Monty Python's Forum Circus: Six Hours of Python on BBC America Tonight

ALBATROSS!!!

I love this skit:

Mr. Smoketoomuch:
Their bloth baps and their bardigans and their transistor radios, bomplaining about the tea: "Oh, they don't make it properly, do they?" And stopping at endless Majorcan bodegas selling fish and chips and Watney's Red Barrel and calamaries and two veg. And sitting in their cotton sun frocks, squirting Timothy Whites sun cream all over their puffy, raw, swollen, purulent flesh, 'cos they overdid it on the first day.
Mr. Bounder:
Yes, I know just what you mean! Now, what we offer is...
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and Bellevueses, Bontinentals with their international luxury modern roomettes...
Mr. Bounder:
Oh, yes.
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...and swimming pools full of draught Red Barrel and fat German businessmen pretending to be acrobats and forming pyramids and frightening the children and...
Mr. Bounder:
Oh, yes.
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...barging into the queues. And if you're not at your table...
Mr. Bounder:
Oh, yes.
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...spot on seven you miss your bowl of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup, the first item in the menu of International Cuisine.
Mr. Bounder:
Absolutely. Now what we have here is...
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
Every Thursday night there's bloody cabaret in the bar featuring some tiny, emaciated dago with nine-inch hips and some fat bloated tart with her hair Brylcremed down and big arse presenting Flamenco for Foreigners.
Mr. Bounder:
Will you be quiet, please?
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
And adenoidal typists from Birmingham with flabby white legs...
Mr. Bounder:
Will you be quiet?
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...and diarrhea trying to pick up hairy, bandy-legged, wop waiters called Manuel.
Mr. Bounder:
Be-be quiet!
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
And once a week there's an excursion to local Roman remains, where you can buy cherryade and melted ice cream...
Mr. Bounder:
Will you be quiet?
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...and bleedin' Watney's Red Barrel.
Mr. Bounder:
Shut up!
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
And one night they take you to a typical restaurant with local...
Mr. Bounder:
Shut up!
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...atmosphere and color and you sit next to a...
Mr. Bounder:
Shut up!
Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...party of people from Rhyl who keep singing "I love the Costa Brava!"
Mr. Bounder:
Shut up!

Mr. Smoketoomuch:
"I love the Costa Brava!" And you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an Instamatic camera and last Tuesday's Daily Express...

Mr. Bounder:
Please be quiet! This is the last time...

Mr. Smoketoomuch:
...and he drones on and on and on about how Ian Smith should be running the country and how many languages Margaret Powell can speak and then she throws up all over the cuba libres. And spending four days on the tarmac at Luton Airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but dry British Airways-type sandwiches.

Mr. Bounder:
Shut up! Please shut up!
[A man in a white coat (John Cleese) comes to lead Mr Smoketoomuch away, off stage and through the aisles between the audience.]

Mr. Smoketoomuch:
And you can't even get a glass of Watney's Red Barrel because you're still in England and the bloody bar closes every time you're thirsty. And the kids are crying and vomiting and breaking the plastic ashtrays. They keep telling you it'll only be another hour, but you know damn well your plane is still in Iceland, and has to come back and take a party of...Shut up!...take a party of Swedes to Yugoslavia, before it can load you up at 3 a.m. in the morning. And then you sit on the tarmac for four hours because of unforeseen difficulties, i.e. the permanent strike of air traffic control over Paris. When you finally get to Malaga airport, everybody's queueing for the bloody toilet, [he slips away from the man in the white coat by climbing over the audience] and queueing for the bloody armed customs officers, and queueing for the bloody bus that isn't there, waiting to take you to the hotel that hasn't yet been built. When you finally get to the half-buil

 

INT. COLONEL'S OFFICE -- DAY
An austere, functional military office. Seated at the desk before us is a mustachioed, prim-and-proper COLONEL (GRAHAM CHAPMAN).

