cut to the hedgerows again. Pither's head. Theme music...reaches the point
where Pither normally falls off...his head disappears, the music cuts off...
no crash...suddenly Pither's head reappears further on and the music starts up
again)
Pither (V.O.): Sept 2nd. Did not fall off outside Iddesley.
(Cut to a small market town. Line of cars. Pither's head just above the roofs
of cars. Theme music. He suddenly disappears, the music stops and there is a
crash.)
Pither (V.O.): Fell off in Tavistock.
(Cut to a discreet corner of a Watney's pub. Carpet and soft music. A
middle-aged businessman and a sexy secretary who obviously want to be alone are
sitting huddled over a table. On the other side of the table is Pither, with
half pint in front of him.)
Pither: My leg got caught in my trousers and that's how the bottle broke.
Girl: Tell her today, you could ring her.
Man: I can't. I can't.
Pither: I said you'd never guess.
Man: 16 years we've been together. I can't just ring her up.
Girl: If you can't do it now, you never will.
Pither: Do you like Tizer?
Man (to Pither): What? No. No.
Girl: Do you want me or not? It's your decision, James.
Pither: I suppose it is still available in this area?
Girl: Do you want me or not, James?
Man: What?
Pither: Tizer.
Girl: Yes or no.
Pither: Is it still available in this area?
Man (to Pither): I don't know.
Girl: In that case it's goodbye for ever, James.
Man: No! I mean yes!
Pither: Oh it is?
Man (to Pither): No.
Girl: You never *could* make up your mind.
Man: I can.... I have....
Girl (taking off ring): Goodbye James. (She runs out sobbing.)
Man: No wait, Lucille!
Pither: And does your lovely daughter like Tizer?
Man: Lucille!
Pither: I wouldn't mind buying *her* a bottle of Tizer.... if it's available
in this area, that is.
Man (turning on Pither): Would you like me to show you the door?
Pither: Well that's extremely thoughtful of you, but I saw it on the way in.
Man: You stupid, interfering little rat.
Pither: Oh! The very words of the garage mechanic in Bude!
(The man picks Pither up by the scruff of the neck and the seat of his pants.
He carries him bodily towards the door.)
Pither: I had just fallen off...and my cheese tartlet had become embedded in
the...
Man: Damn your cheese tartlet! And damn you, sir!
Pither: ...dynamo hub... which was not at that time functioning...
(He is thrown out.)
(Cut to ext. of pub. Pither picks himself up. Sees girl outside sobbing.)
Pither: Just had a chat with your dad.
(Girl bursts into further tears. Whistling cheerfully, Pither gets on his
bicycle and, happier than he has been for a long time, he cycles off down the
road and round a corner. Sounds of car tyre screech and crash of Pither going
straight into a car.)
(Cut to interior of car speeding along highway. Pither is sitting in the back
seat with his bicycle. The driver, Mr Gulliver, is a bespectacled young man.
He talks with a professional precision.)
Pither: Yes...my rubber instep caught on the rear mud-guard stanchion and...
Gulliver: Really? And what happened to your corned beef rolls?
Pither: They were squashed out of all recog... here just a minute. How did
you know about the corned beef rolls?
Gulliver: I saw them - or what remained of them - on the road. I noticed also
that the lemon curd tart had sustained some superficial damage.
Pither: The curd had become...
Gulliver: Detached from the pastry base.
Pither (with some surprise): Yes.... that's absolutely right!
Gulliver: Otherwise the contents of the sandwich box were relatively unharmed,
though I detected small particles of bitumen in the chocolate cup
cakes.
Pither: But they were wrapped in foil!
Gulliver: Not the hard chocolate top, I'm afraid.
Pither: Oh dear, that's the bit I liked.
Gulliver: The ginger biscuit, the crisps and the sausage roll were unharmed.
Pither: How do you know so much about cycling?
Gulliver: I'm making a special study of accidents involving food.
Pither: Really?
Gulliver: Do you know that in our laboratories we have produced a cheese
sandwich that can withstand an impact of 4,000 lbs per square inch?
Pither: Good heavens!
Gulliver: Amazing, isn't it? We have also developed a tomato which ejects
itself when an accident is imminent.
Pither: Even if it's inside am egg and tomato roll?
Gulliver: Anywhere! Even if it's in your stomach, and it senses an accident
it will come up your throat and out of the window. Do you realise
what this means?
Pither: Safer food?
Gulliver: Exactly! No longer will food be damaged, crushed or squashed by the
ignorance and stupidity of the driver! (Becoming slightly messianic)
Whole picnics will be built to survive the most enormous forces!
Snacks will be stronger than ever! An ordinary pot of salad cream,
treated in our laboratories, has been subjected to the force of a
9,000 lb steam hammer every day for the last 6 years. And has it
broken?
Pither: Er....
Gulliver: Yes, of course it has! But there are other things that haven't!....
the safety straps for sardines for instance.
(A tomato leaps up out of the glove compartment and hovers, then it ejects
itself out of the car window)
Pither: That tomato just ejected itself.
Gulliver: Really?
Pither: Yes.
Gulliver (embracing Pither): It works! It works!
(Crash and cut to black.)
(Fade up on country road. Pither is cycling along with Gulliver on the back of
the bicycle. Gulliver has his head bandaged and his arm in a sling.
Occasionally strains of 'Jack in a box' by Clodagh Rogers float towards us as
Gulliver moves rhythmically.)
Pither (V.O.): What a strange turn this cycling tour has taken. Mr Gulliver
appears to have lost his memory and far from being interested in safer food is
now convinced that he is Clodagh Rogers the young girl singer. I am taking him
for medical attention.
(Cut to Pither and Gulliver cycling into hospital. Sign: "North Cornwall
District Hospital".)
(Cut to nurse receptionist at counter with glass window which lifts up and
down. Above window small notice: "Casualty Admissions". Pither appears)
Pither: Good afternoon... is this the Casualty Department?
Nurse: Yes, that's right.
(Noise of splintering wood and crash out of view. Pither and nurse look up.
Cut away to three benches under large 4 ft sign "Casualty". The front bench
has collapsed in the middle and half a dozen or so patients sitting on it have
slid into a heap in the middle. Some with scalded hands, bandages etc. some
with bloody heads. A negro nurse is on her way to assist. Cut back to Pither
and nurse.)
Nurse: What can I do for you?
(The window comes down on her fingers, she winces sharply in pain. She pushes
it up again).
Pither: Well, I am at present on a cycling tour of the North Cornwall area
taking in Bude and...
Nurse: Could I have your name please?
Pither: My name is Pither.
Nurse: Hm?
Pither: No... P I T H E R ... as in Brotherhood, but with PI instead of the
BRO and no HOOD.
Nurse: I see...
Pither: I had already visited Taunton...
(Terrific crash. Cut to trolley on its side, and a bandaged patient under a
mound of hospital instruments and a nurse standing looking down)
Nurse: Sh!
Pither: ...and was cycling north in...
Nurse: Where were you injured?
Pither: Just where the A397 Ilfracombe road meets the...
Nurse: No - on your body...
Pither: Ah no... it's not I who was injured, it's my friend.
(Nurse scowls, crumples up paper... and throws it away. The piece of paper
hits a smallish cabinet of glass which topples forward.)
Nurse: Tut... Name?
Pither: Pither.
Nurse (long sufferingly): Your *friend's* name.
Pither: Clodagh Rogers...
Nurse: Clodagh Rogers!
Pither: Well...since about 4:30....
Nurse: ...well I think you ought to tell Doctor Wu... Doctor!
(Cut to doctor on top of step ladder, unloading whisky from a crate balanced on
top of ladders into a medicine cupboard already stacked with whisky bottles.
Doctor whips round knocking off the crate of whisky.)
Doctor: What? Damn!
(Cut to patient in a wheelchair being pushed. The wheelchair completely
collapses and the nurse is left holding the handles. Quick cut to nurse as
window comes down on her fingers again.)
Nurse: Aaaaaagh!
(Doctor comes across to pither, limping slightly, in some pain.)
Doctor: Now, what's the trouble?
Pither: I am on a cycling tour of...
Nurse (nursing her fingers): He thinks he's had an accident.
Pither: Yes, I have friend who, as a result of his injuries, has become
Clodagh Rogers.
Doctor: Don't be silly, man; people don't just become Clodagh Rogers.
Pither: So you may think, but what happened in this case was...
(There is a terrifying crash)
(Cut to doors, which are flying open, knocking over a nurse with
a tray of surgical instruments. Gulliver comes in...)
Gulliver (rushing up to Pither): No time to lose - we must make for Moscow
tonight. (Grabs Pither and pulls him out.)
(The window comes down on the doctor's fingers.)
Doctor: Aaaaagh!
(Gulliver and Pither rush out of doors of Casualty Dept. They slam the door.
Casualty sign drops on the heads of the people on the third bench.)
(Cut to camp fire at midnight in a forest clearing. By the light
of the fire, Pither is writing up his diary.)
Pither (V.O.): Sept 4th. Well I never. We are now in the Alpes Maritimes
region of Southern France. Clodagh seems more intent on reaching Moscow than
on rehearsing her new BBC1 series with Buddy Rich and the Younger Generation.
(Gulliver enters the scene. His head is still bandaged but he has a goatee
beard.)
Pither: Hallo!
Gulliver: We cannot stay here. We must leave immediately. There is a ship at
Marseilles.
Pither: I did enjoy your song for Europe, Clodagh.
Gulliver: I have seen an agent in the town. My life is in danger.
Pither: Danger, Clodagh?
Gulliver: Stalin has always hated me.
Pither: No one hates you, Clodagh.
Gulliver: I will not let myself fall into the hands of these scum.
Pither: I suggest you have a little lie down, my dear. There is a busy day
of concerts and promotional visits tomorrow.
Gulliver: I. One of the founders of the greatest nation on earth. I! Who
Lenin called his greatest friend.
(From the darkness we hear French voices.)
M. Brun: Taissez-vous. Taissez-vous.
Pither: Oh dear.
Gulliver: I! who have fought and suffered that our people should live.
(Pair of middle class froggies in their prix-unis pyjamas appear.)
M. Brun: Taissez-vous. Qu'est-ce que le bruit? C'est impossible.
Pither: Er... my name is Pither.
M. Brun: Oh... you are English?
Pither: Er yes. I'm on a cycling tour of North Cornwall, taking in Bude.
Gulliver: I will not be defeated. I will return to my land and continue the
fight against this new tyranny.
Pither: This is Clodagh Rogers, the Irish-born girl singer.
Mme. Brun: Mais oui (sings) Jack-in-a-box, I know whenever love knocks (M.
Brun joins in) Eh!! Genevieve, Gerard. C'est Clodagh Rogers la
chanteuse Anglaise.
(Happy shouts from off as two small froggies in their teens appear in pyjamas
with autograph books and run up to Gulliver. Gen. offers her book to
Gulliver.)
Gulliver: They will never silence me. They will nev...
Gen.: Excusez-moi Mam'selle Clodagh. Ecrivez vous votre nom dans mon livre
des celebrites. (Gulliver takes book.) S'il vous plait. La,
au-dessous de Denis Compton. (Gulliver, having signed, hands the
book back.) Merci... oh! Maman. Ce n'est pas la belle Clodagh.
Mme. B.: Quoi?
Gen.: C'est Trotsky le revolutionaire.
M. B.: Trotsky!
Mme. B.: Trotsky ne chante pas.
M. B.: Un peu.
Mme. B.: Mais pas professionalement. Tu penses de Lenin.
M. B.: Lenin!! Quel chanteur: 'If I ruled the world'.
(Cut to stock shot of famous Lenin-addressing-the-crowd scene doctored so that
we can dub the words 'Every day would be the first day of spring' onto it.)
(Cut back to clearing as before.)
Gulliver: Lenin. My friend. I come. (He dashes off into the forest
possessed.)
Pither (aux Bruns): Oh excuse me, she's not very well you know, pressure of
work, laryngitis... (He gets on his bike and pedals off
hurriedly after Gulliver into the forest.)
M. Brun (still reminiscing): Et Kerensky avec le 'Little White Bull'.
Mme. Brun: Formidable.
(Cut to a few quick shots of Gulliver dashing through the trees and then of
Pither making much slower progress due to his bike.)
(Cut to a shot possibly of two frogs in a signal box, but probably a mundane
setting and it's not worth wasting too much time on, of Gulliver passing within
sight of the two aforesaid frogs, F1 and F2.)
F1 (seeing Gulliver): Maurice! Regardez! C'est la chanteuse Anglaise Clodagh
Rogers.
F2: Ah mais oui! (sings) Jacques dans la boite (he switches on a nearby horn
gramophone and the song is heard throughout the forest)
(Cut to Russian street. Pither cycles along with Gulliver, looking like
Trotsky, on the back.)
Pither (V.O.): After several days I succeeded in tracking down my friend Mr.
Gulliver to the outskirts of Smolensk.
(Cut to military man in studio. He has a large map of Europe and Russia and a
stick with which he raps at the places.)
Military man: Smolensk. 200 miles west of Minsk. 200 north of Kursk. 1500
miles west of Omsk.
(Cut back to Pither.)
Pither: Thank you.
(They've stopped by a signpost that says:
Smolensk Town Centre 1/2
Tavistock 1612 m. )
Pither (V.O.): Anyway, as we were so far from home, and as Mr. Gulliver, still
believing himself to be Trotsky, was very tired from haranguing the masses all
the way from Monte Carlo,
(Cut to military man who thumps the map again.)
Military man: Monte Carlo. 100 miles south of Turin. 100 west of Pisa. 500
miles east of Bilbao.
(Cut back to Pither.)
Pither: Thank you. I decided to check...
Pither (V.O.): I decided to check...
Pither: No, you go on.
Pither (V.O.): I decided to check him into a hotel while I visited the British
Embassy to ask for help in returning to Cornwall.
(By the end of this speech, they are leaving the bicycle on the kerb and
entering a door with the sign "Y.M.A.C.A." over it, looking like a Y.M.C.A.
sign. Over this...)
Pither (V.O.): And so we registered at the Smolensk Young Men's Anti-Christian
Association.
(Cut to military man.)
Military man: Y.M.C.A. Corner of Anti-semitic street and Pogrom square.
Pither (by now standing at the reception desk with Gulliver): Go away. (To
departing desk clerk). No not you. A single room for my friend please.
Desk clerk: Yes, sir. Bugged or unbugged?
Gulliver (as Trotsky): I think I'd feel happier with a bugged one.
Desk Clerk: One bugged with bath.
(As Gulliver starts to sign the register, Pither starts to leave. He says...)
Pither: Have a nice lie down. I'm just off to the Embassy. (He goes.)
(Desk clerk looks at book.)
Desk clerk: Trotsky! My lack of God, it's Trotsky!
(A couple of people race in excitedly.)
Gulliver: Comrades. Socialism is not a national doctrine it... (Fade.)
(Mix through to sign: "British Consulate Smolensk" sign is on railings
outside. Pither cycles up and parks his bike and goes in. Imperial music.)
(Mix through to interior... smoke and incense about. A picture of the queen
is dimly visible on the back wall. A Chinaman approaches.)
Pither: Excuse me. Is this the British Consulate?
Chinaman: Yes yes... si si... That is correctment. Yes... Piccadilly
Circus, mini-skirt... Joe Lyons.
Pither: I wish to see the Consul, please.
Chinaman: That's right. Speakee speakee... me Blitish consul.
Pither: Oh! (He examines his diary.) Are you... Rear Admiral Dudley de
Vere Compton Bart then?
Chinaman: No. He died. He have heart attack and fell out of window onto
exploding bomb, and was run over in shooting accident. Nasty
business. I his susscussor... how you say... succsussor.
Pither: Successor.
Chinaman: Successor yes... I his successor, Mr. Atkinson.
Pither: Oh, I see.
Atkinson: You like have drinkee? Game bingo?
Pither: Well.... a *drink* would be extremely pleasant.
(Atkinson snaps fingers. Another chink bows obsequiously.)
Atkinson: Mr. Robinson. Go and get Saki.
Robinson: Yes, Boss. (goes)
Atkinson: How is Tunbridge Wells? How I long to see once again walls of
Shakespeare-style theatre in Stratford-on-Avon.
Pither: I'm a West Country man myself, Mr. Atkinson.
Atkinson: Ho yes! Arizona -- Texas -- Kit Carson Super Scout.
Pither: No - West of England... Cornwall.
China (with difficulty): Coron... worll...
Pither: Cornwall.
Atkinson: Coronworl... oh yes know Coronworl very well. Go to school there,
Mother and Father live there, ah yes, have lots of friends there. Go
for weekend parties and polo playing cards and bridge in evening. Oh
yes belong to many clubs in Coronworld.
(Robinson reappears, with drink and plate of pastries. He puts them down.)
Atkinson: Ah, Mr. Rutherford, saki and bakewells tart.
(Hands glass of Saki to Pither.)
Atkinson: Well, old chap. Buttocks up!
Pither: Rather. (They drink.)
Atkinson: Now then Mr... er...
Pither: Pither.
Atkinson: Pither ah yes... fine old English name. My father he Pither, and
mother she Pither... all flends Pither... Now we Blitish here in
Smolensk velly intellested in playing clicket.
Pither: Cricket?
Atkinson: No... you not speak English velly wells. We like play *clicket*
- not
clicket - clicket...clicketty click...housey housey...Bingo.
Pither: Oh... Bingo...
Atkinson: Yes. Bingo.
Robinson: Bingo.
Atkinson (trying to get a grip on himself): Bingo.
Robinson: Bingo! Bingo!
(Hammering on door.)
Chinese V.O.s: Bingo Bingo Bingo! (etc)
(Three Chinese throw themselves out of a cupboard and throw themselves at
Pither's feet, imploringly.)
3 Chinese: Bingo! Bingo! Bingo!
Atkinson: Contloll. Contloll selves!
Robinson: (beating floor with fist): Bingo.
Atkinson: Mr. Richardson! Contloll self!
3 Chinese (under breath): Bingo....
Atkinson: Hsai! (turns to Pither) So solly. Boys get velly excited.
Robinson (quietly): Bingo.
China (close into Robinson's face): Shut face. (smiles at Pither)
Perhaps you help us join Bingo Club back in jolly old Blighty.
Pither: Well it's not quite my line...
Atkinson: You put in good word, me and flends join really smart Bingo club in
Coronwold...
Pither: Well...
Atkinson: We all velly quiet...sit at back...only shout "Housey!
Housey! y!"
(Obviously trying to control himself but it is too late.)
Robinson: Housey! Housey!
3 Chinese (still on floor): Housey! Housey!
Atkinson (with supreme effort of will): Contloll selves!!
(Hammering on doors and Chinese V.O.s sound of Chinese hordes from outside.)
Chinese (V.O.): Housey housey! Housey housey!
(Atkinson runs onto balcony. Shot of stock film of Chinese hordes.)
Chinese hordes: Housey housey! Housey housey!
Atkinson: Ni akawati nihi, keo t'sin feh t'sung, nihi *watai* bingo cards!
(There is a sudden silence from the invisible hordes below, except for slightly
shocked muttering. Atkinson turns, and goes back inside. Cut back to
interior. Atkinson stalks in looking grim.)
Robinson: Nihi *watai* bingo cards?
Atkinson: Nihi *watai*!
Robinson: Ah so... (he bows and falls back obediently.)
(Atkinson turns to Pither.)
Atkinson: Now then, Pither Mr, which do you think better, Hackney Star Bingo o r
St. Albans Top Rank Suite?
Pither: Well, Mr Atkinson, I was hoping that you could help me and my friend
to get back to England as...
Robinson (terribly quietly): Hackney Star Bingo. (Atkinson strikes Robinson
hard.)
Pither: I'm actually cycling to...
(One of the other Chinese falls to the floor.)
Chinaman on floor: Star Bingo! (He cowers as Atkinson turns on him and
strikes him.)
Atkinson: Controll selves!
2 other Chinamen (with awed reverence): Top Rank Bingo...
Atkinson: Shut faces!
All: Bingo... Top Rank... ahhhh!
(As the word Bingo starts to swell again from all those present and from the
hordes outside, Atkinson rushes around trying to silence them.)
Pither: Well I think I'll be off...
Atkinson: Please not go yet... (he has grabbed Robinson by the throat.)
Robinson (breathlessly): Wimbledon Granada Bingo.
Atkinson: Shut face. Please Mr. Bingo don't bingo yet... I mean bingo...
BINGO!
(Pither escapes as all available Simian lungs cry out.)
All: Bingo etc. etc.
Chinese hordes: Bingo!
(Chinese are climbing over the balcony. Cut to stock film of Chinese hordes
rioting.)
Hordes: Bingo! Bingo! Bingo!
(Cut to worried Director reading script: 'I'm sorry, News, I'd like to do it,
but...')
(Cut to Y.W.A.C.A. Lobby. Pither walks up to desk.)
Pither: Is Mr Trotsky in his room please?
Desk clerk: No. He has gone to Moscow.
(Cut to military man.)
Military man: Moscow. 1500 miles due East of...
Desk Clerk: Shut up!
Pither: Moscow!
(Pither is suddenly surrounded by four secret policemen dressed in heavy
trenchcoats and pork pie hats.)
Grip: Come with us please.
Pither: Who're you?
Bag: Well we're not secret police anyway.
Wallet: That's for sure.
Grip: If anything we are ordinary Soviet systems with no particular interest
in politics.
Bag: None at all. Come with us.
Pither: Where are you taking me?
(Secret police all move to confer.)
Wallet: What do we tell him?
Grip: Don't tell him any secrets.
Bag: Agreed.
Grip: Tell him anything except that we are taking him to Moscow to be present
as an Honoured Guest when Trotsky is reunited with the Central
Committee.
Wallet: We're taking you to a Clam Bake.
Pither: Oh a Clam Bake. I've never been to one of them.
Grip: Right, let's go.
Bag: Who's giving the orders round here?
Grip: I am. I'm senior to you.
Bag: No, you're not. You're a greengrocer, I'm an insurance salesman.
Grip: Greengrocers are senior to insurance salesmen.
Wallet: Cool it. Ice cream salesmen are senior to both of you.
Bag: You're an ice cream salesman? I thought you were a window-dresser.
Wallet: I got promoted. Let's go.
Bag: Taxi!
(Man enters dressed as a New York cabbie.)
Taxi: Yes.
Bag: Drive us to Moscow.
Taxi: I haven't got a cab.
Wallet: Why not?
Taxi: I'm in the Secret Police.
(They all snap into salute.)
(cut to stock film of train wheels in the night. The siren sounds.)
CAPTION: PETROGRAD.
CAPTION: OTTOGRAD.
CAPTION: LEWGRAD.
CAPTION: LESLIEGRAD.
CAPTION: ETCETERAGRAD.
CAPTION: DUKHOVSKOKNABILEBSKOHATSK.
CAPTION: MOSCVA.
*FIRST RUSSIAN HALL SET SCENE*
(C.U. Hammer and sickle flag. Pull out to reveal the stage of a big Russian
hall. A banner reads "U.S.S.R. 42nd annual clambake". At one side of the
stage sits an impressive table on a dais. At the table are very important
Russian persons. At a bank of mikes in centre stage a general is orating.
Pither sits on one side of the stage with his bike propped up against his
chair.)
General: ...Dostoievye unsye tovarich Trotsky borodins (Applause)
Subtitle: Here is the man who brought our beloved Trotsky back to us.
General: Beluntanks dretsky mihai ovna isky Reg Pither.
Subtitle: The friend of the Revolution - Reg Pither.
(Cut to stock shot of wildly cheering Russians.
Cut back to general who beckons for silence.)
General: Shi muska di svetsana dravenka upstomivia Engleska Vantyat.
Subtitle: And now, in order to save time, I will continue in English.
General: And now, Comrades, let us welcome the return of the greatest leader
of our revolution... Lev Davidovich Trotsky!
(Gulliver appears looking as much like Trotsky as possible.
Pandemonium breaks out. He raises his hands for silence.)
Gulliver: Comrades. Bolsheviks. Friends of the Revolution. I have returned.
(Renewed cheering.) The bloodstained shadow of Stalinist repression is past.
