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Author	Topic: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/13/03 1:29am Subject: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread - Date Edited: 10/4/07 5:28pm (3 edits total) Edited By: Kyptastic
	Caption on screen: 'H.M. GOVERNMENT, PUBLIC SERVICE FILM NO. 42 "HOW NOT TO BE SEEN"' EXT. GRASSY FIELD We open with a WIDE SHOT of a grass-covered plain, with a thick forest in the background. A narrator with a British accent speaks from off-camera. NARRATOR: (JOHN CLEESE) In this picture, there are 47 people. None of them can be seen. In this film, we hope to show you how not to be seen. Another angle of the grassy, hilly field. NARRATOR: This is Mr. E.R. Bradshaw of Napier Court, Black Lion Road, London SE14. He cannot be seen. Now, I am going to ask him to stand up. Mr. Bradshaw, will you stand up please? Beat. Then a MAN gets up from behind a hill in the far distance. BANG!!! The man clutches his stomach and pitches over. NARRATOR: This demonstrates the value of not being seen. EXT. SCRUBLAND We’re now in a wide field of scrubland. NARRATOR: In this picture we cannot see Mrs. B.J. Smegma of 13, The Crescent, Belmont. Mrs. Smegma, will you stand up please? The kindly old lady rises up from the scrubbrush. BANG!!! She’s knocked back to the ground. EXT. ANOTHER FIELD This empty field features a small bush in the near distance. NARRATOR: This is Mr. Nesbitt, of Harlow New Town. Mr. Nesbitt, would you stand up please? A long beat. Mr. Nesbitt remains out of sight. NARRATOR: Mr. Nesbitt has learned the first lesson of not being seen -- not to stand up. However, he has chosen a very obvious piece of cover… The bush EXPLODES in a massive fireball. EXT. YET ANOTHER FIELD This field features three bushes, all side-by-side. NARRATOR: Mr. E.W. Lambert of Homeleigh, The Burrows, Oswestly, has presented us with a poser. We do not know which bush he is behind. But we can soon find out… The left bush EXPLODES. Then the right one. When the center one goes, there is a CHOKED-OFF SCREAM. NARRATOR: (pleased) Yes, it was the middle one. EXT. FARM A beautiful expanse of farmland. Visible is a water barrel, a pile of leaves, a bushy tree, a parked car, and lots of distant bushes. NARRATOR: 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 barrel EXPLODES. EXT. BEACH A WIDE PANNING SHOT of a beautiful summer beach and a wide row of beach huts. NARRATOR: 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 they were. The camera stops on a lone hut near the shore. The hut is BLOWN SKY-HIGH, with a pair of SHORT SCREAMS from a middle-aged man and woman. EXT. STREET A rather dopey-looking man with a Hitler-like mustache, eyeglasses, a shower cap on his head, suspenders over a plaid vest and rolled-up shirt, pants cut off at the knees and a perpetually zoned-out expression (in short, a GUMBY) stands before us. NARRATOR: And here is the neighbour who told us where they were... The Gumby is BLOWN clear out of his boots. NARRATOR: (aside) Nobody likes a clever (CENSORED). EXT. DESERT A ramshackle shack in the midst of an empty desert. NARRATOR: Here is where he lived ... The hut is BLASTED to cinders. EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING (VERY OLD FOOTAGE) A nasty-looking old tenement. NARRATOR: (getting giddy) And this is where he was born... The apartment building DETONATES from below and COLLAPSES upon itself. EXT. WAR ZONE A ruined building in the middle of a burned-out area. NARRATOR: And this is where Lord Langton lived, who refused to speak to us… The building GOES UP IN A CLOUD OF SMOKE. EXT. EXPLOSIONS NARRATOR: (really getting into it) And here….and here….and, of course, here… Various shots of buildings EXPLODING. EXT. NUCLEAR EXPLOSIONS Various shots of fiery mushroom clouds, the type that only come from THERMONUCLEAR BOMBS. NARRATOR: (starting to laugh) And Manchester…and the West Midlands…Spain…China…(mad, hysterical laughter) EXT. FOREST We’re treated to a strange sight – a man in a tuxedo is seated at a newscaster’s desk, laughing hysterically. We realize here that he’s the NARRATOR of the previous piece. He doesn’t notice the camera ZOOMING IN on him. Then, abruptly, he spots it, does a doubletake, and instantly assumes a BORED and STOIC demeanor. NARRATOR: And now for something completely different. The narrator and his desk EXPLODES. -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/13/03 1:33am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	I apologize for the above transcript, but I thought it was a nice way to kick off this thread, a forum for all things Monty. Since Brazil and Fawlty Towers (not to mention other British comedies) were being such hot topics of conversation in the Ampitheatre, how could I resist? So, cue the bedraggled and long-bearded man in the torn-up clothes, along with John Philip Sousa's "Liberty Bell March": (raspy voice) IT'S.... -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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Drew_Atreides Registered: Apr '02	Date Posted: 3/13/03 9:12am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	Aaaah yes, Monty Python... The comedy troupe whom, when my dad introduced me to them back when i was 12, presented me with some of the funniest stuff i have ever seen... I loved Monty Python.. I really really did.. Then i entered University...Every other person thinks they're 'brilliant' by constantly quoting from "The Holy Grail" or "The Life of Brian"..It REAaaaaaaally gets obnoxious.. I still enjoy Monty Python, but not to the degree that i once did.. At one point, i actually wanted to throttle any person who i caught saying "What's the average airspeed of a swallow?" Still, i can tolerate the more obscure stuff (such as "Mr F.G. Superman" and "The International Hide-and-seek championships"..) -----signature----- Don't mess with Tony Jaa's elephants.
