Le Colonel Neville s’habille Tojours Pour le Diner. Semper Fi. Thomas Sowell: "There are three questions that I think would destroy most of the arguments on the left. The first is compared to what? The second is at what cost and the third is what hard evidence do you have?” Live free or die or both. Satirical empirical conservative. No, really.
Saturday, 23 February 2008
The deliberately lost 'Goons Show' script impression!
The great and wonderful Goon Show was Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers and Harry Secombe. They are pictured here disguised as three leeks held by three anonymous BBC employees.
Dear Sports, here is my feeble attempt at a script in 'the style of' the Goon Show. The Goons were kind of the greatest radio comedy team of all time. They were free and self contained, thus they've not really dated a moment. I should be so lucky. Please send all your applause by registered truck in an unmarked bank account, Jim!
MC: The scene: The crumpled and waterlogged hideout of England’s most dangerous criminal librarian, Emil Pie and his naughty chum Berty Ankles, formerly the player of a concrete piano, but he couldn’t cut it. And now the story.
Emil: I’ve invented the barbed wire canoe! We’re free at last!
Bert: Why that’s ridiculous. Surely the water just pours in?
Emil: Not on land it won’t. In the sea, the water will run out again.
Bert: Well, lashed me to a packet of assorted breakfast cereals. You’ve thought of everything.
Emil: I knew I’d forgotten something! Aye, that’s the rub. That’s the rub…
Bert: Stop it!
Emil: We must leave England. I’m tired of being on the run I tell you.
Bert: Eat more fibre.
MC: The two wretched but decent murderers decide to leave their sodden secret hideout made of secretly made secret hides, to seek the secret advice of one Neville Plank , Former Scotland Flowerbox, now turned to crime and a curious shade of secret plaid, on forming a secret plan of escape to a secret destination.
[Emil knocking on impression of a secret door.] Emil: Hello Neville, we are here at your door.
Neville: Ah, Emil, how exasperating to see you. Here, have some of these delicious exasperries and cream. I curdled it myself.
Emil: No thank you Neville, I had a photograph of a trifle on the way here. What I want to say is…
Neville: And obviously you have. Now let’s get down to business, my dearest little physical apparition. Here, roll this policeman’s gazette between your knees and make yourself uncomfortable. Now, how can I help you?
Emil: How can you help me?
Neville: I just said that.
Emil: Thanks for the help.
Neville: Please, I’m getting a terrible headache. I think it was that sharp blow you gave me.
Emil: Sorry mate. It’s a nervous twitch.
Neville: How nice to meet you.
Bert: Thankyou.
Neville: Now listen carefully lads, your problem is a difficult one, but the answer is quite obvious.
Bert: How obvious?
Neville: Not that obvious.
Bert: You’re the boss, Nev!
Neville: As I was saying, how did you build your criminal library empire? By looting half the books in England!
Bert: So that’s why I can only read half a book!
Neville: Precisely. By hiding thousands of volumes between the pages of the Times, no one was the wiser. Don’t you see? I can get you both safely out of our sunny Isles the same way, and do the crossword puzzle at the same time.
Bert: As what?
Neville: As escape, my average height economy sized criminal duo.
Emil: Fantastic! Let’s go.
Neville: Not yet. Later…much Later. The timing must be absolutely precision perfect. [One second later.] So everything is ready lads. Quickly, inside page three and make yourselves comfortable. There isn’t a moment to lose. [Sounds of train and howling wind.] So here we are on a train heading for the coast. Nothing can stop us now. My plan is far too perfect and simple to fail.
Emil: Why couldn’t we sit inside?
Bert: I don’t like these sandwiches. My tea will go cold.
Neville: If you want to see real suffering, you should see 2nd class. Here, pour the tea down the front of your shirt, and the body warmth will stabilise the tea at the desired temperature. When you’re ready for some tiffin, you simply wring your string singlet back into your cup.
Bert: You’re so kind, Plank. Aaaaaargh! It’s scalding!
Neville: Of course, no one would scream like that otherwise. Yes, you’ve certainly convinced me.
MC: The lads settled in for the night lulled to sleep by the clickety clack of the public convenience, when they were suddenly awoken by the sound of a very copper voice. [Sound of very large flat feet.]
Copper: ‘Ere, what are you doing on the roof of this train? Where’s your first class ticket?
Neville: I was rather hoping you’d tell me. But if you would rather that a civilian is privy to police business, that’s entirely your affair. A need to know basis and so on. Here, be a good man and do hold onto this briefcase full of twenty thousand Euros.
Copper: Exactly. ‘Ere, I see you have the Times. Let me fill in the crossword puzzle with a paintbrush and ah, we can all carry on as we were.
Neville: Certainly Constable. Here, have some lovely money.