I bring you new light of permanent revolution (his movements are starting to
become a little camp and slinky). Comrades, I may once have been ousted from
power, I may have been expelled from the party in 1927, I may have been
deported in 1929 but (sings)
I'm just an old-fashioned girl,
With an old-fashioned mind.
(Shot of Pither looking amazed, and confusion among the generals.)
Gulliver: Comrades, I don't want to destroy in order to build, I don't want a
state founded on hate and division (sings)
I want an old-fashioned house
With an old-fashioned fence,
And an old-fashioned millionaire.
(Gulliver is now totally Eartha Kitt. Cut to Pither.)
Pither (thinking): Poor Mr. Gulliver was clearly undergoing another change of
personality.
(Senior general appears beside Pither with two guards.)
General: So! You have duped us. You shall pay for this. (To guards) Seize
him.
(The guards seize the startled Pither and drag him away. The senior general
strides back across the stage.)
General 2 (to boss general): Shall I seize *him*, sir? (indicates Gulliver)
Boss G.: Wait, I think he's going down well.
(Cut to audience really enjoying it.)
General 2: He's more fun than he used to be.
Boss G. (tapping fingers): This is an old Lenin number, you know.
(Interior of Empty Prison Cell. Pither is in cell writing diary. Sign behind:
'Condemned cell'.)
Pither (V.O.): April 26th. Thrown into Russian cell. Severely damaged my
Mars bar. Shall I ever see Bude Bus station again? Shall I
ever...
(Two guards enter)
Oh excuse me...
(Guards grab him and lead him out of cell.)
(Cut to exterior film of door leading out into prison yard. The door is thrown
open and Pither is marched over and stood against a blank wall. There are lots
of small holes in the wall, if Roger has time to drill them (!))
Pither (V.O.): What a pleasant exercise yard. How friendly they were all
being.
Officer: Cigarette?
Pither: No thank you I don't smoke.
(Cut to shot from behind Pither, including his back to see him facing a line of
uniformed men with guns, obviously a firing squad. At that moment a regular
slow measured drum beat starts, like the cliche.)
Pither (V.O.): After a few minutes I perceived a line of gentlemen with
rifles. They were looking in my direction...
(Cut to Pither against the wall, looking behind him.)
Pither (V.O.): I looked around but could not see the target.
Officer: Blindfold?
Pither (very cheerful): No thank you.
Officer (stepping clear): Slowotny.
(Firing squad snaps to attention.)
Officer: Gridenwa. (Clicking of bolts.)
(Cut to shot of firing squad and the officer, his front is to the camera.)
Officer: Verschnitzen.
(They raise their rifles pointing in the direction of Pither, who is in shot..
The drum starts to roll. Officer raises his arm. We hear running footsteps
approaching, and shouting Russian. Officer waits. A Russian soldier runs in
waving a telegram. he runs up and hands it to the officer.)
Officer (opens it and reads): It's from the Kremlin, the Central Committee!
It says "Carry on with the execution".
Officer: Verschnitzen! (They raise their rifles.)
Pither (V.O.): Now I was really for it.
(Cut to shot of officer with his hand raised, the same shot as before, only
without Pither in shot. Drum rolls again. He brings his sword down, (we need
a sword); volley of shots from the firing squad. Officer is looking in
Pither's direction. Long pause.)
Officer (turning to squad): How could you miss?
Soldier: He moved.
Officer: Shut up! Go and practise. (To Pither) I'm so sorry. Do you mind
waiting in your cell?
(Pither is flung back in his cell by guards. The door is slammed.)
Pither (V.O.): What a stroke of luck. My Crunchie was totally intact. I
settled down to a quick intermeal snack...
(Fade down. Fade up.)
(Pither has just finished his Crunchie.)
Officer (outside door): Aha! Gut!
(The guards race in and take him out. The door left open. We hear shouted
instructions. Drum roll then stop. Then a volley of shots. Pause. Sound of
feet coming back.
Pither is thrown into the cell, followed by the officer.)
Officer: Next time. Definitely! (To guard as he leaves) Now then, how many
of them are injured? Oh God...
(Close on Pither. Outside we hear odd shots and muffled curses from officer.)
Pither (V.O.): As I lay dwon to the sound of the Russian gentlemen practising
their shooting, I realised I was in a bit of a pickle. My heart sank as I
realised I should never see the Okehampton by-pass again... (he lies down)
(...we close on his sleeping face then we ripple and mix through to film of his
sleeping face, waking up, shaking himself in disbelief at finding himself in a
beautiful garden, with the sun shining, the birds singing, he is in a deck
chair, and his mother having poured him a jug of iced fruit juice, is gently
nudging Pither to wake him.)
Mother: Wake up dear, wake up.
Pither: Mother!
Mother: Come on dear.
Pither: So, it was all a dream.
Mother: No, no dear, *this* is the dream, you're still in the cell.
(Quick ripple to him waking up in cell.)
Pither: What a disappointment.
(The guards race in and take him out. The door left open. We hear shouted
instructions. Drum roll then stop. Then a volley of shots. Pause.
(Music?) Pither is thrown back into the cell followed by the officer.)
Officer: Next time. Definitely! (To guard as he leaves) Now then, how many
of them are injured? Oh god...
(Close up on Pither.)
(Officer enters.)
Officer: O.K. We're going to have another try. I think we've got it now. My
boys have all been looking down the wrong bit, see.
Pither: No, no, they want to look down this bit.
Officer: Oh I thought it was that bit.
Pither: No no this bit, otherwise you won't hit anything.
Officer: Alright, we'll give it a whirl. Seize him guards.
(They take him out.)
Officers (V.O.): Here, come here. You've got to look down this bit.
(We zoom into and mix through the poster on the wall, and the large name of
Eartha Kitt.)
(Mix through to stock film of the Kremlin. We dub over laughter and applause.
Cheerful band sting. Mix through to stage where someone dressed as Marshall
Bulganin is standing with a little real ventriloquist's dummy. He gets up and
takes his bow, walks off as the curtain swings down. Lots of applause and
atmosphere. Terrible Russian compere comes on from the wings smiling and
applauding.)
Compere: Osledi Osledi. (He tells quick joke in Russian, and roars with
laughter, laughter from audience.) (Holds up his hands, and then becomes very
sincere, saying obviously deeply moving, wonderful things about the next guest.
He finally introduces...)
Compere: Eartha Kitt!
(He backs off. The opening bars of "Let's do it" on (RCA Ints. 10 30 Eartha
Kitt, C'est si bon") are played. Gulliver dressed as Eartha Kitt slinks onto
the stage, the music stops. He speaks like...)
Heath: We in the Conservative party believe strongly in the virtues of
allowing the People of Britain to get on with the business of running their
affairs, of running their own lives, indeed of standing on their own two feet
without constant interference from the Government.
(Slight consternation from the audience.)
Voices say: "Niet Eartha Kitt" "Es Edward Heath" "Who?" "Der Premier Poofski
dos Britannia" etc. "Ah, Edward Heath, capitalist pig".
Gulliver (as Heath): We shall not shirk our responsibilities, nor desert our
principles.
(Cut to audience.)
Russian: It's Clodagh Rogers.
Other Russian: No, it's Edward Heath.
Another Russian: Sing "Old fashioned girl".
Gulliver: ...We shall remain united, in our determination...
Russians are shouting: Sing Old Fashioned girl. Old Fashioned girl. Old
Fashioned girl.
(The first fruit starts being thrown. It spatters around Heath.)
Gulliver: Furthermore I cannot reiterate too often our determination to
take responsibility for our own actions.
(He dashes off, comes back with large shield, with his arm through, he holds it
in front of him and on it there is a large picture of the face and shoulders of
Reginald Maudling (deceased).)
Gulliver: ...I'm very fond of Tchaikowsky.
(The fruit is now so thick, that it is impossible for him to continue. At this
moment a piece of fruit thrown from the audience hits him in the head (possibly
an arty shot in slow motion). The word 'Tchaikowsky' echoes around as we hold
a close shot of him, indicating that he is reverting to being really Gulliver
again. He looks at a piece of fruit in his hand that has landed on him.)
Gulliver (in original voice as used in car): Well that turnip's certainly not
safe. (He looks up and becomes more aware of his surroundings.) Good heavens.
What's going on? Mr Pither, Mr Pither!?
(At this point it is becoming precarious on stage -- some Russians are coming
across the footlights and the shouting is very angry -- so he turns tail and
runs off the stage).
(Cut to outside stage door.)
(Gulliver comes running out of the stage door past a big poster saying 'Next
week Clodagh Rogers with the Goodies', and runs down street closely pursued by
angry Russians.
There now follows a chase sequence which should be as dramatic as possible.
Lots of close shots of Gulliver looking frightened as he runs for his life
shouting 'Pither'. Close shots of Russians pursuing thin lipped and avenging,
some secret police, no longer comic, driving after Gulliver. Latterly they
fire at him. Gulliver, exhausted, finally turns into a cul-de-sac and stops,
realising that there is no escape. He shouts desperately one last time
'Pither', 'Mr Pither'. From over the wall of the cul-de-sac comes an answering
shout.)
Pither: Yes.
(Gulliver hears it, reacts and in the nick of time leaps onto a car and up and
over the wall as his pursuers turn into the street. Low angle shot from other
side of wall of Gulliver dropping over it. He lands.)
Pither: Gulliver.
Gulliver: Pither! What a stroke of luck.
Pither: Well yes and no. (He indicates with his head.)
(Cut to show that both of them are standing in front of a firing squad. The
officer is heard as before.)
Officer: Squad! Fix bayonets!
(With a terrifying clank the bayonets are fixed. Gulliver and Pither cower,
terror on their faces.)
Officer: Squad! Charge!
(The squad charge towards Pither and Gulliver screaming horribly.
When they are about two feet from them (!)...)
(Cut to Black.)
CAPTION --- SCENE MISSING
(Cut to Cornish country lane. A road sign says 'Tavistock 12 miles'. Pither
stands beneath with Gulliver and his bicycle.)
Pither: Phew, what an amazing escape.
Gulliver: Quite agree.
Pither: Well goodbye, Reginald.
Gulliver: Goodbye... George.
(They shake hands, Gulliver strides off. Pither mounts his bike and rides off
into the sunset. Music swells.)
**** end of file CYCLING PYTHON ****
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
**** 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 ****
**** 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
**** 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
**** 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
**** 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
**** 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?!
A: 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.)
Lancelot: 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 la Paune, le patabua! (corrections anyone?)
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 alarmed!
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. ****
**** 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
**** 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.)
Arthur: A blessing! A blessing from the Lord!
Lancelot: God be praised!
**** continued in FRENCH PYTHON, transcript #8 from the movie ****
**** end of file GRAIL PYTHON 3/30/86 M.M.D. ****
**** 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)
Die Jesu domine,
Dona eis requiem.
Die 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 ****
**** 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
**** 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
hospital. Then we took the coast road through Williton - we got all
the Taunton traffic on the A358 from Crowcombe and Stogumber.
Landlady: Well you must be dying for a cup of tea.
Johnson: Well, wouldn't say no, long as it's warm and wet.
Landlady: Well come on in the lounge, I'm just going to serve afternoon
tea.
Johnson: Very nice.
Landlady: Come on in, Mr and Mrs Johnson and meet Mr and Mrs Phillips.
Mr Phillips (Graham Chapman): Good afternoon.
Johnson: Good afternoon.
Landlady: It's their third time here; we can't keep you away, can we?
And over there is Mr Hilter.
(In the corner are three German generals in full Nazi uniform, poring over a
map.)
Hilter (Cleese with heavy German accent): Ach. Ha! Gut time, er, gut afternoon.
Landlady: Oho, planning a little excursion, eh, Mr Hilter?
Hilter: Ja, ja, ve haff a little... (to Palin) was ist Abweise bewegen?
Bimmler (Michael Palin, also with German accent): Hiking.
Hilter: Ah yes, ve make a little *hike* for Bideford.
Johnson: Ah yes. Well, you'll want the A39. Oh, no, you've got the wrong map
there. This is Stalingrad. You want the Ilfracombe and Barnstaple
section.
Hilter: Ah! Stalingrad! Ha ha ha, Heinri...Reginald, you have the wrong map
here you silly old leg-before-vicket English person.
Bimmler: I'm sorry mein Fuhrer, mein (cough) mein Dickie old chum.
Landlady: Oh, lucky Mr Johnson pointed that out. You wouldn't have had much
fun in Stalingrad, would you? Ha ha.
(stony silence)
I said, you wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you?
Hilter: Not much fun in Stalingrad, no.
Landlady: Oh I'm sorry. I didn't introduce you. This is Ron. Ron Vibbentrop.
Johnson: Oh, not Von Ribbentrop, eh?
Vibbentrop (Graham Chapman, with German Accent): Nein! Nein! Oh. Ha ha.
Different other chap. I in Somerset am being born. Von Ribbentrop is born
Gotterdammerstrasse 46, Dusseldorf Vest 8.....so they say!
Landlady: And this is the quiet one, Heinrich Bimmler.
Bimmler: Pleased to meet you, squire. I also am not of Minehead being born
but I in your Peterborough Lincolnshire was given birth to. But am
staying in Peterborough Lincolnshire house all time during vor, due
to jolly old running sores, and vos unable to go in the streets or to
go visit football matches or go to Nuremburg. Ha ha. Am retired
vindow cleaner and pacifist, without doing war crimes. Oh...and am
glad England vin Vorld Cup. Bobby Charlton. Martin Peters. And
eating I am lots of chips and fish and hole in the toads and Dundee
cakes on Piccadilly Line, don't you know old chap, vot! And I vos
head of Gestapo for ten years.
(Hilter elbows him in the ribs)
Ah! Five years!
(Hilter elbows him again, harder)
Nein! No! Oh. NOT head of Gestapo AT ALL! I was not, I make joke!
(laughs)
Landlady: Oh, Mr Bimmler. You do have us on! (Telephone rings) Oh excuse me.
I'd better get that.
Johnson: How long are you down here for, Mr Hilter, just the fortnight?
Hilter: Vot you ask that for, are you a spy? Get on against the wall,
Britischer Pig, you are going to die!
Bimmler: Take it easy, Dickie old chum!
Vibbentrop: He's a bit on edge, Mr Johnson, he hasn't slept since 1945.
Hilter: Shut your cake-hole, you Nazi!
Vibbentrop: Cool it, Fuhrer cat!
Bimmler: Ha ha, the fun we have!
Johnson: Haven't I seen you on the television?
Hilter, Vibbentrop, Bimmler: (hastily) Nicht. Nein. No.
Johnson: Simon Dee show, or was it Frosty?
Hilter, Vibbentrop, Bimmler: Nein. No.
Landlady: Telephone, Mr Hilter. It's Mr McGoering from the Bell and
Compasses. He says he's found a place where you can hire bombers by
the hour...?
Hilter: If he opens his big mouth again, it's Lapschig time!
Bimmler: Shut up! Ha ha, hire bombers! He's a joker, that Scottish person.
Vibbentrop: Good old Norman!
Landlady (to Johnson): He's on the phone the whole time now.
Johnson: In business, is he?
Bimmler: Soon, baby!
Landlady: Of course it's his big day Thursday. They've been planning it for
months.
Johnson: What's happening Thursday then?
Landlady: Well it's the North Minehead bye-election. Mr Hilter's standing as
the National Bocialist. He's got wonderful plans for Minehead!
Johnson: Like what?
Landlady: Well, for a start he wants to annex Poland.
Johnson: North Minehead's Conservative, isn't it?
Landlady: Well, yes, he gets a lot of people at his rallies.
(Short scene cut: huge crowds outside going "Sieg Heil. Sieg Heil. Sieg Heil.")
Hilter: I am not a racialist, but...and dis is a big but...the National
Bocialist party says that das (stream of German).
Bimmler: Mr Hitler (Hilter slaps him)
...Hilter says historically Taunton is a part of Minehead already!
Hilter: Und der Minehead ist nicht die letze (stream of German)...in die
Welt!
Crowd: Sieg Heil.
( Cut to interviews on the street: )
Yokel (Jones): Oi don't loike the sound of these 'ere Boncentration Bamps.
Woman (Idle): Well, I gave him my baby to kiss, and he bit it in the head!
Upper class (Cleese): Well, I think he'd do a lot of good to the Stock
Exchange.
Gumby (Palin): I THINK HE'S GOT BEAUTIFUL LEGS!
Conservative (Chapman): (droning) Well... well... as the Conservative
candidate I just drone on and on and on and on without
letting anyone else get a word in edgeways, until I
start to froth at the mouth and fall over backwards.
Ooo-aaahhh. (THUD)
**** ALL THINGS DULL AND UGLY ****
**** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album ****
**** transcribed May, 1986 and uploaded to CMS January 1987 ****
**** by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ) ****
All things dull and ug-ly,
All creatures, short and squat,
All things rude and na-sty,
The Lord God made the lot.
Each little snake that poisons,
Each little wasp that stings,
He made their prudish venom,
He made their horrid wings.
All things sick and cancerous,
All evil great and small,
All things foul and dangerous,
The Lord God made them all.
Each nasty little hornet,
Each beastly little squid,
Who made the spiky urchin?
Who made the sharks? He did!
All things scant and ulcerous,
All pox both great and small,
Putrid, foul and gangrenous,
The Lord God made them all.
Amen.
**** The Black Knight 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 #4 from the movie ****
**** (continued from #3, PEASANT PYTHON) ****
Arthur and his trusty servant Patsy "ride" along through the woods.
Suddenly they come apon a stream crossing where two knights are battling in a
heated duel with giant longswords. One is dressed in green and one in black.
Arthur stops and watches the fight.
The two knights attempt to maul each other in many various ways and with many
different tools of medieval weaponry. Finally, when the green knight is
charging the black with a battle axe, the black knight throws his sword
straight through the slit in the green knight's helmet. The green knight falls
to the ground, bleeding profusely. The black knight steps forward and pulls
his sword out of the helmet. King Arthur, impressed with the black knight's
fighting, motions to Patsy and they "ride" forward.
Arthur: You fight with the strength of many men, sir knight.
(The black knight does not respond)
Arthur: I am Arthur, king of the Britons.
(no response)
Arthur: I seek the finest and the bravest knights in the land to join me at my
court at Camelot.
(no response)
Arthur: You have proved yourself worthy. Will you join me?
(no response)
Arthur: You make me sad. So be it! Come, Patsy!
As Arthur and Patsy start to ride past the black knight, he suddenly speaks:
Black Knight: NONE SHALL PASS.
Arthur: (taken aback) What?
Black Knight: NONE SHALL PASS.
Arthur: I have no quarrel with you, good sir knight, but I must cross
this bridge.
Black Knight: THEN YOU SHALL DIE.
Arthur: I *command* you, as king of the Britons, to stand aside.
Black Knight: I MOVE FOR NO MAN.
Arthur: So be it! (draws sword)
A short battle ensues, where Arthur, relatively unencumbered by armor, easily
dodges the slow and heavy strikes by the black knight. Finally, Arthur
dodges a strike, steps aside, and cuts the black knight's left arm off with
his sword. Blood spurts from the knight's open shoulder.
Arthur: Now stand aside, worthy adversary.
Black Knight: 'Tis but a scratch.
Arthur: A SCRATCH? Your arm's off!
Black Knight: No it isn't!
Arthur: Well what's that then? (pointing to the arm lying on the ground)
Black Knight: I've had worse.
Arthur: You LIAR!
Black Knight: Come on, you pansy!
There follows an even shorter foray, at the end of which Arthur easily cuts
off the black knight's right arm, causing it and the black knight's sword to
drop to the ground. Blood spatters freely from the stump.
Arthur: Victory is mine!
(kneeling, praying) We thank thee Lord, that in thy mercy--
He is kicked onto his side by the black knight.
Black Knight: Come on, then! (kicks Arthur again)
Arthur: (on the ground) What?!?
Black Knight: (kicking him again) Have at you!
Arthur: (getting up) You are indeed brave, sir knight, but the fight
is mine!
Black Knight: Ohhh, had enough, eh?
Arthur: Look, you stupid bastard, you've got no arms left!
Black Knight: Yes I have!
Arthur: LOOK!!!
Black Knight: Just a flesh wound! (kicking Arthur again)
Arthur: Look, STOP that!
Black Knight: Chicken!!! Chicken!!!!!!!
Arthur: Look, I'll have your leg!
(The Black Knight continues his kicking)
Arthur: RIGHT! (He chops off the black knight's leg with his sword)
Black Knight: (hopping) Right! I'll do you for that!
Arthur: You'll *WHAT*?
Black Knight: Come 'ere!
Arthur: (tiring of this) What're you going to do, bleed on me?
Black Knight: I'm *INVINCIBLE*!!!
Arthur: You're a looney....
Black Knight: The Black Knight ALWAYS TRIUMPHS! Have at you!!
(hopping around, trying to kick Arthur with his one remaining
leg)
Arthur shrugs his shoulders and, with a mighty swing, removes the Black
Knight's last appendage. The Knight falls to the ground. He looks about,
realizing he can't move.
Arthur: Okay, we'll call it a draw.
Come, Pasty! (they "ride" away)
Black Knight: (calling after them) Oh! Had enough, eh? Come back and take
what's coming to you, you yellow bastards!! Come back here and
take what's coming to you! I'll bite your legs off!
**** Continued in transcript #5, WITCH PYTHON ****
**** End of file KNIGHT PYTHON 12/17/86 M.M.D. ****
**** "I've Got Two Legs" ****
**** From "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl" and ****
**** "Live at City Center 1974" ****
**** Transcribed 4/13/86 by Bret Shefter ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
Oh, I got two legs from my waist to the ground, and
When I move 'em they walk around, and
When I lift 'em they climb the stairs, and
When I shave 'em they ain't got hairs!
>bang!<
urx
**** FEAR NO MAN (Advertisement) ****
**** From Monty Python's Brand New Papperbok ****
**** Transcribed by Evil Dondi ( R747...@CMCCVB.BITNET ) ****
FEAR NO MAN!
I'll make you a MASTER of LLAP-Goch, ...the Secret Welsh ART of SELF
DEFENCE that requires NO INTELLIGENCE, STRENGTH or PHYSICAL courage. The
FANTASTIC SECRETS of the SECRET world-famous method of SELF DEFENCE, kept
secret for centuries because of their DEADLY POWER to MAIM, KILL, SMASH,
BATTER, FRACTURE, CRUSH, DISMEMBER, CRACK, DISEMBOWEL, CRIPPLE, SNAP and
HARM are now revealed to YOU in the English Language by a LLAP-GOCH
master AT HIS OWN RISK, PROVIDED you promise to MAIM, CRUSH, DISEMBOWEL
and so on ONLY in SELF DEFENCE. (This is just to cover ourselves, as you
will understand.)
WHY "At his own risk?"
BECAUSE if his fellow masters of LLAP-GOCH DISCOVER his IDENTITY, they
will PUNISH HIM SEVERELY for revealing the DEADLY secrets he had promised
to keep SECRET, without giving them a piece of the ACTION, and also
BECAUSE of the TERRIBLE risk of PUNISHMENT he runs under the Trades
Description Act.
WHAT is LLAP-GOCH?
IT is THE most DEADLY form OF SECRET self-DEFENCE that HAS ever been
widely advertised and available to EVERYONE.
WHY ALL the CAPITALS?
Because THE most likely kind OF person TO answer THIS sort OF advertise-
ment HAS less trouble under-STANDING words if they ARE written in BIG
letters.
WHAT is LLAP-GOCH again?
It is an ANCIENT Welsh ART based on a BRILLIANTLY simple I-D-E-A, which
is a SECRET. The best form of DEFENCE is ATTACK (Clausewitz) and the
most VITAL element of ATTACK is SURPRISE (Oscar HAMMERstein). Therefore,
the BEST way to protect yourself AGAINST any ASSAILANT is to ATTACK him
before he attacks YOU... Or BETTER... BEFORE the THOUGHT of doing so has
EVEN OCCURRED TO HIM!!! SO YOU MAY BE ABLE TO RENDER YOUR ASSAILANT
UNCONSCIOUS BEFORE he is EVEN aware of your very existence!