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/14/03 1:03am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	Hmm. The more obscure stuff... TITLE -- "STORYTIME" A happy lilting tune fills the air, and animated bunnies hop and dance across an animated field. CUT TO: INT. TV STUDIO A mild-mannered man sits in a room painted in leaves and flowers, holding a storybook in his hands. STORYTELLER: (ERIC IDLE, in a soft and warm voice) Hello, children. Hello. Here is this morning's story. Are you ready? Then we'll begin... He opens the book and reads from it. "One day, Ricky the Magic Pixie went to visit Daisy Bumble in her Tumble-Down Cottage. He found her in the bedroom. Roughly, he grabbed her heavy shoulders, pulling her down onto the bed and ripping off her --" WHAT THE F---?!? The storyteller's eyes go wide, and he quickly flips ahead a few pages. After quickly scanning the first few words, he looks up and smiles. "Old Nick, the sea captain, was a rough, tough, jolly sort of fellow. He loved the life of the sea, and he loved to hang our down by the pier where the...men dressed as LADIES?!?!?" The storyteller's jaw drops. He flips ahead a page and reads it silently. Then another. A stick appears from stage left and prods him back into talking. STORYTELLER: Oh...uh...(laughs nervously) "Rumpletweezer ran the Dinky Tinky shop in the foot of the Magic Oak Tree by the Wobbly Dum-Dum Bush, in the shade of the Magic Glade down in Dingly Dell. There he sold contraceptives an--" The storyteller does yet another double-take. He finishes looking down the page silently and flips to the next one, more shocked by the second. Another page. STORYTELLER: Discipline?...Naked... He turns the book sideways, completely aghast. STORYTELLER: WITH A MELON?!?!? We briefly revisit the animated bunnies in the animated field, then watch as a giant animated hippo enters the scene and jumps on each of the bunnies, squashing them into paste. -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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Jedi Merkurian Title: Games: RPG d20 GM Registered: May '00	Date Posted: 3/14/03 7:10am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	"No one suspects the- Oh, bugger!" -----signature----- Striking down can result in common side effects including fear, anger, aggresion, nausea, dry mouth, hatred, suffering, headaches, IBS, & in some extreme cases has been linked to lava burns Please consult your doctor before striking anyone down
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/14/03 11:57pm Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	Later on in tonight’s transcript: The ultimate reality game show, where contestants show up to LOSE money rather than win it! But first, a sketch about a… VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE COUNSELORRRRR…… (VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE COUNSELLOOORRRR…..) (VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE COUNSELLLOOOORRRRRRR……) INT. GUIDANCE COUNSELOR’S OFFICE – DAY A rather stiff-looking mustachioed man in a pin-striped business suit and bowler hat walks into a nice-looking office. COUNSELOR: (JOHN CLEESE, O.S.) Ah, Mr., uh… Anchovy. Do sit down. Mr. Anchovy (the stiff man) takes off his hat, crosses the office and sits before the counselor. ANCHOVY: (MICHAEL PALIN) Oh, thank you. Take the weight off the feet, eh? COUNSELLOR: Yes, yes. ANCHOVY: Lovely weather for the time of year, I must say. COUNSELLOR: (nods as he looks over a paper) Enough of this gay banter. Now, Mr. Anchovy, you asked us to advise you which job in life you were best suited for. ANCHOVY: That is correct, yes… COUNSELLOR: (picks up another paper) Well, I have here all the results of the interviews and the aptitude tests that you took last week…and from them we’ve built up a pretty clear impression of the sort of person you are. And I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that the ideal job for you is chartered accountancy. Beat. Mr. Anchovy seems a bit perturbed. ANCHOVY: But I am an accountant. COUNSELLOR: (smiles) Jolly good! Well, back to the office with you then… ANCHOVY: No, no, no!! You don’t understand! I’ve been an accountant for the last twenty years! But I want a new job -- something exciting that will let me live!! COUNSELLOR: But accounting is quite exciting, isn’t it? ANCHOVY: Exciting?!? No, it’s not!! It’s dull, dull, dull. My God, it’s so dull! It’s so deadly dull and tedious and stuffy and boring and desperately DULL!! I can’t stand it any longer. I want to live. COUNSELLOR: (looks through a blue folder) Well, yes, er, Mr. Anchovy, but…you see, in your report here…it says that you are an extremely dull person. Um…our experts describe you as “an appallingly dull fellow,” “unimaginative,” “timid,” “lacking in initiative,” “spineless,” “easily dominated,” “no sense of humor,” “tedious company” and “irrepressibly drab and awful.” And whereas in most professions these would be considerable drawbacks, in accountancy they are a positive boon. ANCHOVY: But you see, I’m only as awful as this because accountancy does this to people!! I came here to find a new job, a new life, a… new meaning to my existence! Can’t you help me?? COUNSELLOR: (takes a deep breath, considering) Well, do you have any idea of what you want to be? ANCHOVY: Yes! Yes I have! COUNSELLOR: What is it? ANCHOVY: (dramatically) A LION TAMER!! Beat. COUNSELLOR: Well….yes. Yes. Of course, it’s a bit of a jump, isn’t it? I mean, er, accountancy to lion taming in one go? You don’t think it’d be better to work your way towards lion taming? Say, via banking? Or insurance? ANCHOVY: NO! No no no! I don’t want to wait! No, I want to start immediately! At nine ‘o clock tomorrow I want to