random thread by Guywhowantsafireflyofhisown

I have gone insane from boredom, therefore, LET RANDOMNESS PREVAIL!!!

End of line.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 10:06 AM

WHIMSICALNBRAINPAN

Oooooo am I first again?
Yay I am!
"Well, my days of not taking you seriously are certainly coming to a middle." http://whimsicalnbrainpan.blogspot.com/

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 10:08 AM

TRISTAN

Arrhh!!

______________________________________

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 10:09 AM

If I told you I was in love with your plastic flamingo, would you hold it against me?

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 10:15 AM

KANEMAN

Can you just start a random thread? Sounds gay to me...Well, it's true.....

NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 10:20 AM

well, you've done it:

http://fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=10&t=22598

why doesn't my refrigerator fire it's nuclear spoon every time I open the door?

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 11:19 AM

*Juggles geese while waiting for more ppl*

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 1:20 PM

PENGUIN

King of the Mythical Land that is Iowa

NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 5:27 PM

why is the rum gone?!

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 5:34 PM

DRPAIN

Because I drank it all Guy. Has anyone seen my pants lately?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WWJD: What Would Jayne Do?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 5:37 PM

yeah, I think I saw them in the PAR-TAY thread's chocolate fountain

STUPEFY!!!

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 5:42 PM

DRPAIN

Thanks Guy! *runs..no staggers off to the PAR-TAY Thread to get his pants*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WWJD: What Would Jayne Do?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 5:44 PM

*Stunning spell hits Pain in the back mid-stagger*

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 6:22 PM

WHIMSICALNBRAINPAN

ROFLMAO Penguin!

"Well, my days of not taking you seriously are certainly coming to a middle." http://whimsicalnbrainpan.blogspot.com/

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 6:31 PM

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

(I'm actually asking this time)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 7:24 PM

WHIMSICALNBRAINPAN

Don't know what to make of it.

"Well, my days of not taking you seriously are certainly coming to a middle." http://whimsicalnbrainpan.blogspot.com/

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 7:51 PM

(Cut to an upper-class drawing room. An elderly man lies dead on the floor. Enter Jasmina and John.)
Jasmina: Anyway, John, you can catch the 11.30 from Hornchurch and be in Basingstoke by one o'clock, oh, and there's a buffet car and... (sees corpse) oh! Daddy!

John: My hat! Sir Horace!

Jasmina: (not daring to look) Has he been...

John: Yes - after breakfast. But that doesn't matter now... he's dead.

Jasmina: Oh! Poor daddy...

John: Looks like I shan't be catching the 11.30 now.

Jasmina: Oh no, John, you mustn't miss your train.

John: How could I think of catching a train when I should be here helping you?

Jasmina: Oh, John, thank you... anyway you could always catch the 9.30 tomorrow - it goes via Caterham and Chipstead.

John: Or the 9.45's even better.

Jasmina: Oh, but you'd have to change at Lambs Green.

John: Yes, but there's only a seven-minute wait now.

Jasmina: Oh, yes, of course, I'd forgotten it was Friday. Oh, who could have done this.

(Enter Lady Partridge.)

Lady Partridge: Oh, do hurry Sir Horace, your train leaves in twenty-eight minutes, and if you miss the 10.15 you won't catch the 3.45 which means ... oh!

John: I'm afraid Sir Horace won't be catching the 10.15, Lady Partridge.

Lady Partridge: Has he been... ?

Jasmina: Yes - after breakfast.

John: Lady Partridge, I'm afraid you can cancel his seat reservation.

Lady Partridge: Oh, and it was back to the engine - fourth coach along so that he could see the gradient signs outside Swanborough.

John: Not any more Lady Partridge... the line's been closed.

Lady Partridge: Closed! Not Swanborough!

John: I'm afraid so.

(Enter Inspector Davis.)

Inspector: All right, nobody move. I'm Inspector Davis of Scotland Yard.

John: My word, you were here quickly, inspector.

Inspector: Yeah, I got the 8.55 Pullman Express from King's Cross and missed that bit around Hornchurch.

Lady Partridge: It's a very good train.

All: Excellent, very good, delightful.

(Tony runs in through the french windows. He wears white flannels and boater and is jolly upper-class.)

Tony: Hello everyone.

All: Tony!

Tony: Where's daddy? (seeing him) Oh golly! Has he been... ?

John and Jasmina: Yes, after breakfast.

Tony: Then ... he won't be needing his reservation on the 10.15.

John: Exactly.

Tony: And I suppose as his eldest son it must go to me.

Inspector: Just a minute, Tony There's a small matter of... murder.

Tony: Oh, but surely he simply shot himself and then hid the gun.

Lady Partridge: How could anyone shoot himself and then hide the gun without first canceling his reservation.

Tony: Ha, ha! Well, I must dash or I'll be late for the 10.15.

Inspector: I suggest yOu murdered your father for his seat reservation.

Tony: I may have had the motive, inspector, but I could not have done it, for I have only just arrived from Gillingham on the 8.13 and here's my restaurant car ticket to prove it.

Jasmina: The 8. 13 from Gillingham doesn't have a restaurant car.

John: It's a standing buffet only.

Tony: Oh, er... did I say the 8.13, I meant the 7.58 stopping train.

Lady Partridge: But the 7.58 stopping train arrived at Swindon at 8.19 owing to annual point maintenance at Wisborough Junction.

John: So how did you make the connection with the 8.I3 which left six minutes earlier?

Tony: Oh, er, simple! I caught the 7.16 Football Special arriving at Swindon at 8.09.

Jasmina: But the 7.16 Football Special only stops at Swindon on alternate Saturdays.

Lady Partridge: Yes, surely you mean the Holidaymaker Special.

Tony: Oh, yes! How daft of me. Of course I came on the Holidaymaker Spedal calling at Bedford, Colmworth, Fen Dinon, Sutton, Wallington and Gillingham.

Inspector:' That's Sundays only!

Tony: Damn. All fight, I confess I did it. I killed him for his reservation, but you won't take me alive! I'm going to throw myself under the 10.12 from Reading.

John: Don't be a fool, Tony, don't do it, the 10.12 has the new narrow traction bogies, you wouldn't stand a chance.

Tony: Exactly.

(Tableau. Loud chord and slow curtain.)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 7:57 PM

Voice Over: That was an excerpt from the latest West End hit 'It all happened on the 11.20 from Hainault to Redhill via Horsham and Reigate, calling at Carshalton Beeches, Malmesbury, Tooting Bec, and Croydon West'. The author is Mr Neville Shunt.
(Shunt sitting among mass of railway junk, at typewriter, typing away madly.)

