Monty Python's Matching Tie and Handkerchief
Dead Bishop on the Landing 1
Ralph Melish 2
Rightthinking People 3
Elephantoplasty (Who cares) 4
Word Association Football 4
Cheese Shop 5
Great Actors 7
Background to History 8
Oscar Wilde's Party 8
Dead Bishop on the Landing
Mother: (turning off radio) liberal rubbish! Klaus!
Mother: Whaddaya want with yer jugged fish?
Mother: The jugged fish IS 'alibut!
Klaus: Well, what fish 'ave you got that isn't jugged?
Klaus: What, rabbit fish?
Mother: Uuh, yes...it's got fins...
Klaus: Is it dead?
Mother: Well, it was coughin' up blood last night.
Klaus: All right, I'll have the dead unjugged rabbit fish.
Voice over: One dead unjugged rabbit fish later:
Klaus: (putting down his knife and fork) Well, that was really
Mother: Aaw, you're always complainin'!
Klaus: Wha's for afters?
Mother: Rat cake, rat sorbet, rat pudding, or strawberry tart.
Klaus: (eyes lighting up) Strawberry tart?
Mother: Well, it's got *some* rat in it.
Klaus: 'Ow much?
Mother: Three. A lot, really.
Klaus: Well, I'll have a slice without so much rat in it.
Voice over: One slice of strawberry tart without so much rat in
Klaus: (putting down fork and knife) Appalling.
Mother: Naw, naw, naw!
Son: (coming in the door) 'Ello Mum. 'Ello Dad.
Klaus: 'Ello son.
Son: There's a dead bishop on the landing, dad!
Mother: Where's it from?
Son: Waddya mean?
Mother: What's its diocese?
Son: Well, it looked a bit Bath and Wells-ish to me...
Klaus: (getting up and going out the door) I'll go and have a
Mother: I don't know...kids bringin' 'em in here...
Son: It's not me!
Mother: I've got three of 'em down by the bin, and the dustmen
won't touch 'em!
Klaus: (coming back in) Leicester.
Mother: 'Ow d'you know?
Klaus: Tattooed on the back o' the neck. I'll call the police.
Mother: Shouldn't you call the church?
Son: Call the church police!
Klaus: 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!
Mother: Are you the church police?
All the police officers: (in unison) Ho, Yes!
Mother: There's another dead bishop on the landing, Vicar
Detective: Uh, Detective Parson, madam. I see... suffrican, or
Mother: 'Ow should I know?
Detective: It's tatooed on the back o' their neck. (spying the
tart) 'Ere, is that... *rat tart*?
Detective: 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!
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.
Klaus: I'd like you to take the three by the bin into
Detective: Right. I'll now ask you all to conclude this harrest
with a hymn.
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The church has nigged them all.
**** end of file BISHOP PYTHON 8/30/87 ****
*** from Matching Tie & Handkerchief LP
*** transcribed from tape 11/16/87 Daniel Rich
Narator: June the 4th, 1973. It was much like any other
in Petersburg, and Ralph Melish, a file clerk at an insurance
company, was on his way to work as usual when....(Dramatic
Scarcly able to believe his eyes, Ralph Melish looked down.
one glance confirmed his suspicions. Behind a bush on the side
of the road, there was no severed arm, no dismembered trunk of
man in his late fifties, no head in a bag, nothing...not a
For Ralph Melish, this was not to be the start of any trail of
events which would not, in no time at all, involve him in
a tangled knot of suspicion nor any web of lies, which would,
he been not uninvolved, surely have led to no other place than
the central criminal court of the old baliff.
(Sound of gavel banging)
But it was not to be. Ralph Melish reached his office in
Dallezll Street, Petersburg, at 9:05 am. Exactly the same time
as he usually got in.
Secretary: Morning Mr. Melish.
Melish: Morning Enid.
N: Enid, a sharp eyed, clever young girl, who had been with the
for only 4 weeks, couldn't help noticing the complete absence
tiny but teltale bloodstains on Mr. Melish's clothing. Nor did
she notice anything strange in Mr. Melish's behavior that
morning! Nor the next morning. Nor at any time before or since
the entire period she worked with that firm.
M: Have the new paper clips arived Enid?
S: Yes, they're over there Mr. Melish.
N: But for the lack of any untoward circumstances for this
secretary to notice, and the total non-involvement of Mr.
in anything illegal. The full weight of the law would have
ensured that Ralph Aldis Mellish would have ended up like all
challenge the fundemental laws of our society: in an iron
with spikes on the inside.
Wife: Turn that thing off. You'll be late for the bus. It's
half past nine.
Husband: It was indeed nearly half past nine.
W: Now off you go!
H: Off I went on a perfectly ordinary day....(fade out)
W: Oh, I'm so worried about him doctor.