be in there, taming! Mr. Anchovy is positively giddy over the prospect. The counsellor’s concern deepens. COUNSELLOR: Yes, but you – what qualifications do you have? ANCHOVY: I’ve got a hat! COUNSELLOR: A hat? ANCHOVY: Yes, a lion taming hat. A hat with “Lion Tamer” written on it. I got it at Harrods. And it lights up, saying “Lion Tamer” in great big red neon letters, so that you can tame them after dark when they’re less stroppy. COUNSELLOR: I see, I see… ANCHOVY: And during the day, you switch it off, and you can claim it as reasonable wear and tear as allowable professional expenses under paragraph 335C – COUNSELLOR: Yes, yes, I follow. But you see, the snag is…if I now call Mr. Chipperfield and say to him “Look here, I’ve got a 45-year-old accountant with me who wants to become a lion tamer,” his first question is not going to be “Does he have his own hat?” He’s more likely to ask what sort of experience you’ve had with lions. ANCHOVY: Well, I….I’ve seen ‘em at the zoo… COUNSELLOR: Good, good, good… ANCHOVY: Yeah. Little brown, furry creatures with short stumpy legs and great long noses. I could tame one of those! I don’t know what all the fuss is about, they look pretty tame to start with…(giggles) COUNSELLOR: And these, er, these lions…how high are they? ANCHOVY: Oh, about so high. (indicates about a foot tall) They don’t frighten me at all. COUNSELLOR: (nods) Really. And, uh… do these lions eat ants? ANCHOVY: Yes, that’s right! COUNSELLOR: (nods again. Beat) Well, I’m afraid what you’ve got hold of there, Mr. Anchovy, is an anteater. ANCHOVY: What? COUNSELLOR: An anteater. Not a lion. You see, a lion is a huge savage beast, about 5 feet high, 10 feet long, weighing about 400 pounds, running 40 mph, with masses of sharp pointed teeth and nasty long razor-sharp claws that can rip your belly open before you can say “Eric Robinson,” and they look like this. A quick film clip of a ROARING lion – -- and Mr. Anchovy SCREAMS HIS HEAD OFF. COUNSELLOR: (reaches for the phone) Now, shall I call the circus? ANCHOVY: NO!! Um….I like your idea of making the move, um, to lion taming by easy stages…say, by insurance or, or banking… COUNSELLOR: Banking? ANCHOVY: Banking, yes, banking. I see it now. It’s a man’s life, isn’t it? Travel, excitement, decisions affecting people’s lives, romance, thrills… COUNSELLOR: I’ll put you in touch with the bank. ANCHOVY: Yes, uh, uh…. Probably. See, I-I’d like a couple of days to think about it, ‘cause it is a big decision. O-or maybe, maybe a week, at most, you know? But I do want to make this decision. I’d like to do banking… The counselor looks over at the camera. COUNSELLOR: It’s sad, isn’t it? That THIS is what accountancy does to people? The only way we can fight this terrible, debilitating social disease – ANCHOVY: (pleading to the camera) I only want to be famous! I only want to see my name in lights! Suddenly a FAIRY (ERIC IDLE) appears out of thin air! FAIRY: And so you shall. S/he taps his magic wand on Mr. Anchovy’s head, and -- -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/15/03 12:28am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread - Date Edited: 3/15/03 12:32am (3 edits total) Edited By: Nightowl
	INT. TV STUDIO -- and suddenly we’re in a glitzy GAME SHOW set, with a huge glowing sign that reads in four-foot high light-bulb letters: “HERBERT ANCHOVY PRESENTS: BLACKMAIL” The camera pans to Mr. Anchovy, now seated at a desk (with two gold telephones) and wearing a glittery leopard-skin jacket and tux. His hair is now leading-man perfect. PRODUCER: (O.S.) CUE!! Mr. Anchovy is completely shell-shocked, with no idea how he got here. He slowly removes his glasses, pulls off his fake mustache and SMILES… …and suddenly, the stiff, eager fellow we met is gone. In his personality’s place is the ultimate slimy, smarmy game show host. He starts chewing some imaginary gum as a peppy theme tune comes up, and he smirks at the camera. HOST: Hello, good evening and welcome to “Blackmail”! And to start tonight’s program, we go north to Preston in Lancashire, and Mrs. Betty Teal! A STILL PHOTO appears on screen: A nice-looking woman in her thirties, with ONLY HER EYES concealed by a black box. HOST: Hello, Mrs. Teal! Now, Mrs. Teal, this is for 15 pounds… He holds up a letter, as “15” flashes on-screen. HOST: …and it’s to stop us from revealing the name of your lover in Bolton. So, Mrs. Teal, send us 15 pounds by return of post, please – and your husband Trevor, and your lovely children Diane, Janice and Juliet need never know the name of your lover in Bolton! A TOTALLY NUDE MAN, with the exception of a collar and tie (TERRY JONES) plays a few stirring chords on an organ. CUT BACK to the host. HOST: (holding up the items as he mentions them) And now…a letter, a series of photographs, and a hotel registration book which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible criminal proceedings for a company director in Bromsgrove. He’s a freemason, and a prospective Tory MP….So, Mr. S of Bromsgrove, that’s 3,000 pounds please – “3,000” flashes on-screen – HOST: -- to stop us revealing your name, the name of the three other people involved, the youth organization to which they belong, and the shop where you bought the equipment. The nude organist plays a few chords again with a leer, as another STILL PHOTO appears: Two pairs of nude male legs in dangerous proximity to one another. The host flashes his phony grin again. HOST: Well, we’ll be showing you more of that photograph later in the program – UNLESS we hear from Charles or Michael. And now, it’s time for our “Stop the Film” spot! SUPERIMPOSED FLASHING GLITTERING CAPTION: “STOP THE FILM” HOST: The rules are very simple. We have taken a film which contains compromising