Shunt: (typing) Chuff, chuff, chuffwoooooch, woooooch! Sssssssss, sssssssss! Diddledum, diddledum, diddlealum. Toot, toot. The train now standing at platform eight, tch, tch, tch, diddledum, diddledum. Chuffff chuffffiTff eeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa Vooooommmmm.

(Cut to an critic. Superimposed caption: 'GAVIN MILLARRRRRRRRRR')

Art Critic: Some people have made the mistake of seeing Shunt's work as a load of rubbish about railway timetables, but clever people like me, who talk loudly in restaurants, see this as a deliberate ambiguity, a plea for understanding in a mechanized world. The points are frozen, the beast is dead. What is the difference? What indeed is the point? The point is frozen, the beast is late out of Paddington. The point is taken. If La Fontaine's elk would spurn Tom Jones the engine must be our head, the dining car our oesophagus, the guard's van our left lung, the cattle truck our shins, the first-class compartment the piece of skin at the nape of the neck and the level crossing an electric elk called Simon. The clarity is devastating. But where is the ambiguity? It's over there in a box. Shunt is saying the 8.15 from Gillingham when in reality he means the 8.13 from Gillingham. The train is the same only the time is altered. Ecce homo, ergo elk. La Fontaine knew his sister and knew her bloody well. The point is taken, the beast is moulting, the fluff gets up your nose. The illusion is complete; it is reality, the reality is illusion and the ambiguity is the only truth. But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. The point is taken, the elk is dead, the beast stops at Swindon, Chabrol stops at nothing, I'm having treatment and La Fontaine can get knotted.

( Cut to man at desk.)

Man: Gavin Millar...

(Cut to another man.)

Another Man: ... rrrrrrr...

(Cut to first man.)

Man: ... was not talking to Neville Shunt. From the world of the theatre we turn to the world of dental hygiene. No, no, no, no. From the world of the theatre we mru to the silver screen. We honour one of the silver screen's outstanding writer-dentists... writer-directors, Martin Curry who is visiting London to have a tooth out, for the pre-molar, er... premiere of his filling, film next Toothday... Tuesday, at the Dental Theatre... Film Theatre. Martin Curry talking to Matthew Palate... Padget.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 7:59 PM

(Cut to late-night line-up setting. Interviewer and interviewee.)
Padget: Martin Curry, welcome. One of the big teeth... big points that the American critics made about your latest film, 'The Twelve Caesars', was that it was on so all-embracing a topic. What made you undertake so enormous a tusk... task?

(We now see that his interviewee has two enormous front teeth.)

Curry: Well I've always been interested in Imperial Rome from Julius Caesar right through to Vethpathian.

Padget: Who?

Curry: Vethpathian.

Padget: Ah! Vespasian.

Curry: Yes.

Padget: When I saw your film it did seem to me that you had taken a rather, urn, subjective approach to it.

Curry: I'm sorry?

Padget: Well, I mean all your main characters had these enormous ... well not enormous, these very big ... well let's have a look at a clip in which Julius Incisor .... Caesar talks to his generals during the baffle against Caractacus.

Curry: I don't see that at all.

(Film: interior of a tent; generals around a table.)

Labienus: (with relatively enormous front teeth) Shall I order the cavalry that they may hide themselves in the wood, O Caesar?

All: (with very large front teeth) Thus O Caesar.

Julius: (with amazingly large front teeth) Today is about to be a triumph for our native country.

(Back to interview set.)

Padget: Martin Curry, why do all your characters have these very big er ... very big um ... teeth?

Curry: What do you mean?

Padget: Well, I mean, er... and even in your biblical epic, 'The Son of Man', John the Baptist had the most enormous ... dental appendages ... and of course ... himself had the most monumental ivories.

Curry: No, I'm afraid I don't see that at all. (picks up glass of water but can't get it to his mouth) Could I have a straw?

Padget: Oh, a straw, yes, yes. Well while we're doing that perhaps we could take another look at an earlier film, 'Trafalgar'.

(Between decks. Nelson lying among others. They all have enormous teeth.)

Nelson: Cover my coat, Mr Bush, the men must not know of this till victory is ours.

Toad: The surgeon's coming, sir.

Nelson: No, tell the surgeon to attend the men that can be saved. He can do little for me, I fear.

Toad: Aye, aye, sir.

Nelson: Hardy! Hardy!

Hardy: Sir?

Nelson: Put your hand on my thigh.

(Back to interview set. Curry is sitting practically upside down, trying to drink water with much difficulty)

Padget: Martin Curry, thank you. Well. We asked the first-night audience what they thought of that film.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 8:01 PM

Man With Enormous Ears: It wasn't true to life.

Man With Enormous Teeth: Yes it was.

Man With Enormous Nose: No it wasn't.

Madly Dressed Man: I thought it was totally bizarre.

First City Gent: Well I've been in the city for over forty years and I think the importance of looking after poor people cannot be understressed.

Second City Gent: Well I've been in the city for twenty years and I must admit - I'm lost.

An Old Gramophone: Well, I've been in the city all my life and I'm as alert and active as I've ever been.

Third City Gent: Well I've been in the city since I was two and I certainly' wouldn't say that I was stuck in a rut... stuck in a rut ... stuck in a rut... stuck in a rut...

Woman: Oh dear, Mr Bulstrode's stuck again.

(She runs over and gives him a shove.)

Third City Gent: I certainly wouldn't say that I was stuck in a rut.

Fourth City Gent: Well l've been in the city for thirty years and I've never once regretted being a nasty, greedy, cold hearted, avaricious, money-grubber ... Conservative.

Fifth City Gent: Well I've been in the city for twenty-seven years and I would like to see the reintroduction of flogging. Every Thursday, round at my place.

Man: (whose head only is visible above the level of the sea) Well I've been in the sea for thirty-three years and I've never regretted it.

(Camera pulls back to reveal other city gents also with only heads and bowlers visible who say 'quite agree'. Camera pulls back further to reveal an elderly couple sitting in deckchairs.)

Man: I think it must be a naturalist outing.