Doctor: Yes. Yes, I know what you mean. I'm afraid he's
from what we doctor's call whooping cough. That is, the
of the autonomic nervous section of the brain to deal with the
nerve impulses that enable you and I to retain some facts and
W: Another dog?
D: Not for me thank you.
W: I'll have one last one.
D: (Spoken over barking and yelping) The human brain is like an
enormous fish. It's flat and slimy, and has through which it
see. (Gunshot, barking stops).
W: There we are.
D: Should one of these gills fail to open (sound of frying in
background) the messages transmitted by the lungs don't reach
brain. It's as simple as that.
W: Well, I'm a simple soul, I don't understand all that. All I
is he's not the same man as I married.
D: Am I the man you married Mrs. Egis?
W: No, no. Get away. You'll get struck off
D: Come on, come on.
W: I can't. I'm eating dog.
D: Come on, just a quick examination.
W: No, get off, I'm married.
H: But, Dr. Quatt was a man of quite remarkable medical
and determination. And within a few minutes, he had completely
removed my wife's knickers.
W: Get out you! (door slams) oo, oo, doctor. Oh doctor Quatt.
D: Now, now. Put your tongue in my mouth.
D: Oh, come on, come on. I've got your knickers.
(Music up and fade....)
(Gustaf Sj÷blom Juni 1995)
GC: I think all righthtinking people in this country are sick
and tired of being told that ordinary, decent people are fed up
in this country with being sick and tired.
All: Yes, yes...
GC: I'm certainly not! And I'm sick and tired of being told
that I am.
?: Mrs. Havoc-Jones.
Mrs. Havoc-Jones: Well, I meet a lot of people and I'm
convinced that the vast majority of wrongthinking people are
?: There seems like a consensus there. Could we have the next
Woman: I would like to ask the team what changes they would
make if they were Hitler?
GC: Well, speaking personally, I would annex the Sudetenland.
Norman: I think I'd pay some Dutchmen to set fire to Lord
Elephantoplasty (Who cares)
(Gustaf Sj÷blom Juni 1995)
JC: Tonight on "Who Cares" we examine the frontiers of surgery
and with us is the international financier Reginald Crisp and
his most successful patient to date, the elephant Mr. George
George Humphries: [Honk]
JC: Mr. Crisp, the surgery on Mr. Humphries is truly
remarkable, but why an elephant?
GC: Well, that was just a stroke of luck, really. An elephant's
trunk became available after a road acciden, and Mr. Humphries
happened to be walking past the hospital at the time.
JC: And what was Mr. Humphries reaction to the transplant of
the elephant's organs?
GC: Surprise at first, then later chock and deep anger and
resentment. But his family were marvellous, they ghelped pull
JC: How long was he in hospital?
GC: Well, he spen the first three weeks in our intensive care
unit, then eight weeks in the zoo.
JC: I see...is Mr. Humphries now able to lead a fairly normal
GC: No. Oh, no, no. No. No, he still has to wash himself in
rather a special way, he can only eat buns, and he's not
allowed on public transport. But I feel these are very minor
GC: ...when you consider the very sophisticated surgery that
Mr. Humphries has undergone. I mean each of those feet he's got
now weighs more than his whole body did before the
elephantoplasty, and the tusks are...
JC: Uh, some years ago you were the centre of controversy, both
from your own medical colleagues and from the church, when you
grafted a pederast onto an Anglican bishop.
GC: Well, that's the ignorance of the press, if I may say so.
We've done thousands of similar operations, it's just that this
time there was a bishop involved. I wish I could have more
JC: Is lack of donors a problem?
GC: There just aren't enough accidents. It's unethical and
timeconsuming to go out and cause them, so we have to rely on
whatever comes to hand: chairs, tables, floor cleaning
equipment, drying-up racks, pieces of pottery, and these do
pose almost insurmountable surgical problems. What I'm sitting,
in fact, is one of our more successful attempts. This is Mrs.
Dudley. She had little hope of survival; she'd lost interest in
life, but along comes this very attractive mahogny fram, and
now she's a jolly comfortable Chesterfield.
JC: Uh-hu, I see.
Cars outside: [Crash]
GC: Oh, excuse me! (runs away)
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 Cheese Shoppe ***
(a customer walks in the door.)
Customer: Good Morning.
Owner: Good morning, Sir. Welcome to the National Cheese
Customer: Ah, thank you, my good man.
Owner: What can I do for you, Sir?
Customer: 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.
Owner: Peckish, sir?
Customer: 'Ee, Ah wor 'ungry-loike!
Owner: Ah, hungry!
Customer: 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!
Owner: Come again?
Customer: I want to buy some cheese.
Owner: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bazouki
Customer: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all
manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse!
Customer: 'Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, 'yer forced too!
Owner: So he can go on playing, can he?
Customer: Most certainly! Now then, some cheese please, my good
Owner: (lustily) Certainly, sir. What would you like?