scenes and unpleasant details which could wreck a man’s career. (pats one of the phones) But the victim may phone me at any time and stop the film. But don’t forget, the money increases as the film goes on. So the longer you leave it…the more you have to pay! So now, with the clock at 300 pounds this week, “Stop the Film” visited Thames Ditton… The host puts the phone directly in front of him as the show’s theme tune starts up again. GRAINY, JUMPY FILM plays on-screen. As the film progresses, a money sign sits in one corner and increases. A residential street. The handheld camera focuses on a lone man walking down the street. Too far in the distance to make him out. The cameraman ducks behind a car and around as the man crosses the street, walks up to a suburban house, and rings the doorbell. The money list is now at 1800 pounds. The door to the house opens, and we get a brief glimpse of a blond woman in dressing down and lingerie who lets the man in. The camera pans up to an upper-floor window in the house and zooms in. It shows the man and woman entering a bedroom, and the woman removing her gown. 2700 pounds and counting. HOST: He’s a very brave man… The woman removes the lingerie, revealing a black leather corset. As the money list passes 3600, she produces a cat-of-nine-tails and beckons the now-naked man toward her. RIINNG RINNGGG!! CUT BACK to the studio, as the host picks up the phone. HOST: No sir, no! Ha ha…I’m sure you didn’t sir! No, that’s all right – we don’t morally censure, we just want the money. And here’s the address to send it to: CAPTION OVER BLACK SCREEN: BLACKMAIL BEHIND THE HOT WATER PIPES THIRD WASHROOM ALONG VICTORIA STATION HOST: Not at all, sir….thank you, sir. (hangs up and wags his eyebrows at the camera) -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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The Gatherer Title: Manager Emeritus/TF.N Books Staff Registered: Aug '99	Date Posted: 3/15/03 1:46am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	One of my favourite films, which I bought recently on DVD, is Monty Python's "Life of Brian". Hilarious! Brazil... what is that about? Sean Williams told me that is one of his favourite movies... -----signature----- Co-Author - Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales ----------------------------------------------- TFN Books Contributor http://www.theforce.net/books
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flying_fishi Registered: Mar '02	Date Posted: 3/15/03 12:14pm Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	Blackmail is one of my all-time favourite skits. I'll never get tired of watching that one -----signature----- Goody gumdrops
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/16/03 12:22am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread - Date Edited: 3/16/03 12:25am (1 edits total) Edited By: Nightowl
	INT. OFFICE – DAY A pair of policemen walk into a business office. They are INSPECTOR PRALINE (JOHN CLEESE) and SUPERINTENDANT PARROT (GRAHAM CHAPMAN). Praline is holding a box of chocolates in his hand, the same box that Queen Elizabeth is holding in a painting on the far wall of the office. (The box reads “Whizzo.”) The two policeman walk over to a dapper BUSINESSMAN (TERRY JONES) seated at his desk. PRALINE: Mr. Milton? MILTON: I am, yes. PRALINE: You are sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company? MILTON: (perfect innocence) I am. PRALINE: Superintendant Parrot and I are from the hygiene squad – MILTON: Yes? PRALINE: -- and we would like to have a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled “The Whizzo Quality Assortment.” MILTON: Ah, good, yes. PRALINE: If I may begin at the beginning: (sits down and pulls out a chocolate from the box) First, there is the cherry fondue. Now, this is extremely nasty. But we can’t prosecute you for that. MILTON: Agreed. Praline pulls out another chocolate. PRALINE: Next, we have number four…..”Crunchy Frog.” MILTON: Ah, yes. PRALINE: Am I right in thinking there’s a real frog in here? MILTON: Yes, a little one. PRALINE: What sort of frog? MILTON: A dead frog. PRALINE: Is it cooked? MILTON: No. PRALINE: What – a RAW frog?!? Parrot seems increasingly nauseous as Milton goes into a spirited spiel. MILTON: We use only the finest baby frogs, dew picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and then sealed in a succulent Swiss quintuple smooth treble cream milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly frosted with glucose. PRALINE: That’s as may be – but it’s still a frog!! MILTON: What else would it be? PRALINE: Well, don’t you even take the bones out?!? MILTON: (shrugs) If we took the bones out, it wouldn’t be crunchy, would it? PRALINE: Superintendant Parrot ate one of those – PARROT: (on the verge of hurling) Would you excuse me a moment sir – PRALINE: Yes. Parrot runs out as fast as his legs can carry him. MILTON: Well, it says “Crunchy Frog” quite plainly. PRALINE: Well, never mind that, we have to protect the public. People aren’t going to think there’s a real frog in their chocolate!! The superintendant thought it was an almond whirl. They’re bound to think it’s some form of mock frog. MILTON: (jumps up from his seat, greatly offended) MOCK frog?!? We use no artificial preservatives or additives of any kind!!! PRALINE: Nevertheless, I advise you that in the future, you should replace the words “Crunchy Frog” with the legend “Crunchy Raw Unboned Real Dead Frog” if you want to avoid prosecution! MILTON: (sinks back in his seat) What about our sales? PRALINE: I don’t give a damn about your sales, I have to protect the general public. Now, how about this one…Number five – (shouts at the door) It was number five, wasn’t it? A