Woman: I think it must be one of them crackpot religions.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 8:06 PM

Cut to Arthur Crackpot sitting at a large curved desk on the front of which a sign says 'Crackpot Religions Ltd.' Arthur Crackpot President and God (Ltd)'.
Crackpot: This is an example of the sort of abuse we get all the time from ignorant people. I inherited this religion from my father, an ex-used-car salesman and part-time window-box, and I am very proud to be in charge of the first religion with free gifts. You get this luxury tea-trolley with every new enrolment. (pictures of this and the subsequent gifts) In addition to this you can win a three-piece lounge suite, this luxury caravan, a weekend for two with Peter Bonetti and tonighes star prize, the entire Norwich City Council.

(Curtains go up to reveal the council. Terrific 'ooh' from an audience. Bad organ chords played by a nude man).

Crackpot: And remember with only eight scoring draws you can win a bishopric in a see of your own choice. You see we have a much more' modern approach to religion.

(Cut to a person in church. They are walkning past a pillar. They take out some money and put it in a collecting box. A sign on the box says 'For the rich'. We hear the money going in, then it moves off, along pipes, falling down; eventually it tomes down a small pipe and lands with a tinkle in Crackpot's ashtray. Ht tries the money with his teeth, pops it into his pocket, and finishes reading...)

Crackpot: Blessed is Arthur Crackpot and all his subsidiaries Ltd. You see, in our Church we have a lot more fun.

Priest: (We see he has a woman with him) Oh, Mrs Collins, you did say you were nervious, didn't you? You have eyes on the coffee machine?

Mrs Collins: I don't mind, I don't mind - it's just nice to be here, Reverend.

Priest: (slaps her) Archdeacon! You asked for the coffee machine ... so lets see what you've won? You chose Hymn no. 437. (goes to hymn board, removes one of the numbers, and reads what's on the back) Oh, Mrs Collins, you had eyes on the coffee machine. Well you have won tonight's star prize: the entire 'Norwich City Council.

(Organ music, oohs and applause from audience.)

Mrs Collins: I've got one already. (the priest starts to throttle her)

(Cut back to Crackpot in his Office.)

Crackpot: A lot of religions - no names no pack drill - do go for the poorer type of person - face it, there's more of 'em - poor people, thieves, villains, poor people without no money at all - well we don't have none of that tat. Rich people and crumpet over sixteen can enter free: upper middle class quite welcome; lower middle class not under five grand a year. Lower class - I can't touch it. There's no return on it, you see.

(Pull back to show interviewer sitting at his side.)

Interviewer: Do you have any difficulty converting people?

Crackpot: Oh no, well we have ways of making them join.

(Cut to a photo of a bishops)
(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: "THE BISHOP OF DULWICH')

Crackpot's Voice: Norman there does a lot of converting: a lot of protection, that son of thing. And there's his mate, Bruce Beer.

(Photo of Aussie bishop with beer can)
SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: (THE ARCHBISHOP OF AUSTRALIA')

Crackpot's Voice: Brucie has personally converted ninety-two people twenty-five inside the distance. Then again we're not afraid to use more modern methods.

(Cut to 'Daily Mirror' type pin-up of a bikinied lovely in a silly pose, on a beach with a bishop's mitre and Bible. A large headline reads: 'North See Gas'. A subheading says 'Bishop Sarah', then below that, this blurb which is also read voice over.)

Voice Over: Sarah, today's diocesan lovely is enough to make any chap. go down on his knees. This twenty-three-year-old bishop hails appropriately enough from Bishop's Stortford and lists her hobbies as swimming, riding, and film producers. What a gas! Bet she's no novice when it comes to converting all in her See.

(Cut to Gumby in street.)
(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'ARCHBISHOP GUMBY')

Gumby: (shouting laboriously) Basically, I believe in peace and bashing two bricks together. (he bashes two bricks together)

(Cut to John Lennon)

Lennon: I'm starting a war for peace.

(Cut to Ken Shabby.)
(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'ARCHBISHOP SHABBY')

Shabby: Cor blimey. I'm raising polecats for peace.

(Cut to Arthur Nudge.)
(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'ARCHBISHOP NUDGE')

Nudge: Peace? I like a peace. Know what I mean? Know what I mean? Say no more. Nudge, nudge.

(Cut to a bishop. A sign on the wall says 'Naughty Religion '.)

Bishop: Our religion is the first Church to cater for the naughty type of person. If you'd like a bit of 1ove-your-neighbour - and who doesn't now and again - then see Vera and Ciceley during the hymns.

(Cut to wide-boy Pope, with small moustache and kipper tie. A sign says: 'No Questions Asked Religion '.)

Bill: In our Church we try to help people to help themselves - to cars, washing machines, lead piping, no questions asked. We are the only Church, apart from the Baptists, to do re-spray jobs.

(Cut to loony with a fright wig and an axe in his head. A sign says: 'The Lunatic Religion '.)

Ali Byan: We the Church of. the Divine Loony believe in the power of prayer to turn the head purple ha, ha, ha.

(Cut to a normal looking priest. A sign says: 'The Most Popular Religion Led'.)

Priest: I would like to come in here for a moment if I may, and disassociate our Church from these frivolous and offensive religions. We are primarily concerned with what is best... (phone rings; he answers it) Hello. Oh, well how about Allied Breweries? All ri'ght. but keep the Rio Tinto (puts phone down) ... for the human soul.

( ANIMATION: a vicar by Terry Gilliam)
(CAPTION: 'CARTOON RELIGIONS LTD')

Voice: In our Church we believe first and foremost in you. (use smiles; the top of his head comes off and the Devil tries to climb out; the vicar replaces his head) We want you to think of us as your friend. (as before; the vicar nails the top of his head on)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 8:11 PM

Cut to a wide-angle shot of hedgerows, fields and trees. Voice Over (John Cleese): In this picture there are forty people. None of them can be seen. In this film we hope to show you how not to be seen.
(Caption on screen: 'HM GOVERNMENT, PUBLIC SERVICE FILM NO. 42 PARA 6. "HOW NOT TO BE SEEN"')

Voice Over: In this film we hope to show how not to be seen. This is Mr. E.R. Bradshaw of Napier Court, Black Lion Road London SE5. He can not be seen. Now I am going to ask him to stand up. Mr. Bradshaw will you stand up please

In the distance Mr Bradshaw stands up. There is a loud gunshot as Mr Bradshaw is shot in the stomach. He crumples to the ground

Voice Over: This demonstrates the value of not being seen.

Cut to another location - an empty area of scrub land

Voice Over: In this picture we cannot see Mrs. B.J. Smegma of 13, The Crescent, Belmont. Mrs Smegma will you stand up please.