No longer need you feel WEAK, helpless, INDECISIVE, NOT fascinating and
ASHAMED of your genital dimensions. No more need you be out-manoeuvred
in political debate!! GOOD BYE HUMILIATION, wisecracking bullies, Karate
experts, boxing champions, sarcastic vicars, traffic wardens; entire
panzer divisions will melt to pulp as you master every situation without
INADEQUACY. PROTECT YOUR LOVED ONES. You will no longer look pitiful
and spotty to your GIRL FRIENDS when you leave some unsuspecting passer-
by looking like four tins of cat food! They will admire your MASTERY and
DECISIVENESS and LACK OF INADEQUACY and will almost certainly let you put
your HAND inside their BLOUSE out of sheer ADMIRATION. And after seeing
more of your expert disabling they'll almost definately go to bed with
you, although obviously we can't ABSOLUTELY guarantee this, still it's
extremely likely and would make learning LLAP-GOCH really worthwhile al-
though legally we can't PROMISE anything.
Why WELSH Art?
LLAP-GOCH was developed in Wales because for the average Welshman, the
best prospects of achieving a reasonable standard of living lie with the
acquisition of the most efficient techniques of armed robbery.
HOW do I learn?
No, you mean "How do YOU Learn." I know already.
HOW do You Learn?
You receive ABSOLUTELY FREE your own special personal LLAP-GOCH Picture
Book with hundreds of PHOTOGRAPHS and just a very few plain, clear and
simple, easy to understand words. Only a FOUR-SECOND WORK-OUT Each Day!
And you will be ready to HARM people!
* DEVELOP UP TO 38" BICEPS
* GROW UP TO 12" TALLER
* LOSE UP TO 40" OF FAT IN YOUR FIRST WORK-OUT!
* PROLONG YOUR LIFE BY UP TO 1,000 YEARS
* GO TO BED WITH UP TO ANY LUDICROUS NUMBER OF GIRLS YOU CARE TO THINK OF
PROVIDING YOU REALIZE THIS STATEMENT IS QUITE MEANINGLESS AS THE PHRASE
"UP TO" CLEARLY INCLUDES THE NUMBER "NOUGHT."
WHAT Does it Cost?
This, like LLAP-GOCH, is a SECRET but you will find out sooner or later,
don't worry. MAIL DARING HAIR-RAISING MONEY-SAVING HALF-PRICE NO-RISK
FREE-TRIAL COUPON NOW!
----------------------
O.K. Hounourable Master, I accept your daring, hair-raising, mind-
boggling, blood-curdling, no-risk, half-price, free-trial offer to reveal
the secrets of LLAP-GOCH in a plain wrapper at once. Yes Master, I never
again want to be 'Weak In The Knees' and 'Chicken Out' and 'Wet My Pants'
when insulted and attacked. I agree never to abuse the principles of
LLAP-GOCH or consult a lawyer. I am over 4. I have an extra Y chromo-
some. Bill me later. I understand that if I am not completely satisfied
I have been had.
NAME _________________ AGE __ ADDRESS _____________
CITY _______________ STATE ____________ ZIP _______
Please also enroll me under your special Car Insurance Scheme. I under-
stand that I do not have to sign anything to make this completely binding
to me.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
**** end of file LLAPGOCH PYTHON 5/10/87 ****
**** The Inalienable Rights scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed 5/13/86 by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS107124@YUSOL ) ****
(A huge Roman amphitheatre, sparsely attended. REG, FRANCIS, STAN and JUDITH
are seated in the stands. They speak conspiratorially.)
Judith: Any Anti-Imperialist group like ours must *reflect* such a
divergence of interests within its power-base.
Reg: Agreed.
(General nodding.)
Francis?
Francis: I think Judith's point of view is valid here, Reg, provided the
Movement never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every
man--
Stan: Or woman.
Francis: Or woman...to rid himself--
Stan: Or herself.
Reg: Or herself. Agreed. Thank you, brother.
Stan: Or sister.
Francis: Thank you, brother. Or sister. Where was I?
Reg: I thought you'd finished.
Francis: Oh, did I? Right.
Reg: Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man ...
Stan: Or woman.
Reg: Why don't you shut up about women, Stan, you're putting us off.
Stan: Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Reg.
Francis: Why are you always on about women, Stan?
Stan: (pause) I want to be one.
(pregnant pause)
Reg: What?
Stan: I want to be a woman. From now on I want you all to call me Loretta.
Reg: What!?
Stan: It's my right as a man.
Judith: Why do you want to be Loretta, Stan?
Stan: I want to have babies.
Reg: You want to have babies?!?!?!
Stan: It's every man's right to have babies if he wants them.
Reg: But you can't have babies.
Stan: Don't you oppress me.
Reg: I'm not oppressing you, Stan -- you haven't got a womb. Where's the
fetus going to gestate? You going to keep it in a box?
(Stan starts crying.)
Judith: Here! I've got an idea. Suppose you agree that he can't actually
have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the
Romans', but that he can have the *right* to have babies.
Francis: Good idea, Judith. We shall fight the oppressors for your right to
have babies, brother. Sister, sorry.
Reg: (pissed) What's the *point*?
Francis: What?
Reg: What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies, when he
can't have babies?
Francis: It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.
Reg: It's symbolic of his struggle against reality.
***** Here endeth Part Six of the Life of Brian (of Nazareth) *****
***** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or *****
***** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... *****
***** Dwayne A. X. E. E. (<CS107124@YUSOL>) *****
**** The Lumberjack Song ****
**** From "Monty Python's Flying Circus" ****
**** Transcribed from tape 3/6/87 by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** Continued from Petshop, Barber, or a variety of other Python sketches....
I never wanted to do this job in the first place!
I... I wanted to be...
A LUMBERJACK!
(piano vamp)
Leaping from tree to tree! As they float down the mighty rivers of
British Columbia! With my best girl by my side!
The Larch!
The Pine!
The Giant Redwood tree!
The Sequoia!
The Little Whopping Rule Tree!
We'd sing! Sing! Sing!
Oh, I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay,
I sleep all night and I work all day.
CHORUS: He's a lumberjack, and he's okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lava-try.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,
He goes to the lava-try.
On Wednesdays 'e goes shoppin'
And has buttered scones for tea.
CHORUS
I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing,
And hang around in bars.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around.... In bars???????
CHORUS
I chop down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspendies and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie
Just like my dear papa.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he wears high heels
Suspendies?? and a .... a Bra????
(spoken, raggedly) What's this? Wants to be a *girlie*? Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!
CHORUS
All: He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaaaayyy..... (BONG)
Sound Cue: The Liberty Bell March, by John Phillip Sousa.
-or-
===============================================================================
Dear Sir,
I wish to complain on the stronglyest possible terms about the previous
entry in this file about the lumberjack who wears womens' clothes. Some of
my best friends are lumberjacks, and only a FEW of them are transvestites.
Yours faithfully,
Brigadier Sir Charles Arthur Strong, Mrs.
P.S. I have never kissed the editor of the radio times.
*** end of file LUMBERJK PYTHON 3/6/87 MMD ****
**** Okay, Malcolm, you asked for it... ****
**** A very silly sketch called "'Me, Doctor?'" ****
**** from "Monty Python's Flying Circus" ****
**** Transcribed from memory or the script, who knows which, by ****
**** Bret Shefter '89 ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 3/28/86 ****
(Mr. Bertenshaw and his sick wife arrive at a hospital.)
Doctor: Mr. Bertenshaw?
Mr. B: Me, Doctor.
Doctor: No, me doctor, you Mr. Bertenshaw.
Mr. B: My wife, doctor...
Doctor: No, your wife patient.
Sister: Come with me, please.
Mr. B: Me, Sister?
Doctor: No, she Sister, me doctor, you Mr. Bertenshaw.
Nurse: Dr. Walters?
Doctor: Me, nurse...You Mr. Bertenshaw, she Sister, you doctor.
Sister: No, doctor.
Doctor: No doctor: call ambulance, keep warm.
Nurse: Drink, doctor?
Doctor: Drink doctor, eat Sister, cook Mr. Bertenshaw, nurse me!
Nurse: You, doctor?
Doctor: ME doctor!! You Mr. Bertenshaw. She Sister!
Mr. B: But my wife, nurse...
Doctor: Your wife not nurse. She nurse, your wife patient. Be patient,
she nurse your wife. Me doctor, you tent, you tree, you Tarzan, me
Jane, you Trent, you Trillo...me doctor!
Sergeant-Major: Stop this, stop this. What a silly way to carry on. What
do you want?
Customer: I wish to register a complaint.
Sergeant-Major: Well, this is a hospital. You want the pet shop in the
next file...
*** continued in PETSHOP PYTHON. ***
**** The Ralph Mellish Story ****
**** From "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and ****
**** "And Now for Something Completely Different" ****
**** Transcribed by Dave Bregman (FAC1037@UOFT01) ****
Ralph Mellish
<ominous music>
June the 4th, 1973, was much like any other summer's day in Peterborough,
and Ralph Mellish, a file clerk at an insurance company, was on his way
to work as usual when --- <da dum!> Nothing happened! <dum dum da dum>
Scarcely able to believe his eyes, Ralph Mellish looked down. But one
glance confirmed his suspicions. Behind a bush, on the side of the road,
there was *no* severed arm. No dismembered trunk of a man in his late
fifties. No head in a bag. Nothing. Not a sausage. For Ralph Mellish,
this was *not* to be the start of any trail of events which would not, in
no time at all, involve him in neither a tangled knot of suspicion, nor
any web of lies, which would, had he been not involved, surely have led
him to no other place, than the central criminal court of the Old Bailey.
<muttering voices, Judge's gavel banging.>
But it was not to be <ominous music returns>. Ralph Mellish reached his
office in Dulls-ells Street in Peterborough, at 9:05 a.m., exactly the
same time as he usually got in!
<door opens>
"Morning, Mr. Mellish"
"Morning, Enid"
Enid, a sharp-eyed, clever young girl, who had been with the firm for only 4
weeks, couldn't help noticing the complete absence of tiny but tell-tale blood
stains on Mr. Mellish's clothing. Nor did she notice anything strange in Mr.
Mellish's behaviour that whole morning. Nor the next morning. Nor at any time
before or since the entire period she worked for that firm.
"Have the new paper clips arrived, Enid?"
"Yes, they're over there, Mr. Mellish."
<faintly> "Oh..."
But for the lack of any untold circumstances for this secretary to
notice, and the total non-involvement of Mr. Mellish in anything illegal,
the forweight of the law would insure that Ralph Aulds Mellish would
have ended up like all who challenge the fundamental laws of our society.
In an iron coffin with spikes on the inside.
**** Gavin Millarrrrr writes: ****
**** from "Monty Python's Big Red Book" (new hardback edition) ****
**** Transcribed 9/17/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
Gavin Millarrrrrrrrrr [John Cleese] writes:
Neville Shunt's latest West End Success, "It all Happened on the 11.20 from
Hainault to Redhill via Horsham and Reigate, calling at Carshalton Beeches,
Malmesbury, Tooting Bec and Croydon West," is currently appearing at the Limp
Theatre, Piccadilly. What Shunt is doing in this, as in his earlier nine
plays, is to express the human condition in terms of British Rail.
Some people have made the mistake of seeing Shunt's work as a load of rubbish
about railway timetables, but clever people like me who talk loudly in
restaurants see this as a deliberate ambiguity, a plea for understanding in a
mechanised mansion. The points are frozen, the beast is dead. What is the
difference? What indeed is the point? The point is frozen, the beast is late
out of Paddington. The point is taken. If La Fontaine's elk would spurn Tom
Jones the engine must be our head, the dining car our oesophagus, the guards
van our left lung, the cattle truck our shins, the first class compartment the
piece of skin at the nape of the neck and the level crossing an electric elk
called Simon. The clarity is devastating. But where is the ambiguity? Over
there in a box. Shunt is saying the 8.15 from Gillingham when in reality he
means the 8.13 from Gillingham. The train is the same, only the time is
altered. Ecce homo, ergo elk. La Fontaine knew its sister and knew her bloody
well. The point is taken, the beast is moulting, the fluff gets up your nose.
The illusion is complete; it is reality, the reality is illusion and the
ambiguity is the only truth. But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the
box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. The point is
taken, the elk is dead, the beast stops at Swindon, Chabrol stops at nothing,
I'm having treatment and La Fontaine can get knotted.
**** end of file MILARRRR PYTHON 9/18/87 ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
**** The Dennis Moore Sketch ****
**** Transcribed 4/18/87 from Monty Python's Previous Record & TV Series ****
**** by Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
England, 1747
(Sounds of a coach and horses, galloping)
Cleese: Stand and deliver!
Chapman: Not on your life (SHOT) ... aagh!
(Girl screams)
Cl: Let that be a warning to you all. You move at your peril, for I have two
pistols here. I know one of them isn't loaded any more, but the other one
is, so that's one of you dead for sure...or just about for sure anyway. It
certainly wouldn't be worth your while risking it because I'm a very good
shot. I practise every day...well, not absolutely every day, but most days
in the week. I expect I must practise, oh, at least four or five times a
week...or more, really, but some weekends, like last weekend, there really
wasn't the time, so that brings the average down a bit. I should say it's
a solid four days' practice a week...At least...I mean...I reckon I could
hit that tree over there. Er...the one just behind that hillock. The
little hillock, not the big one on the...you see the three trees over
there? Well, the one furthest away on the right... (fade)
(Fade up again)
Cl: What's the... the one like that with the leaves that are sort of
regularly veined and the veins go right out with a sort of um...
Girl: Serrated?
Cl: Serrated edges.
Id: A willow!
Cl: Yes.
Id: That's nothing like a willow.
Cl: Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven times out of ten,
that's the point.
Id: Never a willow.
Cl: Shut up! It's a hold-up, not a Botany lesson. Now, no false moves
please. I want you to hand over all the lupins you've got.
Jones: Lupins?
Cl: Yes, lupins. Come on, come on.
Id: What do you mean, lupins?
Cl: Don't try to play for time.
Id: I'm not, but... the *flower* lupin?
Cl: Yes, that's right.
Jo: Well we haven't got any lupins.
Girl: Honestly.
Cl: Look, my friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express.
Jo: Damn!
Girl: Oh, here you are.
Cl: In a bunch, in a bunch!
Jo: Sorry.
Cl: Come on, Concorde! (Gallops off)
Chorus (sings):
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, galloping through the sward,
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, and his horse Concorde.
He steals from the rich, he gives to the poor,
Mr Moore, Mr Moore, Mr Moore.
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
**** The Knights Who Say "Ni!" ****
**** From, of course, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed (from memory even!) by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) on 4/6/86 ****
**** and corrected on 10/20/86 and again on 3/11/87. ****
**** Transcript #11 from the film; ****
**** Continued from #10, ANTHRAX PYTHON. ****
(After scene 24, which has not been transcribed due to its lack of funny bits,
Arthur and Bedevere find themselves in the middle of a forest. Suddenly,
they are surrounded by 8-foot-tall knights with horns on their helmets: the
infamous Knights of Ni.)
Knights of Ni: Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni!
Arthur: Who are you?
Knight of Ni: We are the Knights who say..... "Ni"!
Arthur: (horrified) No! Not the Knights who say "Ni"!
Knight of Ni: The same.
Other Knight of Ni: Who are we?
Knight of Ni: We are the keepers of the sacred words: Ni, Ping, and Nee-womm!
Other Knight of Ni: Nee-womm!
Arthur: (to Bedevere) Those who hear them seldom live to tell the tale!
Knight of Ni: The knights who say "Ni" demand..... a sacrifice!
Arthur: Knights of Ni, we are but simple travelers who seek the enchanter
who lives beyond these woods.
Knights of Ni: Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni!
Bedevere: No! Noooo! Aaaugh! No!
Knight of Ni: We shall say "Ni" again to you... if you do not appease us.
Arthur: Well what is it you want?
Knight of Ni: We want.....
(pregnant pause)
A SHRUBBERY!!!!
(minor music)
Arthur: A *WHAT*?
Knights of Ni: Ni! Ni!! Ni! Ni!
Arthur: No! No! Please, please, no more! We will find you a shrubbery.
Knight of Ni: You must return here with a shrubbery... or else you will never
pass through this wood... alive.
Arthur: O Knights of Ni, you are just and fair, and we will return with a
shrubbery.
Knight of Ni: One that looks nice.
Arthur: Of course!
Knight of Ni: And not *too* expensive.
Arthur: Yes!
Knight of Ni: Noowwwww.... GO!
(a brief glimpse of the now-dead historian, with his wife talking to two
policemen and pointing the way that the knight went)
(screen: THE TALE OF SIR LAUNCELOT, interrupted by the animation sketch
"Bloody Weather")
(screen: THE TALE OF SIR LAUNCELOT, this time followed by the Tale of Sir
Launcelot ( see SWAMP PYTHON, transcript #12 from the film ))
Scene: Arthur and Bedevere, in a nearby village, where an old crone is beating
a cat. They stop and talk to her.
Arthur: Old Crone! Is there anywhere in this town where we could buy a
*shrubbery*?
(minor music)
Old Crone: Who sent you?
Arthur: The Knights Who Say "Ni!".
Old Crone: Aaaugh! No. Never, we have no shrubberies here.
Arthur: If you do not tell us where we can buy a shrubbery, my friend and
I... will say... we will say... "Ni!".
Old Crone: Aaaugh! Do your worst!
Arthur: VERY WELL! If you will not assist us voluntarily.....
(he and Bedevere look around to see if anyone is looking)
Ni!
Old Crone: (in pain) No! Never! No shrubbery!!
Arthur: Ni!
Bedevere: Noo! Noo--
Arthur: (to Bedevere) No no no no, no, it's not that, it's "Ni!"
Bedevere: Nu!
Arthur: No no, "Ni!"; you're not doing it properly.
Bedevere: Nuh!
Arthur: "Ni!"
Bedevere: Ni!
Arthur: "Ni!" That's it, that's it, you've got it.
Bedevere: Ni!
Arthur and Bedevere, repeatedly: Ni! Ni!
(the old crone writhes in pain)
Roger rides up on a *real* horse and looks down at Arthur and Bedevere.
Rober: Are you saying "Ni!" to that old woman?
Arthur (caught in the act) Ummmm.... yes.
Rober: Oh, what sad times are there when passing ruffians can say "Ni!" at will
to old ladies! There is a pestilence in this land! Nothing is sacred!
Even those who arrange and design shrubberies are under considerable
economic stress at this period in history!
Arthur: Did you say "shrubberies"?
Roger: Yes. Shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the
Shrubber. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies.
Bedevere: (to Roger) Ni!
Arthur: (to Bedevere) No! No no no, no!
(scene change: Arthur and Bedevere standing in front of a low shrubbery,
surrounded by a 1-foot-high picket fence. The Knights of Ni are examining the
shrubbery.)
Arthur: O Knights of Ni. We have brought you your shrubbery. May we go now?
Knight of Ni: It is a good shrubbery. I like the laurels particularly.
But there is one small problem.
Arthur: What is that?
Knight of Ni: We are now *no longer* the Knights Who Say "Ni"!
Other Knights of Ni: Ni! Shh! Shh!
Knight of Ni: We are now the Knights who say "Ekky-ekky-ekky-ekky-z'Bang,
zoom-Boing, z'nourrrwringnmmm".
Other Knight of Ni: Ni!
Knight of Ni: Therefore, we must give you a test.
Arthur: What is this test, o Knights of.....
Knights who 'til recently said "Ni"?
Knight of Ni: Firstly, you must find....
ANOTHER SHRUBBERY!!!
(minor music)
Arthur: Not *another* shrubbery!!
Knight of Ni: (excitedly) THEN... Then, when you have found the shrubbery,
you must place it here, beside this shrubbery, only slightly
higher, so we get the two-level effect with a little path
running down the middle.
Other Knights of Ni: A path! A path! A path! Shh, shhh. Ni! Ni!
Knight of Ni: Then, when you have found the shrubbery, you must cut down the
mightiest tree in the forest...
Wiiiiiithh.... A HERRING!
(minor music)
Arthur: We shall do no such thing!
Knight of Ni: Oh, please!
Arthur: Cut down a tree with a herring? It can't be done!
Knights of Ni: AAugh! AAAAAH! Oww!! (writhe in pain)
Knight of Ni: Don't say that word!
Arthur: What word?
Knight of Ni: I cannot tell; suffice to say, it is one of the words the
Knights of Ni cannot hear!
Arthur: How we *not* say the word if you don't tell us what it is?!
(Knights of Ni are in pain again)
Knight of Ni: Ahhhh! 'E said it again!
Arthur: What, "is"?
Knight of Ni: No, not "is"! You wouldn't get very far in life not saying
"is"!
Bedevere: My liege! It's Sir Robin!
Sir Robin and his minstrels "ride" up.
Minstrels (singing): He's sacking it in, and packing it up,
and sneaking away, and buggering up,
And chickening out, and pissing a pole...
Arthur: Sir Robin!
Robin: My liege! It's good to see you!
Knight of Ni: Now *'e* said the word!
Arthur: Surely you've not given up the quest for the Holy Grail!
Minstrels, by way of answering:
He's sneaking away, and buggering up,
Robin: Shut Up!
No no, no, far from it!
Knight of Ni: 'E said the word again!
Robin: ...I was...looking for it...
Knights of Ni: AAAAAAAuugh!
Robin: uh, here--here in this...forest.
Arthur: No, it is far from this place.
Knight of Ni: Aaaaaaugh! Stop saying the word!!!!
Arthur: (getting really annoyed with the Knights of Ni) OH, STOP IT!!
Knight of Ni: Ow! He said it again!
Arthur: Patsy! (motions all of his party to move on)
Knight of Ni: Wait! I said it! I said it!
Oh! I've said it again!
And there again...that's three hits!
Arthur, Bedevere, and Sir Robin ride off with the minstrels and Patsy.
Voice over, with animation:
And so Arthur and Bedevere and Sir Robin set out on their search to find the
enchanter of whom the old man had spoken in Scene 24.
Beyond the forest they met Launcelot, and Galahad, and there was much
rejoicing.
In the frozen land of Nador, they were forced to eat Robin's minstrels...
and there was much rejoicing.
A year passed.
Winter changed into spring;
Spring changed into summer;
Summer changed back into winter;
And winter gave spring and summer a miss and went straight on into autumn.
Until one day.
(we skip the "tim the enchanter" scene and...)
**** continue in GRENADE PYTHON, transcript #13 in the film ****
**** end of file NI PYTHON, transcript #11 in the film ****
**** Nudge Nudge, know what I mean, know what I mean! ****
**** Transcribed from the "Monty Python Live at City Center" album ****
**** by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86 ****
Man: 'Evening, squire!
Squire: (stiffly) Good evening.
Man: Is, uh,...Is your wife a goer, eh? Know whatahmean, know whatahmean,
nudge nudge, know whatahmean, say no more?
Squire: I, uh, I beg your pardon?
M: Your, uh, your wife, does she go, eh, does she go, eh?
S: (flustered) Well, she sometimes "goes", yes.
M: Aaaaaaaah bet she does, I bet she does, say no more, say no more,
knowwhatahmean, nudge nudge?
S: (confused) I'm afraid I don't quite follow you.
M: Follow me. Follow me. That's good, that's good! A nod's as good as a
wink to a blind bat!
S: Are you, uh,...are you selling something?
M: SELLING! Very good, very good! Ay? Ay? Ay?
(pause)
M: Oooh! Ya wicked Ay! Wicked Ay! Oooh hooh! Say No MORE!
S: Well, I, uh....
M: Is, your uh, is your wife a sport, ay?
S: Um, she likes sport, yes!
M: I bet she does, I bet she does!
S: As a matter of fact she's very fond of cricket.
M: 'Oo isn't? Likes games, eh? Knew she would. Likes games, eh? She's been
around a bit, been around?
S: She has traveled, yes. She's from Scarsdale.
(pause)
M: SAY NO MORE!!
M: Scarsdale, saynomore, saynomore, saynomore, squire!
S: I wasn't going to!
M: Oh! Well, never mind. Dib dib?