Copper: I’m sorry sir, but we coppers are not allowed to take bribes while on duty. Here’s an address in Clapham!
MC: But when the Police officer and amateur contortionist opens the newspaper, out fall our two fugitives. The offending type boys are doomed.
Copper: What’s this then, eh? A three letter word for a small furry animal that drinks milk and has sharp teeth?
Bert: Jim?
Copper: Wait a minute. What do we have here? England’s two most wanted naughty people. You’ll walk the Neville for this Plank. Everybody put their hands together.
Bert: You’re going to arrest us?
Copper: No. It’s the end of the first half of the show.
MC: Defeated, but still with their legs, the two lads resign themselves to incarceration or worse.
Neville: Look here, my dear copper. What about letting us see a last soccer match, there’s a decent fellow? It’s the home team. My Grandmother’s playing.
Copper git: Well, it’s highly illegal, unethical, a stupid and reckless whim that would destroy my chances of any promotion.
Neville: Here’s a bag of plasticine grapes and some more lovely money.
Copper: Done!
MC: Our temporarily reprieved felons are escorted to the game. Its Lands End United vs North North North.
Emil whispering: Er, Neville. Why are we at this soccer game?
Neville: Leave everything to me. While our copper friend was noshing on his modelling dough grapes and filling in the Times crossword puzzle, I cleverly made a secret phone call on my secret soup tin and string. I’ve arranged for one of the players to kick the ball to me. By simply pulling on a chord protruding from said bouncey bouncey, an inflatable air balloon will be released. Now I want you and Bert to hold onto it for dear life, and if my weather predictions are correct, you should be lifted and carried on the prevailing winds all the way to France and freedom.
Emil: But what about the copper? How will you distract him?
Nevile: Simple. A rather large cardboard box was secretly placed under our seats.
Bert: Hey. Everyone loves cardboard. It’s got to work.
Neville: Quite. No, it’s what’s inside the box.
Bert: What is it?
Neville: A Bengal tiger.
Emil: But he’s a copper! He won’t notice.
Neville: I’ve planned for that very situation. The tiger will be wearing a red carnation.
Emil: You’re a genius.
Neville: Thank you. That’ll be ten thousand Euros in freshly dry cleaned notes.
Emil: A bargain!
MC: As planned, the ball is kicked towards the lads as Neville catches it.
Copper: I like the way you handle a ball, Neville.
Neville: Thankyou. I am a Doctor after all. Er, the lads and I have done a bit of a whip around and bought you a small gift for being such a nice policeman. Why don’t you open it now?
Copper: How kind. I don’t know what to say…
Neville: Try screaming.
Copper: Aaaaagh!
Neville: Quickly lads! There’s not a moment to lose. Grab a hold of the pajama string and escape across the channel to Froggy land.
Emil: Thankyou so much Neville. You’ve been more than a friend, you’ve been an enemy too!
MC: The crime infested lads pull together on the string and are quickly lifted up into the sky by the rapidly inflated balloon.
Bert: We’ll never forget you, Smith!
Neville: Good luck lads and bon voyage. I’ve emptied both your bank accounts.
MC: The chums in crime drift over the Channel and eventually descend onto the beach of St. Tropez, where they land on the French actress, Sophie Marceau.
Sophie: Oh, hullo little Englishmen clinging to a balloon. How are you?
Emil: Surprised, but pleasantly crippled and broken.
Sophie: You must be very thirsty. Your tongues are hanging out. Would you care to come to my house for refreshment and a nice bite?
Bert: Do you have tea?
Sophie: I have two!
Emil: Charming woman.
MC: Later, back at the apartment of the delicious French actress.
Emil: You have a magnificent tea set, Sophie.
Sophie: Why thank you Emil. You are very nice for obviously hardened men.
MC: Meanwhile Neville, cool as ever, was about to play his final card. The scene, a court room.
Judge: It took all morning to catch this room, but on with the trial. The dignity of the court will be enforced. Bailiff, pay the power bill and get the lights back on. Clerk, extend the rental on this furniture. Neville, how do you plead?
Neville: In a very high voice, your Honour. I’m innocent! As sure as my name is Plank, I’ve never been to a fence.
Judge: I order that remark to be stricken from the record, as it’s obviously falsetto. Now, about your naughty criminal activities. If found guilty, you could face the death penalty or worse. I will also want to give you a large fine.
Neville: Thanks Judge. I could do with the money.
Judge: You’ve heard the telling and impartial evidence of our distinguished councils against this swine. What do you say? I say he’s guilty!
Jury: After due consideration of our secret bank accounts, we find the defendant not guilty.
Judge: In that case, Neville Plank, you will be taken from this court to a place of dining in the West End, where justice will be served. Anything to say, Neville?
Neville: About time. All I’ve had to eat all day are these plasticine grapes.
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