To the right of the area Mrs Smegma stands up. A gunshot rings out, and Mrs. Smegma leaps into the air, and falls to the ground dead. Cut to another area, however this time there is a bush in the middle

Voice Over: This is Mr Nesbitt of Harlow New Town. Mr Nesbit would you stand up please. (after a pause - nothing happens)Mr Nesbitt has learnt the value of not being seen. However he has chosen a very obvious piece of cover.

The bush explodes and you hear a muffled scream. Cut to another scene with three bushes

Voice Over: Mr. E.V. Lambert of Homeleigh, The Burrows, Oswestry, has presented us with a poser. We do not know which bush he is behind, but we can soon find out. (the left-hand bush explodes, then the right-hand bush explodes, and then the middle bush explodes. There is a muffled scream as Mr. Lambert is blown up) Yes it was the middle one.

Cut to a shot of a farmland area with a water butt, a wall, a pile of leaves, a bushy tree, a parked car, and lots of bushes in the distance

Voice Over: Mr Ken Andrews, of Leighton Road, Slough has concealed himself extremely well. He could be almost anywhere. He could be behind the wall, inside the water barrel, beneath a pile of leaves, up in the tree, squatting down behind the car, concealed in a hollow, or crouched behind any one of a hundred bushes. However we happen to know he's in the water barrel.

The water barrel just blows up in a huge explosion. Cut to a panning shot from the beach huts to beach across the sea

Voice Over: Mr. and Mrs. Watson of Ivy Cottage, Worplesdon Road, Hull, chose a very cunning way of not being seen. When we called at their house, we found that they had gone away on two weeks holiday. They had not left any forwarding address, and they had bolted and barred the house to prevent us from getting in. However a neighbour told us where there were.

The camera pans around and stops on a obvious looking hut, which blows up. Cut to a house with a gumby standing out front

Voice Over: And here is the neighbour (he blows up, leaving just his boots. Cut to a shack in the desert) Here is where he lived (shack blows up - cut to a building) And this is where Lord Langdin lived who refused to speak to us (it blows up). so did the gentleman who lived here....(shot of a house - it blows up) and here.....(another building blows up) and of course here.....Spain....(Atomic explosion) the East midlands....(another atomic explosion) China! (insane laughter as we see a Hydrogen bomb go off)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Wednesday, October 18, 2006 8:14 PM

Presenter: Ah, well 'I'm afraid we have to stop the film there, as some of the scenes which followed were of a violent nature which might have proved distressing to some of our viewers. Though not to me, I can tell you. (cut to another camera; the presenter turns to face it,) In Nova Scotia today, Mr Roy Bent of North Walsham in Norfolk became the first man to cross the Atlantic on a tricycle. His tricycle, specially adapted for the crossing, was ninety feet long, with a protective steel hull, three funnels, seventeen first-class cabins and a radar scanner. (A head and shoulders picture of Roy Bent comes up on the screen behind him) Mr Bent is in our Durham studios, which is rather unfortunate as we're all down here in London. And in London I have with me Mr Ludovic Grayson, the man who scored all six goals in Arsenal's 1-0 victory over the Turkish Champions FC Botty.

(pull out to reveal that he is talking to a five-foot-high filing cabinet)
Presenter:: first of all congratulations on the victory.

Mr Grayson: (from inside filing cabinet) Thank you, David.

Presenter: It should send you back to Blighty with a big lead.

Mr Grayson: Oh yes, well we're fairly confident, David.

Presenter: Well at the moment, Ludovic, you're crouching down inside a filing cabinet.

Mr Grayson: Yes that's right, David, I'm trying not to be seen.

Presenter: I see. Is this through fear?

Mr Grayson: Oh no, no, it's common sense really. If they can't see you, they can't get you.

Presenter: Ha, ha, ha, but of course they can still hear you. (the filing cabinet explodes) Ludovic Grayson, thank you very much for coming on the programme tonight. And we end the show with music. And here with their very latest recording 'Yummy, Yummy, Yummy, I've got love in my tummy' Jackie Charlton and the Tonettes.

(Cut to a trendy pop-music set with coloured lights, etc. On the main podium is a large packing crate with a microphone in front of it. The backing vocal is by three more packing crates with microphones. The instrumental group are also in crates. We hear the above mentioned pop song. Roll credits ova; Fade out. Cut to BBC 1 caption.)

Voice Over: For those of you who may have just missed 'Money Python's Flying Circus', here it is again.

(Entire show is recapped in a series of flash clips lasting about twenty seconds.)

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Thursday, October 19, 2006 2:49 PM

Tomorrow is my birthday, I am rather excited

Knitter of Cunning Jayne Hats

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Thursday, October 19, 2006 2:54 PM

Heres an early happy birthday for ya Sabri3l!

------

We're not telling people what to think, we're just trying to show them how.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Saturday, October 21, 2006 2:19 AM

Yeah so I never saw the firefly episode Heart of Gold, and I just finished it......

TA MA DE!!!1!

That scene....with Mal and Nandi...when they kiss *fans self* and he is whispering to her between kisses... I didn't truly understand or participate in the Captain Tightpants appreciation/obsession until then.

Knitter of Cunning Jayne Hats

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:17 PM

(AND NOW FOR ANOTHER EPISODE)

England, 1747
(Sounds of a coach and horses, galloping)

Moore: Stand and deliver!

Coachman: Not on your life (SHOT) ... aagh!

(Girl screams)

Moore: 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 practice every day...well, not absolutely every day, but most days in the week. I expect I must practice, 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 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 the...you see the three trees over there? Well, the one furthest away on the right... (fade)

(Fade up again)

Moore: 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?

Moore: Serrated edges.

Parson: A willow!

Moore: Yes.

Parson: That's nothing like a willow.

Moore: Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven times out of ten, that's the point.

Parson: Never a willow.

Moore: 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.

Squire: Lupins?

Moore: Yes, lupins. Come on, come on.

Parson: What do you mean, lupins?

Moore: Don't try to play for time.

Parson: I'm not, but... the flower lupin?

Moore: Yes, that's right.

Squire: Well we haven't got any lupins.

Girl: Honestly.

Moore: Look, my friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express.

Squire: Damn!

Girl: Oh, here you are.

Moore: In a bunch, in a bunch!

Squire: Sorry.

Moore: 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.

TV Version coninues

Moore: Here we are, I'll be back.

(Moore wheels round and rides off.)

SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'THE END'

(Pull back to reveal 'The End' is on TV in the house of Mrs. Trepidatious.)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:19 PM

(Pull back to to see the inside of the house of Mrs Trepidatious. Another old ratbag enters and sits opposite her.)
Mrs O: Morning, Mrs Trepidatious.