COLONEL: Hello to all of you out there in cyberland. Now, this forum thread is two pages old, but I've already noticed an over-reliance of this thread upon transcripts. Transcripts for a thirty-year-old television program, of which the full flavor and depth of humor therein cannot POSSIBLY be captured by typed-out text alone. Indeed, Terry Gilliam and his droll animations are entirely left out, and song lyrics without music is just plain silly.
Now, nobody likes a good laugh more than I do. (beat) Except for perhaps my wife...(tenative) and some of her friends...(a bit bugged) oh yes, and Captain Johnson. (beat) Come to think of it, MOST people like a good laugh more than I do. But that's beside the point! This is a forum for DISCUSSION, not a storehouse for second-hand script-writers! Now, on my cue, I want to hear some healthy debate on the pros and cons of Monty Python and their effect on society, whether or not they are still relevant, and why in the 1970's -- let alone now -- British TV could get away with a LOT more nudity-wise than your average American basic-cable channel. Now, Mr. Server, move this thread up if you please. UP!!

 

Gumby: Doctor! Doctor!

Gumby Dr: Yes?

Gumby: My brain hurts.

Gumby Dr: Well, let's have a look at it then.


Gotta love the Gumby's. What nudity are you talking about? The only nudes I can remember is Terry Jones playing the piano naked and that was from behind (thank God).

 

One of the funniest things I saw was the "marathon for the incontinent (sp?)", where everyone is running down a dirt road and you keep seeing people running in and out of the woods.

In the same sketch, they had the 200 meter dash for people with no sense of direction. The gun goes off and everyone runs in a completely different direction.

Let's not forget the 200 meter dash for the deaf. Gun goes off........ and nothing happens.

The Picnic

 

TV MONTAGE: PHOTOGRAPHS OF HUMAN BRAIN, MAN WITH EGG ON HIS HEAD, MAN LOOKING THROUGH MICROSCOPE, DIAGRAMS OF BRAIN

CAPTION: "IT'S THE MIND"

Spooky theramin music plays over this black-and-white show opening, followed by the color image of a man sitting at a desk.

MR. BONIFACE (MICHAEL PALIN): Good evening. Tonight on "It's the Mind," we examine the phenomenon of deja vu -- that strange feeling we sometimes get that we've lived through something before. That what is happening now has already happened. Tonight on "It's the Mind," we examine the phenomenon of deja vu -- that strange feeling we sometimes get that we've...

Mr. Boniface pauses, a bit confused at something, then continues.

MR. BONIFACE: Anyway, tonight on "It's the Mind," we examine the phenomenon of deja vu, that stra

 

TV MONTAGE: PHOTOGRAPHS OF HUMAN BRAIN, MAN WITH EGG ON HIS HEAD, MAN LOOKING THROUGH MICROSCOPE, DIAGRAMS OF BRAIN

CAPTION: "IT'S THE MIND"

Spooky theramin music plays over this black-and-white show opening, followed by the color image of a rather startled and shaken man sitting at a desk.

MR. BONIFACE (MICHAEL PALIN): Good evening. Tonight on "It's the Mind," we examine the phenomenon of deja vu, that strange feeling we sometim....es get...that...we've lived through somethin

 

I've been a Monty Python fan for years. It's pure genius.

My favourite sketch in the Ministry of Silly Walks - John Cleese has really bendy legs lol The Holy Grail is most excellent, especially the scene with the Black Knight "Tis but a scratch".

Brazil is an excellent movie but not exactly Monty Python, but it's Terry Gilliam. Time Bandits is definitely in the comedy genrie and has quite a few of the Monty Python team in it.

 

TV MONTAGE: PHOTOGRAPHS OF HUMAN BRAIN, MAN WITH EGG ON HIS HEAD, MAN LOOKING THROUGH MICROSCOPE, DIAGRAMS OF BRAIN

CAPTION: "IT'S THE MIND"

Spooky theramin music plays over this black-and-white show opening, followed by the color image of a VERY startled and shaken man sitting at a desk.

MR. BONIFACE (MICHAEL PALIN): G...good evening. Tonight on "It's the Mind," we examine the phenomenon of ddddddeja vvvvvvvu, that extraordinary feeling....quite extraordinary....

His voice trails off. Beat. Then a phone on the desk rings. He answers it.

MR. BONIFACE: No, fine. Thanks, fine.

He hangs up, and a man walks up with a glass of water, hands it to him, and leaves.