Customer: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.
Owner: I'm, a-fraid we're fresh out of red Leicester, sir.
Customer: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
Owner: I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week,
sir, we get it fresh on Monday.
Customer: Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces
of Caerphilly, if you please.
Owner: Ah! It's beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks. Was
expecting it this morning.
Customer: 'T's Not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Bel Paese?
Owner: Sorry, sir.
Customer: Red Windsor?
Owner: Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
Customer: Ah. Stilton?
Customer: Ementhal? Gruyere?
Customer: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.
Customer: White Stilton?
Customer: Danish Brew?
Customer: Double Goucester?
Customer: Dorset Bluveny?
Customer: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Port Salut, Savoy Aire,
Saint Paulin, Carrier de lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson?
Customer: Camenbert, perhaps?
Owner: Ah! We have Camenbert, yessir.
Customer: (suprised) You do! Excellent.
Owner: Yessir. It's..ah,.....it's a bit runny...
Customer: Oh, I like it runny.
Owner: Well,.. It's very runny, actually, sir.
Customer: No matter. Fetch hither the fromage de la Belle
Owner: I...think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it, sir.
Customer: I don't care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over
with all speed.
Customer: What now?
Owner: The cat's eaten it.
Customer: Has he.
Owner: She, sir.
Customer: Case Ness?
Customer: Smoked Austrian?
Customer: Japanese Sage Darby?
Owner: No, sir.
Customer: You...do *have* some cheese, don't you?
Owner: (brightly) Of course, sir. It's a cheese shop, sir.
Customer: No no... don't tell me. I'm keen to guess.
Owner: Fair enough.
Customer: Uuuuuh, Wensleydale.
Customer: Ah, well, I'll have some of that!
Owner: Oh! I thought you were talking to me, sir. Mister
Wensleydale, that's my name.
Customer: Greek Feta?
Owner: Uh, not as such.
Customer: Uuh, Gorgonzola?
Customer: Paper Cramer,
Customer: Danish Bimbo,
Customer: Czech sheep's milk,
Customer: Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?
Owner: Not *today*, sir, no.
Customer: Aah, how about Cheddar?
Owner: Well, we don't get much call for it around here, sir.
Customer: Not much ca--It's the single most popular cheese in
Owner: Not 'round here, sir.
Customer: and what IS the most popular cheese
Owner: 'Illchester, sir.
Customer: IS it.
Owner: Oh, yes, it's staggeringly popular in this manusquire.
Customer: Is it.
Owner: It's our number one best seller, sir!
Customer: I see. Uuh...'Illchester, eh?
Owner: Right, sir.
Customer: All right. Okay. 'Have you got any?' he asked,
expecting the answer 'no'.
Owner: I'll have a look, sir... nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno.
Customer: It's not much of a cheese shop, is it?
Owner: Finest in the district!
Customer: (annoyed) Explain the logic underlying that
Owner: Well, it's so clean, sir!
Customer: It's certainly uncontaminated by cheese....
Owner: (brightly) You haven't asked me about Limburger, sir.
Customer: Would it be worth it?
Owner: Could be....
Customer: Have you --SHUT THAT BLOODY BAZOUKI OFF!
Owner: Told you sir....
Customer: (slowly) Have you got any Limburger?
Customer: Figures. Predictable, really I suppose. It was an act
of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first
place. Tell me:
Customer: (deliberately) Have you in fact got any cheese here
Owner: No. Not really, sir.
Customer: You haven't.
Owner: Nosir. Not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your
Customer: Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shoot you.
Owner: Right-0, sir.
The customer takes out a gun and shoots the owner.
Customer: What a *senseless* waste of human life.
**** end of file CHEESHOP PYTHON ****
Now it's time for Great Actors, introduced as usual by Alan
Alan: Sir Edwin, which has been for you the most demanding of
Shakesperean tragic heroes that you've played?
Sir Edwin: Well, of course this is always a difficult one, but
I think the
answer must be Hamlet.
A: Which you played at Stratford in 1963.
E: That's right, yes, I found the role a very taxing one. I
mean, er, Hamlet
has eight thousand two hundred and sixty-two words, you see.
E: Oh yes. Othello's a bugger too, mind you--especially the
afterwards, but he has nine hundred and forty-one words less
On the other hand, the coon's got more pauses, sixty-two quite
long ones, as
I recall. But then they're not so tricky, you see--you don't
have to do so
much during them.
A: You don't.
E: No. No, not really. Andd they give you time to think what
sort of face
you're going to pull during the next speech so that it fits
the words you're
saying as far as possible.
A: How many words did you have to say as King Lear at the
Aldwitch in '52?