Mrs Trepidatious: Oh, I don't know what's good about it, my right arm's hanging off something awful.

Mrs O: Oh, you want to have that seen to.

Mrs Trepidatious: What, by that Dr Morrison? He's killed more patients than I've had severe boils.

Mrs O: What do the stars say?

Mrs Trepidatious: Well, Petula Clark says burst them early, but David Frost...

Mrs O: No, the stars in the paper, you cloth-eared heap of anteater's catarrh, the zodiacal signs, the horoscopic fates, the astrological portents, the omens, the genethliac prognostications, the mantalogical harbingers, the vaticinal utterances, the premonitory uttering of the mantalogical omens - what do the bleeding stars in the paper predict, forecast, prophesy, foretell, prognosticate...

(A big sheet is lowered with the words on.)

Voice Over: And this is where you at home can join in.

Mrs O: ... forebode, bode, augur, spell, foretoken, (the audience joins in) presage, portend, foreshow, foreshadow, forerun, herald, point to, betoken, indicate!

Mrs Trepidatious: I don't know.

(The sheet is raised again.)

Mrs O: What are you?

Mrs Trepidatious: I'm Nesbitt.

Mrs O: There's not a zodiacal sign called Nesbitt...

Mrs Trepidatious: All right, Derry and Toms.

Mrs O: (surveying paper) Aquarius, Scorpio, Virgo, Derry and Toms. April 29th to March 22nd. Even dates only.

Mrs Trepidatious: Well what does it presage?

Mrs O: You have green, scaly skin, and a soft yellow underbelly with a series of fin-like ridges running down your spine and tail. Although lizard like in shape, you can grow anything up to thirty feet in length with huge teeth that can bite off great rocks and trees. You inhabit arid sub-tropical zones and wear spectacles.

Mrs Trepidatious: It's very good about the spectacles.

Mrs O: It's amazing.

Mrs Trepidatious: Mm ... what's yours, Irene?

Mrs O: Basil.

Mrs Trepidatious: I'm sorry, what's yours, Basil?

Mrs O: No. That's my star sign, Basil...

Mrs Trepidatious: There isn't a...

Mrs O: Yes there is ... Aquarius, Sagittarius, Derry and Toms, Basil. June 21st to June 22nd.

Mrs Trepidatious: Well, what does it say?

Mrs O: You have green, scaly skin and a series of yellow underbellies running down your spine and tail ...

Mrs Trepidatious: That's exactly the same!

Mrs O: Try number one ... what's Aquarius?

Mrs Trepidatious: It's a zodiacal sign.

Mrs O: I know that, what does it say in the paper Mrs Flan-and-pickle?

Mrs Trepidatious: All right... Oh! It says, 'a wonderful day ahead'. You will be surrounded by family and friends. Roger Moore will drop in for lunch, bringing Tony Curtis with him. In the afternoon a substantial cash sum will come your way. In the evening Petula Clark will visit your home accompanied by Mike Samrues singers. She will sing for you in your own living room. Before you go to bed, Peter Wyngarde will come and declare his undying love for you.

Mrs O: Urghhl What's Scorpio?

Mrs Trepidatious: Oh, that's very good. 'You will have lunch with a schoolfriend of Duane Eddy's, who will insist on whistling some of Duane's greatest instrumental hits. In the afternoon you will die, you will be buried...'

(A doctor is lowered on a wire. The sketch continues into the 'Doctor' Sketch)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:20 PM

Doctor: Good morning.

Mrs O: Oh, morning, doctor.

Doctor: How's the old arm this morning, Mrs Ikon?

Mrs Trepidatious: Oh, it's still hanging off at the shoulder.

Doctor: Good, well lees have a look at it, shall we? (he tries unsuccessfully to open his bag) Oh damn, damn, damn, damn... damn this wretched bag... oh the wretched, damn, bloody, little bag. It's the one thing I hate about being a doctor - it's this wretched bloody little bag!

(He smashes a chair over it and finally produces a revolver and shoots the lock off. It opens and is stuffed full of pound notes, Some of which spill out. He feels inside... eventually pulls out a stethoscope.)

Doctor: What's that doing here? (he throws it away)

(Cut to another doctor walking along a street. The stethoscope flies out of window and lands on him.)

Second Doctor: (brushing it off) Eurgggh!

(Cut back to the first doctor still rummaging in black bag. Eventually, he produces a pair of black kid gloves and a black handkerchief. He folds it and puts it on and points the gun at Mrs Trepidatious.)

Doctor: Hand over the money. (she goes to a sideboard opens the bottom drawer and gets out a money box which she gives to him) Come on, all of it! (she look scared; he jabs the gun at her; she goes over to a painting of a wall-safe on the wall and pushes it aside to reveal an identical wall-safe underneath. She opens it and a hand comes out holding a money box; she takes and gives it to the donor) Yes, that seems to be OK. Right! I'll just test your reflexes! (he opens his mac like a flasher; they scream and jump) Right, now then, everything seems to be OK, I'll see you next week. Keep collecting the pensions, and try not to spend too much on food. (he starts to go up)

Mrs Trepidatious: Thank you, doctor. (he disappears)

(Cut to a hospital ward. A man in bed, a chair with his clothes on it at fie foot of the bed. A doctor enters and goes right for the jacket and starts to feel in the pockets.)

Third Doctor: Morning, Mr Hemon ... How are we today?

Henson: Not too bad, doctor.

Third Doctor: OK, take it easy ... (he empties his wallet and puts it back) Expecting any postal orders this week?

Henson: No.

Third Doctor: Right-o.

(A nurse comes and gets the loose change. The doctor goes to the next bed where there is a man entirely in traction.)

Third Doctor: Ah, Mr Rodgets, have you got your unemployment benefit please? Right. Well can you write me a cheque then... please?

(The patient writes him a cheque. He goes to the foot of the bed. There is a graph with a money symbol on it. He marks it down further.)

Third Doctor: Thank you very much. Soon have you down to nothing. Ah, Mr Millichope. (he smiles and leaves, passing a man with a saline drip full of coins; chink of money)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:22 PM

(A TV debate set-up. Stern music starts as the lights come on.)
SUPERIMPOSED CAPTIONS:
'THE GREAT DEBATE'
'NUMBER 31'
'TV4 OR NOT TV4?'

Kennedy: Hello. Should there be another television channel, or should there not? On tonight's programme the Minister for Broadcasting, The Right Honourable Mr Ian Throat MP.