MR. BONIFACE: Oh, thank you. (to the camera) That strange feeling we sometimes get that we've lived through something before --

Then a phone on the desk rings. He answers it.

MR. BONIFACE: No, fine. Thanks, fine.

He hangs up, and a man walks up with a glass of water, hands it to him, and leaves. Boniface jumps a bit at that.

MR. BONIFACE: ....thank you. (to the camera) That strange feeling --

Then a phone on the desk rings. He answers it.

MR. BONIFACE: No, fine. Thanks, fine.

He hangs up, and a man walks up with a glass of water, hands it to him, and leaves.

MR. BONIFACE: Thank you.

Beat. Then Boniface SCREAMS IN TERROR.

MR. BONIFACE: (to the camera) Look, something's happening to me -- I -- I -- um, I think I'd better go and see someone. Good night.

Then a phone on the desk rings. Boniface leaps out of his desk and runs off-screen.

EXT. STREET -- DAY

Mr. Boniface runs out of the TV studio and chases after a passing milk truck. He leaps aboard it.

MILKMAN: Oi! Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
MR. BONIFACE: No, doctor, no. Something very funny's happening to m

 

TV MONTAGE: PHOTOGRAPHS OF HUMAN BRAIN, MAN WITH EGG ON HIS HEAD, MAN LOOKING THROUGH MICROSCOPE, DIAGRAMS OF BRAIN

CAPTION: "IT'S THE MIND"

Spooky theramin music plays over this black-and-white show opening, followed by the color image of a TERRIFIED man sitting at a desk, who immediately screams and runs offscreen.

EXT. STREET -- DAY

Mr. Boniface runs out of the TV studio and chases after a passing milk truck. He leaps aboard it.

MILKMAN: Oi! Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
MR. BONIFACE: No, doctor, no. Something very funny's happening to me.

INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE

Mr. Boniface rushes in and faces Dr. Cream (TERRY JONES), sitting at his desk.

DR. CREAM: Ah, come in. Now, what seems to be the matter?
MR. BONIFACE: I have this terrible feeling of deja vu...

 

INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE

Mr. Boniface rushes in and faces Dr. Cream (TERRY JONES), sitting at his desk.

DR. CREAM: Ah, come in. Now, what seems to be the matter?
MR. BONIFACE: I have this terrible feeling of deja vu...

 

INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE

Mr. Boniface rushes in and faces Dr. Cream (TERRY JONES), sitting at his desk.

DR. CREAM: Ah, come in. Now, what seems to be the matter?
MR. BONIFACE: I have this terrible feeling of deja vu...

 

Hello!! I love the Holy Grail.... My history class had to do a project on the Middle Ages so in addition to my poster I did the coconuts and said "This is my knowlege of the Middle Ages."
Teacher: "Where did you get this idea?"
Me: "I watched Monty Python movies until my brain rotted sir.

Nobody knew what I was talking about...

And my mum won't let me see "Life of Brian"

"History of the World" was Mel Brooks.

 

Some friends and I did the Spam Skit for the talent show at my school. We came in third.

Meaning of Life is the best Python movie.

"EXT.-INDUSTRIAL PARK-DAY:

A MAN rounds a corner and looks around warily.

NARRATOR: This man is about to die. For Arthur Jarret is a convicted criminal who has been allowed to choose his own manner of exeution.

Hundreds of NAKED WOMEN WITH HELMETS round the corner and chase MAN through the industrial park..."

 

I love that animated skit where the Baby Carriage eats the little old ladies

 

Title: The Man Who Speaks In Anagrams

From: Monty Python's Flying Circus

Transcribed By: Jedi_Commander_Faofa





Palin: Hello, good evening and welcome to another edition of Blood,

Devastation, Death War and Horror, and later on we'll be

meeting a man who *does* gardening. But first on the show

we've got a man who speaks entirely in anagrams.



Idle: Taht si crreoct.



Palin: Do you enjoy it?



Idle: I stom certainly od. Revy chum so.



Palin: And what's your name?



Idle: Hamrag - Hamrag Yatlerot.



Palin: Well, Graham, nice to have you on the show. Now, where

do you come from?



Idle: Bumcreland.



Palin: Cumberland?