Is your uh, is your wife interested in....photography, ay?
"Photographs, ay", he asked him knowlingly?
S: Photography?
M: Snap snap, grin grin, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?
S: Holiday snaps, eh?
M: They could be, they could be taken on holiday. Candid, you know,
CANDID photography?
S: No, no I'm afraid we don't have a camera.
M: Oh. (leeringly) Still, mooooooh, ay? Mwoohohohohoo, ay? Hohohohohoho, ay?
S: Look... are you insinuating something?
M: Oh, no, no, no...yes.
S: Well?
M: Well, you're a man of the world, squire.
S: Yes...
M: I mean, you've been around a bit, you know, like, you've, uh....
You've "done it"....
S: What do you mean?
M: Well, I mean like,....you've SLEPT, with a lady....
S: Yes....
M: What's it like?
**** The Peasant scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from the film by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) on 12/1/86, ****
**** expressly for use of the BBOARD@YALEVM Python Collection ****
**** This is transcript #3 from the movie ****
**** (film continued from DEAD PYTHON) ****
Arthur and his trusty servant Patsy "ride" into a field where peasants are
working. They come up behind a cart which is being dragged by a hunched-over
peasant in ragged clothing. Patsy slows as they near the cart.
Arthur: Old Woman!
The peasant turns around, revealing that he is in fact a man.
Man: Man!
Arthur: Man, sorry.... What night lives in that castle over there?
Man: I'm thirty-seven!
Arthur: (suprised) What?
Man: I'm thirty-seven! I'm not old--
Arthur: Well I can't just call you "man"...
Man: Well you could say "Dennis"--
Arthur: I didn't know you were called Dennis!
Man: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?!
Arthur: I did say sorry about the "old woman", but from behind, you looked--
Man: Well I object to your...you automatically treat me like an inferior!
Arthur: Well I *am* king...
Man: Oh, king, eh, very nice. And 'ow'd you get that, eh?
(he reaches his destination and stops, dropping the cart)
By exploiting the workers! By 'angin' on to outdated imperialist dogma
which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.
If there's ever going to be any progress,--
Woman: Dennis! There's some lovely filth down 'ere!
(noticing Arthur) Oh! 'Ow'd'ja do?
Arthur: How do you do, good lady. I am Arthur, king of the Britons. Whose
castle is that?
Woman: King of the 'oo?
Arthur: King of the Britons.
Woman: 'Oo are the Britons?
Arthur: Well we all are! We are all Britons! And I am your king.
Woman: I didn't know we 'ad a king! I thought we were autonomous collective.
Man: (mad) You're fooling yourself! We're living in a dictatorship! A
self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--
Woman: There you go, bringing class into it again...
Man: That's what it's all about! If only people would--
Arthur: Please, *please*, good people, I am in haste! WHO lives in that
castle?
Woman: No one lives there.
Arthur: Then who is your lord?
Woman: We don't have a lord!
Arthur: (spurised) What??
Man: I *told* you! We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune! We're taking
turns to act as a sort of executive-officer-for-the-week--
Arthur: (uninterested) Yes...
Man: But all the decisions *of* that officer 'ave to be ratified at a
special bi-weekly meeting--
Arthur: (perturbed) Yes I see!
Man: By a simple majority, in the case of purely internal affairs--
Arthur: (mad) Be quiet!
Man: But by a two-thirds majority, in the case of more major--
Arthur: (very angry) BE QUIET! I *order* you to be quiet!
Woman: "Order", eh, 'oo does 'e think 'e is?
Arthur: I am your king!
Woman: Well I didn't vote for you!
Arthur: You don't vote for kings!
Woman: Well 'ow'd you become king then?
(holy music up)
Arthur: The Lady of the Lake-- her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite,
held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by
divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why
I am your king!
Man: (laughingly) Listen: Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords
is no basis for a system of government! Supreme executive power
derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some... farcical
aquatic ceremony!
Arthur: (yelling) BE QUIET!
Man: You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some
watery tart threw a sword at you!!
Arthur: (coming forward and grabbing the man) Shut *UP*!
Man: I mean, if I went 'round, saying I was an emperor, just because some
moistened bink had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!
Arthur: (throwing the man around) Shut up, will you, SHUT UP!
Man: Aha! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!
Arthur: SHUT UP!
Man: (yelling to all the other workers) Come and see the violence inherent
in the system! HELP, HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!
Arthur: (letting go and walking away) Bloody PEASANT!
Man: Oh, what a giveaway! Did'j'hear that, did'j'hear that, eh? That's
what I'm all about! Did you see 'im repressing me? You saw it,
didn't you?!
**** Continued in File #4 from the movie, KNIGHT PYTHON ****
**** End of File PEASANT PYTHON 12/16/86 M.M.D. ****
**** The Penguin on top of the Tellyvision set ****
**** and The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots ****
**** from Monty Python's Flying Circus ****
**** Transcribed from memory by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 3/28/86, ****
**** and revised to 99 94/100% accuracy by R. "GUMBY" Preston ****
**** ( TAC...@GWUVM.BITNET ), 11/16/86. ****
(voice over) Number ninety-seven: a radio.
Radio Announcer: And now the BBC is proud to present a brand new radio drama
series, "The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots."
Part One: The Beginning.
(music)
Man's voice: Yoo arrr Mary, Queen of Scots?
Woman's voice: I am!
(sound of violent blows being dealt, things being smashed, awful crunching
noises, bones being broken, and other bodily harm being inflicted. All of
this accompanied by screaming from the woman.)
(music fades up and out)
Announcer: Stay tuned for part two of the Radio Four Production of "The Death
of Mary, Queen of Scots", coming up...almost immediately.
(music)
(sound of saw cutting, and other violent sounds as before, with the woman
screaming. Suddenly it is silent.)
Man's voice: I think she's dead.
Woman's voice: No I'm not!
(sounds of physical harm and screaming start again.)
(music fades up and out)
Announcer: that was episode two of "The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots",
specially adapted for radio by Gracie Fields and Joe Frazier. And
now, Radio Four will explode.
(music)
The radio explodes.
Two old women are sitting on the couch listening to the radio when it
explodes. One looks at the other:
1: We'll have to watch the Telly-vision!
2: Aaaaw. (sound of agreement)
(they turn the couch so it's facing the television. One turns the television
on, and they sit down. There is a small penguin sitting on top of the
television set.)
1 & 2: (singing, mumbled) hhmhmhmhmh... mhmmhmh mhmhm hhmhmmhm mhmhmmhmhmh
1: What's that on top of the telly-vision set?
(pause)
2: (matter-of-factly) Looks like a penguin.
(pause)
2: It's been a long time there, now, has it?
1: What's it doin' there?
2: Standin'!
1: I can see that!
(pause)
1: If it laid an egg, it would roll down the back of the telly-vision set.
2: Ummmm. I hadn't thought of that.
1: Unless it's a male.
2: Yes. It looks fairly butch.
(pause)
1: Per'aps it's from next door.
2: (yelling) NEXT DOOR?!? Penguins don't come from NEXT DOOR! They come
from the Antarctic!
1: (yet louder) BURMA!!!
(they both stop short, looking around)
2: Why'd'j say that?
1: I panicked.
2: Oh.
1: Per'aps it's from the zoo.
2: Which zoo?
1: (angrily) 'ow should I know which zoo it's from?!? I'm not Doctor bloody
Bernofsky!!
2: 'Oo's Doctor bloody Bernofsky?
1: He knows everything.
2: Oooh, I wouldn't like that, that'd take all the mystery out of life.
(pause)
2: Besides, if it were from the zoo, it'd have "property of the zoo"
stamped on it.
1: They don't stamp animals "property of the zoo"!! You can't stamp a
huge lion "property of the zoo"!!
2: (confidently) They stamp them when they're small.
1: (snapping back) What happens when they moult?
2: Lions don't moult.
1: No, but penguins do. THERE! I've run rings around you logically.
2: (looks at the camera) OOOOH! INTERCOURSE THE PENGUIN!!!
(The television warms up: a man is sitting behind a news desk)
Man: Hello! Well, it's just after eight o'clock, and time for the
penguin on top of your television set to explode.
(the penguin explodes)
1: 'Ow did 'e know that was going to happen?!
Man: It was an educated guess. And now:
Voice over: Number ninety-eight: the nape of the neck.
*** end of file PENGUIN PYTHON ***
**** The Pet Shop Sketch ****
**** From "And Now For Something Completely Different" ****
**** Transcribed from memory by Bret "<your advertisement here>" Shefter ****
**** ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 3/28/86 ****
**** and revised by Malcolm "Sleep. Who needs it?" Dickinson ****
**** ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/3/86. ****
*** Continued from the MEDOCTOR PYTHON file. ***
The Pet Shoppe
A customer enters a pet shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C: <pause> I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I
purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's
wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking
at one right now.
O: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian
Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
C: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up!
(shouting at the cage)
'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if
you show...(owner hits the cage)
O: There, he moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!!
Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up
in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
C: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
O: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
C: STUNNED?!?
O: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues
stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this.
That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein'
tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why
did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
O: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit,
squire? Lovely plumage!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home,
and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in
the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down,
it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
C: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts
through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!
O: No no! 'E's pining!
C: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased
to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft
of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be
pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off
the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run
down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
(pause)
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O: Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're
right out of parrots.
C: I see. I see, I get the picture.
O: <pause> I got a slug.
(pause)
C: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: Look, if you go to my brother's pet shop in Bolton, he'll replace
the parrot for you.
C: Bolton, eh? Very well.
The customer leaves.
The customer enters the same pet shop. The owner is putting on a false
moustache.
C: This is Bolton, is it?
O: (with a fake mustache) No, it's Ipswitch.
C: (looking at the camera) That's inter-city rail for you.
The customer goes to the train station.
He addresses a man standing behind a desk marked "Complaints".
C: I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.
Attendant: I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS JOB, YOU KNOW!!!
C: I beg your pardon...?
A: I'm a qualified brain surgeon! I only do this job because I like
being my own boss!
C: Excuse me, this is irrelevant, isn't it?
A: Yeah, well it's not easy to pad these python files out to 150 lines,
you know.
C: Well, I wish to complain. I got on the Bolton train and found myself
deposited here in Ipswitch.
A: No, this is Bolton.
C: (to the camera) The pet shop man's brother was lying!!
A: Can't blame British Rail for that.
C: In that case, I shall return to the pet shop!
He does.
C: I understand this IS Bolton.
O: (still with the fake mustache) Yes?
C: You told me it was Ipswitch!
O: ...It was a pun.
C: (pause) A PUN?!?
O: No, no...not a pun...What's that thing that spells the same backwards
as forwards?
C: (Long pause) A palindrome...?
O: Yeah, that's it!
C: It's not a palindrome! The palindrome of "Bolton" would be "Notlob"!!
It don't work!!
O: Well, what do you want?
C: I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as I think
this is getting too silly!
Sergeant-Major: Quite agree, quite agree, too silly, far too silly...
(takes customer by the arm) Come on, you, you've got to go
do another sketch now! Come on... (he walks off stage left,
followed by the director and cameramen, leaving the owner alone
on the set)
O: (to the audience) Well! I never wanted to do this in the first place.
I wanted to be...
A LUMBERJACK!
(he takes off his white lab coat to reveal a checkered
shirt and suspenders under it)
Floating down the mighty rivers of British Columbia!
With my best girl by my side! etc. etc. etc.
( continued in LUMBERJK PYTHON )
************************ Alternative Ending: **************************
C: Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)
C: Well.
(pause)
O: (quietly) D'you.... d'you want to come back to my place?
C: (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.
*** end of file PETSHOP PYTHON ***
**** The scene in Pilate's chamber from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed 6/21/86 by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS107124@YUSOL ) ****
(Brian is hauled into Pilate's audience chamber. It is big and impressive,
although a certain amount of redecorating is underway. The Centurion salutes.)
Centurion: Hail Caesar.
Pilate: Hail Caesar.
Centurion: Only one survivor, Sir.
Pilate: Thwow him to the floor.
Centurion: What, Sir?
Pilate: Thwow him to the floor.
Centurion: Ah!
(He motions to the two Roman guards, who throw Brian to the ground.)
Pilate: Now, what is your name, Jew?
Brian: Brian.
Pilate: Bwian, eh?
Brian: (trying to be helpful) No, *Brian*.
(The Centurion cuffs him.)
Pilate: The little wascal has thpiwit.
Centurion: Has what, sir?
Pilate: *THPIWIT*.
Centurion: Yes, he did, sir.
Pilate: No, no, thpiwit...bwavado...a touch of dewwing-do.
Centurion: (still not really understanding) Ah. About eleven, sir.
Pilate: (to Brian) So you dare to waid uth.
Brian: (rising to his feet) To what?
Pilate: Stwike him, centuwion, vewwy woughly.
Centurion: And throw him to the floor, Sir?
Pilate: What?
Centurion: THWOW him to the floor again, Sir?
Pilate: Oh, yeth. Thwow him to the floor.
(The Centurion knocks Brian hard on the side of the head again and
the two guards throw him to the floor.)
Pilate: Now, Jewith wapscallion.
Brian: I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Roman!
Pilate: *WOMAN*?
Brian: No, *ROMAN*.
(But he's not quick enough to avoid another blow from the Centurion.)
Pilate: Tho, your father was a *WOMAN*. Who wath he?
Brian: (proudly) He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrison.
Pilate: Oh. What was his name?
Brian: Nortius Maximus.
(An involuntary titter arises from the Centurion.)
Pilate: Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
Centurion: Well...no, sir.
Pilate: You sound vewwy sure...have you checked?
Centurion: Well...no, sir. I think it's a joke, sir...like...Sillius
Soddus, or...Biggus Dickus.
Pilate: What's so funny about Bigguth Dickuth?
Centurion: Well,...it's a...a joke name, sir.
Pilate: I have a vewwy gweat fwend in Wome called Bigguth Dickuth.
(Involuntary laughter from a nearby guard surprises Pilate.)
Pilate: Silence! What is all this insolence? You will find yourself in
gladiator school vewwy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.
(The guard tries to stop giggling. Pilate turns away from him. He is angry.) )
Brian: Can I go now sir...
(The Centurion strikes him.)
Pilate: Wait till Bigguth hears of this!
(The guard immediately breaks up again. Pilate turns on him.)
Pilate: Wight! Centuwion...take him away.
Centurion: Oh sir, he only....
Pilate: I want him fighting wabid wild animals within a week.
Centurion: Yes, sir.
(He starts to drag out the wretched guard. Brian notices that
little attention is being paid to him.)
Pilate: I will not have my fwendth widiculed by the common tholdiewy.
(He walks slowly towards the other guards.)
Pilate: Now...anyone else feel like a little giggle when I mention my fwend-
(He goes right up to one of the guards.)
Biggus ... Dickus. He has a wife you know.
(The guards tense up.)
Called Incontinentia.
(The guards relax.)
Incontinentia Buttockth!
(The guards fall about laughing. Brian takes advantage of the
chaos to slip away.)
Thilenth! I've had enough of this wowdy webel behaviour. Thtop it!
You call yourselves Pawaetonian guards? Thilence!
(But the guards are all hysterical by now. Pilate notices
Brian escaping.)
You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps. Theize him! Blow your noses and
theize him! Oh, my bum.
***** Here endeth Part Ten of Life of Brian (of Nazareth) *****
***** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or *****
***** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... *****
***** Dwayne A. X. E. E. (<CS107124@YUSOL>) *****
**** The "We Were Poor" Sketch ****
**** From "Monty Python Live at City Center" and ****
**** "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl" ****
**** Transcribed by Dave Bregman ( FAC...@UOFT01.BITNET ) ****
Four well-dressed men sitting together at a vacation resort. "Farewell
to Thee" being played in the background on Hawaiian guitar.
Michael Palin: Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable.
Graham Chapman: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier wine,
ay Gessiah?
Terry Gilliam: You're right there Obediah.
Eric Idle: Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin'
here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine?
MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup
o' tea.
GC: A cup ' COLD tea.
EI: Without milk or sugar.
TG: OR tea!
MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.
EI: We never used to have a cup. We used to have to drink out of a
rolled up newspaper.
GC: The best WE could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
TG: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
MP: Aye. BECAUSE we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money
doesn't buy you happiness."
EI: 'E was right. I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'. We used to
live in this tiiiny old house, with greaaaaat big holes in the roof.
GC: House? You were lucky to have a HOUSE! We used to live in one
room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture. Half the
floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for
fear of FALLING!
TG: You were lucky to have a ROOM! *We* used to have to live in a
corridor!
MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of livin' in a corridor! Woulda' been a
palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish
tip. We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting
fish dumped all over us! House!? Hmph.
EI: Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered
by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to US.
GC: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and
live in a lake!
TG: You were lucky to have a LAKE! There were a hundred and sixty
of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road.
MP: Cardboard box?
TG: Aye.
MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in
a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the
morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down
mill for fourteen hours a day week in-week out. When we got home,
out Dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!
GC: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock in
the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to
work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad
would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we
were LUCKY!
TG: Well we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox
at twelve o'clock at night, and LICK the road clean with our tongues.
We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four
hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we
got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.
EI: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night,
half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), eat a lump
of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill
owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home,
our Dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves
singing "Hallelujah."
MP: But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't
believe ya'.
ALL: Nope, nope..
**** The Rhubarb Tart song ****
**** Transcribed 2/3/87 by ****
**** Jonathan Partington ( JRP1%CAM.PHX%UK.AC.CA...@AC.UK ) ****
THE RHUBARB TART SONG
=====================
I want another slice of rhubarb tart.
I want another lovely slice.
I'm not disparaging the blueberry pie
But rhubarb tart is oh so very nice.
A rhubarb what? A rhubarb tart!
A whatbarb tart? A rhubarb tart!
I want another slice of rhubarb tart!
The principles of modern philosophy
Were postulated by Descartes.
Discarding everything he wasn't certain of
He said 'I think therefore I am a rhubarb tart.'
A rhubarb what? A rhubarb tart!
A Rene who? Rene Descartes!
Poor nut he thought he was a rhubarb tart!
Read all the existentialist philosophers,
Like Schopenhauer and Jean-Paul Sartre.
Even Martin Heidegger agrees on one thing:
Eternal happiness is rhubarb tart.
A rhubarb what? A rhubarb tart!
A Jean-Paul who? A Jean-Paul Sartre!
Eternal happiness is rhubarb tart.
A rhubarb tart has fascinated all the poets.
Especially the immortal bard.
He caused Richard the Third to call on Bosworth Field:
'My kingdom for a slice of rhubarb tart!'
A rhubarb what? A rhubarb bard!
Immortal what? Immortal tart!
As rhymes go that is really pretty bard!
-- John Cleese
To: CLARINET@YALEVMX
**** Brave and Bold Sir Robin -- his song ****
**** Transcribed, expressly for the python collection at BBoard@Yalevm ****
**** from the memory of Malcolm <Clar...@Yalevm.BitNet> Dickinson 4/6/86 ****
**** Corrections by Bret <She...@YaleVM.BitNet> Shefter 2/6/87 ****
**** Transcript #9 from the film. ****
**** Continued from transcript #8, FRENCH PYTHON ****
**** or from transcript #8A, STORY PYTHON. ****
** The Tale of Sir Robin. **
So, each of the knights went their separate ways.
Sir Robin rode north, through the dark forest of Ewing, accompanied by his
favorite minstrels.
Minstrel: song:
Bravely bold Sir Robin
Brought forth from Camelot.
He was not afraid to die,
Oh, brave Sir Robin!
He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways.
Brave, brave, brave Sir Robin.
He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp.
Or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken!
To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away
And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin.
His head smashed in and his heart cut out,
And his liver removed and his bowls unplugged,
And his nostrils raked and his bottom burnt off,
And his peni--
Robin: That's...That's, uh... That's enough music for now, lads. It looks
like there's dirty work afoot.
As mysterious music comes up, Robin and his minstrels pass Dennis, from the
PEASANT sketch, and his wife.
Dennis: Anarcho-syndicism is a way of *preserving* freedom!
His Wife: Oh, Dennis, *forget* about freedom! We 'aven't got enough mud!
They also pass three signs that read:
_________________ _______________________
(____ CAMELOT 43 ) ( CERTAIN DEATH 1 ______)
( CAMELOT 43 ) ( CERTAIN DEATH 1 )
( CAMELOT 43 ) ( CERTAIN DEATH 1 )
(____________) (_________________)
A little further on, he passes on the far side of a tree, on which, on the
near side, three knights are impaled on a single lance.
Suddenly, just as Sir Robin is at his most nervous:
-------- at this point, the movie and album go their separate ways: -----------
--------------------------------in the movie-----------------------------------
Three headed knight: HALT!!! WHO ART THOU???
Minstrel: He is brave Sir Robin, brave Sir Robin,
Who--
Robin: Shut up!!! (to the knight) Um, n-n-nobody, really, I-I-I-
J-Just, um, j-just passing through.
Three headed knight: WHAT DO YOU WANT???
Minstrel: To fight, and--
Robin: SHUT UP!!! Um, ooh, n-nothing, nothing, really, I-I-I,
j-just, just to, um, just to... p-p-pass through, good
sir knight?
Three headed knight: I'M AFRAID NOT!!!
Robin: Ah. (pause) Well, actually, I...I am a knight of the
round table....
Three-headed knight: You're a knight of the Round Table???
Robin: I am.
Three-headed knight:
Left: In that case I shall have to kill you.
Middle: Shall I?
Right: Oh, I don't think so.
Middle: Well what do I think?
Left: I think, kill it!
Right: Oh, Let's be nice to him.
Left: Oh, shut up!
Middle: Perhaps...
Left: And you! Quick, get the sword out, I want to cut 'is head off!
Right: Oh, cut your own head off.
Middle: Yes, do us all a favor!
Left: What?!!
Right: Yappin' on, all the time...
Middle: You're lucky; you're not next to him!
Left: What d'you mean??
Middle: You SNORE!
Left: Ooh, I don't! Anyway, you've got bad breath!
Middle: Well it's only 'cause you don't brush my teeth!
Right: Oh, stop bitching and let's go and have tea!
Left: All right, all right, all right. We'll kill him first, and then have
tea and biscuits.
Middle: Yes.
Right: Oh, Not biscuits.
Left: All right, all right, not biscuits, but let's KILL HIM ANYWAY.
All: RIGHT.
(pause: the three look around. No one is there.)
---------------------------------on the album----------------------------------
Voice over: YES!! It was the dreaded Three Headed Knight, the fiercest
creature for *yards* around!
For second.... after second..., Robin held his own, but the
onslaught proved too much for the brave knight. Scarcely was
his armor damp, when Robin suddenly, dramatically, changed his
tactics!
---------------------record and film in agreement again------------------------
Left: 'E's backed off!
Right: So 'e has, 'e's scarfed!
Minstrel: Robin:
Brave Sir Robin ran away. No!
Bravely ran away away.... I didn't!
When Danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled No!!
Yes brave Sir Robin turned about I didn't!
And gallantly chickened out..
Bravely taking to his feet I never did!
He beat a very brave retreat All lies!
Brave as ??-??, brave Sir Robin! I never!
Voice over from the album: Meanwhile, King Arthur and Sir Bedevere, not more
than a swallow's flight away, had discovered
something.
**** continued in transcript #10, NI PYTHON. ****
**** end of file ROBIN PYTHON 4/6/86 M.M.D. ****
**** ROCK NOTES ****
**** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album ****
**** transcribed May, 1986 and uploaded to CMS January 1987 ****
**** by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ) ****
Newscaster:
Rex Stardust, lead electric triangle with Toad the Wet Sprocket has had to
have an elbow removed following their recent successful worldwide tour of
Finland. Flamboyant ambidextrous Rex apparently fell off the back of a
motorcycle. "Fell off the back of a motorcyclist, most likely," quipped ace
drummer Jumbo McCluney upon hearing of the accident. Plans are already
afoot for a major tour of Iceland.