Throat: Good evening.

Kennedy: The Chairman of the Amalgamated Money 'IV, Sir Abe Sappenheim.

Sappenheim: Good evening.

Kennedy: The Shadow Spokesman for Television, Lord Kinwoodie.

Kinwoodie: Hello.

Kennedy: And a television critic, Mr Patrick Loone.

Loone: Hello.

Kennedy: Gentlemen - should there be a fourth television channel or not? Ian?

Throat: Yes.

Kennedy: Francis.

Kinwoodie: No.

Kennedy: Sir Abe?

Sappenheim: Yes.

Kennedy: Patrick.

Loone: No.

SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'YES 2 NO 2'

Kennedy: Well there you have it. Two say will, two say won't. We'll be back again next week, and next week's 'Great Debate' will be about Government Interference in Broadcasting and will be cancelled mysteriously.

(The lights fade down. Music.)

SUPERIMPOSED ROLLER CAPTION:
'THE GREAT DEBATE
INTRODUCED BY LUDOVIC LUDOVIC
WITH SIR ABE SAPPENHEIM
IAN THROAT MP
LORD KINWOODIE
MR PATRICK LOONE'

(Behind this the pond members are seen gesticulating strangely in silhouette. Fade out.)

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:24 PM

(Fade up on a picture of Queen Victoria)
Voice Over: Just starting on BBC 1 now, 'Victoria Regina' the inspiring tale of the simple crofter's daughter who worked her way up to become Queen of England and Empress of the Greatest Empire television has ever seen. On BBC 2 now Episode 3 of 'George I' the new 116 part serial about the famous English King who hasn't been done yet. On ITV now the (sound of a punch) Ugh!

(Music starts. Picture of Royal crest.)

SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'GEORGE I'

(The word 'Charles' below the crest has been crossed out and 'George I' written above it.)

CAPTION: 'EPISODE 3 ' THE GATHERING STORM'

(This looks very dog-cared and thumb-printed. Cut to studio set of an eighteenth-century ballroom. Some dancing is going on. A fop is talking to two ladies in the usual phony mouthing manner. They laugh meaninglessly.)

Grantley: Ah! 'Tis my lord of Buckingham. Pray welcome, Your Grace.

Buckingham: Thank you, Grantley.

Grantley: Ladies, may I introduce to you the man who prophesied that a German monarch would soon embroil this country in continental affairs.

First Lady: Oh, how so, my lord?

Buckingham: Madam, you will recall that prior to his accession our gracious sovereign George had become involved in the long standing Northern War, through his claims to Bremen and Verdun. These duchies would provide an outlet to the sea of the utmost value to Hanover. The Treaty of Westphalia has assigned them to Sweden.

Grantley: In 1648.

Buckingham: Exactly.

Grantley: Meanwhile Frederick William of Denmark, taking advantage of the absence of Charles XII, seized them; 1712.

Second Lady: Oh yes!

First Lady: It all falls into place. More wine?

Grantley: Oh, thank you.

Buckingham: However, just prior to his accession, George had made an alliance with Frederick William of Prussia, on the grounds of party feeling.

Grantley: While Frederick William had married George's only daughter.

First Lady: I remember the wedding.

Buckingham: But chiefly through concern at the concerted action against Charles XII...

(There is a crash as Moore swings through the window on a rope. Everyone gasps and screams. He lands spectacularly.)

Moore: Stand and deliver.

All: Dennis Moore!

Moore: The same. And now my lords, my ladies ... your lupins, please.

(General bewilderment and consternation.)

Buckingham: Our what?

Moore: Oh, come come, don't play games with me my Lord of Buckingham.

Buckingham: What can you mean?

Moore: (putting pistol to his head) Your life or your lupins, my lord.

(Buckingham and the rest of the gathering now produce lupins which they have secreted about their several persons. They offer them to Moore.)

Moore: In a bunch, in a bunch. (they arrange them in a bunch) Thank you my friends, and now a good evening to you all.

(He grabs the rope, is hauled into air and disappears out of the window. There is a bump, a whinny and the sound of galloping hooves. The guests rush to the window to watch him disappear.)

Grantley: He seeks them here ... he seeks them there ... he seeks those lupins everywhere. The murdering blackguard! He's taken all our lupins.

First Lady: (produring one from her garter) Not quite.

(Gasps of delight.)

Buckingham: Oh you tricked him!

Man: We still have one! (they all cheer)

(Cut to a similar montage as before of Moore galloping through forest, clearings and tiny villages. Song as follows.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Riding through the night.
Soon every lupin in the land
Will be in his mighty hand
He steals them from the rich
And gives them to the poor
Mr Moore, Mr Moore, Mr Moore.

(Towards the end of this he arrives at the same peasant's cottage as before, dismounts and runs to the cottage door. He pauses. From inside the cottage we hear quiet moaning. Cut to inside the cottage. In this rude hut, lit by a single candle, the female peasant lies apparently dying on a bunk. Lupins are everywhere, in the fire, on the bed, a large pile of them forms a pillow. The female peasant is moaning and the male peasant is kneeling beside her offering her a lupin. Moore enters slowly.)

Male Peasant: (dressed largely in a lupin suit) Try and eat some, my dear. It'll give you strength. (Dennis Moore reverently approaches the bed; the male peasant looks round and sees him) Oh Mr Moore, Mr Moore, she's going fast.

Moore: Don't worry, I've... I've brought you something.

Male Peasant: Medicine at last?

Moore: No.

Male Peasant: Food?

Moore: No.

Male Peasant: Some blankets perhaps... clothes... wood for the fire...

Moore: No. Lupins!

Male Peasant: (exploding) Oh Christ!

Moore: (astonished) I thought you liked them.

Male Peasant: I'm sick to bloody death of them.

Female Peasant: So am I.

Male Peasant: She's bloody dying and all you bring us is lupins. All we've eaten mate for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sauted lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin. sorbet... we sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we burn lupins, we even wear the bloody things!

Moore: Looks very smart.

Male Peasant: Oh shut up! We're sick to death with the stench of them. (sound of a meow and then a bump) Look. The cat's just choked itself to death on them. (we see a dead cat with lupins coming out of its mouth) I don't care if I never see another lupin till the day I die! Why don't you go out and steal something useful!

Moore: Like what?

Male Peasant: Like gold and silver and clothes and wood and jewels and...

Moore: Hang on, I'll get a piece of paper.