Idle: Stah't it sepricely.



Palin: And I believe you're working on an anagram version of

Shakespeare?



Idle: Sey, sey - taht si crreoct, er - ta the mnemot I'm wroking

on "The Mating of the Wersh".



Palin: "The Mating of the Wersh"? By William Shakespeare?



Idle: Nay, by Malliwi Rapesheake.



Palin: And what else?



Idle: "Two Netlemeng of Verona", "Twelfth Thing","The Chamrent

of Venice"....



Palin: Have you done "Hamlet"?



Idle: "Thamle". 'Be ot or bot ne ot, tath is the nestquoi.'



Palin: And what is your next project?



Idle: "Ring Kichard the Thrid".



Palin: I'm sorry?



Idle: 'A shroe! A shroe! My dingkom for a shroe!'



Palin: Ah, Ring Kichard, yes... but surely that's not an anagram,

that's a spoonerism.



Idle: If you're going to split hairs, I'm going to pi** off. (Exit)


[Laugh]

 

Title: Buying a Bed

From: Monty Python's Flying Circus

Transcribed By: Jedi_Commander_Faofa



Husband (Terry Jones): Hello, my wife and I would like to buy a bed, please.

Mr Lambert (Graham Chapman): Certainly sir, I'll get someone to help you.

Wife (Carol Cleveland): Thank you.

Lambert: Mr Verity!

Mr Verity (Eric Idle): Can I help you, sir?

Husband: Yes, we'd like a bed, a double bed, and I wondered if you'd got one

for about fifty pounds.

Verity: Oh no, I'm afraid not, sir. Our cheapest bed is eight hundred

pounds, sir.

Husband & Wife: Eight hundred pounds?

Lambert: Excuse me, sir, but before I go, I ought to have told you that Mr

Verity does tend to exaggerate. Every figure he gives you will be

ten times too high.

Husband: I see.

Lambert: Otherwise he's perfectly all right.

Husband: I see. Er... your cheapest double bed then is eighty pounds?

Verity: Eight hundred pounds, yes, sir.

Husband: I see. And how wide is it?

Verity: It's sixty feet wide.

Husband: Yes...

Wife: (whispers) Sixty feet!

Husband: (whispers) Six foot wide, you see.

Wife: (whispers) Oh.

Husband: ...and the length?

Verity: The length is ... er ... just a moment. Mr Lambert, what is the

length of the Comfidown Majorette?

Lambert: Ah. Two foot long.

Husband: Two foot long?

Verity: Yes, remembering of course that you have to multiply everything Mr

Lambert says by three. It's nothing he can help, you understand.

Otherwise he's perfectly all right.

Husband: I see, I'm sorry.

Verity: But it does mean that when he says a bed is two foot long, it is in

fact sixty foot long, all right?

Husband: Yes, I see.

Verity: That's without the mattress, of course.

Husband: How much is that?

Verity: Er, Mr Lambert will be able to tell you that. Lambert! Could you

show these twenty good people the dog kennels, please?

Husband: Dog kennels? No, no, the mattresses!

Verity: I'm sorry, you have to say 'dog kennel' to Mr Lambert, because if you

say 'mattress' he puts a bucket* over his head. I should have

explained. Otherwise he's perfectly all right.

Husband: Oh. Ah. I see. Er, excuse me, could you show us the dog kennels,

please, hm?

Lambert: Dog kennels?

Husband: Yes, we want to look at the dog kennels, hm.

Lambert: Ah yes, well that's the pets' department, second floor.

Husband: No, no, no, we want to see the DOG KENNELS.

Lambert (irritated): Yes, second floor.

Husband: No, we don't want to see dog kennels, it's just that Mr Verity said

that...

Lambert: Oh dear, what's he been telling you now?

Husband: Well, he said we should say 'dog kennels' instead of saying

'mattresses'.



(Lambert puts bucket on his head)



Husband: Oh dear. Hello? Hello? Hello?

Verity: (approaching) Did you say 'mattress'?

Husband: Well, yes, er...

Lambert: (muffled) I'm not coming out!

Verity: I did *ask* you not to say 'mattress', didn't I?

Husband: But I mean, er...

