Monty Python's Previous Record

Embarassment                                               1
Dennis Moore                                               1
Money Programme                                            1
Dennis Moore Continues                                     2
Australian Table Wines                                     2
Argument Clinic                                            3
Dennis Moore is not                                        6
Fish License                                               6
Miss Anne Elk                                              7

(Gustaf Sjöblom Juni 1995)

MP: Not this record! Not this record! Not this record!
EI: Are you embarrassed easily? I am. But it's nothing to worry
about.  It's  all  part of growing up and being  British.  This
course is designed to eliminate embarrassment

Dennis Moore

                         England, 1747

(Sounds of a coach and horses, galloping)

John Cleese: Stand and deliver!
Chapman: Not on your life (SHOT) ... aagh!

(Girl screams)

John Cleese: 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
definetely  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  see the three trees over there?  Well,  the  one
furthest away on the right... (fade)

Money Programme

Eric Idle sits at a desk between Michael Palin and John Cleese.
He  begins  quietly  but becomes increasingly  agitated  as  he

Eric  Idle:  Good evening, and welcome to The Money  Programme.
Tonight  on The Money Programme, we're going to look at  money.
Lots  of  it. On film, and in the studio. Some of  it  in  nice
piles, others in lovely clanky bits of loose change. Some of it
neatly  counted  into  fat  little  hundreds,  delicate  fivers
stuffed  into  bulging wallets, nice crisp clean  checks,  pert
pieces  of  copper  coinage thrust deep into  trouser  pockets,
romantic  foreign  money rolling against the thigh  with  rough
familiarity,  beautiful wayward curlicued banknotes,  filigreed
copper  plating cheek by jowl with tumbly ( ? ) rubbing  gently
against the terse leather of beautifully balanced bank books!!

(He looks around in surprised realization that he's panting and

Eric Idle: I'm sorry.

(adjusts tie, darts eyes around room)

Eric Idle: But I love money. All money. (growing excited again)
I've always wanted money. To handle! To touch! The smell of the
rain-washed florin! The lure of the lira! The glitter  and  the
glory  of  the guinea! (stands up ) The romance of  the  ruble!
(stands  on chair) The feel of the franc! (stands on desk)  The
heel  of  the  deutschmark! (stomps foot) The  cold  antiseptic
sting  of  the  Swiss franc! And the sunburnt splendor  of  the
Australian dollar! (slaps knee)

(sings  the  rest while dancing across desk; Michael  and  John
just look at him blandly.)

I've got ninety thousand pounds in my bank account.
I've got forty thousand French francs in my fridge.
I've got lots and lots of lira,
Now the deutschmark's getting dearer,
And my dollar bill could buy the Brooklyn Bridge.
There is...

(enter a chorus of 5 men in women's pilgrim costumes)

...nothing quite as wonderful as money!
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash!
Some people say it's folly, but I'd rather have the lolly (?),
With money you can make a splash!

(chorus  kneels ans sings "money, money, money" through  Idle's
solos )

There is nothing quite as wonderful as money!
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash!
Everyone  must hanker for the butchness of a banker  (all  give
Italian Salute)
It's the currency that makes the world go round!

(a harp is wheeled across the stage but not played)

You can keep your Marxist ways, for it's only just a phase...
Money, money, money makes the world go round!

(play  money  falls  from above as chorus  reaches  a  glorious

Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money!

(Fade up again)

Dennis Moore Continues

John  Cleese: 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?
John Cleese: Serrated edges.
Id: A willow!
John Cleese: Yes.
Id: That's nothing like a willow.
John Cleese: Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven
times out of ten, that's the point.
Id: Never a willow.
John Cleese: 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?
John Cleese: Yes, lupins. Come on, come on.
Id: What do you mean, lupins?
John Cleese: Don't try to play for time.
Id: I'm not, but... the *flower* lupin?
John Cleese: Yes, that's right.
Jo: Well we haven't got any lupins.
Girl: Honestly.
John  Cleese: Look, my friends. I happen to know that  this  is
the Lupin Express.
Jo: Damn!
Girl: Oh, here you are.
John Cleese: In a bunch, in a bunch!
Jo: Sorry.
John Cleese: 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.