still green-looking Parrot walks back in and nods. PRALINE: Number Five – “Ram’s Bladder Cup!!” Parrot spins around and runs back out of the room. PRALINE: Now what kind of confection is this?!? MILTON: (another spiel) We use choicest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish ram’s bladder, emptied, steamed, flavored with sesame seeds whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark’s vomit. PRALINE: LARK’S VOMIT?!?!? MILTON: Correct. PRALINE: Well, it doesn’t say anything here about lark’s vomit!! MILTON: Oh yes it does! On the bottom of the box, after “Monosodium Glutamate.” Praline checks the box. Sure enough, there is it on the list of ingredients. PRALINE: I hardly think this is good enough! I think it would be more appropriate if the box bore a large red label warning “Lark’s Vomit!” MILTON: Our sales would plummet! PRALINE: Well, why don’t you move into more conventional areas of confectionary, like praline or lime cream? A very popular flavor, I’m led to understand! Or strawberry delight? Parrot staggers back into the room, looking very ill indeed. Praline pulls out another candy. PRALINE: I mean, look at this one – “Cockroach Cluster!” And this, “Anthrax Ripple!” Parrot’s eyes bulge in panic – but he no longer has the energy to run. He has just enough time to yank off his helmet, turn it over and put it under his mouth before – BBLLLAAARRRGGGGHHHH!!! Both Praline and Milton wince at the ghastly sight. PRALINE: And what’s this one – “Spring Surprise?” MILTON: Ah – now, that’s our specialty! Covered in darkest creamy velvety-smooth chocolate. When you pop it into your mouth, steel bolts spring out and plunge straight through both cheeks. As he says this, Praline angrily gestures for Parrot to put his helmet back on. With a pathetic expression on his face, Parrot does so – and vomit trickles down the sides of his face. PRALINE: Well, where’s the pleasure in that?!? If people place a nice chocky in their mouth, they don’t expect to get their cheeks pierced! In any case, this is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat. I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station. MILTON: (sighs and gets up) It’s a fair cop. PRALINE: And don’t talk to the forum readers!! MILTON: I’m sorry! Praline hauls Milton out of the room, and the now vomit-covered Parrot looks at the camera. PARROT: If only the general public would take more care when buying its’ sweeties, it would reduce the number of man-hours lost to the nation, and they would spend less time having their stomachs pumped and sitting around in public lavatories… -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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medleyoz Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 3/17/03 1:13am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	Monty Python rules. i am not a big fan but have seen a few episodes of the TV show the Spam skit one and the dead parrot/lumberjack skit are 2of my favourite. i even used monty python in my HSC[end highschool exams] for English The Holy Grail is hella funny. "we are the Knights that say ni" I have to buy the DVD set of films. -----signature----- WARNING: your posting can harm others When the whole damn world is dead there's your ******* peace.
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Jedi knight Pozzi Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 3/17/03 2:55am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	The Region 4 DVDs suck. They are Pan and Scan and have no extras. -----signature----- Nothing lasts forever. But somethings last for long enough. Bye Mum, RIP. And Thank you.
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/18/03 1:51am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	INT. TOBACCONIST’S SHOP A modest-looking shop for cigars, cigarettes, snuff, pipes, etc. A mustachioed TOBACCONIST (TERRY JONES) works quietly behind the counter. A brief ROLL-UP moves up the screen before us: “In 1970, the British Empire lay in ruins. Foreign nationals frequented the streets, many of them Hungarians (not the streets, the foreign nationals). Anyway, many of these Hungarians went into tobacconist’s shops to buy cigarettes…” A HUNGARIAN (JOHN CLEESE) walks in, holding a tiny book in his hands. He is wearing a hat, thick coat and spectacles, and has a big grey mustache. He looks down at the book as the tobacconist smiles at him. HUNGARIAN: Uh, hah…I will not buy dees rrrecord. It ees scratched. TOBACCONIST: Sorry? HUNGARIAN: (louder and slower) I will not buy dees rrrrecord. It ees scratched. TOBACCONIST: Oh, no no no. This, uh…tobacconist’s. HUNGARIAN: Ahhh….I will not buy dees tobacconeests. It ees scratched. TOBACCONIST: No no no no. Tobacco – um, cigarettes. HUNGARIAN: Yah! TOBACCONIST: Yeah? HUNGARIAN: Yah, seegarettes. Yah. Uh….uh… The Hungarian looks deeply in his small book for a phrase. HUNGARIAN: Yah. (reading from the book) Mmmy hovercraft ees fool of eels. Beat. TOBACCONIST: What? HUNGARIAN: My hovercraft (gestures puffing cigarette to his mouth) ees fool of eels. (gestures striking a match) TOBACCONIST: Ahh, matches! Matches – He hands a box of matches to the Hungarian. HUNGARIAN: Yah! Yah, yah, yah, yah. (reading again) Um….doo you wannntt……doo you wannnt….to come back to my place – bouncy bouncy? Another confused beat. TOBACCONIST: Uh, I don’t think you’re using that right… HUNGARIAN: You grrreat poof. TOBACCONIST: (shudders) Ummm….that’ll be six ‘n six, please. HUNGARIAN: Eef I said you had a bee-yoo-tiful boody, would you hold eet against me? I….I am no longer eenfected. TOBACCONIST: Ummmm… (gestures to the book) May I? May I…. HUNGARIAN: Yah, yah, yah. The tobacconist takes the book and flips through it. TOBACCONIST: “It costs six ‘n six…” HUNGARIAN: Seex and seex… TOBACCONIST: Costs six ‘n – ah! (finds the phrase) Here we are. Um….