(Cut to a montage of shots of Moore riding away from the hut over which we hear the song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Dumdum alum the night.
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Dun de dun dum plight.
He steals dumdum dun
And dumdum dum dee
Dennis dun, Dennis dee, dum dun dum.

(Cut back to the ballroom to find the same people discussing British history.)

Buckingham: This, coupled with the presence of Peter and his Prussians at Mecklenburg and Charles and his Swedes in Pomerania, made George and Stanhope eager to come to terms with France.

Grantley: Meanwhile, a breach had now opened with...

(Moore swings in as before.)

Grantley: Oh no, not again.

Buckingham: Come on.

Moore: Stand and deliver again! Your money, your jewellery, your ... hang on. (he takes out a list) Your clothes, your snuff, your ornaments, your glasswear, your pussy cats...

Buckingham: (aside to the first lady) Don't say anything about the lupins...

Moore: Your watches, your lace, your spittoons...

(Cut to a montage pretty much as before but with Moore riding through the glades dragging behind him a really enormous bag marked with 'swag' in very olde English lettering. This bag is about twenty feet long and bumps along the ground behind the home with the appropriate sound effects to make it sound full of valuable jewels, gold, silver, etc. Song as follows.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Riding through the woods.
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
With a bag of things.
He gives to the poor and he takes from the rich
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore.

(As he arrives at the poor peasant's cottage they run out. They all open the bag together to the peasants enormous and immeasurable joy.)

Moore: Here we are.

Imposed caption: THE END

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:26 PM

(Cut to stock film of people queuing at an exhibition hall.)
Voice Over: Well it may be the end of that, but it's certainly far from the end of- well in fact it's the beginning - well not quite the beginning - well certainly nearer the beginning than the end - well yes damn it, it is to all interns and purposes the beginning of this year's Ideal Loon Exhibition, sponsored by the 'Daily Express'. (cut to interior of hall, people pouring through the doors; above their head~ it says 'ideal Loon Exhibition) Numbskulls and boobies from all over the country have been arriving to go through their strange paces before a large paying crowd. This is the fifteenth Ideal Loon Exhibition and we took a good look round after it was opened by its patron ... (quick flash Edward Heath opening something) There's Kevin Bruce the digger duffer from down-under, who's ranked fourteenth in the world's silly positions league... (Kevin is in a roped-off exhibition area; with a number in front of him; people are walking past looking at him with programmes; he is dressed in Australian bush gear and he is leaning his forehead against a goldfish bowl on a four-foot-six plinth) This kind of incoherent behaviour is really beginning to catch on down-under. There's Norman Kirby from New Zealand, whose speciality is standing behind a screen with a lady with no clothes on ... (again in an exhibition stand with a number in front; there is a screen which is higher than their heads, but it is cut off at knee height so you can see two pairs of legs, one female, totally bare, one male wearing some enormous boots, no socks) In real life, Norman is a gynaecologist, but this is his lunch hour. And from France there's a superb exhibition of rather silly behaviour by the Friends of the Free French Osteopaths. (on the stand five men dressed in Breton berets, striped French shim, silly moustaches, with baguettes; in unison they make the silly sign, counting the while 'un, deux, trois) They do this over four hundred times a day. Nobody knows why. But for sheer poindess behaviour you've got to admire Brian Broomers, the batfling British boy who for two weeks has been suspended over a tin of condemned veal. (quite a crowd watch this; again a roped-off exhibit, Brian is suspended from the ceiling by two car tyres; he lies there smoking a pipe; underneath him there is a small opened tin, with 'veal' on the side) Always popular with the crowd, is the Scotsman with Nae Trews exhibit, and this year's no exception. (a very large man dressed as a Scotsman in front of a sign saying 'Scotsman with Nae Trews Exhibit, Sponsored by Natural Gas'; an enormously long line of middle-aged pepperpots stand waiting in a queue; each in turn lifts up a comer of Scotsman's kilt, has a tiny peek and walks off) Sponsored by Natural Gas and Glasgow City Council, this exhibit is entirely supported by voluntary contributions. But for a truly magnificent waste of time you've got to go no further than the exhibit from Italy - Italian priests in custard, discussing vital matters of the day. (four Italian priests standing up to their chests in a large vat of custard; in front of them it sqs 'Italian Priests in custard'; they are animatedly discussing vital matters; hung behind them is a sign saying 'Italy, Land of Custard) These lads from a seminary near Cremona, have been practising for well over a year. As always one of the great attractions of this fourteen-day exhibition is the display of counter-marching given by the Massed Pipes and Toilet Requisites of the Colwyn Bay Massed Pipes and Toilet Requisites Club. (a dozen people in blazers, flannels and white pumps are vigorously counter-marching, whilst Souza's Star Spangled Banner blares out; they are holding various items of plumbing, lengths of piping, a toilet, a bidet, a bath, back scrubbers, loofahs, shower attachments, hand basins, etc.) An interesting point about these boys is they all have one thing in common. Hip injuries. Not far away the crowds are flocking to see a member of the famous Royal Canadian Mounted Geese. (cut to pantomime goose on horseback) But the climax of the whole event is the judging.

(Cut to a sort of Miss World cat-walk. A judge appears (holding number 41. A band plays 'A pretty girl is like a melody'.)

PA Announcement: Mr Justice Burke. (the judge walks down, turns slightly at the edge of the stage, puts a knee forward and makes a cheesecake smile) Well that's the last, and let's just see those last six once again. (the judge on the stage is joined by five others in full judicial robes, with wigs, each holding a number) And the winner is - number 41, Mr Justice Burke.

(The winner reacts by bursting into tears. The others look rather sad. Cut to a still picture of Mr Justice Burke in bed having breakfast the next morning. He is still wearing his robes and wig but he has a sceptre and a terrible tiara crown on. This picture is in black and white and is large on the front page of a newspaper. The headline is Justice seen to be done'. A subheading says 'British Justice Triumphs

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, October 23, 2006 7:28 PM

(Cut to close up of a man's face.)
McGough: Yet fear, not like an aged florin, can so disseminate men's eyes, that fortune, straining at a kissing touch may stop her ceaseless search to sport amidst the rampant thrust of time, and bring the thing undone to pass by that with which the cock may chance an arm.

(Cut to a wider shot to show that he is in an off-licence. Mr Bones is behind the counter.)

Mr Bones: Well that's all very well, sir, but this is an off-licence.

McGough: Oh. Just a bottle of sherry then, please.

Mr Bones: Certainly... Amontillado?