Australian Table Wines

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

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.

Argument Clinic
             From "Monty Python's Previous Record"
        and "Monty Python's Instant Record Collection"

Originally transcribed by Dan Kay (dan@reed.uucp)
Fixed  up  and  Added "Complaint" and "Being Hit  On  The  Head
lessons" Aug/ 87
by Tak Ariga (

The Cast (in order of appearance.)
    M= Man looking for an argument
    R= Receptionist                Girl
    Q= Abuser
    A= Arguer                    John Cleese
    C= Complainer                 Eric Idle
    H= Head Hitter

M: Ah. I'd like to have an argument, please.
R: Certainly sir. Have you been here before?
M: No, I haven't, this is my first time.
R:  I see. Well, do you want to have just one argument, or were
you thinking of taking a course?
M: Well, what is the cost?
R:  Well,  It's one pound for a five minute argument, but  only
eight pounds for a course of ten.
M: Well, I think it would be best if I perhaps started off with
just the one and then see how it goes.
R: Fine. Well, I'll see who's free at the moment.
R: Mr. DeBakey's free, but he's a little bit conciliatory.
 Ahh yes, Try Mr. Barnard; room 12.
M: Thank you.

 (Walks down the hall. Opens door.)

M: Well, I was told outside that...
Q:  Don't  give  me  that,  you  snotty-faced  heap  of  parrot
M: What?
Q:  Shut your festering gob, you tit! Your type really makes me
puke, you vacuous, coffee-nosed, maloderous, pervert!!!
M:  Look,  I CAME HERE FOR AN ARGUMENT, I'm not going  to  just
Q: OH, oh I'm sorry, but this is abuse.
M: Oh, I see, well, that explains it.
Q: Ah yes, you want room 12A, Just along the corridor.
M: Oh, Thank you very much. Sorry.
Q: Not at all.
M: Thank You.
 (Under his breath) Stupid git!!

 (Walk down the corridor)
M: (Knock)
A: Come in.
M: Ah, Is this the right room for an argument?
A: I told you once.
M: No you haven't.
A: Yes I have.
M: When?
A: Just now.
M: No you didn't.
A: Yes I did.
M: You didn't
A: I did!
M: You didn't!
A: I'm telling you I did!
M: You did not!!
A:  Oh,  I'm  sorry,  just one moment. Is this  a  five  minute
argument or the full half hour?
M: Oh, just the five minutes.
A: Ah, thank you. Anyway, I did.
M: You most certainly did not.
A:  Look,  let's get this thing clear; I quite definitely  told
M: No you did not.
A: Yes I did.
M: No you didn't.
A: Yes I did.
M: No you didn't.
A: Yes I did.
M: No you didn't.
A: Yes I did.
M: You didn't.
A: Did.
M: Oh look, this isn't an argument.
A: Yes it is.
M: No it isn't. It's just contradiction.
A: No it isn't.
M: It is!
A: It is not.
M: Look, you just contradicted me.
A: I did not.
M: Oh you did!!
A: No, no, no.
M: You did just then.
A: Nonsense!
M: Oh, this is futile!
A: No it isn't.
M: I came here for a good argument.
A: No you didn't; no, you came here for an argument.
M: An argument isn't just contradiction.
A: It can be.
M: No it can't. An argument is a connected series of statements
intended to establish a proposition.
A: No it isn't.
M: Yes it is! It's not just contradiction.
A:  Look,  if  I  argue with you, I must  take  up  a  contrary
M: Yes, but that's not just saying 'No it isn't.'
A: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
M:  Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is  just
the  automatic  gainsaying of any statement  the  other  person
    (short pause)
A: No it isn't.
M: It is.
A: Not at all.
M: Now look.
A: (Rings bell)
 Good Morning.
M: What?
A: That's it. Good morning.
M: I was just getting interested.
A: Sorry, the five minutes is up.
M: That was never five minutes!
A: I'm afraid it was.
M: It wasn't.
A: I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to argue anymore.
M: What?!
A:  If  you  want me to go on arguing, you'll have to  pay  for
another five minutes.
M: Yes, but that was never five minutes, just now. Oh come on!
A: (Hums)
M: Look, this is ridiculous.
A: I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid!
M: Oh, all right.
 (pays money)
A: Thank you.
    short pause
M: Well?
A: Well what?
M: That wasn't really five minutes, just now.
A: I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid.
M: I just paid!
A: No you didn't.
A: No you didn't.
M: Look, I don't want to argue about that.
A: Well, you didn't pay.
M: Aha. If I didn't pay, why are you arguing? I Got you!
A: No you haven't.
M: Yes I have. If you're arguing, I must have paid.
A: Not necessarily. I could be arguing in my spare time.
M: Oh I've had enough of this.
A: No you haven't.
M: Oh Shut up.