(reads) Yandelvayasna grldenwi stravenka. The Hungarian DECKS the tobacconist with a right cross. EXT. STREET – DAY A BRITISH POLICEMAN (GRAHAM CHAPMAN) hears the tobacconist’s yelp of pain from far away as he is milking his horse. (Don’t ask.) Leaving the horse, he bolts down the street, sprinting. He pauses briefly, looking around, then runs across the street. He takes off for three blocks down the other side of the road…. EXT. ANOTHER STREET – DAY ….then runs across an intersection into another road and runs several more blocks. Again he pauses and looks around….then takes off across the street into the tobacconist’s corner shop. INT. TOBACCONIST’S SHOP The policeman rushes in. POLICEMAN: What’s going on here, then?!? HUNGARIAN: Ah! (reading from the book) Yoo have beeuteeful thighs. POLICEMAN: WHAT?!?!? TOBACCONIST: (pulling himself up from behind the counter, holding his nose) He hit me… HUNGARIAN: (reading, points to tobacconist) Dee-rop your pantees, Sir William, I cannot wait till lunchtime. POLICEMAN: RIGHT!! He seizes the Hungarian and pulls him out of the shop. HUNGARIAN: (as he’s pulled) My neeples explode with deelight!! The tobacconist shakes his head as he watches them go. NARRATOR: (JOHN CLEESE, V.O.) The Hungarian gentleman was subsequently released, but it was his information which led to the arrest and trial of the real culprit. INT. COURTROOM A British court, with judge, bailiff and defense attorney in powdered white wigs and long black robes. The bailiff (ERIC IDLE) rises from his chair. BAILIFF: Call Alexander Yalt! MAN: (offscreen, in harmonic song) Call Alexander Yallltttt… 2’ND MAN: (joins in) Call Alexander Yallllttt…. CHORUS OF MEN: (O.S.) Call Alexander Yallllttttt….. JUDGE: (TERRY JONES) Oh, shut up!! The bailiff turns to ALEXANDER YALT (MICHAEL PALIN), standing in the witness box. BAILIFF: You are Alexander Yalt? YALT: (sing-song) Oh, I am…. BAILIFF: Skip the impersonations. You are Alexander Yalt?? YALT: I am. BAILIFF: You are hereby charged that on the 28th of May, 1970, you did willfully, unlawfully, and with malice aforethought, published an alleged English/Hungarian phrasebook with intent to cause a breach of the peace. How do you plead? YALT: Not guilty. BAILIFF: You live at 46 Horton Terrace? YALT: I do live at 46 Horton Terrace. BAILIFF: You are the director of a publishing company? YALT: I am the director of a publishing company. BAILIFF: Your company publishes phrase books? YALT: My company does publish phrase books. BAILIFF: You did say 46 Horton Terrace, did you? YALT: Yes. BAILIFF: (strikes a gong) Ah! Got him! At the side, the policeman and the DEFENSE ATTORNEY (JOHN CLEESE) laugh and applaud. JUDGE: Get on with it, get on with it… BAILIFF: Yes, M’Lord. (picks up a small book) On the 28th day of May, you published this phrasebook. YALT: I did. BAILIFF: To cause public havoc? YALT: I didn’t publish it to cause havoc!! BAILIFF: With your Lordship’s permission, I would like to quote an example. The Hungarian phrase meaning “Can you please direct me to the railway station?” is here translated by the English phrase….. ”Please fondle my buttocks.” He glares coldly at Yalt. EXT. STREET – DAY Another Hungarian approaches an UPPER-CLASS TWIT on the street. HUNGARIAN (JONES): (reading from book) Pleeese fondle my buttocks. TWIT (CHAPMAN): Ah, yes. (points) It’s past the post office, 200 yards down, and then left at the light. The Hungarian nods with a smile and walks down the street. INT. COURTROOM YALT: I wish to plead incompetence. COP: (gets up) Please, may I ask for an adjournment, M’Lord? JUDGE: Adjournment?? Certainly not! The cop sadly sits back down…..and lets out the LOUDEST, LONGEST, AND NASTIEST FART ever recorded. Everyone else in the courtroom recoils. JUDGE: Why on Earth didn’t you say WHY you wanted an adjournment?!? COP: (gets up) I didn’t know an acceptable legal phrase, M’Lord. He sits back down. The D.A. also has a phrasebook in his hands and looks meaningfully at the camera – but whatever joke he was about to tell is lost by the sudden appearance of: OLD FILM A group of old women applauding. INT. COURTROOM The judge bangs his gavel. JUDGE: If there’s any more stock film of women applauding, I shall clear the court!! -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/21/03 2:27am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread - Date Edited: 3/21/03 2:29am (1 edits total) Edited By: Nightowl
	Sorry, don't have time to write one out for you tonight. So I'll "borrow" one from the website Monty Python's Flying Circus in Australia. And so, we bring you a BBC radio production... INT. LIVING ROOM A pair of pepperpots (old British ladies) sit at a couch, quietly listening to an old-style radio. RADIO ANNOUNCER: ...and that concludes this week's episode of 'How to Recognize Different Parts of the Body,' adapted for radio by Ann Haydon-Jones and her husband Pip. And now the BBC is proud to present a brand new radio drama series, "The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots." Part One: The Beginning. The song "Coronation Scot" plays over the radio (as heard in the series 'Paul Temple' for years) MAN'S VOICE: Yoo arrr Mary, Queen of Scots? WOMAN'S VOICE: I am! There now follows the sounds of ULTRAVIOLENT blows being dealt, things being smashed, awful crunching noises, bones being broken, and other bodily harm being inflicted. All of this accompanied by SCREAMING from the woman. The two pepperpots listen patiently.After a beat, "Coronation Scot" fades up and out. ANNOUNCER: Stay tuned for part two of the Radio Four Production of "The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots", coming