Divorced after only eight minutes, popular television singing star, Charisma,
changed her mind on the way out of the registry office, when she realized
she had married one of the Donkeys by mistake. The evening before in LA's
glittering nightspot, the Abitoir, she had proposed to drummer Reg Abbot
of Blind Drunk, after a whirlwind romance and a knee-trembler. But when
the hangover lifted, it was Keith Sly of the Donkeys who was on her arm
in the registry office. Keith, who was too ill to notice, remained
unsteady during the short ceremony and when asked to exchange vows, began
to recite names and addresses of people who also used the stuff. Charisma
spotted the error as Keith was being carried into the wedding ambulance
and became emotionally upset. However, the mistake was soon cleared
up, and she stayed long enough to consummate their divorce.
Dead Monkeys are to split up again, according to their manager, Lefty
Goldblatt. They've been in the business now ten years, nine as other
groups. Originally the Dead Salmon, they became for a while, Trout.
Then Fried Trout, then Poached Trout In A White Wine Sauce, and finally,
Herring. Splitting up for nearly a month, the re-formed as Red Herring,
which became Dead Herring for a while, and then Dead Loss, which reflected
the current state of the group. Splitting up again to get their heads
together, they reformed a fortnight later as Heads Together, a tight little
name which lasted them through a difficult period when their drummer was
suspected of suffering from death. It turned out to be only a rumor and
they became Dead Together, then Dead Gear, which lead to Dead Donkeys,
Lead Donkeys, and the inevitable split up. After nearly ten days, they
reformed again as Sole Manier, then Dead Sole, Rock Cod, Turbot, Haddock,
White Baith, the Places, Fish, Bream, Mackerel, Salmon, Poached Salmon,
Poached Salmon In A White Wine Sauce, Salmon-monia, and Helen Shapiro.
This last name, their favorite, had to be dropped following an injunction
and they split up again. When they reformed after a recordbreaking two
days, they ditched the fishy references and became Dead Monkeys, a name
which they stuck with for the rest of their careers. Now, a fortnight
later, they've finally split up.
(telephone ringing)
Hello.
"Hello"
Yes?
"What do you think of Dead Duck?"
What do I think of Dead Duck?
"or Lobster?"
Lobster?...
**** The Ovine Aviation sketch ****
**** From the first Monty Python's Flying Circus episode ever!!! ****
**** Transcribed 4/12/86 by (guess who?) ****
**** Bret "Yup, again" Shefter ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** Text first received from Leon Marr, whose userid is so secret that ****
**** even his mother knows it! ****
Ovine Aviation
(A tourist approaches a shepherd. The sounds of sheep and the outdoors
are heard.)
Tourist: Good afternoon.
Shephrd: Eh, 'tis that.
Tourist: You here on holiday?
Shephrd: Nope, I live 'ere.
Tourist: Oh, good for you. Uh...those ARE sheep aren't they?
Shephrd: Yeh.
Tourist: Hmm, thought they were. Only, what are they doing up in the trees?
Shephrd: A fair question, and one that in recent weeks 'as been much on my
mind. It's my considered opinion that they're nestin'.
Tourist: Nesting?
Shephrd: Aye.
Tourist: Like birds?
Shephrd: Exactly. It's my belief that these sheep are laborin' under the
misappre'ension that they're birds. Observe their be'avior. Take for
a start the sheeps' tendency to 'op about the field on their 'ind
legs. Now witness their attempts to fly from tree to tree. Notice
that they do not so much fly as...plummet.
<Baaa baaa...flap flap flap...whoosh...Thud.>
Tourist: Yes, but why do they think they're birds?
Shephrd: Another fair question. One thing is for sure, the sheep is not a
creature of the air. They have enormous difficulty in the
comparatively simple act of perchin'.
<Baaa baaa...flap flap flap...whoosh...thud.>
Trouble is, sheep are very dim. Once they get an idea in their
'eads, there's no shiftin' it.
Tourist: But where did they get the idea?
Shephrd: From Harold. He's that most dangerous of creatures, a clever sheep.
'E's realized that a sheep's life consists of standin' around for a
few months and then bein' eaten. And that's a depressing prospect for
an ambitious sheep.
Tourist: Well why don't just remove Harold?
Shephrd: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities if 'e succeeds.
**** "Sit on my Face" ****
**** from "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl" ****
**** Transcribed by Dave Bregman ( FAC...@UOFT01.BITNET ) ****
Sit on My Face
Sit on my face, and tell me that you love me.
I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too.
I love to hear you moralize,
When I'm between your thighs;
You blow me away!
Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you.
I'll sit on your face and let my love be truly.
Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine,
And we'll sit on our faces in all sorts of places and play,
'Till we're blown away!
**** The Spam Sketch ****
**** From the second series of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" ****
**** Transcribed 9/17/87 from "Monty Python's Previous Record" by ****
**** Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
(Spam = Spiced Pork And Ham, a sort of cheap luncheon meat)
Scene: A cafe. One table is occupied by a group of Vikings with horned
helmets on. A man and his wife enter.
Man (Eric Idle): You sit here, dear.
Wife (Graham Chapman in drag): All right.
Man (to Waitress): Morning!
Waitress (Terry Jones, in drag as a bit of a rat-bag): Morning!
Man: Well, what've you got?
Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam;
egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage
and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam
bacon spam tomato and spam;
Vikings (starting to chant): Spam spam spam spam...
Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked
beans spam spam spam...
Vikings (singing): Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!
Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a
Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with
truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.
Wife: Have you got anything without spam?
Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in
it.
Wife: I don't want ANY spam!
Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?
Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!
Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?
Vikings: Spam spam spam spam (crescendo through next few lines)
Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?
Waitress: Urgghh!
Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!
Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!)
Waitress: Shut up!
Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!
Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon
spam and sausage without the spam.
Wife (shrieks): I don't like spam!
Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it.
I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam
spam and spam!
Vikings (singing): Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!
Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.
Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?
Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and
the Vikings drown her words)
Vikings (singing elaborately): Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful
spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam!
Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam
spam spam!
**** end of file SPAM PYTHON 9/18/87 ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
**** The Spanish Inquisition Sketch ****
**** 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 ) 9/18/87 ****
Graham Chapman: Trouble at mill.
Carol Cleveland: Oh no - what kind of trouble?
Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treddle.
Cleveland: Pardon?
Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treddle.
Cleveland: I don't understand what you're saying.
Chapman: (slightly irritatedly and with exaggeratedly clear accent)
One of the cross beams has gone out askew on the treddle.
Cleveland: Well what on earth does that mean?
Chapman: *I* don't know - Mr Wentworth just told me to come in here and say
that there was trouble at the mill, that's all - I didn't expect a
kind of Spanish Inquisition.
(JARRING CHORD)
(The door flies open and Cardinal Ximinez of Spain (Palin) enters, flanked by
two junior cardinals. Cardinal Biggles (Jones) has goggles pushed over his
forehead. Cardinal Fang (Gilliam) is just Cardinal Fang)
Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is
suprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two
weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our
*three* weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an
almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.... Our *four*...no...
*Amongst* our weapons.... Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as
fear, surprise.... I'll come in again. (Exit and exeunt)
Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
(JARRING CHORD)
(The cardinals burst in)
Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such
diverse elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost
fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms - Oh damn! (To
Cardinal Biggles) I can't say it - you'll have to say it.
Biggles: What?
Ximinez: You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief weapons are ...'
Biggles: (rather horrified): I couldn't do that...
(Ximinez bundles the cardinals outside again)
Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
(JARRING CHORD)
(The cardinals enter)
Biggles: Er.... Nobody...um....
Ximinez: Expects...
Biggles: Expects... Nobody expects the...um...the Spanish...um...
Ximinez: Inquisition.
Biggles: I know, I know! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. In fact,
those who do expect -
Ximinez: Our chief weapons are...
Biggles: Our chief weapons are...um...er...
Ximinez: Surprise...
Biggles: Surprise and --
Ximinez: Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah!
...our chief weapons are surprise...blah blah blah. Cardinal,
read the charges.
Fang: You are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates commit heresy
against the Holy Church. 'My old man said follow the--'
Biggles: That's enough. (To Cleveland) Now, how do you plead?
Cleveland: We're innocent.
Ximinez: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
(Superimposed caption: 'DIABOLICAL LAUGHTER')
Biggles: We'll soon change your mind about that!
(Superimposed caption: 'DIABOLICAL ACTING')
Ximinez: Fear, surprise, and a most ruthless-- (controls himself with a
supreme effort) Ooooh! Now, Cardinal -- the rack!
(Biggles produces a plastic-coated dish-drying rack. Ximinez looks at it and
clenches his teeth in an effort not to lose control. He hums heavily to cover
his anger)
Ximinez: You....Right! Tie her down.
(Fang and Biggles make a pathetic attempt to tie her on to the drying rack)
Ximinez: Right! How do you plead?
Cleveland: Innocent.
Ximinez: Ha! Right! Cardinal, give the rack (oh dear) give the rack a turn.
(Biggles stands their awkwardly and shrugs his shoulders)
Biggles: I....
Ximinez: (gritting his teeth) I *know*, I know you can't. I didn't want to say
anything. I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake.
Biggles: I...
Ximinez: It makes it all seem so stupid.
Biggles: Shall I...?
Ximinez: No, just pretend for God's sake. Ha! Ha! Ha!
(Biggles turns an imaginary handle on the side of the dish-rack)
(Cut to them torturing a dear old lady, Marjorie Wilde).
Ximinez: Now, old woman -- you are accused of heresy on three counts -- heresy
by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action --
*four* counts. Do you confess?
Wilde: I don't understand what I'm accused of.
Ximinez: Ha! Then we'll make you understand! Biggles! Fetch...THE CUSHIONS!
(JARRING CHORD)
(Biggles holds out two ordinary modern household cushions)
Biggles: Here they are, lord.
Ximinez: Now, old lady -- you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin
of heresy, reject the works of the ungodly -- *two* last chances. And
you shall be free -- *three* last chances. You have three last
chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.
Wilde: I don't know what you're talking about.
Ximinez: Right! If that's the way you want it -- Cardinal! Poke her with the
soft cushions!
(Biggles carries out this rather pathetic torture)
Ximinez: Confess! Confess! Confess!
Biggles: It doesn't seem to be hurting her, lord.
Ximinez: Have you got all the stuffing up one end?
Biggles: Yes, lord.
Ximinez (angrily hurling away the cushions): Hm! She is made of harder
stuff! Cardinal Fang! Fetch...THE COMFY CHAIR!
(JARRING CHORD)
(Zoom into Fang's horrified face)
Fang (terrified): The...Comfy Chair?
(Biggles pushes in a comfy chair -- a really plush one)
Ximinez: So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft
cushions. Well, we shall see. Biggles! Put her in the Comfy Chair!
(They roughly push her into the Comfy Chair)
Ximinez (with a cruel leer): Now -- you will stay in the Comfy Chair until
lunch time, with only a cup of coffee at eleven.
(aside, to Biggles) Is that really all it is?
Biggles: Yes, lord.
Ximinez: I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we?
Confess, woman. Confess! Confess! Confess! Confess!
Biggles: I confess!
Ximinez: Not you!
**** end of file SPANISH PYTHON 9/18/87 ****
From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK
To: Clarinet@YALEVM
**** EVERY SPERM IS SACRED (Michael Palin & Terry Jones) ****
**** by Michael Palin and Terry Jones ****
**** from Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life" ****
**** Transcribed by Dave Bregman ( FAC...@UOFT01.BITNET ) ****
There are Jews in the world, there are Buddhists,
there are Hindus and Mormons and then
there are those that follow Mohammed -but-
I've never been one of them.
I am a Roman Catholic
and have been since before I was born,
and the one thing they say about Catholics is
they'll take you as soon as you're warm.
You don't have to be a six-footer.
You don't have to have a great brain.
You don't have to have any clothes on, you're
a Catholic the moment dad came
...Because...
Every sperm is sacred,
every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate. (2x)
Let the heathens spill theirs,
on the dusty ground.
God shall make them pay for
each sperm that can't be found.
Every sperm is wanted,
every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed,
in your neighborhood.
Hindu, Taoist, Mormon,
spill theirs just anywhere
but God loves those who treat their
semen with more care.
(misc choruses)
Every sperm is useful,
every sperm is fine.
God needs everybodies,
mine, and mine, and mine.
Let the pagans spill theirs
on mountain hill and plain.
God shall strike them down for
each sperm that's spilled in vain.
(misc. choruses and finale)
**** The Stoning scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian" ****
**** Transcribed 4/29/86 by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS107124@YUSOL ) ****
(The Stoning Place. A Jewish OFFICIAL stands there, with some helpers,
confronting the potential stonee, MATTHIAS. A large crowd watches. 90% are
women in beards. Around the perimeter are a few Roman troops.)
Official: Matthias, son of Deuteronomy of Gath ...
Matthias: (to Official's Helper): Do I say "Yes"?
Official's Helper: Yes.
Matthias: Yes.
Official: You have been found guilty by the elders of the town of uttering the
name of our Lord and so as a blasphemer you are to be stoned to
death.
Matthias: Look, I'd had a lovely supper and all I said to my wife was, "That
piece
Official: Blasphemy! He's said it again.
Women: Yes, he did.
Official: Did you hear him?
Women: Yes we did. Really.
Official: (suspiciously) Are there any women here today?
(The women all shake their heads. The Official faces Matthias again.)
Official: Very well, by virtue of the authority vested in me ...
(One of the women throws a stone and it hits Matthias on the knee.)
Matthias: Ow. Lay off. We haven't started yet.
Official: (turning around) Come on, who threw that?
(Silence.)
Who threw that stone? Come on.
Women: (pointing to the culprit, keeping their voices as low in pitch as
they can)
She did.
*He did.*
He. Him.
Culprit: (very deep voice) Sorry, I thought we'd started.
Official: Go to the back.
Culprit: Oh dear.
(disappointedly goes to back)
Official: There's always one, isn't there? Now, where were we? ...
Matthias: Look. I don't think it ought to be blasphemy, just saying
"Jehovah!"
(Sensation!!!! The women gasp.)
Women: (high voices) He said it again.
(low voices) He said it again.
Official: (to Matthias) You're only making it worse for yourself.
Matthias: Making it worse? How can it be worse? Jehovah, Jehovah, Jehovah.
(Great Sensation!!!!!!)
Official: I'm warning you. If you say "Jehovah" once more ...
(He gasps at his error and claps his hand over his mouth. A stone
hits him on the side of the head. He reacts.)
Right! Who threw that?
Women: (high voices)
It was her.
It was *him*.
(low voices)
It was him.
Official: Was it you?
Culprit: Yes.
Official: All right.
Culprit: Well, you did say "Jehovah."
(The women all shriek and throw stones at her from very close range. She falls
to the ground stunned. Quick cut of Romans reacting. They shake their heads
and mutter to each other.)
Official: Stop that. Stop it, will you stop that. Now look, no one is to
stone anyone until I blow this whistle. *Even*...and I want to
make this absolutely clear...*even* if they *do* say "Jehovah."
(There is a pause. Then all the women throw stones at the Official and he
goes down in a heap. Five women carry a huge rock, run up and drop it on the
Official. Everyone claps. The guards sadly shake their heads.)
***** Here endeth Part Four of Life of Brian (of Nazareth) *****
***** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or *****
***** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... *****
***** Dwayne A. X. E. E. (<CS107124@YUSOL>) *****
**** The Story of the Film So Far ****
**** from the Album of the Soundtrack of the Trailer of the Film of ****
**** "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed by Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
**** 10/30/86 ****
**** Transcript #8A from the Album; this scene follows ****
**** transcript #8, FRENCH PYTHON. ****
The Story of the Film So Far:
Doug and Bob are metropolitan policemen with a difference. Doug likes
nothing more than slipping into little cocktail frocks, while Bob bouffants
his hair for a night on duty. Still, as the art immace, no one gives their
last names.
The *Real* Story of the Film So Far:
Pucky Reginald Vas Deferens is a nuclear scientist in love with mafia boss
Enrico Marx, who is himself married to Conchito Macbeth, a lively belly-dancer
at the Belgian disco whose manager, Burly Ivan Crapp, has a naked daughter
Janice engaged to J.J. Spinman, New York private detective, employed by
elegant Laura Herron to trace the missing million-pound bidet that Hitler
gave to Eva Brown as a bar mitzvah present during a state visit to Crufts, and
which remained hidden until a World Cup referee, Horse Jenkenson, was found
hanged in a New Jersey tenement with the plans of a Russian secret weapon
partially tatooed on his elbow.
In Brisbon, the Brain brothers, Nicky and Vance, torture a Mayfair
psychologist, who reveals to Dora Brain in a tender and emotional death scene
that his hair is not his own.
Meanwhile, the Kent Touring Eleven have trapped husky Matilda Tritt on a
sticky near Hastings, and she reveals all before enforcing the follow army.
Peter Niesewand and Cyril Garfunkel arrive just in time with the Welsh Police,
and the Harry Orchestra, and proceed to sing a love song which allows Dr.
Indira McNorton *just* enough time to cross the alps into Geneva, where he
meets Kon Rapp, a kung fu fanatic and cat lover, who frivilously shoots him,
but not before introducing him to lively intelligent Norweigan widow Lanny
Krimt, who shows him her inner thighs, where he finds the address of a good
French restaurant, and unexpectedly meets Gabriello Machismo, an ex-Korean
plastic surgeon whose frankly blond assistant Sally Lesbitt is now the
half-brother of a distant cousin of Ray Vorn Ding-ding-a-dong, the Eurovision
song, and *owner* of the million-pound bidet given by Hitler to Eva Brown as a
bar mitzvah present during a state visit to Crufts, and which remained hidden,
etc. etc. etc.
This they now do.
Meanwhile, Harold and Victor Medway III discover a newfound love for each
other in an flashback near Devon, where they meet up with Doug and Bob, the
metropolitan policemen who suprisingly turn out to be in this film at all, who
kill everyone, and live happily ever after.
**** continued in trancript #9, ROBIN PYTHON. ****
**** end of file STORY PYTHON 10/13/86 M.M.D. ****
**** The string sketch ****
**** Transcribed from "The Instant Monty Python Record Collection" ****
**** by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 4/5/86. ****
Adrian Wapcaplet: Aah, come in, come in, Mr....Simpson. Aaah, welcome to
Mousebat, Follicle, Goosecreature, Ampersand, Spong, Wapcaplet, Looseliver,
Vendetta and Prang!
Mr. Simpson: Thank you.
Wapcaplet: Do sit down--my name's Wapcaplet, Adrian Wapcaplet...
Mr. Simpson: how'd'y'do.
Wapcaplet: Now, Mr. Simpson... Simpson, Simpson... French, is it?
S: No.
W: Aah. Now, I understand you want us to advertise your washing powder.
S: String.
W: String, washing powder, what's the difference. We can sell *anything*.
S: Good. Well I have this large quantity of string, a hundred and twenty-two
thousand *miles* of it to be exact, which I inherited, and I thought if I
advertised it--
W: Of course! A national campaign. Useful stuff, string, no trouble there.
S: Ah, but there's a snag, you see. Due to bad planning, the hundred and
twenty-two thousand miles is in three inch lengths. So it's not very
useful.
W: Well, that's our selling point!
"SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL STRINGETTES!"
S: What?
W: "THE NOW STRING! READY CUT, EASY TO HANDLE, SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL EMPEROR
STRINGETTES - JUST THE RIGHT LENGTH!"
S: For what?
W: "A MILLION HOUSEHOLD USES!"
S: Such as?
W: Uhmm...Tying up very small parcels, attatching notes to pigeons' legs, uh,
destroying household pests...
S: Destroying household pests?! How?
W: Well, if they're bigger than a mouse, you can strangle them with it, and if
they're smaller than, you flog them to death with it!
S: Well *surely*!....
W: "DESTROY NINETY-NINE PERCENT OF KNOWN HOUSEHOLD PESTS WITH PRE-SLICED,
RUSTPROOF, EASY-TO-HANDLE, LOW CALORIE SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL EMPEROR
STRINGETTES, FREE FROM ARTIFICIAL COLORING, AS USED IN HOSPITALS!"
S: 'Ospitals!?!?!?!!?
W: Have you ever in a Hospital where they didn't have string?
S: No, but it's only *string*!
W: ONLY STRING?! It's everything! It's...it's waterproof!
S: No it isn't!
W: All right, it's water resistant then!
S: It isn't!
W: All right, it's water absorbent! It's...Super Absorbent String!
"ABSORB WATER TODAY WITH SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL WATER ABSORB-A-TEX
STRINGETTES! AWAY WITH FLOODS!"
S: You just said it was waterproof!
W: "AWAY WITH THE DULL DRUDGERY OF WORKADAY TIDAL WAVES! USE SIMPSON'S
INDIVIDUAL FLOOD PREVENTERS!"
S: You're mad!
W: Shut up, shut up, shut up! Sex, sex sex, must get sex into it. Wait,
I see a television commercial-
There's this nude woman in a bath holding a bit of your string. That's
great, great, but we need a doctor, got to have a medical opinion.
There's a nude woman in a bath with a doctor--that's too sexy. Put an
archbishop there watching them, that'll take the curse off it. Now, we
need children and animals.
There's two kids admiring the string, and a dog admiring the archbishop
who's blessing the string. Uhh...international flavor's missing...make the
archbishop Greek Orthodox. Why not Archbishop Macarios? No, no, he's
dead... nevermind, we'll get his brother, it'll be cheaper... So, there's
this nude woman....
**** The opening scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from the film by ****
**** Malcolm Dickinson ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) on 12/1/86, ****
**** expressly for use of the BBOARD@YALEVM Python Collection ****
**** This is Transcript #1 from the movie ****
The film begins. Out of a dense fog trots Arthur, accompanied on two
empty coconut halves by his trusty servant, Patsy. They approach a
castle. Suddenly a guard appears atop a high rampart.
Guard: Halt! Who goes there?
Arthur: It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot.
King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, sovereign of all England!
Guard: Who's the other one?
Arthur: I am, and this is my trusty servant Patsy. We have ridden the length
and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my
court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master.
Guard: What, ridden on a horse?
Arthur: Yes.
Guard: You're using coconuts!
Arthur: What?
Guard: You've got two empty 'alves of coconuts and you're bangin' 'em
together!
Arthur: So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land.
Through the kingdom of Mercia, through...
Guard: Where'd you get the coconuts?
Arthur: (somewhat taken aback) We found them.
Guard: Found them? In Mercia? The coconut's tropical!
Arthur: What do you mean?
Guard: This is a temperate zone!
Arthur: The swallow may fly south with the sun, or the house maarten or the
plummer may seek warmer climes in winter, but these are not strangers
to our land!
Guard: Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?
Arthur: Not at all! They could be carried.
Guard: (indcredulous) What, a swallow, carrying a coconut?
Arthur: It could grip it by the husk!
Guard: It's not a question of where 'e grips it! It's a simple question of
weight ratios! A five-ounce bird could *not* carry a one-pound
coconut!
Arthur: (exasperated)
Well it doesn't matter! Will you go and tell your master that Arthur
from the court of Camelot is here!
(pause)
Guard: Listen. In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to
beat its wings forty-three times every second, right?
Arthur: Please!
Guard: (patiently) Am I right.
Arthur: I'm not interested!
( A second guard appears on the rampart. )
G2: It could be carried by an African swallow!
G1: Oh, yeah, an African swallow, maybe, but not a European swallow, that's
my point.
G2: Oh, yeah, I agree with that.
Arthur: (extremely exasperated) Will you ask your master if he wants to join
my court at Camelot!!
(pause)
G1: But then of course, African swallows are non-migratory.
G2: Oh yeah...
(Arthur and Patsy give up and trot away)
G1: So they couldn't bring a coconut back anyway.
G2: Wait a minute! Supposing *two* swallows carried it together!
G1: Nooo..... They'd have to have it on a line...
G2: Well, simple! They'd just use a strand of creeper!
G1: What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers?
G2: Well, why not?