Lambert: (muffled) I'm not!

Husband: Oh.

Verity: Now I've got to get him to the fish tank and sing.

Husband: Oh.

Verity: (sings) And did those feet, in ancient time...

Another assistant (John Cleese): (walking up, hearing the singing) Oh dear,

did somebody say mattress to Mr Lambert?

Husband: Yes, I did.

(Assistant gives nasty look at Husband)

Verity: (still singing) ...walk upon England's mountains green...

(Assistant joins in) ...and was the Holy Lamb of God...



(Lambert removes bucket; Verity and Assistant immediately stop singing;

assistant leaves.)



Verity: He should be all right now, but don't...you know...*don't*!

Husband: No, no. (to Lambert) Excuse me, could we see the dog kennels please?

Lambert (irritated): Yes, pets department, second floor.

Husband: No, no, no. Those dog kennels, like that. You see?

Lambert: Mattresses?

Husband: (relieved) Y

 

My mum sat next to Michal Palin in a restaurant 20 years ago, and she told me that he was eating somthing disgusting and now she's sorry that she didn't ask what it was.

 

Ha ha! I love Monty Python! I love Holy Grail, and Fliegender Zirkus (German version, hiliarious).

Michelangelo

Renaissance Choir:
[Gregorian Chant]

Servant:
A Michelangelo to see you, your Holiness.

Pope:
Who?

Servant:
Michelangelo, the famous renaissance artist whose best known works include the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and the celebrated statue of David.

Pope:
Ah. Very well...

Servant:
In 1514 he returned to Florence and de...

Pope:
All right, that's enough, that's enough, they've got it now!

Servant:
Oh.

Michelangelo:
Good evening, your Holiness.

Pope:
Evening, Michelangelo. I want to have a word with you about this painting of yours, "The Last Supper."

Michelangelo:
Oh, yeah?

Pope:
I'm not happy about it.

Michelangelo:
Oh, dear. It took me hours.

Pope:
Not happy at all.

Michelangelo:
Is it the jello you don't like?

Pope:
No.

Michelangelo:
Ah, no, I know, they do have a bit of colour, don't they? Oh, I know, you don't like the kangaroo?

Pope:
What kangaroo?

Michelangelo:
No problem, I'll paint him out.

Pope:
I never saw a kangaroo!

Michelangelo:
Uuh...he's right in the back. I'll paint him out! No sweat, I'll make him into a disciple.

Pope:
Aah.

Michelangelo:
All right?

Pope:
That's the problem.

Michelangelo:
What is?

Pope:
The disciples.

Michelangelo:
Are they too Jewish? I made Judas the most Jewish.

Pope:
No, it's just that there are twenty-eight of them.

Michelangelo:
Oh, well, another one will never matter, I'll make the kangaroo into another one.

Pope:
No, that's not the point.

Michelangelo:
All right. Well, I'll lose the kangaroo. Be honest, I wasn't perfectly happy with it.

Pope:
That's not the point. There are twenty-eight disciples!

Michelangelo:
Too many?

Pope:
Well, of course it's too many!

Michelangelo:
Yeah, I know that, but I wanted to give the impression of a real last supper. You know, not just any old last supper. Not like a last meal or a final snack. But you know, I wanted to give the impression of a real mother of a blow-out, you know?

Pope:
There were only twelve disciples at the last supper.

Michelangelo:
Well, maybe some of the others came along afterw...

Pope:
There were only twelve altogether.

Michelangelo:
Well, maybe some of their friends came by, you know?

Pope:
Look! There were just twelve disciples and our Lord at the last supper. The Bible clearly says so.

Michelangelo:
No friends?

Pope:
No friends.

Michelangelo:
Waiters?

Pope:
No.

Michelangelo:
Cabaret?

Pope:
No!

Michelangelo:
You see, I like them, they help to flesh out the scene, I could lose a few, you know I could...

Pope:
Look! There were only twelve disciples at...

Michelangelo:
I've got it! I've got it! We'll call it "The Last But One Supper"!

Pope:
What?

Michelangelo:
Well there must have been one, if there was a last supper there must have been a one before that, so this, is the "Penultimate Supper"! The Bible doesn't say how many people were there, does it?