E: Ah, well, I don't want you to get the impression it's just a
question of the
number of words... um... I mean, getting them in the right
order is just as
important. Old Peter Hall used to say to me, "They're all
now we've got to get them in the right order." And, er, for
can also say one word louder than another--er, "To *be* or not
to be," or
"To be *or* not to be," or "To be or not to *be*"--you see?
And so on.
E: And of course inflection. In fact, Lear has only seven
thousand and fifty-
four words, but the real difficulty with Lear is that you've
got to play
him all--you know, shaky legs and pratfalls and the dentures
'cause he's ancient as hell, and then there's that
heartrending scene when
he goes right off his nut--you know, "bliddle dee dee diddle
dee dibble beep beep beep," and all that, which takes it out
of you, what
with having the crown to keep on. So Lear is tiring, although
to act, because you've only got to do despair and a bit of
they're the easiest.
A: Are they? What are the hardest?
E: Oh... um, fear.
E: Mmm, yes, never been able to get that--can't do the mouth. I
cross--it's a very fine line.
A: What else?
E: Apart from fear? Er, jealousy can be tricky... but for me,
difficult is being in love--you know, that openmouthed, vacant
Vanessa Redgrave's got off to a tee. Can't do that at all. And
frightfully awkward when I try that happy prancing, you know.
Which is a
shame, really, because otherwise Romeo's quite good for me--
thousand and eight and quite a lote of climbing and kissing.
A: Sir Edwin--get stuffed.
E: I've enjoyed it.
Background to History
(Gustaf Sj÷blom Juni 1995)
EI: The Background to History, Part Four.
GC: Good evening. One of the main elements in any assessment of
the medieval open files farming system is the availability of
oxen for the winter plowing. Professor Tofts of the University
of Manchester puts it like this:
The flowers in the winter...
GC: But of course, there is considerable evidence of open field
villages as far back as the 10th century. Professor Moorehead:
GC: This is not to say of course that the system was as
sophisticated as it later came to be. I asked the Professor of
Medieval Studies at Cambridge why this was.
Professor: Why...may not have been a ...a stature tree
obligation but, uh...I mean...uh, a guy who's a freman would,
uh, was obliged in the medieval system, to, uh, to do boom
work, yeah, that's right, yeah, as an example from the village
roles, uh, in 1313...
GC: And I believeyou were going to do it for us now?
Professor: That's right, yes.
... the village roles ...(sings)
EI: That was a talk on the open field farming system by
Professor Angus Jones. Some of the main points covered in this
talk are now available on a long playing record "The Ronette
Sing Medieval Agrarian History".
Oscar Wilde's Party
(Gustaf Sj÷blom Juni 1995)
TJ: Prince of Wales
GC: Oscar Wilde
MP: George Bernard Shaw
JC: James McNeill Whistler
Woman: London, 1892. 16 Tie Street, Chelsea, the residence of
Mr. Oscar Wilde.
EI: Mr. George Bernard Shaw! His Royal Highness The Prince of
TJ: Oh, my congratulations, Wilde. Your play is a great
success. The whole of London is talking about ya!
GC: Your Higness, there is only one thing in the world worse
than being talked about and that is not being talked about.
All: [Hysterical Laughter]
TJ: Oh, very witty, Wilde, very, very, witty!
JC: There is only one thing in the world worse than being
witty, and that is not being witty.
All: [More Hysterical Laughter]
GC: I wish I had said that, sire.
JC: You will, Oscar, you will.
GC: Your Highness, d'you know James McNeill Whistler?
TJ: Yes, we played squash together.
GC: There is only one thing worse than playing squash together,
and that is playing it by yourself. [Long Silence] I wish I
hadn't said that.
JC: Well, you did Oscar, you did.
All: [Light Laughter]
TJ: Well, you must forgive me, Wilde, but I must get back up
GC: Your Majesty, you're lika a big dram doughnut with cream on
TJ: I beg your pardon!?
GC: Uh, it was one of Whistler's.
JC: I didn't say that!
GC: You did, James, you did.
TJ: Well, Mr. Whistler?
JC: I-I meant Your Majesty, that, ahm, like a doughnut your
arruval gives us pleasure and your departure merely makes us
hungry for more.
JC: Right, Your Majesty is like stream of bats' piss!
JC: It was one of Wilde's.
GC: It certainly was not! It was Shaw's!
TJ: Well, Mr. Shaw?
MP: I-I-I merely meant Your Majesty that you shoned like a
shaft of gold when all around is dirt.
TJ: Oh, oh, very witty!
MP: Right! Your Majesty is like a dose of clap!
Woman: Oh, what!?
TJ: I beg your pardon!?
MP: It was one of Wilde's!
TJ: Ah, well, Mr. Wilde?
MP: Come on now, let's hear all about it!
TJ: That's an excellent one! Very witty, Wilde!
James McNeill Whistler 1834-1903 U.S. painter. Whistler was
famous as a wit and as the author of The Gentle Art of Making
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