(Walks down the stairs. Opens door.)

M: I want to complain.
C:  You  want to complain! Look at these shoes. I've  only  had
them three weeks and the heels are worn right through.
M: No, I want to complain about...
C:  If  you  complain nothing happens, you might  as  well  not
M: Oh!
C:  Oh my back hurts, it's not a very fine day and I'm sick and
tired of this office.

(Slams door. walks down corridor, opens next door.)

M: Hello, I want to... Ooooh!
H:  No, no, no. Hold your head like this, then go Waaah. Try it
M: uuuwwhh!!
H: Better, Better, but Waah, Waah! Put your hand there.
M: No.
H: Now..
M: Waaaaah!!!
H: Good, Good! That's it.
M: Stop hitting me!!
H: What?
M: Stop hitting me!!
H: Stop hitting you?
M: Yes!
H: Why did you come in here then?
M: I wanted to complain.
H:  Oh no, that's next door. It's being-hit-on-the-head lessons
in here.
M: What a stupid concept.

Dennis Moore is not

Choir: Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore is not in this bit

Burying the cat/Putting your budgie down

Transcribed from Monty Python's Previous Record

Mrs Premise   :   John Cleese
Mrs Conclusion:   Graham Chapman

Mrs ConclusionHello Mrs Premise!
Mrs Premise   Ooh, hello Mrs Conclusion!
Mrs ConclusionBusy day?
Mrs Premise   Busy!? I just spent four hours burying the cat.
Mrs ConclusionFour hours to bury the cat?
Mrs Premise   Yes, it wouldn't keep still, wriggling about,
Mrs ConclusionOh, it's not dead then?
Mrs Premise   Oh no no, but it's not at all a well cat and as
we're going
        away for a fourtnight, I thought to better bury it
just to be
        on the safe side.
Mrs ConclusionRight, right. You don't want to come back from
Sorrento to a
        dead cat, do you?
Mrs Premise   Yes.
Mrs ConclusionWe've decided to have the budgie put down.
Mrs Premise   Oh, is it very old then?
Mrs ConclusionNo, we just don't like 'it.
Mrs Premise   Aww...How do they put budgies down?
Mrs ConclusionIt's funny you should ask that. I've been
reading a great big
        book on how to put your budgie down, and evidently
you can
        either hit them with the book, or you can shoot them
        just above the beak.
Mrs Premise   Mmmm...Mrs Essence flushed hers down the loo.
Mrs ConclusionOh, that's dangerous, 'cause they breed in the
sewers and
        eventually you get huge evil smelling flocks of soil
        flying out of peoples lavatories infringing their