McGough: Yes, I think Amonfillado, finely grown ... well chosen from the casque of Pluto's hills, cell'd deep within the vinous soil of Spain, wrench'd thence from fiery regions of the sun...

Mr Bones: Yes, yes sir. Just one bottle?

McGough: Just one bottle. Just one jot. Just one tittle. That's the lot.

Mr Bones: There we are, sir. That'll be a pound, please.

McGough: A pound a pound and all around abound A pound found, found Lost lost the cost till was't embossed...

Mr Bones: Excuse me, sir.

McGough: Yes, good victualler, nature's trencherman, mine honest tapster...

Mr Bones: I was just wondering. Are you a poet?

McGough: No, no, I'm a solicitor... well versed within the written law of man, can m those who need...

Mr Bones: Oh' shut up.

McGough: I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've caught poetry.

Mr Bones: Oh really? Well, don't worry, sir - I used to suffer from short stories.

McGough: Really? When?

Mr Bones: Oh, once upon a time ... there' lived in Wiltshire a young Chap called Dennis Moore. Now Dennis was a highwayman by profession ... (we ripple through to Dennis Moore riding along with a big bag of swag) ... and for several months he had been stealing from the rich to give to the poor. One day...

(Mix through to a shot of Dennis Moore arriving with another bag of goodies. The peasants who greet him are by now very smartly dressed and the cottage has been refurbished.)

Moore: Here we are again, Mr Jenkins. (Dennis leaves the bag and wheels his horse around) There we are... I'll be back. (he rides off again purposefuly)

(Cut to ballroom, in fact it is the same one featured in 'Dennis Moore Rides Again'. The walls are bare and the people are down to their undergarments. They sit around the table gnawing pieces of bread and dipping them in a watery soup. The central bowl of soup contains a lupin.)

Buckingham: Meanwhile Frederick William bushy engaged in defending against the three great powers the province of Silesia...

Grantley: ... which he had seized in the War of the Austrian succession against his word.

First Lady: Yes, I remember.

Man: ... was now dependent on Pitt's subsidies.

(Moore swings in through the window. They all respond to him with listless moans of disappointment.)

Moore: My lords, my ladies, on your feet, please. (he is ignored and therefore says commandingly) I must ask you to do exactly as I say or I shall be forced to shoot you fight between the eyes. (they stand up hurriedly) Well not right between the eyes, I mean when I say between the eyes, obviously I don't have to be that accurate, I mean, if I hit you in that son of area, like that, obviously, that's all right for me, I mean, I don't have to try and son of hit a point bisecting a line drawn between your pupils or anything like that. I mean, from my point of view, it's perfectly satisfactory...

First Lady: What do you want? Why are you here?

Moore: Why are any of us here? I mean, when you get down to it, it's all so meaningless, isn't it, I mean what do any of us want...

Buckingham: No, no, what do you want now?

Moore: Oh I see, oh just the usual things, a little place of my own, the fight girl...

Grantley: No, no, no! What do you want from us?

Moore: Oh sorry. Urn, your gold, your silver, your jewellery.

Buckingham: You've taken it all.

First Lady: This is all we've got left.

Moore: That's nice. I'll have them. Come on. (he takes all the spoons)

Buckingham: You'd better take the bloody lupin too.

Moore: Thank you very much, I've gone through that stage. (he grabs the rope and swings out again)

(Short montage of Dennis riding accompanied by the song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
Etcetera, etcetera...

(He leaps off his home and runs to the door of the hut, throws the door open and enters. The little hut is now stuffed with all possible signs of wealth and all imaginable treasures.)

Male Peasant: What you got for us today then.

Moore: Well I've managed to find you four very nice silver spoons Mr Jenkins.

Male Peasant: (snatching them rudly) Who do you think you are giving us poor this rubbish?

Female Peasant: Bloody silver. Won't have it in the house. (throws it away) And those candlesticks you got us last week were only sixteen carat.

Male Peasant: Yes, why don't you go out and steal something nice like some Venetian silver.

Female Peasant: Or a Velasquez for the outside loo.

Moore: Oh all right. (turns purposefully)

(Usual montage of Dennis Moore riding plus song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
giding through the land
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
Without a merry band
He steals from the poor. and gives to the rich
Stupid bitch.

(Dennis Moore reins to sudden halt and rides over to camera.)

Moore: What did you sing?

Singers: (speaking) We sang... he steals from the poor and gives to the rich.

Moore: Wait a tic ... blimey, this redistribution of wealth is trickier than I thought.

(Women's institute applause.)

What do you make of the nylon dot cardigan and plastic mule rest?

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Thursday, October 26, 2006 10:23 AM

Knitter of Cunning Jayne Hats

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Saturday, October 28, 2006 6:44 AM

Awww I thought it was funny

Knitter of Cunning Jayne Hats

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Saturday, October 28, 2006 6:53 AM

PENGUIN

King of the Mythical Land that is Iowa

NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Saturday, October 28, 2006 8:02 AM

MSG

Penguin...this is for you

I choose to rise instead of fall- U2

NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Saturday, October 28, 2006 8:08 AM

PENGUIN

King of the Mythical Land that is Iowa

NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Saturday, October 28, 2006 8:08 AM

MSG

And for Halloween/Samhain

I choose to rise instead of fall- U2

NOTIFY: N | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Sunday, November 5, 2006 8:45 AM

Quote:
Originally posted by Sabri3l:

HAHA!! That one had me giggling Sabri3l!

---------
Love keeps her in the air when she outta fall down, tells you she's hurting before she keels. Makes her a home.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Sunday, November 5, 2006 2:55 PM

RMMC

*******
RMMC

When we're down, don't frown. Come join the camp-out at serenitymovie.org.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, November 6, 2006 5:41 AM

---------
Love keeps her in the air when she outta fall down, tells you she's hurting before she keels. Makes her a home.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, November 6, 2006 11:30 AM

RMMC

Rubber baby buggy bumpers.

*******
RMMC

When we're down, don't frown. Come join the camp-out at serenitymovie.org.

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Thursday, November 9, 2006 11:44 AM

Quote:
Originally posted by asortafairytale:
Quote:
Originally posted by Sabri3l:

HAHA!! That one had me giggling Sabri3l!

---------
Love keeps her in the air when she outta fall down, tells you she's hurting before she keels. Makes her a home.

]

Knitter of Cunning Jayne Hats

NOTIFY: Y | REPLY | REPLY WITH QUOTE | TOP | HOME

Monday, November 13, 2006 6:33 PM