Pope:
No, but...

Michelangelo:
Well there you are, then!

Pope:
Look! The last supper is a significant event in the life of our Lord, the penultimate supper was not! Even if they had a conjurer and a mariachi band. Now, a last supper I commissioned from you, and a last supper I want! With twelve disciples and one Christ!

Michelangelo:
One?!

Pope:
Yes one! Now will you please tell me what in God's name possessed you to paint this with three Christs in it?

Michelangelo:
It works, mate!

Pope:
Works?

Michelangelo:
Yeah! It looks great! The fat one balances the two skinny ones.

Pope:
There was only one Redeemer!

Michelangelo:
Ah, I know that, we all know that, what about a bit of artistic license?

Pope:
A one Messiah is what I want!

Michelangelo:
I'll tell you what you want, mate! You want a bloody photographer! That's you want. Not a bloody creative art

 

Could you please post the original Spam transcript ?

The origin of the internet-worde "spam" ?

 

INT. RESTAURANT ? DAY

Your typical greasy-spoon diner, in the midst of lunch-hour traffic. At the rear counter, a harried female cook (TERRY JONES) in an apron is busy stuffing a raw (but cleaned) chicken for a pair of fur-wearing Vikings. One of the Vikings takes a cup of coffee and heads to a nearby table where three other Vikings are eating. At the other end of the restaurant, still more Vikings.

In fact, except for the cook, everyone in here is a Viking.

Suddenly, a pair of elderly customers (ERIC IDLE and GRAHAM CHAPMAN, in a suit and female dress respectively) float down from the sky and neatly into the chairs of an empty table.

MALE CUSTOMER: Good morning.
COOK: (with a screechy voice) Good mornin?.
MALE CUSTOMER: What?ve you got, then?
COOK: (reads from a wall menu) Well, there?s eggs ?n bacon?.uh, egg, sausage and bacon?.egg ?n spam?.egg, bacon ?n spam?egg, bacon, sausage ?n spam?spam, bacon, sausage ?n spam?spam, egg, spam, spam, bacon ?n spam?spam, sausage, spam, spam, spam, spam, bacon, spam, tomato ?n spam?spam, spam, spam, egg n? spam?

A sing-song chant of ?spam spam spam spam? starts throughout the room from the various Vikings, rising as the cook continues to read.

COOK: Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam ?n spam?

The chant rises to a crescendo ? ?Lovely spaammm, LOVELY SPAMMMM ??

COOK: ?or lobster thermidor aux crevettes with mornay sauce, garnished with truffle pate, brandy ?n a fried egg on top ?n spam.

The elderly woman looks rather uncomfortable with the offered cuisine.

FEMALE CUSTOMER: Have you got anything without spam in it?
COOK: There?s spam, eggs, sausage ?n spam. It?s not got much spam innit.
FEMALE CUSTOMER: I don?t want any spam.
MALE CUSTOMER: Why can?t she ?ave egg, bacon, spam ?n sausage?
FEMALE CUSTOMER: ?At?s got spam innit!
MALE CUSTOMER: Not as much spam innit as spam, egg, sausage ?n spam, is it?

The Vikings? ?spam? chant starts up again in the background.

FEMALE CUSTOMER: Look ? (carefully quoting from memory) could I ?ave egg, bacon, spam ?n sausage without the spam then?
COOK: (makes a horrid face) EGHH!!
FEMALE CUSTOMER: Whattya mean, ?egh??? I don?t like spam!!

The Vikings? chant becomes earthshakingly loud.

VIKINGS: Lovely spaaamm, wonderful spaaammm?

BRIEF CUT TO a black and white image of a Viking ship at sea, then back to the diner.

COOK: Shuttup!!
VIKINGS: Lovely spaammm, wonderful spammm---
COOK: SHUT UP!!! (hits the counter with a spoon) SHUT UP!!

The singing dies down.