**** continued in DEAD PYTHON, transcript #2 in the movie ****
**** end of file SWALLOW PYTHON 12/1/86 MMD ****
**** The Tale of Sir Launcelot: SWAMP PYTHON ****
**** From "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Laboriously plagiarized by Bret "zzzz...." Shefter ****
**** ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) on the tenth day of April in the year of ****
**** our Bret 1986 ****
**** Laboriously corrected by Malcolm Dickinson ****
**** ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 10/30/86 and a bit more again on 3/11/87 ****
**** Transcript #12 from the Film ****
**** Continued from the middle of transcript #10, NI PYTHON ****
THE TALE OF SIR LAUNCELOT
As Sir Launcelot, the boldest and most expensive of the knights, lost his way
in the Forest of Ewing, at nearby Swamp Castle, a celebration was underway.
Setting: A small garret room in the Tall Tower of Swamp Castle.
The King and his son the Prince.
King: (gesturing expansively out the window) One day, lad, *all* this will be
yours.
Son: What, the curtains?
King: No, not the curtains, lad! All that you can see, stretched out over the
'ills and valleys of this land. That'll be your kindom, lad.
Son: But, Mother...
King: Father, lad, Father.
Son: But, Father, I don't want any of that.
King: Listen, lad: I built this kingdom up from nuthin'. When I started
here, all of this was swamp! Other kings said it was *daft* to build a
castle in a swamp, but I built it all the same, just to show 'em! It
sank into the swamp. SO, I built a second one! That sank into the
swamp. So I built a *third* one. That burned down, fell over, *then*
sank into the swamp. But the fourth one......stayed up. And that's what
you're gonna get, lad: the *strongest* castle in these islands.
Son: But I don't want any of that! I'd rather...
King: Rather what?
Son: I'd rather...just...sing!......
<music up>
King: Stop that! Stop that! You're not going into a song while I'm here!
<music dies away>
Now, listen, lad. In twenty minutes you're gettin' married to a girl
whose father owns the biggest *tracts* of open land in England.
Son: But I don't want land!
King: Listen, Alice...
Son: 'Erbert...
King: 'Erbert. We live in a bloody swamp! We need all the land we can get!!
Son: But... but I don't *like* 'er!
King: don't like 'er?!? What's wrong with 'er? She's... beautiful, she's...
*rich*, she's got... HUGE............. tracts o' land...
Son: Ah...ah know. But I want the girl that I marry to have... a
certain...*special*...something... <music up>
King: Cut that out!! Cut that out.... <grabs the prince>
<music dies away>
You're marryin' Princess Lucky, so you'd better get used to the idea!
<slaps the prince>
GUARDS!!! <two guards come in>
Make sure the prince doesn't leave this room until I come and get 'im.
<starts to go>
Guard 1: <repeating> Not to leave the room, even if you come and get 'im.
Guard 2: *Hic*
King: Nono.... *Until* I come and get him.
Guard 1: Until you come and get him, we're not to enter the room.
King: <stops> Nono, no... You *stay* in the room, and make sure *he*
doesn't leave.
Guard 1: And you'll come and get him.
Guard 2: *Hic*
King: Right.
Guard 1: We don't need to do anything, apart from just stop him, entering the
room.
King: Nono. *Leaving* the room.
Guard 1: Leaving the room, yes.
King: All right?
Guard 1: 'Right.
King: Right. <goes out the door>
Guard 1: Oh! If if if uhhhh.... if if uhhhhh.... If if if we......
King: <coming back in> Yes, what is it?
Guard 1: Oh. I-if....... Oh.... (forgetting)
King: Look, it's quite simple.
Guard 1: Uh.....
King: You just stay here, and make sure 'e doesn't leave the room.
All right?
Guard 2: *hic*
Guard 1: Oh, I remember! Uhhhh, can he leave the room with us?
King: No...nono, no. You just keep him in 'ere, and make sure...
Guard 1: Oh yes, we'll keep him in here, obviously, but if he *had*
to leave, and we *were* with him...
King: nononono just KEEP HIM IN HERE
Guard 1: ...Until you or anyone else...
King: No, not anyone else, just me...
Guard 1: ...Just you...
Guard 2: *hic*
King: Get back.
Guard 1: Get back.
King: All right?
Guard 1: Right, we'll stay here until you get back.
Guard 2: *hic*
King: <pause> And, uh... make sure 'e doesn't leave.
Guard 1: What?
King: <pause> Make sure 'e doesn't leave!
Guard 1: The prince??????
King: Yes, MAKE SURE 'E DOESN'T LEAVE...
Guard 2: *hic*
Guard 1: Oh, yes, of course!! I thought you meant him! <motions towards
the second guard> You know, it seemed a bit daft me having to guard
him when 'e's a guard...
King: <pause> Is that clear?
Guard 1: Oh, quite clear, no problems!
Guard 2: *hic*
King: Right. <starts to leave. The guards follow him>
Where are *you* going?
Guard 1: We're coming with you!
King: Nono, I want you to *stay* here and MAKE SURE 'E DOESN'T LEAVE!
Guard 1: Oh, I see, right!
Son: <plaintively> but father...
King: Shut your noise, you! And get that suit on. <leaves>
<music up>
<king re-enters>
AND NO SINGING!
Guard 2: *hic*
King: Oh, go and get a glass of water. (leaves)
The Prince looks at the guards. They look at him. He smiles. They smile
back. He gets a pen a paper out. He smiles at them. They smile back.
He scribbles something on it very fast, not looking at it. He smiles at the
guards. They smile back. The Prince gets a bow and arrow from the wall.
He sticks the note on the arrow. He smiles at the guards. They smile back.
He side-steps to the window. He smiles at the guards. They smile back.
He shoots the arrow with the note out the window. He puts down the bow.
He smiles at the guards. They smile back.
Guard 2: *Hic*
Meanwhile, at a nearby stream, Sir Launcelot approaches. We hear horse's
hooves in the distance. Sir Launcelot appears, followed by Concorde, who is
banging two coconut halves together to make the noise of a horse. They are
crossing a stream by jumping between the boulders that lie in it.
Launcelot: <they jump from one rock to the next> Well taken, Concorde!
Concorde: Thank you, sir! Most kind!
Launcelot: And again..... oooover we go. <jumps to another rock>
<Concorde makes the jump behind him>
Launcelot: Good.... Steady.....
And now, the big one... <jumps> Come on, Concorde!
<an arrow whizzes through the air and embeds itself in Concorde>
Concorde: (as he falls) Message for you, sir. (he falls)
Launcelot: Concorde!! Concorde, speak to me!
(spies the arrow and unwraps the message)
<reads> "To whoever finds this note. I have been...*imprisoned* by
my father who wishes me to marry against my will, please please
please come and rescue me. I am in the Tall Tower of...Swamp
Castle." At last! A call, a cry of distress! This could be the
sign that leads us to the Holy Grail! Brave, brave Concorde, you
shall not have died in vain!
<starts to draw sword>
Concorde: Uh... I--I'm not quite dead, sir!
Launcelot: (a bit put off) Well...you shall not have been *mortally wounded*
in vain! <draws sword>
Concorde: I--I think I--I could pull through, sir.
Launcelot: (a bit more put off) Oh, I see.
Concorde: Actually, I think I'm allright to come with you, sir--
Launcelot: No no, sweet Concorde, stay here. I will send help as soon as I've
accomplished a daring and heroic rescue in my own particular...
<pauses, trying to think of word. Gives up...>
Concorde: Idiom, sir?
Launcelot: Idiom!
Concorde: No, I feel fine, actually--
Launcelot: Farewell, sweet Concorde!!
<runs off, leaving Concorde looking after him perplexedly>
Concorde: (pause) I'll just stay here, then, shall I, sir? ... Yeah.
(drums fingers)
Scene: The drawbridge of Swamp Castle. Two guards standing here looking very
bored. Off in the distance, they see Launcelot running towards them
waving his sword in the air. They look at each other, then back at
Launcelot. They seem confused. He does not get any closer, though he
he keeps running. The guards look at each other again. One taps his
forehead. They lean on their pikes and idly watch Sir Launcelot
still running towards them and getting nowhere. They look at each
other. Suddenly Launcelot appears right next to them and runs one of
them through. He dies, considerably surprised. Launcelot runs in.
Other guard: (ineffectually) Hey...
Launcelot runs through the castle, slicing, dicing, grating, mincing,
and otherwise generally killing the entire populace. He fights his
way up to the Tower through the throngs of bewildered wedding guests.
He reached the Tower and throws open the door.
Guard 1: Hello! Now, you're not allowed to enter the roo-- Urgh.
<dies, run though>
Guard 2: *Hic* <also run through>
Launcelot: <kneeling before the white-garbed figure in the room> O fair one,
behold your humble Sir Launcelot of Camelot. I have come to take--
<sees it's a man, gets up immediately> Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
Prince: <claps hands delightedly> You got my note!
Launcelot: Ah, well, I--I got, uh, *a* note....
Prince: You've come to rescue me!!
Launcelot: Ah, well, no, you see, um--
Prince: I *knew* some one would!
I knew that somewhere out there, there must be, *someone*--<music up>
King: <barging in, quite upset> Stop that, Stop that, STOP IT! STOP IT!!
<music out> (to Launcelot) 'Oo are you?
Prince: (hurt) I'm your son!
King: (to son) No, not *you*!!!
Launcelot: Uh, I am Sir Launcelot, sir.
Prince: (proudly) 'E's come to rescue me, Father!
Launcelot: Well let's not jump to conclusions--
King: (to Launcelot) Did you kill all those guards?!
Launcelot: (trying to remember) Uhhh...
(suddenly) Oh yes! (highly embarrassed) Sorry....
King: They cost fifty pounds each!
Launcelot: Well I'm awfully sorry... Um, I really *can* explain everything--
Prince: Don't be afraid, Sir Launcelot! I've got a rope all ready! (displays
rope made of shredded bedsheets and ties one end to bedpost)
King: You killed eight wedding guests in all!
Launcelot: Well you see the thing is, I thought your son was a *lady*....
King: I can understand that!
Prince: (climbing out window) Hurry, Sir Launcelot! Hurry!
King: SHUT UP!! (to Launcelot) You only killed the bride's father, that's
all!!!
Launcelot: Well, I really didn't *mean* to....
King: Didn't MEAN to?!? You put your *sword* right through 'is 'ead!!!
Launcelot: Oh, dear! Is he all right?
King: You even kicked the bride in chest! This is going to cost me a
fortune....
Launcelot: Well I can explain; I was in the forest, um, riding north from
Camelot when I got this note, you see--
King: (abruptly) Camelot? Are you from, uh, Camelot?
Son: (outside window) Hurry, Sir Launcelot!
Launcelot: Uh...I am a knight of King Arthur, Sir.
King: Very nice Castle, Camelot, uh...very good pig country!
(pause)
Launcelot: Is it?
Prince: Hurry, I'm *ready*!!!
King: Would you, uh, like to come 'n' have a drink?
<goes to window, draws dagger>
Launcelot: Well, that--that's awfully nice of you--
Prince: (from outside) I am ready!!
Launcelot: --I mean, to be so understanding, um--
<The King cuts the blanket-rope, which slithers out the window>
Prince: Ooh!
Launcelot: --I'm afraid when I am in this sort of idiom, I sometimes get a bit
, um, sort of carried away....
King: Oh, don't worry about that--
<they leave the room>
Prince: (splat)
Sir Launcelot and the king are going down the stairs.
King: Now, this is the main hall. (gesturing) We're going to have all this
knocked through, and made into one big, uh, living--
One of the remaining guests looks up and, upon recognizing Launcelot as the one
who caused all the damage, shouts, "There he is!"
King: Oh, bloody 'ell.
Launcelot draws his sword and goes beserk again, accompanied by the
appropriate fighting music and action.
Launcelot is at last subdued before causing too much damage, save only kicking
the bride again, and the King brings things back to order.
King: Stop! Stop! Hold it, hold it, please!
Launcelot: (very embarrassed) Sorry. Sorry! You see what I mean, I just get
carried away, I'm really most awfully sorry.
(to all) Sorry! Sorry, everyone....
Guest: 'E's killed the best man!
King: Ladies and gentlemen. This is Sir Launcelot, a very brave and
influential knight, and my special guest here today.
Guest: He killed my auntie!
King: Please! This is supposed to be a...*happy* occasion! Let's not
*bicker* and *argue* about 'oo killed 'oo! We are here today to witness
the union of two young people in the joyful bond of a holy wedlock.
(groans)
Unfortunately, one of them, my son 'Erbert has just fallen to 'is death.
(gasps) But, I like to think I've lost a son, so much as gained a
daughter. (weak applause)
For, since the tragic death of her father...
Voice: He's not quite dead....
King: (thrown) Since the near-fatal *wounding* of 'er father....
Voice: 'E's getting better!
King: <whispers to a guard, who circles towards the back of the room, where the
father lies> For, since her own father, who, when 'e seemed about to
recover, suddenly felt the icy hand of death upon him...
(thump)
Voice: He's died!!
King: I want his only daughter to look upon me as her own Dad, in a very real,
and legally binding sense. (more weak applause)
And I feel sure that the merger--er, the *union*,--between the princess
and the brave but *dangerous* Sir Launcelot of Camelot--
Launcelot: <taken aback> What?
Someone: Look! The Dead Prince! (general reaction)
Concorde: <entering with the Prince in his arms> He's not *quite* dead!
Prince: No, I feel much better!
King: You fell out of the Tall Tower, you creep!!!
Prince: No, I was saved at the last minute.
King: 'Ow?
Prince: Well, I'll tell you:
<music starts>
King: Not like that! Not like that! No! Stop it! STOP!<but it is too late>
Guests: He's going to tell,
he's going to tell,
he's going to tell,
he's going to tell!
He's going to tell,
he's going to tell,
he's going to tell,
he's going to tell!
Concorde: <suddenly appearing out of the crowd> Quickly, sir, come this way!
Launcelot: No, no! It doesn't fit my idiom! I must escape more........
(sigh)
Concorde: Dramatically, sir?
Launcelot: Dramatically! <grabs bell pull>
Runs up stairs. Jumps in the air. Swings down towards the window.
Falls about twelve feet short, having not given himself a very good
start. Swings back and forth for a short time.>
'Scuse me, could, uh, could someone give me a push, please?
**** Continued in the middle of NI PYTHON, transcript #11 from the film ****
**** End of file SWAMP PYTHON, transcript #12 from the film ****
**** A trial scene from Monty Python ****
**** Transcribed 8/15/87 by Jonathan Partington ( JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ) ****
Bailiff (Cleese): I'm sorry I'm late, m'lud, I couldn't find a kosher car
park. Don't bother to recap, m'lud, I'll pick it up as we go
along. Call Mrs Fiona Lewis.
(Enter Chapman, in drag)
Fiona Lewis (Chapman): I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth, so anyway, I said to her, I said, they
can't afford that on what he earns, I mean for a start
the feathers get up your nose, I ask you, four and
sixpence a pound, and him with a wooden leg, I don't
know how she puts up with it after all the trouble
she's had with her you-know-what, anyway, it *was* a
white wedding, much to everyone's surprise, of course
they bought everything on the hire purchase, I think
they ought to send them back where they came from, I
mean you've got to be cruel to be kind, so Mrs Harris
said, so she said she said she said, a dead crab she
said she said? well her sister's gone to Rhodesia,
what with her womb and all, and her youngest, fit as a
filing cabinet, and the goldfish, the goldfish, they've
got whooping-cough, they keep spitting water at the
Bratbys, well they *do*, don't they, I mean, you
*can't*, can you, I mean they're not even married or
anything, they're not even *divorced*, and he's in the
KGB if you ask me, he says he's a tree surgoen, but I
don't like the sound of his liver, all that squeaking
and banging every night till the small hours, well, his
mother's been much better since she had her head off,
don't you talk to me about bladders, I said...
**** End of file TRIAL PYTHON ****
**** From: JR...@PHX.CAM.AC.UK ****
**** THE UNDERTAKER SKETCH ****
**** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album ****
**** transcribed May, 1986 and uploaded to CMS January 1987 ****
**** by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ) ****
MAN: (entering a shop) Um, excuse me, is this the undertaker's?
UNDERTAKER: Yup, that's right, what can I do for you, squire?
M: Um, well, I wonder if you can help me. My mother has just died
and I'm not quite sure what I should do.
U: Ah, well, we can 'elp you. We deal with stiffs.
M: (aghast) Stiffs?
U: Yea. Now there's three things we can do with your mum. We can bury
her, burn her, or dump her.
M: Dump her?
U: Dump her in the Thames.
M: (still aghast) What?
U: Oh, did you like her?
M: Yes!
U: Oh well, we won't dump her, then. Well, what do you think: burn her,
or bury her?
M: Um, well, um, which would you recommend?
U: Well they're both nasty. If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames,
crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not
quite dead. But quick. And then you get a box of ashes, which you can
pretend are hers.
M: (timidly) Oh.
U: Or, if you don't wanna fry her, you can bury her. And then she'll get
eaten up by maggots and weevils, nibble, nibble, nibble, which isn't
so hot if, as I said, she's not quite dead.
M: I see. Um. Well, I.. I.. I.. I'm not very sure. She's definitely dead.
U: Where is she?
M: In the sack.
U: Let's 'ave a look.
(FX: rustle of bag opening)
U: Umm, she looks quite young.
M: Yes, she was.
U: (over his shoulder) FRED!
F: (offstage) Yea!
U: I THINK WE'VE GOT AN EATER!
F: (offstage) I'll get the oven on!
M: Um, er...excuse me, um, are you... are you suggesting we should
eat my mother?
(pause)
U: Yeah. Not raw, not raw. We cook her. She'd be delicious with a few
french fries, a bit of stuffing. Delicious! (smacks his lips)
M: What! (he stammers)
(pause)
M: Actually, I do feel a bit peckish - No! NO, I can't!
U: Look, we'll eat your mum. Then, if you feel a bit guilty about it
afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up into it.
M: All right.
**** More Monty Python!!! A little-known biblical lesson ****
**** Transcribed by Bret "Who else?" Shefter ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
St. Victor of Python
And it came to pass that Saint Victor was taken from this place
to another place, where he was lain to rest himself amongst sheets
of muslin and velvet.
And there stroked was he by maidens of the Orient.
For sixteen days and nights stroked they him, yea verily and
caressed him.
His hair, ruffled they. And their fingers rubbethed they in oil
of olives, and ranneth them across all parts of his body for as much
as to soothe him.
And the soles of his feet licked they. And the upper parts of
his thigh did they anoint with the balm of forbidden trees.
And with the teeth of their mouths, nibbled they the pointed
bits at the top of his ears. Yea verily, and did their tongues
thereof make themselves acquainted with his most secret places.
For fifteen days and nights did Victor withstand these maidens,
until he cried out, saying:
"This...is fantastic! Oh...this is *terrific!!*"
And the Lord did here the cry of Victor. And verily came He down
and slew the maidens. And caused their cottonwool bugs to blow away,
and their Kleenex to be laid waste utterly.
And Victor, in his anguish, cried out that the Lord was a rotten
bastard.
So the Lord sent an angel to comfort Victor for the weekend.
And entered they together the jaccuzzi.
Here endeth the lesson.
**** The Crunchy Frog Sketch ****
**** From "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl" and ****
**** "Monty Python Live at City Cente 1974" ****
**** Transcribed from memory on 3/28/86 by ****
**** Bret Shefter '89 ( SHE...@YALEVM.BITNET ) ****
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.
**** The Australian Table Wines sketch
**** From Monty Python
**** Transcribed by ( WHIT...@MCMASTER.BITNET )
A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a
pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette,
but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.
"Black Stump Bordeaux" is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured
Burgundy, whilst a good "Sydney Syrup" can rank with any of the world's
best sugary wines.
"Chateau Bleu", too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and
its lingering afterburn.
"Old Smokey, 1968" has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret,
whilst the Australian wino society thouroughly recommends a 1970 "Coq du
Rod Laver", which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: 8 bottles
of this, and you're really finished -- at the opening of the Sydney
Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an
hour.
Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is "Perth Pink". This is a
bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!. This is not a
wine for drinking -- this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.
Another good fighting wine is "Melbourne Old-and-Yellow", which is
particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.
Quite the reverse is true of "Chateau Chunder", which is an Appelachian
controle, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation -- a fine wine
which really opens up the sluices at both ends.
Real emetic fans will also go for a "Hobart Muddy", and a prize winning
"Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wogga Wogga", which has a
bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.
**** The Opening Scene of Life of Brian ****
**** Transcribed by Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS10...@YUSOL.BITNET ) 4/26/84 ****
**** Edited by Malcolm Dickinson '89 ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) 10/20/86 ****
(Three camels are silhouetted against the bright stars of the moonless sky,
moving slowly along the horizon. A star leads them towards Bethlehem. The
WISE MEN enter the gates of the sleeping town and make their way through the
deserted streets. A dog snarls at them. They approach a stable, out of which
streams a beam of light. They dismount and enter to find a typical manger
scene, with a baby in a rough crib of straw and patient animals standing
around. The mother nods by the side of the child. Suddenly she wakes from her
lightish doze, sees them, shrieks and falls backwards off her straw. She's up
again in a flash, looking guardedly at them. She is a ratbag.)
Mandy: Who are you?
Wise Man 1: We are three wise men.
Wise Man 2: We are astrologers. We have come from the East.
Mandy: Is this some kind of joke?
WM1: We wish to praise the infant.
WM2: We must pay homage to him.
Mandy: Homage!! You're all drunk you are. It's disgusting. Out, out.
WM3: No, no.
Mandy: Coming bursting in here first thing in the morning with some tale about
Oriental fortune tellers... get out.
WM1: No. No we must see him.
Mandy: Go and praise someone else's brat, go on.
WM2: We were led by a star.
Mandy: Led by a bottle, more like. Get out!
WM2: We must see him. We have brought presents.
Mandy: Out!
WM1: Gold, frankincense, myrrh.
(Mandy changes direction, smooth as silk.)
Mandy: Well, why didn't you say? He's over here ... Sorry this place is a
bit of a mess. What is myrrh, anyway?
WM3: It is a valuable balm.
Mandy: A balm, what are you giving him a balm for? It might bite him.
WM3: What?
Mandy: It's a dangerous animal. Quick, throw it in the trough.
WM3: No it isn't.
Mandy: Yes it is.
WM3: No, no, it is an ointment.
Mandy: An ointment?
WM3: Look.
Mandy: (sampling the ointment with a grubby finger). Oh. There is an animal
called a balm or did I dream it? You astrologers, eh? Well, what's he then?
WM2: H'm?
Mandy: What star sign is he?
WM2: Capricorn.
Mandy: Capricorn eh, what are they like?
WM2: He is the son of God, our Messiah.
WM1: King of the Jews.
Mandy: And that's Capricorn, is it?
WM3: No, no, that's just him.
Mandy: Oh, I was going to say, otherwise there'd be a lot of them.
(The WISE MEN are on their knees.)
WM2: By what name are you calling him?
(Dramatic Holy music... )
Mandy: ... Brian.
Three Wise Men: We worship you, Oh, Brian, who are Lord over us all. Praise
unto you, Brian and to the Lord our Father. Amen.
Mandy: Do you do a lot of this, then?
WM1: What?
Mandy: This praising.
WM1: No, no, no.
Mandy: Oh! Well, if you're dropping by again do pop in.
(They take the hint and rise.)
And thanks a lot for the gold and frankincense but ... don't worry too
much about the myrrh next time. Thank you ... Goodbye.
(To Brian)
Well weren't they nice ... out of their bloody minds, but still...
(In the background we see the WISE MEN pause outside the door as a
gentle glow suffuses them. They look at each other, confer and then
stride back in and grab the presents off MANDY and turn to go again,
pushing MANDY over.
Here, here, that's mine, you just gave me that. Ow!
**** Please send your comments, praise, complaints or ****
**** copyright infringement lawsuits to ... ****
**** Dwayne A. X. E. E. ( CS10...@YUSOL.BITNET ) ****
**** The Witch Scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ****
**** Transcribed from memory and later corrected from the tape by ****
**** Malcolm ( CLAR...@YALEVM.BITNET ) Dickinson 3/25/86 ****
**** This is transcript #5 from the movie, continued from KNIGHT PYTHON ****
Bedevere stands on a stage in front of a large crowd of wild villagers.
Villager: We have found a witch, may we burn her?
