From: Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album
  Transcribed By: R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL791C@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-
(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
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.

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