up...almost immediately. One of the pepperpots goes to the radio set and switches stations. As she returns to her seat "Coronation Scot" plays again, followed by the sound of a saw cutting, and other violent sounds as before, with the woman screaming bloody murder. Suddenly it is silent... MAN'S VOICE: I think she's dead. WOMAN'S VOICE: No I'm not! Beat. Then the sounds of physical harm and screaming start again. Then "Coronation Scot" fades up and out. ANNOUNCER: That was Episode Two of "The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots", specially adapted for radio by Gracie Fields and Joe Frazier. And now, Radio Four will explode. The radio EXPLODES, shooting shrapnel all over the room. The two women look at each other in surprise. FIRST PEPPERPOT (GRAHAM CHAPMAN): We'll have to watch the Telly-vision! SECOND PEPPERPOT (JOHN CLEESE): Aaaaw. They turn the couch so it's facing the television. One turns the television on, and they sit down. There is a small penguin sitting on top of the television set, sitting contentedly looking at them in a stuffed sort of way. There's nothing on the TV screen itself. BOTH PEPPERPOTS: (singing, mumbled) hhmhmhmhmh... mhmmhmh mhmhm hhmhmmhm mhmhmmhmhmh FIRST PEPPERPOT: Wot's that on top of the telly-vision set then? SECOND PEPPERPOT: (matter-of-factly) Looks like a penguin. Beat. FIRST PEPPERPOT: No no no. I didn't mean wot's on the telly-vision set, I meant wot program? SECOND PEPPERPOT: Ohh... The second pepperpot goes to the TV, switches it on and returns to her seat. The set takes a long time to warm up and produce a picture. SECOND PEPPERPOT: It's been a long time there, now, has it? FIRST PEPPERPOT: Wot's it doin' there? SECOND PEPPERPOT: Standin'! FIRST PEPPERPOT: I can see that! Beat. FIRST PEPPERPOT: If it laid an egg, it would roll down the back of the telly-vision set. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Ummmm. I hadn't thought of that. FIRST PEPPERPOT: Unless it's a male. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Yes. It looks fairly butch. Beat. FIRST PEPPERPOT: Per'aps it's from next door. SECOND PEPPERPOT: (yelling) NEXT DOOR?!? Penguins don't come from NEXT DOOR! They come from the Antarctic! FIRST PEPPERPOT: (yet louder) BURMA!!! They both stop short, looking around. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Why'd'j say that? FIRST PEPPERPOT: I panicked. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Oh. FIRST PEPPERPOT: Per'aps it's from the zoo. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Which zoo? FIRST PEPPERPOT: (angrily) 'ow should I know which zoo it's from?!? I'm not Doctor bloody Bernofsky!! SECOND PEPPERPOT: 'Oo's Doctor bloody Bernofsky? FIRST PEPPERPOT: He knows everything. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Oooh, I wouldn't like that, that'd take all the mystery out of life. Beat. SECOND PEPPERPOT: Besides, if it were from the zoo, it'd have "property of the zoo" stamped on it. FIRST PEPPERPOT: They don't stamp animals "property of the zoo"!! You can't stamp a huge lion "property of the zoo"!! SECOND PEPPERPOT: (confidently) They stamp them when they're small. FIRST PEPPERPOT: (snapping back) Wot happens when they moult? SECOND PEPPERPOT: Lions don't moult. FIRST PEPPERPOT: No, but penguins do. THERE! I've run rings around you logically. SECOND PEPPERPOT: (looks at the camera) OOOOH! INTERCOURSE THE PENGUIN!!! The television finally snaps on: an announcer is sitting behind a news desk. MAN: (TERRY JONES) Hello! Well, it's just after eight o'clock, and time for the penguin on top of your television set to explode. Beat. Then the penguin explodes. Smoke and feathers fly in every direction. Beat. FIRST PEPPERPOT: 'Ow did 'e know that was going to happen?! MAN: It was an inspired guess. -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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urgent_jedi_picnic Registered: Jan '03	Date Posted: 3/21/03 7:08am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread - Date Edited: 3/21/03 7:15am (2 edits total) Edited By: urgent_jedi_picnic
	Gatherer: I saw Brazil a couple of years ago. It was weird. The idea behind it was that society is so obsessed with process and forms that you can't do ANYTHING without filling out the proper form first. If you don't fill out the forms, you're a criminal. It's about rebels (Robert DeNiro) who fix your air conditioning without doing the paperwork first! How about a transcript of the argument clinic? The Picnic -----signature----- *EoA* - Elephants on Amphetamines www.votequimby.net http://phatooine.net/forums <------- Fun times.
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Nightowl Title: TFN Timetales Writer Registered: Jul '98	Date Posted: 3/23/03 2:15am Subject: RE: Monty Python's Forum Circus: The completely illegal and unofficial forum thread
	INT. RECEPTIONIST'S OFFICE -- DAY A pretty blond receptionist (RITA DAVIES) sits at her desk, seemingly frozen in time. A dapper-looking MAN (MICHAEL PALIN) walks in, looks around, crosses over to the secretary. He notes her strangely vacant expression. He tentatively reaches out and touches her breast, right on the nipple, as though it were a bell. (Sure enough, the nipple buzzes.) The receptionist jumps to life with a smile. RECEPTIONIST: OOH! Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you? MAN: Ah. I'd like to have an argument, please. RECEPTIONIST: Certainly, sir. Have you been here before? MAN: No I haven't. This is my first time. RECEPTIONIST: I see. Well, do you want to have just one argument, or were you thinking of taking a course? MAN: Well, what is the cost? RECEPTIONIST: Well, it's one pound for a five minute argument, but only eight pounds for a course of ten. MAN: Well, I think it would be best if I perhaps started off with just the one and then see how it goes. RECEPTIONIST: Fine. Well, I'll see who's free at the moment. Um... Beat, as the receptionist looks at her desk papers. RECEPTIONIST: Mr. DeBakey's free, but he's a little bit conciliatory. Ha ha...no. Ahh yes -- try Mr. Barnard. Room 12. MAN: Thank you. The man walks past the receptionist and down a hall. INT. HALL The man looks down the doors, counting the numbers on them. At Room 12, he stops and enters. INT. ROOM 12 MR. BERNARD (GRAHAM CHAPMAN) is seated at a desk. He leaps to his feet as the man enters. MR. BARNARD: WHAT DO YOU WANT? MAN: Well, I was told outside that... MR. BARNARD: Don't give me that, you snotty-faced heap of parrot droppings! MAN: What? MR. BARNARD: Shut your festering gob, you tit! Your type really makes me puke, you vacuous, coffee-nosed, maloderous, pervert!!! MAN: Look, I CAME HERE FOR AN ARGUMENT, I'm not going to just stand -- MR. BARNARD: OH, oh I'm sorry, but this is abuse. MAN: Oh, I see, well, that explains it. MR. BARNARD: Ah yes, you want room 12A, just along the corridor. MAN: Oh, Thank you very much. Sorry. MR. BARNARD: Not at all. MAN: Thank You. The man exits. MR. BARNARD (Under his breath) Stupid git. INT. CORRIDOR The man continues down the corridor and finds Room 12A. INT. ROOM 12A MR. VIBRATING (JOHN CLEESE) is seated at another desk, this one with a small bell sitting on it. A knock at the door. MR. VIBRATING: Come in. The man enters. MAN: Ah. Is this the right room for an argument? MR. VIBRATING: I've told you once. MAN: Uh, no you haven't. MR. VIBRATING: Yes I have. MAN: When? MR. VIBRATING: Just now. MAN: No you didn't. MR. VIBRATING: Yes I did. MAN: You didn't. MR. VIBRATING: I did! MAN: You didn't! MR. VIBRATING: I'm telling you I did! MAN: You most certainly did not!! MR. VIBRATING: Oh, I'm sorry, just one moment -- Is this a five minute argument or the full half hour? MAN: Ohhh. Oh, I see... just the five minutes. MR. VIBRATING: Ah, right, thank you. Anyway, I did. MAN: You most certainly did not. MR. VIBRATING: Look, let's get this thing absolutely clear; I quite definitely told you. MAN: No you did not. MR. VIBRATING: Yes I did. MAN: No you didn't. MR. VIBRATING: Yes I did. MAN: No you didn't. MR. VIBRATING: Yes I did. MAN: No you didn't. MR. VIBRATING: Yes I did. MAN: You didn't. MR. VIBRATING: Did. MAN: Oh look, this isn't an argument!! MR. VIBRATING: Yes it is! MAN: No it isn't! It's just contradiction! MR. VIBRATING: No it isn't! MAN: It is! MR. VIBRATING: It is not. MAN: It is! Look, you just contradicted me. MR. VIBRATING: No, I didn't. MAN: Oh you did!! MR. VIBRATING: No, no, no. MAN: You did just then! MR. VIBRATING: Nonsense! MAN: Oh, this is futile! Beat. MR. VIBRATING: No it isn't. MAN: Yes it is. I came here for a good argument. MR. VIBRATING: No you didn't; you came here for an argument. MAN: An argument isn't just contradiction. MR. VIBRATING: Well...it can be. MAN: No it can't. An argument is a connected series of statements intended to establish a proposition. MR. VIBRATING: No it isn't. MAN: Yes it is! It's not just contradiction. MR. VIBRATING: Look, if I argue with you, I must take up a contrary position. MAN: Yes, but that's not just saying 'No it isn't.' MR. VIBRATING: Yes it is! MAN: No it isn't! MR. VIBRATING: Yes it is! MAN: No it isn't!! MR. VIBRATING: Yes it is!! MAN: No it isn't!! MR. VIBRATING: Yes it is!! MAN: Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is just the automatic gainsaying of any statement the other person makes. Beat. MR. VIBRATING: No it isn't. MAN: It is!! MR. VIBRATING: Not at all. MAN: Now look -- Mr. Vibrating RINGS the bell. MR. VIBRATING: Thank you, good morning. MAN: What? MR. VIBRATING: That's it. Good morning. MAN: I was just getting interested. MR. VIBRATING: Sorry, the five minutes is up. MAN: That was never five minutes just now! MR. VIBRATING: I'm afraid it was. MAN: Oh no, it wasn't. Beat. Mr. Vibrating leans back in his chair. MR. VIBRATING: (quiet) I'm sorry, I'm...I'm not allowed to argue anymore. MAN: What?!? MR. VIBRATING: If you want me to go on arguing, you'll have to pay for another five minutes. MAN: Yes, but that was never five minutes just now!! Mr. Vibrating starts WHISTLING innocently. MAN: Oh come on! Look, this is ridiculous... MR. VIBRATING: I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid. MAN: Oh, all right, here you go... He hands Mr. Vibrating a bank note. MR. VIBRATING: Thank you. Beat. MAN: Well? MR. VIBRATING: Well what? MAN: That wasn't really five minutes just now. MR. VIBRATING: I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid. MAN: I just paid! MR. VIBRATING: No you didn't. MAN: I DID! MR. VIBRATING: No you didn't. MAN: I did!!! MR. VIBRATING: You never. MAN: I did!! MR. VIBRATING: You never. MAN: I DID!!! MR. VIBRATING: You never. MAN: Look, I don't want to argue about this. MR. VIBRATING: Well, I'm very sorry, but you didn't pay. MAN: Aha!! If I didn't pay, why are you arguing? (on his look) Ahh...I got you! Beat. MR. VIBRATING: No you haven't. MAN: Yes I have. If you're arguing, I must have paid. MR. VIBRATING: Not necessarily. I could be arguing in my spare time. MAN: Oh I've had enough of this... MR. VIBRATING: No you haven't. MAN: Yes I have! MR. VIBRATING: No you haven't. MAN: Yes I have! MR. VIBRATING: No you haven't. MAN: Yes I have! MR. VIBRATING: No you haven't. MAN: Yes I have! MR. VIBRATING: No you haven't. MAN: OH SHUT UP!!! He stalks out of the room. -----signature----- "Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds." -- Doctor Who, 1978 Creator/co-writer, Star Wars Timetales http://www.theforce.net/timetales/index.shtml
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