1Fish License
    Transcribed 4/18/87 from Monty Python's Previous Record

Man:  (whistles a bit, then) Hello. I would like to buy a  fish
licence, please.
Postal Clerk: A what?
Man: A licence for my pet fish, Eric.
Postal Clerk: How did you know my name was Eric?
Man:  No,  no, no! My fish's name is Eric. Eric fish.  He's  an
Postal Clerk: What?
Man: He is an halibut.
Postal 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.
Postal 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!
Postal Clerk: All right, all right, all right. A licence?
Man: Yes!
Postal Clerk: For a fish.
Man: Yes!
Postal 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.
Postal 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
Postal Clerk: There is no such thing as a bloody Cat Licence.
Man: Yes there is.
Postal Clerk: No there isn't.
Man: Is!
Postal Clerk: Isn't!
Man: I've bleedin' got one, look! What's that then?
Postal 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.
Postal Clerk: What man?
Man: The man from the cat detector van.
Postal Clerk: The loony detector van, you mean.
Man: Look, it's people like you what cause unrest.
Postal Clerk: What cat detector van?
Man: The cat detector van from the Ministry of Housinge.
Postal 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.
Postal Clerk: How much did you pay for this?
Man: Sixty quid and eight for the fruit-bat.
Postal Clerk: What fruit-bat?
Man: Eric the fruit-bat.
Postal Clerk: Are all your pets called Eric?
Man: There's nothing so odd about that. Kemel Attaturk2 had  an
entire menagerie called Abdul.
Postal Clerk: No he didn't.
Man: Did!
Postal Clerk: Didn't!
Man: Did, did, did, did, did and did!
Postal Clerk: Oh all right.
Man:  Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to  give
me a fish licence?
Postal  Clerk: I promise you that there is no such  thing.  You
don't need one.
Man: In that case give me a bee licence.
Postal Clerk: A licence for your pet bee.
Man: Correct.
Postal Clerk: Called Eric? Eric the bee?
Man: No.
Postal Clerk: No?
Man: No, Eric the half bee. He had an accident.
Postal 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,

Man: The end.
Postal Clerk:´Cyril Connolly?
Man: No, semi-carnally!
Postal Clerk: Oh.
Chorus: Cyril Connolly. (Whistle end of tune.)

Miss Anne Elk

    as transcribed by Tim Pointing, DCIEM 
            From "Monty Python's Previous Record"

            Cast:    Chris (Interviewer)
                Anne Elk

Chris: Good evening. Tonight: "dinosaurs". I have here, sitting
in the
    studio next to me, an elk.
    Oh, I'm sorry! Anne Elk - Mrs Anne Elk
Anne:    Miss!
C: Miss Anne Elk, who is an expert on di...
A: N' n' n' n' no! Anne Elk!
C: What?
A: Anne Elk, not Anne Expert!
C: No! No, I was saying that you, Miss Anne Elk, were an , A-N
    A-N-N-E, expert...
A: Oh!
C: ...on elks - I'm sorry, on dinosaurs. I'm ...
A: Yes, I certainly am, Chris. How very true. My word yes.
C: Now, Miss Elk - Anne - you have a new theory about the
A: Can I just say here, Chris for one moment, that I have a new
 about the brontosaurus?
C: Uh... Exactly... What is it?
A: Where?
C: No! No, what is your theory?
A: What is my theory?
C: Yes!
A: What is my theory that it is? Yes. Well, you may well ask
what is my theory.
C: I am asking.
A: And well you may. Yes, my word, you may well ask what it is,
 theory of mine. Well, this theory, that I have, that is to
say, which is
 mine,... is mine.
C: I know it's yours! What is it?
A: ... Where? ... Oh! Oh! What is my theory?
C: Yes!
A: Ahh! My theory, that I have, follows the lines that I am
about to
 relate. [starts prolonged throat clearing]
C: [under breath] Oh, God!
    [Anne still clearing throat]
A: The Theory, by A. Elk (that's "A" for Anne", it's not by a
C: Right...
A: [clears throat] This theory, which belongs to me, is as
    [more throat clearing]
 This is how it goes...
    [clears throat]
 The next thing that I am about to say is my theory.
    [clears throat]
C: [wimpers]
A: The Theory, by A. Elk [Miss]. My theory is along the
following lines...
C: [under breath]God!
A: ...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.
C: That's it, is it?
A: Right, Chris!
C: Well, Anne, this theory of yours seems to have hit the nail
right on the
A: ... and it's mine.
C: Thank you for coming along to the studio.
A: My pleasure, Chris.
C: Britain's newest wasp farm...
A: It's been a lot of fun...
C: ...opened last week...
A: ...saying what my theory is...
C: ... Yes, thank you.
A: ...and whose it is.
C: Yes.... opened last week...
A: I have another theory.
C: Not today, thank you.
A: My theory #2, which is the second theory that I have.
[clears throat].
 This theory...
C: Look! Shut up!
A: what I am about to say.
C: Please shut up!
A: which, with what I have said, are the two theories that are
mine and
 which belong to me.
C: If you don't shut up, I shall have to shoot you!
A: [clears throat] My xxx theory, which I posses the ownership
of, which
 belongs to...