Crowd: BURN!! BUUUURN HER!
Bedevere: But how do you *know* she is a witch?
Villager: She looks like one!
Other Villagers: Yeah! She looks like one!!!
Bedevere: Bring her forward.
(a young woman is pushed through the crowd of villagers to the platform. She
is dressed all in black, has a carrot tied around her face on top of her nose,
and a black paper hat on her head. She talks funny because her nose is
closed by the carrot.)
Witch: I'm not a witch, I'm not a witch!
Bedevere: Er,...but you are dressed as one.
Witch: THEY dressed me up like this.
Villagers: No! nooo! We didn't! We didn't!
Witch: And this isn't my nose, it's a false one!
(Bedevere lifts up the carrot to reveal the woman's real nose, which is in
fact rather small.)
Bedevere: Well?
One Villager: Well, we did do the nose.
Bedevere: The nose?
Villager: And the Hat. But she's a witch!
Villagers: Yeah! Burn her! Burn! Burn her!
B: Did you dress her up like this?
Villagers: NO! No, no, no, no, no, no...
One Villager: yes.
Villagers: yes. yes. yes. A bit. yes. a bit. a bit.
Another Villager: (hopefully) She has got a wart...
B: What makes you think she is a witch?
Villager: Well, She turned me into a newt!!
(pause)
Bedevere: a newt?
(long pause)
Villager: I got better...
Villagers: BURN HER anyway! BURN! BURN! BURN HER!
B: Quiet, quiet, quiet, QUIETA There are ways of *telling* whether she
is a witch!
Villagers: Are there? What? Tell us, then! Tell us!
B: Tell me. What do you do with witches?
V: BUUUURN!!!!! BUUUUUURRRRNN!!!!! You BURN them!!!! BURN!!
B: And what do you burn apart from witches?
Villager: More Witches!
Other Villager: Wood.
B: So. Why do witches burn?
(long silence)
(shuffling of feet by the villagers)
Villager: (tentatively) Because they're made of.....wood?
B: Goooood!
Other Villagers: oh yeah... oh....
B: So. How do we tell whether she is made of wood?
One Villager: Build a bridge out of 'er!
B: Aah. But can you not also make bridges out of stone?
Villagers: oh yeah. oh. umm...
B: Does wood sink in water?
One Villager: No! No, no, it floats!
Other Villager: Throw her into the pond!
Villagers: yaaaaaa!
(when order is restored)
B: What also floats in water?
Villager: Bread!
Another Villager: Apples!
Another Villager: Uh...very small rocks!
Another Villager: Cider!
Another Villager: Uh...great gravy!
Another Villager: Cherries!
Another Villager: Mud!
Another Villager: Churches! Churches!
Another Villager: Lead! Lead!
King Arthur: A Duck!
Villagers: (in amazement) ooooooh!
B: exACTly!
B: (to a villager) So, *logically*...
Villager: (very slowly, with pauses between each word)
If...she...weighs the same as a duck......she's made of wood.
B: and therefore...
(pause)
Villager: A Witch!
All Villagers: A WITCH!
(they do consequently weigh her across from a duck on Bedevere's largest
scale, and she does indeed weigh the same as the duck.)
Witch: (to camera) It's a fair cop.
Thereafter follows the knighting of Bedevere and the reading of the list of
other knights:
Sir Bedevere the Wise
Sir Lancelot the Brave
Sir Galahad the Pure
Sir Robin, the Not So Brave As Sir Launcelot,
who had nearly fought the Dragon of Angor
who had nearly stood up to the vicious Chicken of Bristol
and who had personally wet himself at the Battle of Badon Hill.
and the aptly named
Sir Not Appearing In This Film.
**** Continued in CAMELOT PYTHON, Transcript #6 in the movie ****
**** End of file WITCH PYTHON 3/25/86 MMD ****
**** I'M SO WORRIED ****
**** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album ****
**** transcribed by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL7...@GWUVM.BITNET ) ****
I'm so worried about what's hapenin' today, in the middle east, you know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about the fashions today, I don't think they're good for your
feet.
And I'm so worried about the shows on TV that sometimes they want to repeat.
I'm so worried about what's happenin' today, you know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about my hair falling out and the state of the world today.
And I'm so worried about bein' so full of doubt about everything, anyway.
I'm so worried about modern technology.
I'm so worried about all the things that they dump in the sea.
I'm so worried about it, worried about it, worried, worried, worried.
I'm so worried about everything that can go wrong.
I'm so worried about whether people like this song.
I'm so worried about this very next verse, it isn't the best that I've got.
And I'm so worried about whether I should go on, or whether I should just stop.
(pause)
I'm worried about whether I ought to have stopped.
And I'm worried about, it's the sort of thing I ought to know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
(longer pause)
I'm so worried about whether I should have stopped then.
I'm so worried that I'm driving everyone 'round the bend.
I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
Nevena
300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
300 kb .. jos ne mogu k sebi doc .. srceko .. to se radi tak da stavis
negdje na fly, pa kome treba, ko hoce uzme si :))) a ne da meni pol sata
skida newse a ja se pitam kaj je sad :)))
--
Nevena
... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
Ivan Rako Ico
>Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>300 kb .. jos ne mogu k sebi doc .. srceko .. to se radi tak da stavis
>negdje na fly, pa kome treba, ko hoce uzme si :))) a ne da meni pol sata
>skida newse a ja se pitam kaj je sad :)))
e kad citas lijepo njuze online na flaju onda nemas problema s raznim
luzeroidima ;-)
--
Posted by Ivan Rako Ico e-mail: <ir...@fly.cc.fer.hr>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
UNIX is user friendly. It is just selective about who its friends are.
Ivan Rako Ico
>Nekima se nije svido moj stari sig...zato me evo sa 300 kb Monty Pythona.
>
>See Yaa
ti si majke mi umno poremecen...
e djete, ides li ti mozda na fer?
Vid Strpic
>On Tue, 30 Mar 1999 23:02:35 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>300 kb .. jos ne mogu k sebi doc .. srceko .. to se radi tak da stavis
>>negdje na fly, pa kome treba, ko hoce uzme si :))) a ne da meni pol sata
>>skida newse a ja se pitam kaj je sad :)))
>
>e kad citas lijepo njuze online na flaju onda nemas problema s raznim
>luzeroidima ;-)
Ili imas dobro slozen scorefile za slrnpull ;->>>>>
--
// Vid Strpic, a.k.a MartiN \\ /
// <str...@linux.hr> 099536856 014855762 \\/
\\ // When you talk to God, it's called a prayer.
\\/ When God talks to you, it's called schizophrenia..
Vid Strpic
>>
>>See Yaa
>
>
>e djete, ides li ti mozda na fer?
FER? E, pravi se nas'o... >;-)
Danijel Turina
>>e kad citas lijepo njuze online na flaju onda nemas problema s raznim
>>luzeroidima ;-)
>
>Ili imas dobro slozen scorefile za slrnpull ;->>>>>
Ne treba to, ja imam podesen agent da za sve sa vise od 200 linija
skida samo headere. :)
-----
Web(Yoga-Vedanta): http://www.iskon.hr/~dturina/
Ivan Rako Ico
>Ivan Rako Ico rece u hr.alt.flame.flame.flame :
>>On 30 Mar 1999 20:45:09 GMT, Phiber <phi...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>>
>>>See Yaa
>>
>>
>>e djete, ides li ti mozda na fer?
>
>FER? E, pravi se nas'o... >;-)
;-)
Drazen Simunic
Flavor of Quazaar wrote in message <7dsdhb$8kl$2...@bagan.srce.hr>...
>In hr.alt.flame.flame.flame Phiber <phi...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>> Nekima se nije svido moj stari sig...zato me evo sa 300 kb Monty Pythona.
>
>> See Yaa
>mamlaze
>ima jedna jos originalnija
>SHUPKOVA NEMEZO
>pa koji si ti kreteeeeeeeeeeeeeen
>pa kaj ti ovo treba
>oces da te potkresem tak da vishe glavom ne lupas u stokove
>
>mislim ono
>nepodojenec
>
>Quazaar
VAU kolko energije.
stricek vox
> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
--
for music is my medicine.
- v...@fly.cc.fer.hr -
Ivan Rako Ico
>Ivan Rako Ico rece u hr.alt.flame.flame.flame :
>>>Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>>300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>>grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>>staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>>negdje na fly, pa kome treba, ko hoce uzme si :))) a ne da meni pol sata
>>>skida newse a ja se pitam kaj je sad :)))
>>
>>luzeroidima ;-)
>
>Ili imas dobro slozen scorefile za slrnpull ;->>>>>
>
ili kazes gemicu da za sve non-binary grupe stavi limit na jedno 5k ;-)
Phiber
>>
>Pokvario si mu cijeli dan....
Pa i nije ...sad ce ionako ispiti..pa moram vjezbati...jedino moram preko
jebenog Srca irca..sranje....
Unleash Your Dark Side...
Matija
--
Take this pink ribbon of my eyes,
I'm exposed
And it's no big suprise
Don't you think I know,
Exactly where I stand
This world is forcing me,
To hold your hand...
Zoran Dzelajlija
>Flavor of Quazaar wrote in message <7dsdhb$8kl$2...@bagan.srce.hr>...
>>SHUPKOVA NEMEZO
>VAU kolko energije.
Ovaj, ja sam napravio vrlo slicnu stvar kao covjek tu, i zalockao mu account
(mozda nisam jucer trebao cevape iz menze jesti :). Mislim ce mi za
nekoliko minuta biti krivo.
Zoran
--
Careful with that axe Eugene
Phiber
Phiber
>On 31 Mar 1999 15:15:14 GMT, Senko Rasic <ptol...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>>
>>Pokvario si mu cijeli dan....
A osim toga i zasluzio sam to zar ne?????
Vidimo za za tjedan dana...ponovo u srijedu nova Epizoda .signature Barbare~
Senko Rasic
to us, saying:
> Ovaj, ja sam napravio vrlo slicnu stvar kao covjek tu, i zalockao mu account
> (mozda nisam jucer trebao cevape iz menze jesti :). Mislim ce mi za
> nekoliko minuta biti krivo.
>
--
___ _ _ _
| _ \ |_ ___| |___ _ __ ___(_) Senko Rasic at FER
| _/ _/ _ \ / _ \ ' \/ -_) | Mail: ptol...@fly.cc.fer.hr
|_| \__\___/_\___/_|_|_\___|_| Web: http://fly.cc.fer.hr/~ptolomei/
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Talk is cheap because supply always exceeds demand."
Matija Kisicek [LoRdUkE]
>On Tue, 30 Mar 1999 23:02:35 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>
> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
VI sucks :-)
JOE rulez ...
--
mko...@vz.tel.hr , lor...@quake3nation.com
UIN:2945314
The Croatian Quake Arena Scene
http://croscene.quake3nation.com
------------------------------------------------
geKKo
> Nevena
> ... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
Jel sig ima veze s jucerasnjim Sikago Houpom?
btw, drzi se toga...
DJ Stakor
> >e kad citas lijepo njuze online na flaju onda nemas problema s raznim
> >luzeroidima ;-)
>
> Ili imas dobro slozen scorefile za slrnpull ;->>>>>
Ili rekneš leafnode-u da ti ne downloada poruke dulje od 200 redaka :)
Daniel Spiljar
> ili kazes gemicu da za sve non-binary grupe stavi limit na jedno 5k ;-)
Ili kazes Gemicu da instalira Cleanfeed. >:-)
Nevena
>On Tue, 30 Mar 1999 23:02:35 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
Hmm .. jos kad mi smislis vi pod vindovzima :)))
Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
on je :))))
--
Nevena
>Nevena wrote:
>> Nevena
>> ... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
>btw, drzi se toga...
He he .. vidim vecina pazljivo prati sto gleda .. ili nam mozgovi slicno
rade, pa slicne stvari pamtimo :)))
Sinisa Tomic
> Hmm .. jos kad mi smislis vi pod vindovzima :)))
> Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
> on je :))))
Imas Doz verziju^winacicu. Ima i Vim koliko me sjecanje sluzi
(slabo). Pa, to bi trebalo i pod NT-jima raditi (ali necu jamcevati jer nije
Console Aplication za Win32 8-) ).
--
MIOC salutat mortales !
U pocetku bijase bit i bit bijase 0. Bog komplementira bit i bi Svemir.
Daniel Spiljar
> Ili rekneน leafnode-u da ti ne downloada poruke dulje od 200 redaka :)
Leafnode sux.
Vid Strpic
>>>luzeroidima ;-)
>>
>>Ili imas dobro slozen scorefile za slrnpull ;->>>>>
>
Kremsnite mi, Gemic nije moj news admin! ;)
Vid Strpic
>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>
>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>
>JOE rulez ...
Vi rulez, Joe sucks, i MAKNITE TO IZ RELIGIJE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DJ Stakor
> > onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>
> VI sucks :-)
> JOE rulez ...
Platim ti pivu zbog gornje izjave!
Grof
Zoran Dzelajlija wrote in message <7dte4r$p10$1...@bagan.srce.hr>...
>In hr.fido.religija Drazen Simunic <info...@zg.tel.hr> wrote:
>
>>Flavor of Quazaar wrote in message <7dsdhb$8kl$2...@bagan.srce.hr>...
>>>SHUPKOVA NEMEZO
>
>>VAU kolko energije.
>
account
>(mozda nisam jucer trebao cevape iz menze jesti :). Mislim ce mi za
>nekoliko minuta biti krivo.
>
>--
>Careful with that axe Eugene
>PINK FLOYD
Domagoj Klepac
Mario Splivalo <ma...@fly.cc.fer.hr> claimed something like this:
> > Nekima se nije svido moj stari sig...zato me evo sa 300 kb Monty Pythona.
>
> zalockati acc, jer ja njuze skidam doma, i od tamo ih citam, i tvojih 300
> kila me nije odusevilo. Izvijestit cem helpdesk ;)
Ja nemam apsolutno nista protiv tih njegovih 300 kila, jer to jos nemam
pa mi je bilo zabavno za citati. Ali da je poslao neku blesavu sliku ili
jos par puta svoj post u HTML-u kastrirao bih ga.
BTW kaj svi grakcete, problem vam je skinuti 300 kila, a porno slikice
i animacije vam nije problem skidati s neta. Osim toga do sad ste
uspjeli na temu te jedne poruke napraviti promet od nekoliko puta po tih
tristo kila...
Domchi
Flavor of Quazaar
> On 31 Mar 1999 08:42:18 GMT, V...@fly.cc.fer.hr (stricek vox) wrote:
>>On Tue, 30 Mar 1999 23:02:35 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>
>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
> VI sucks :-)
> JOE rulez ...
ma koji joe
daj naj brichati basne
PICO rula
Quazaar
Flavor of Quazaar
> Flavor of Quazaar wrote in message <7dsdhb$8kl$2...@bagan.srce.hr>...
>>In hr.alt.flame.flame.flame Phiber <phi...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>> Nekima se nije svido moj stari sig...zato me evo sa 300 kb Monty Pythona.
>>
>>> See Yaa
>>kretene
>>mamlaze
>>ima jedna jos originalnija
>>SHUPKOVA NEMEZO
>>pa koji si ti kreteeeeeeeeeeeeeen
>>pa kaj ti ovo treba
>>oces da te potkresem tak da vishe glavom ne lupas u stokove
>>
>>mislim ono
>>nepodojenec
>>
>>Quazaar
> VAU kolko energije.
zbilja mislis tak
e fala
fakat ti fala
Quazaar
Dinko Korunic
> On Wed, 31 Mar 1999 20:31:23 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>> Hmm .. jos kad mi smislis vi pod vindovzima :)))
>> Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>> on je :))))
> Imas Doz verziju^winacicu. Ima i Vim koliko me sjecanje sluzi
> (slabo). Pa, to bi trebalo i pod NT-jima raditi (ali necu jamcevati jer nije
> Console Aplication za Win32 8-) ).
Koliko sam ja informiran, postoji dos16, dos32, win32 i gui32 verzija Vim-a.
Mislim da nije potrebno da objasnjavam razlike izmedju doticnih koje su ocite.
--
kreator
Vid Strpic
>stricek vox wrote in message ...
>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>
>
>Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>on je :))))
>
>Nevena
>... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
>
>
>
--
// Vid Strpic, a.k.a Martin . \\ /
// <str...@linux.hr> 099536856 014855762 \\/
\\ //
\\/ To err is human...to really foul up requires the root password.
Vid Strpic
>> Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>> on je :))))
>
>(slabo). Pa, to bi trebalo i pod NT-jima raditi (ali necu jamcevati jer nije
>Console Aplication za Win32 8-) ).
>
> MIOC salutat mortales !
>U pocetku bijase bit i bit bijase 0. Bog komplementira bit i bi Svemir.
Phiber
>i animacije vam nije problem skidati s neta. Osim toga do sad ste
>uspjeli na temu te jedne poruke napraviti promet od nekoliko puta po tih
>tristo kila...
>
> Domchi
Vid Strpic
>In hr.alt.flame.flame.flame Matija Kisicek [LoRdUkE] <mko...@vz.tel.hr> wrote:
>> On 31 Mar 1999 08:42:18 GMT, V...@fly.cc.fer.hr (stricek vox) wrote:
>
>>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>>
>>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>
>> JOE rulez ...
>ma koji joe
>daj naj brichati basne
>PICO rula
>
>Quazaar
Vid Strpic
>In hr.fido.religija Drazen Simunic <info...@zg.tel.hr> wrote:
>
>>Flavor of Quazaar wrote in message <7dsdhb$8kl$2...@bagan.srce.hr>...
>
>>VAU kolko energije.
>
>Ovaj, ja sam napravio vrlo slicnu stvar kao covjek tu, i zalockao mu account
>(mozda nisam jucer trebao cevape iz menze jesti :). Mislim ce mi za
>nekoliko minuta biti krivo.
>
>Zoran
>--
>Careful with that axe Eugene
Vid Strpic
>Nevena wrote:
>
>> Nevena
>> ... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
>
>btw, drzi se toga...
>
Vid Strpic
>On 31 Mar 1999 08:42:18 GMT, V...@fly.cc.fer.hr (stricek vox) wrote:
>
>>On Tue, 30 Mar 1999 23:02:35 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>
>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>
>VI sucks :-)
>JOE rulez ...
>mko...@vz.tel.hr , lor...@quake3nation.com
>UIN:2945314
>The Croatian Quake Arena Scene
>http://croscene.quake3nation.com
>------------------------------------------------
Vid Strpic
>>> Nevena
>>> ... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
>>Jel sig ima veze s jucerasnjim Sikago Houpom?
>>btw, drzi se toga...
>
>
>rade, pa slicne stvari pamtimo :)))
>
>--
>... nade vise nema samo kad od nje dignes ruke ...
>
>
>
geKKo
> ma koji joe
> daj naj brichati basne
> PICO rula
I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
PICO...!
Damir Dzeko
Ima samo jedan dobar, pravi, najveci, najbolji... XEmacs!!! :-P :-P :-P
A oni koji to neznaju su luzeri! ;-)
--damir;
Vid Strpic
>
>> ma koji joe
>> daj naj brichati basne
>> PICO rula
>
>I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
>PICO...!
Vim, ali prekinite sa crosspostom u Religiju.
Mario Splivalo
> In article <7dtvra$3h5$4...@bagan.srce.hr>,
> Mario Splivalo <ma...@fly.cc.fer.hr> claimed something like this:
>>
>> zalockati acc, jer ja njuze skidam doma, i od tamo ih citam, i tvojih 300
>> kila me nije odusevilo. Izvijestit cem helpdesk ;)
> Ja nemam apsolutno nista protiv tih njegovih 300 kila, jer to jos nemam
> pa mi je bilo zabavno za citati. Ali da je poslao neku blesavu sliku ili
> jos par puta svoj post u HTML-u kastrirao bih ga.
Super, ti onda uzivaj u njegovih 300k ;)
> BTW kaj svi grakcete, problem vam je skinuti 300 kila, a porno slikice
> i animacije vam nije problem skidati s neta. Osim toga do sad ste
> uspjeli na temu te jedne poruke napraviti promet od nekoliko puta po tih
> tristo kila...
Pa, nebih bas rekao. Prvo, ja ne skidam porno slikice i animacije doma
modemom, drugo, grijesio je, i red je da kaznjen bude ;)
Mike
--
"I can do it quick. I can do it cheap. I can do it well. Pick any two."
Mario Splivalo
> Matija Kisicek [LoRdUkE] rece u hr.alt.flame.flame.flame :
>>>On Tue, 30 Mar 1999 23:02:35 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>>
>>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>>
>>VI sucks :-)
>>JOE rulez ...
> Vi rulez, Joe sucks, i MAKNITE TO IZ RELIGIJE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jel vidis sad o cem ti pricam? Kak vi moze rulat? Da isplivas iz Linuxa i
pogledas okolo, vidio bi kakvo je to smece. Ok, guba je na linuxu/unixu,
pogotovo kad si preko nekog sugavog anti-VT terminala. Joe je jako ovisan o
terminalu, i cesto brljavi i mrljavi. A vi to fino zvace. No, molim lijepo,
ko'lko je emacs napredniji? Ak ne slomis prste s tim tipkama inim.
A necu ti reci koliko je EDIT.COM jednostavniji za koristenje, a jednako
produktivan :)
Mario Splivalo
> Kibo informs me that Sinisa Tomic stated in hr.fido.religija:
>>On Wed, 31 Mar 1999 20:31:23 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>> Hmm .. jos kad mi smislis vi pod vindovzima :)))
>>> Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>>> on je :))))
>>
>> Imas Doz verziju^winacicu. Ima i Vim koliko me sjecanje sluzi
>>(slabo). Pa, to bi trebalo i pod NT-jima raditi (ali necu jamcevati jer nije
>>Console Aplication za Win32 8-) ).
>>
>>--
>> MIOC salutat mortales !
>>U pocetku bijase bit i bit bijase 0. Bog komplementira bit i bi Svemir.
A sto tebi bi? :)
Nevena
>Kibo informs me that Nevena stated in hr.fido.religija:
>>>> Pa dobro fiver jesi ti normalan??????
>>>> 300Kb u ne binaries grupu .. ok ovo nije slika ali ... i to ne u jednu
>>>> grupu!!!!!!!!! E pa zblokao mi comp kad sam pokusala reply a zaboravila
>>>> staviti 'do not include original post'!!!!
>>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>>Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>>on je :))))
> // Vid Strpic, a.k.a Martin . \\ /
> // <str...@linux.hr> 099536856 014855762 \\/
> \\ //
> \\/ To err is human...to really foul up requires the root password.
Ahm .. jel meni nesto fali ili si ti Vid samo bez rijeci ostao? :)))
DJ Stakor
> > Ili rekneš leafnode-u da ti ne downloada poruke dulje od 200 redaka :)
>
> Leafnode sux.
Leafnode rulz!
DJ Stakor
> >VI sucks :-)
> >JOE rulez ...
>
> Vi rulez, Joe sucks, i MAKNITE TO IZ RELIGIJE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Vi sucks, Joe rulez!!!!
DJ Stakor
> > I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
> > PICO...!
>
> Ima samo jedan dobar, pravi, najveci, najbolji... XEmacs!!! :-P :-P :-P
> A oni koji to neznaju su luzeri! ;-)
ajde ga stavi u sig, kao onaj genunix :)
da ga i mi možemo probati :)))))
DJ Stakor
> >> ma koji joe
> >> daj naj brichati basne
> >> PICO rula
> >
> >I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
> >PICO...!
>
> Vim, ali prekinite sa crosspostom u Religiju.
joe, joe i samo joe!!!!!!
pico sux!
vim sux!
(x)emacs sux!
DJ Stakor
> >BTW kaj svi grakcete, problem vam je skinuti 300 kila, a porno slikice
> >i animacije vam nije problem skidati s neta. Osim toga do sad ste
> >uspjeli na temu te jedne poruke napraviti promet od nekoliko puta po tih
> >tristo kila...
> >
> > Domchi
> Istina..ali dobro mozda sam 'malo' pretjero! :)))
nemoj više.
