Title: Crunchy Frog
            From: Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl

 Inspector: 'ELLO!

Mr. Hilton: 'Ello.

 Inspector:  Mr. 'ilton?

    Hilton:  A-yes?

 Inspector: You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company?

Mr. Hilton: I am, yes.

 Inspector: 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". 

Mr. Hilton: Oh, yes.

 Inspector: 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

Mr. Hilton: Ah, agreed.

 Inspector: Then we have number four.  Number four: Crunchy Frog.

Mr. Hilton: Yes.

 Inspector: Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in 'ere?

Mr. Hilton: Yes, a little one.

 Inspector: What sort of frog?

Mr. Hilton: A...a *dead* frog.

 Inspector: Is it cooked?

Mr. Hilton: No.

 Inspector: What, a RAW frog?!?

Mr. Hilton: 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.

 Inspector: That's as may be, but it's still a frog!

Mr. Hilton: What else?

 Inspector: Well, don't you even take the bones out?

Mr. Hilton: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?

 Inspector: Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public!

 Constable: Uh, would you excuse me a moment, Sir?   (exits)

 Inspector: 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! 

Mr. Hilton: (outraged) MOCK frog!?!  We use NO artificial additives or
            preservatives of ANY kind! 

 Inspector: 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! 

Mr. Hilton: What about our sales?

 Inspector: 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?

Mr. Hilton: 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. 

 Inspector: LARK'S VOMIT?!?!?

Mr. Hilton: Correct.

 Inspector: It doesn't say anything here about lark's vomit!

Mr. Hilton: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after "monosodium

 Inspector: 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!!!" 

Mr. Hilton: Our sales would plummet!

 Inspector: (screaming) Well why don't you move into more conventional areas of

            (the constable returns)

 Inspector: 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! 

 Constable: MMMMWWWAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!! (Throws up in helmet)

 Inspector: (continuing)  And what is this one: Spring Surprise?

Mr. Hilton: 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. 

 Inspector: (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.

Mr. Hilton: (shrugging) It's a fair cop.

 Inspector: And DON'T talk to the audience.

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