    [Sound of a single gun shot]

A: [clearing throat] The Theory the Second, by Anne...

    [Sound of prolonged machine gun fire]

How to do it

Transcribed from Monty Python's Previous Record.

Alan     : John Cleese
Jackie   : Eric Idle
GC  : Graham Chapman (he's never given a name in the sketch)

AlanHello children!
Jackie   Hello!
GC  Hello!
AlanWell, last week we showed you how to be a gynaecologist,
and this week
    on "How to do it", we're gonna learn how to play the
flute, how to
    split the atom, how to construct box-girder bridges...
Jackie   Super!
Alan...and how to irrigate the Sahara and make vast new areas
    but first here's Jackie to tell you how to rid the world
of all known
Jackie   Hello Alan!
AlanHello Jackie!
Jackie   Well first of all, become a doctor and discover a
marvellous cure for
    something and then, when the medical world really starts
to take notice
    of you, you can jolly well tell them what to do and make
sure they get
    everything right, so that there'll never be diseases
AlanThanks Jackie, that was great!
GC  Fantastic!
AlanNow, how to play the flute. Well, you blow in one end and
move your
    fingers up and down the outside.
GC  Great Alan! Well, next week we'll be showing you how black
and white
    people can live together in peace and harmony and Alan
will be over in
    Moscow showing you how to reconcile the Russians and the
Chinese. Till
    then, cheerio!
Jackie   Bye bye!
GC  Bye!

Eclipse of the sun

And  nowfor  the first time ever on  recordwe
proudly present the 1972 Eclipse of the sun! 

John Cleese as Brian
Eric Idle as Peter
Graham Chapman as Jim
Terry Jones as the man with the megaphone
And as the narrator
Michael Palin

Brian     Well,  here we are at Lords, waiting for the  eclipse
of the sun...Peter.
Peter    Yes, the ground's in tip-top condition and I think  we
can expect some first rate   eclipsing this morning...Brian.
Brian     Well, we're certainly all looking forward to it  very
much up here...Jim.
Jim And to look at the eclipse of the sun through...
Peter    Of the sun through?
Jim Yes, to look at the eclipse of the sun through...
Brian    I don't understand.
Jim To look through, at the eclipse of the sun...
Brian    What?
Jim   I   haven't   finished...We  have  this      surely,
Brian    Absolutely.
Jim ...quite superb...
Brian    Hear, hear.
Jim Quite agree.
Peter    What?
Jim Eh...piece of smoked glass.
Brian    Absolutely.
Jim Which must be fully...
Brian     easily...
Peter    Must be!
Brian    Absolutely.
Jim No question.
Peter    Jolly good!
Terry    Start again!
Jim  Well,  here  we are at Lord's with this  piece  of  smoked
Jim  Oh, please?...oh, oh, glass!...waiting quite superbly  for
the eclipse of the sunlike object.
Brian     And  here,  if  I'm  very much  mistaken,  comes  the
Jim Yes, you are very much mistaken. Here it comes...Peter.
Peter    Yes, I can't see anyone stopping it now!
Brian    No, it's all over bar the shouting.
Jim  The  sands of time must surely be drawing to a  close  for
this plucky   solar......oh!?
Brian    Oh!?
Peter    Oh!?
Jim Oh.
Brian    Rain!
Peter    Rain!
Jim  Rain...Uh-hmm....Well, what a shame, the rain is beginning
to come down now here at     Lord's..
Brian    Light's going, too...
Peter    Yes, going really quite fast...
Jim Mind you, it's getting quite murky up here now...
Brian     You  can  hardly  see your glass  in  front  of  your
Jim  What  a  shame.  Well, that's it  from  Lord's  then,  I'm
afraid, but we'll be back here again   the moment there is  any
sign of improvement.

Narrator Well, while we're waiting to take you back to  Lord's,
we  play  you  a recording     of Alistair Cook being  attacked
by a duck.

1   Man:                John Cleese
    Postal Clerk:             Michael Palin
2   Kemal Atatürk (Mustafa Kemal) 1881-1938; President i
Turkiet 1923-1938.

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