Kresimir Farkas
MS> zalockati acc, jer ja njuze skidam doma, i od tamo ih citam, i tvojih 300
MS> kila me nije odusevilo. Izvijestit cem helpdesk ;)
Zasto ja nisam dobio doticnu poruku, a volim MP? Jel moze ponovo? :>
Faki
----
Daniel Spiljar
> > I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
> > PICO...!
>
> Ima samo jedan dobar, pravi, najveci, najbolji... XEmacs!!! :-P :-P :-P
> A oni koji to neznaju su luzeri! ;-)
Tak je, tak je! :-) Konacno netko normalan! ;-)
Nino aka Pangborn
>Flavor of Quazaar wrote:
>
>> ma koji joe
>> daj naj brichati basne
>> PICO rula
>
>PICO...!
>
zapravo, damo te svima koji hoce, ali se nebi rimovalo :)
--
Nino aka Pangborn
ncucic[at]jagor.srce.hr
..power to the people!
Vid Strpic
>Ja nemam apsolutno nista protiv tih njegovih 300 kila, jer to jos nemam
>pa mi je bilo zabavno za citati. Ali da je poslao neku blesavu sliku ili
>jos par puta svoj post u HTML-u kastrirao bih ga.
Khm, hajde, potrazit cu i ja ;)
>BTW kaj svi grakcete, problem vam je skinuti 300 kila, a porno slikice
>i animacije vam nije problem skidati s neta. Osim toga do sad ste
>uspjeli na temu te jedne poruke napraviti promet od nekoliko puta po tih
>tristo kila...
Pretjerujes. A promet na to nije bio nekoliko puta veci ;)))
--
// Vid Strpic, a.k.a MartiN \\ /
// <str...@linux.hr> 099536856 014855762 \\/
\\ // When you talk to God, it's called a prayer.
\\/ When God talks to you, it's called schizophrenia..
Vid Strpic
>>>> onda editiraj s VIem, tako ces brze izrezati to sve :)
>>>JOE rulez ...
>> Vi rulez, Joe sucks, i MAKNITE TO IZ RELIGIJE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>
>pogledas okolo, vidio bi kakvo je to smece. Ok, guba je na linuxu/unixu,
>pogotovo kad si preko nekog sugavog anti-VT terminala. Joe je jako ovisan o
>terminalu, i cesto brljavi i mrljavi. A vi to fino zvace. No, molim lijepo,
>ko'lko je emacs napredniji? Ak ne slomis prste s tim tipkama inim.
>A necu ti reci koliko je EDIT.COM jednostavniji za koristenje, a jednako
>produktivan :)
Ne kenjkaj, vi-aj je jednostavniji za koristenje, 'i', Escape, 'x', i
'ZZ', i to je osnovno :)
A emacs... eeeee! Heretice!!! ;)
Daniel Spiljar
> > > Ili rekneš leafnode-u da ti ne downloada poruke dulje od 200 redaka :)
> >
> > Leafnode sux.
>
> Leafnode rulz!
Ne znam, meni nikad nije radio kako treba, i zbog toga sam prešao na
innd+suck kombinaciju.
Vid Strpic
>On 31 Mar 1999 18:49:34 GMT, Sinisa Tomic <Sinisa...@161.53.2.130> wrote:
>>On Wed, 31 Mar 1999 20:31:23 +0200, Nevena <nev...@fly.cc.fer.hr> wrote:
>>> Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>>> on je :))))
>>(slabo). Pa, to bi trebalo i pod NT-jima raditi (ali necu jamcevati jer nije
>>Console Aplication za Win32 8-) ).
A ima i console verzija za Win32, take my word :)
>a ima negdje na gnjiluxu, meni se cini i neki vi.exe, al nisam probao sto je
>to ;-)
Imam ja vi.exe iz 1985. mislim. Oko 40k ;-)))))
Vid Strpic
>>>U pocetku bijase bit i bit bijase 0. Bog komplementira bit i bi Svemir.
>
>A sto tebi bi? :)
Popizdio sam. Vidi moj rant u hr.news.admin.
Vid Strpic
>DJ Stakor <sta...@usa.net> writes:
>
>> Ili rekneš leafnode-u da ti ne downloada poruke dulje od 200 redaka :)
>
>Leafnode sux.
slrnpull rulez.
Ratko Jakopec
Vidim da su se i mentalno retardirane osobe pocele koristiti
internetam. Samo tako nastavite.
Huga kurk
kuha, haha,
kva kva kava, muuuuuuu
Vid Strpic
>>>Hmm .. jos kad mi smislis vi pod vindovzima :)))
>>>Pa dobro zasto toliko replaya na moj post .. nisam ja nis krivo napravila,
>>>on je :))))
>> // Vid Strpic, a.k.a Martin . \\ /
>
>Ahm .. jel meni nesto fali ili si ti Vid samo bez rijeci ostao? :)))
Toliko sam popizdio zbog crossposta u Religiju da... uostalom, vidi se.
DJ Stakor
> > > Leafnode sux.
> >
> > Leafnode rulz!
>
> Ne znam, meni nikad nije radio kako treba, i zbog toga sam prešao na
> innd+suck kombinaciju.
Meni je proradio otprve :)
Verzija 1.8.1 :)
DJ Stakor
> Daniel Spiljar rece u hr.alt.flame.flame.flame :
> >DJ Stakor <sta...@usa.net> writes:
> >
> >> Ili rekneš leafnode-u da ti ne downloada poruke dulje od 200 redaka :)
> >
> >Leafnode sux.
>
> slrnpull rulez.
slrnpull sux!
leafnode rulez!
stricek vox
> In hr.alt.flame.flame.flame Vid Strpic <str...@lorien.elf.hr> wrote:
>
> Jel vidis sad o cem ti pricam? Kak vi moze rulat? Da isplivas iz Linuxa i
> pogledas okolo, vidio bi kakvo je to smece. Ok, guba je na linuxu/unixu,
> pogotovo kad si preko nekog sugavog anti-VT terminala. Joe je jako ovisan o
> terminalu, i cesto brljavi i mrljavi. A vi to fino zvace. No, molim lijepo,
> ko'lko je emacs napredniji? Ak ne slomis prste s tim tipkama inim.
> A necu ti reci koliko je EDIT.COM jednostavniji za koristenje, a jednako
> produktivan :)
pa bas da je jednako produktivan i nije.... :)
tipican pico user koji tu i tamo digne joe :)
--
for music is my medicine.
- v...@fly.cc.fer.hr -
Flavor of Quazaar
to vidis u ekranu svojem :)))))))))
Quazaar
Flavor of Quazaar
> geKKo <ge...@itookmyprozac.com> writes:
>> Flavor of Quazaar wrote:
>>
>> > ma koji joe
>> > daj naj brichati basne
>> > PICO rula
>>
>> I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
>> PICO...!
> Ima samo jedan dobar, pravi, najveci, najbolji... XEmacs!!! :-P :-P :-P
> A oni koji to neznaju su luzeri! ;-)
daj naj prichati basne
:))))))))))
Quazaar
Franjo Hornung
In article <37046a3...@news.tel.hr>, ratko....@vz.tel.hr says...
> >Nino aka Pangborn
> >ncucic[at]jagor.srce.hr
> >..power to the people!
>
> Vidim da su se i mentalno retardirane osobe pocele koristiti
> internetam. Samo tako nastavite.
>
> Huga kurk
> kuha, haha,
> kva kva kava, muuuuuuu
:))))))))) ROTFL!!! :)))))))))))
Ajoja... :))))
Nino aka Pangborn
>internetam. Samo tako nastavite.
Eee, da... koristimo se mi vec dugo internetAm. Jel da nam je dobro?
--
Dinko Korunic
> joe, joe i samo joe!!!!!!
> pico sux!
> vim sux!
> (x)emacs sux!
Hmh. A da mozda navedes kakav razlog? Ili pak da idemo raspravljati o tome
kada je autor prestao joe razvijati? Ili ti treba demonstrirati u kojim se sve
slucajevima joe rusi? Ja koristim vim, naprimjer. A to ne znaci da nisam
svjestan da je emacs `editor of gods'. I to nije fraza nego zaista potvrdiva
cinjenica.
--
kreator
Vid Strpic
>>> Vim, ali prekinite sa crosspostom u Religiju.
>> joe, joe i samo joe!!!!!!
>> pico sux!
>> vim sux!
>> (x)emacs sux!
>Hmh. A da mozda navedes kakav razlog? Ili pak da idemo raspravljati o tome
>kada je autor prestao joe razvijati? Ili ti treba demonstrirati u kojim se sve
>slucajevima joe rusi? Ja koristim vim, naprimjer. A to ne znaci da nisam
>svjestan da je emacs `editor of gods'. I to nije fraza nego zaista potvrdiva
>cinjenica.
Dinko, kao prvo ovo je flame, dakle ne moramo dokazivati svoje tvrdnje ;)
Kao drugo... emacs nije editor. Prevelik je za to. Emacs je OS za sebe ;)
A ja OS imam, meni treba editor. I zato koristim vim :)
DJ Stakor
> DJ Stakor <sta...@usa.net> wrote:
> >> >I ja sam jedan od Pikavaca... :)
> >> >PICO...!
> >>
> >> Vim, ali prekinite sa crosspostom u Religiju.
>
> > joe, joe i samo joe!!!!!!
> > pico sux!
> > vim sux!
> > (x)emacs sux!
>
> Hmh. A da mozda navedes kakav razlog? Ili pak da idemo raspravljati o tome
zasto joe rula?
jednostavan je za koristenje, ima jednostavne tipkovnicke kratice, dosta je
mocan...
> kada je autor prestao joe razvijati? Ili ti treba demonstrirati u kojim se sve
> slucajevima joe rusi? Ja koristim vim, naprimjer. A to ne znaci da nisam
neke fore sa beskonacnom petljom...pricao si mi to
DJ Stakor
> Dinko Korunic rece u hr.alt.flame.flame.flame :
> >>> Vim, ali prekinite sa crosspostom u Religiju.
> >> joe, joe i samo joe!!!!!!
> >> pico sux!
> >> vim sux!
> >> (x)emacs sux!
> >Hmh. A da mozda navedes kakav razlog? Ili pak da idemo raspravljati o tome
> >kada je autor prestao joe razvijati? Ili ti treba demonstrirati u kojim se sve
> >slucajevima joe rusi? Ja koristim vim, naprimjer. A to ne znaci da nisam
> >svjestan da je emacs `editor of gods'. I to nije fraza nego zaista potvrdiva
> >cinjenica.
>
> Dinko, kao prvo ovo je flame, dakle ne moramo dokazivati svoje tvrdnje ;)
> Kao drugo... emacs nije editor. Prevelik je za to. Emacs je OS za sebe ;)
Dobro si rekao: emacs nije editor. Emacs je smeće! :)
Dinko Korunic
> Dinko, kao prvo ovo je flame, dakle ne moramo dokazivati svoje tvrdnje ;)
Buduci da je flame ja smijem takodjer iznositi svoja misljenja/tvrdnje :)
> Kao drugo... emacs nije editor. Prevelik je za to. Emacs je OS za sebe ;)
> A ja OS imam, meni treba editor. I zato koristim vim :)
OS? Mislim da nema josh uvijek sve potrebne `dijelove', stogod smatrali pod
time. Ali je vrlo vrlo mocan. Samo cu reci:
-----BEGIN GEEK CODE BLOCK-----
Version 3.1
E---?>+++
------END GEEK CODE BLOCK------
--
kreator
Dinko Korunic
>> Dinko, kao prvo ovo je flame, dakle ne moramo dokazivati svoje tvrdnje ;)
> Dobro si rekao: emacs nije editor. Emacs je smeće! :)
Razmisljam sto bih ti odgovorio na ovo. Ali je zalosno. Tvoja vizija je
malena. Neces postici prosvjetljenje i Tao.
--
kreator
Vid Strpic
Zalosno, da, to je sve sto i ja mogu reci. No, mlad je, ima nade :-)
Vid Strpic
>> Dinko, kao prvo ovo je flame, dakle ne moramo dokazivati svoje tvrdnje ;)
Naravno (tm) !!! :)
>> Kao drugo... emacs nije editor. Prevelik je za to. Emacs je OS za sebe ;)
>> A ja OS imam, meni treba editor. I zato koristim vim :)
>OS? Mislim da nema josh uvijek sve potrebne `dijelove', stogod smatrali pod
>time. Ali je vrlo vrlo mocan. Samo cu reci:
Mocan, da.
>-----BEGIN GEEK CODE BLOCK-----
>Version 3.1
>E---?>+++
>------END GEEK CODE BLOCK------
-----BEGIN GEEK CODE BLOCK-----
Version: 3.1
GED/J d- s-:- a- C++ UL++++ P+ L+++ E--- W+ N++ o K++ w--- M- V-- PGP+
tv--- b+++ e+ h-- r++ y+
------END GEEK CODE BLOCK------
Dinko Korunic
> -----BEGIN GEEK CODE BLOCK-----
<snip>
> ------END GEEK CODE BLOCK------
-----BEGIN GEEK CODE BLOCK-----
Version 3.1
GCC/CS/IT/L/MU !M- !PGP- 5-- C++++$ D+++>++++ DI+++>++++ E---?>+++ G++(-)
K>--- L+++>++++ N++(+++) P++(--)$>+++++ PE++() PS+(+++)> R* ULS++++ V-- W>+++
X(+) Y+>++ a-->?$ b++++ d-> e*>++++@ e+++>--@ h!>++@ r+>+++@ s:(:+) t---(--)
tv--(+) w--- y+?
------END GEEK CODE BLOCK------
--
kreator
Dinko Korunic
>>Razmisljam sto bih ti odgovorio na ovo. Ali je zalosno. Tvoja vizija je
>>malena. Neces postici prosvjetljenje i Tao.
> Zalosno, da, to je sve sto i ja mogu reci. No, mlad je, ima nade :-)
Nakog izgovorenih rijeci tih, tesko. Jedino upornim trazenjem. I sto duze
trazi to ce mu duze trebati da pronadje Tao. `Reference the NULL within NULL,
it is the gateway to all wizardry.'
--
kreator
Vid Strpic
Hm, hm...
But someday I'd like to say: "I am immortal. Getting paid for it!"
Sta ti je to? I...
I refuse to categorize myself on PGP. But if I did participate in
this category, I would characterize myself as follows: "I don't
have anything to hide."
Kaj fali PGP-u? Ponekad dobro dodje, iako ga ja rijetko koristim.
Da, imam ungeek. Trebas?
Ivana Pavic
>tv--- b+++ e+ h-- r++ y+
^^
lazi i objede..
--
<URL:http://www.ivana.net>
Dinko Korunic
Pa sto fali? :)
> I refuse to categorize myself on PGP. But if I did participate in
> this category, I would characterize myself as follows: "I don't
> have anything to hide."
> Kaj fali PGP-u? Ponekad dobro dodje, iako ga ja rijetko koristim.
Pa nisam rekao da mu fali. Za sada preko mejla nemam nista za skrivanje.
Naravno, ssh i telnet sa ssl-om trosim.
> Da, imam ungeek. Trebas?
Pa, imam ga samo doma. Ako zelis i imas vremena molio bih te da mi
posaljes ;)
--
kreator
Orange Juice Jones
> Pa nisam rekao da mu fali. Za sada preko mejla nemam nista za skrivanje.
> Naravno, ssh i telnet sa ssl-om trosim.
>
> > Da, imam ungeek. Trebas?
>
> Pa, imam ga samo doma. Ako zelis i imas vremena molio bih te da mi
> posaljes ;)
a kaj nije poanta geek koda da ga kao pravi geek naucis citati/pisati bez
nekih pomagala?
--
what they did was to create a whole form of urban style music from just two
turntables, two records and a microphone.
ZhiLLa
>>
>Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
ali ovo je monti pejton!!!!!
Dinko Korunic
>> Pa, imam ga samo doma. Ako zelis i imas vremena molio bih te da mi
>> posaljes ;)
> a kaj nije poanta geek koda da ga kao pravi geek naucis citati/pisati bez
> nekih pomagala?
Mislim da nije. Onda ne bi ni ungeek postojao. A geek sam pisao koristeci
ungeek.
--
kreator
Domagoj Klepac
On 6 Apr 1999, Doddo wrote:
> Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
Zasto se svaki put kad neka budala posalje glupost u gomilu grupa nadje
jos barem dvadeset idiota koji na to replyjaju da mu kazu da je postao
glupost, pa onda jos barem cetrdeset debila koji upozoravaju idiote da su
idioti i tako dalje?
Domchi
Orange Juice Jones
> > a kaj nije poanta geek koda da ga kao pravi geek naucis citati/pisati bez
> > nekih pomagala?
>
> Mislim da nije. Onda ne bi ni ungeek postojao. A geek sam pisao koristeci
> ungeek.
ma ungeek je za ljude koji nisu dovoljno geeky za takve stvari, a htjeli bi
saznat sto neki geek kaze o sebi u svojem GCB-u...
Vid Strpic
>On 3 Apr 1999 19:19:09 GMT, Vid Strpic <str...@lorien.elf.hr> wrote:
>
>>tv--- b+++ e+ h-- r++ y+
> ^^
>
> lazi i objede..
Praznina su lazi i objede? Daj malo objasni.... ne kuzim te. ;(
Vid Strpic
>On 6 Apr 1999, Doddo wrote:
>> Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
>Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
>hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
E, pa pretjerujes. Ovakvim bedastocama je i mjesto u h.a.f.f.f, gdje bi
drugdje?
>Zasto se svaki put kad neka budala posalje glupost u gomilu grupa nadje
>jos barem dvadeset idiota koji na to replyjaju da mu kazu da je postao
>glupost, pa onda jos barem cetrdeset debila koji upozoravaju idiote da su
>idioti i tako dalje?
Murphy. Ili Kibo. Enivejz, ja sam iz headera svih mojih poruka maknuo
Religiju. I postavio Followup-To: na Flame. Ali nije bas da je svima
doprlo do mozga :(
Domagoj Klepac
str...@lorien.elf.hr (Vid Strpic) claimed something like this:
> >> Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
> >Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
> >hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
>
> E, pa pretjerujes. Ovakvim bedastocama je i mjesto u h.a.f.f.f, gdje bi
> drugdje?
dev/null ili kako to vec vi Linuxasi velite... na primjer.
> >Zasto se svaki put kad neka budala posalje glupost u gomilu grupa nadje
> >jos barem dvadeset idiota koji na to replyjaju da mu kazu da je postao
> >glupost, pa onda jos barem cetrdeset debila koji upozoravaju idiote da su
> >idioti i tako dalje?
>
> Murphy. Ili Kibo. Enivejz, ja sam iz headera svih mojih poruka maknuo
> Religiju. I postavio Followup-To: na Flame. Ali nije bas da je svima
> doprlo do mozga :(
A kaj je to romatnicno ili smijesno u tvojim porukama?
Domchi
Vid Strpic
>> >Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
>> >hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
>> E, pa pretjerujes. Ovakvim bedastocama je i mjesto u h.a.f.f.f, gdje bi
>> drugdje?
>dev/null ili kako to vec vi Linuxasi velite... na primjer.
alt.dev.null postoji. Imas i NUL: u dosu, kad smo kod toga.
>> >Zasto se svaki put kad neka budala posalje glupost u gomilu grupa nadje
>> >jos barem dvadeset idiota koji na to replyjaju da mu kazu da je postao
>> >glupost, pa onda jos barem cetrdeset debila koji upozoravaju idiote da su
>> >idioti i tako dalje?
>> Murphy. Ili Kibo. Enivejz, ja sam iz headera svih mojih poruka maknuo
>> Religiju. I postavio Followup-To: na Flame. Ali nije bas da je svima
>> doprlo do mozga :(
>A kaj je to romatnicno ili smijesno u tvojim porukama?
Romanticno? Smijesno? Zasto je to potrebno za flejm?????
Daniel Spiljar
> >dev/null ili kako to vec vi Linuxasi velite... na primjer.
>
> alt.dev.null postoji. Imas i NUL: u dosu, kad smo kod toga.
Ja sam jednom pokusao postati poruku sa Followup-To: /dev/null.
To je samo meni slično. :)))))
--
Daniel "Larsson" Spiljar
dspi...@public.srce.hr
Ivana Pavic
>
>Praznina su lazi i objede? Daj malo objasni.... ne kuzim te. ;(
Ehh.. sori.. poletilo malo..
Onaj r++.. mislim stvarno.. 1/2 godine je 'long time'???
--
<URL:http://www.ivana.net>
Vid Strpic
>> >> >> Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
>> >> >Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
>> >> >hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
>> >> E, pa pretjerujes. Ovakvim bedastocama je i mjesto u h.a.f.f.f, gdje bi
>> >> drugdje?
>> alt.dev.null postoji. Imas i NUL: u dosu, kad smo kod toga.
Da, svejedno, koncept je isti, a to je bitno.
>> >> >Zasto se svaki put kad neka budala posalje glupost u gomilu grupa nadje
>> >> >jos barem dvadeset idiota koji na to replyjaju da mu kazu da je postao
>> >> >glupost, pa onda jos barem cetrdeset debila koji upozoravaju idiote da su
>> >> >idioti i tako dalje?
>> >> Murphy. Ili Kibo. Enivejz, ja sam iz headera svih mojih poruka maknuo
>> >> Religiju. I postavio Followup-To: na Flame. Ali nije bas da je svima
>> >> doprlo do mozga :(
>> >A kaj je to romatnicno ili smijesno u tvojim porukama?
>> Romanticno? Smijesno? Zasto je to potrebno za flejm?????
>Ne za flejm, ali sto tvoja poruka radi u hr.alt.romance i hr.rec.humor
>ako nije ni romanticna ni smijesna? ;)))
Iz izvornog Newsgroups: headera maknuo sam hr.fido.religija, a
Followup-To: stavio sam u flame. Takva je tradicija. Zasto je moja
poruka isla i u dvije gorenavedene grupe pitaj autora originalne poruke
;)
Phiber
>Iz izvornog Newsgroups: headera maknuo sam hr.fido.religija, a
>Followup-To: stavio sam u flame. Takva je tradicija. Zasto je moja
>poruka isla i u dvije gorenavedene grupe pitaj autora originalne poruke
>;)
>
M.
--
Beo...@atlas.mef.hr
Phi...@fly.cc.fer.hr
UIN : 7646142
Unleash your dark side!
Vid Strpic
>>Iz izvornog Newsgroups: headera maknuo sam hr.fido.religija, a
>>Followup-To: stavio sam u flame. Takva je tradicija. Zasto je moja
>>poruka isla i u dvije gorenavedene grupe pitaj autora originalne poruke
>>;)
>>
>Mozda zato sto sam stavio da ide u vise grupa :))))))))
Slijedecu rundu placas ti, sinko..... ;->>>>>>>>>>>
Mario Splivalo
> Domagoj Klepac rece u hr.alt.flame.flame.flame :
>>> >> Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
>>> >Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
>>> >hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
>>> E, pa pretjerujes. Ovakvim bedastocama je i mjesto u h.a.f.f.f, gdje bi
>>> drugdje?
>>dev/null ili kako to vec vi Linuxasi velite... na primjer.
> alt.dev.null postoji. Imas i NUL: u dosu, kad smo kod toga.
NUL, ali bez :.
Mike
--
"I can do it quick. I can do it cheap. I can do it well. Pick any two."
Vid Strpic
>>>> >> Malo????!!! Treba organizirati bicevanje na flaju!!!
>>>> >Dajte, kvocke, maknite ovaj thread iz hr.fido.religija, hr.alt.romance i
>>>> >hr.rec.humor. A po mogucnosti ga maknite i iz hr.alt.flame.flame.flame.
>>>> E, pa pretjerujes. Ovakvim bedastocama je i mjesto u h.a.f.f.f, gdje bi
>>>> drugdje?
>>>dev/null ili kako to vec vi Linuxasi velite... na primjer.
>> alt.dev.null postoji. Imas i NUL: u dosu, kad smo kod toga.
>
>NUL, ali bez :.
A i ti zanovijetas za sitnice... ;)
Phiber
>Slijedecu rundu placas ti, sinko..... ;->>>>>>>>>>>
>
>--