COOK: Bloody Vikings ? (to the female customer) Look, you can?t ?ave egg, bacon, spam ?n sausage without the spam!
FEMALE CUSTOMER: (shrill) WHY NOT??
COOK: WAUGGH!! It wouldn?t be egg, bacon, spam ?n sausage, would it?
FEMALE CUSTOMER: (at the top of her lungs) I DON?T LIKE SPAM!!!!!!
MALE CUSTOMER: (pats his wife?s knee) Aw dear, don?t make a fuss. I?ll have your spam. I love it! I?m havin? spam, spam, spam, spam, spam ?

The Vikings go into full-throated song again.

MALE CUSTOMER: -- spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam ?n spam!!
VIKINGS: Spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam Lovely spaaammmm, wonderful spaaaammm?
COOK: SHUT UP!!!!!! (chorus dies instantly) Baked beans are off.
MALE CUSTOMER: Well, could I ?ave her spam instead of the baked beans then?
COOK: Y?mean spam, spam, spam,.spam, spam ?

The rest of the cook?s words are drowned out by the rising chant of the Vikings. At the diner?s door, 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.

VIKINGS: LOVELY SPAAMMM, WONDERFUL SPAAAMMMM?LOVELY SPAAMMMM, WONDERFUL SPAAAMMM?
MALE CUSTOMER: (screaming to be heard) YES!!
COOK: EGHH!! (to Vikings) SHUT UP!!! SHUTTT UPPP!!! (hits the counter with the spoon again)

The Hungarian walks up to the counter. After consulting the book he?s reading, he speaks to the cook.

HUNGARIAN: Oh, grrreat boobies, honey bun. My lower instestine ees fool of spam, egg, s

 

EXT. FIELD ? DAY

A beautiful glade in mid-morning. SLOW PAN RIGHT across the field shows sheep grazing near a couple of trees. The pan then shows a wooden fence beside a country road keeping the sheep in. By the gate is a rustic FARMER (GRAHAM CHAPMAN) in a smock and floppy hat. He?s leaning on the gate, watching the sheep thoughtfully while chewing a piece of straw. A CITY GENT (TERRY JONES) on holiday walks up beside him.

CITY GENT: (tips his hat) Good afternoon?
FARMER: Good afternoon.
CITY GENT: Ahhh?.lovely day, isn?t it?
FARMER: Ar. ?Tis that.
CITY GENT: (beat) Are you here on holiday or ?
FARMER: No, no. I live here.
CITY GENT: Oh. Hah. Jolly good, too.

He looks out across the field ? the camera remains locked on him. He frowns, a puzzled look on his face.

CITY GENT: Uh. I-I say?..those are sheep, aren?t they??
FARMER: (nods) Ar.
CITY GENT: Yes, yes, of course. I thought so. Heh heh. Only?.er?..why are they up in the trees?

REVERSE ANGLE: Indeed, several sheep are perched rather ungainly upon the large high branches of the trees.

FARMER: (V.O.) A fair question, and one that in recent weeks has been much on my mind.

Back to the farmer and city gent.

FARMER: It is my considered opinion? that they?re nesting.
CITY GENT: Nesting?!?
FARMER: (nods) Ar.
CITY GENT: L-like birds??
FARMER: Ar, exactly. Birds is the key to the ?ole problem. It?s my belief that these sheep are laboring under the misapprehension that they?re birds. Observe their behavior?

REVERSE ANGLE: Some sheep are grazing on the ground at the foot of the trees. Some of them hop about.

FARMER: (V.O.) Take for a start the sheeps? tendency to hop about the field on their back legs.

SHARP PAN UPWARDS to the top of the trees and the perching sheep.

FARMER: (V.O.) Now witness their attempts to fly from tree to tree. Notice they do not so much fly as plummet.

A sheep takes off from the high branches with a loud ?baa?, takes a nosedive ?

REVERSE ANGLE: The farmer and the city gent wince as a sickening ?crunch? is heard. The farmer points upward.

FARMER: Observe, for example, that ewe in that oak tree. She is clearly trying to teach her lamb to fly.

Offscreen sound -- BAAAaaaa?..Thump. The city gent covers his eyes in horror.

FARMER: (shakes his head) Talk about the blind leading the blind.
CITY GENT: But why do they think they?re birds?!?
FARMER: Another fair question. (beat) One thing is for sure; a sheep is not a creature of the air. It has enormous difficulty in the comparatively simple act of perching.

REVERSE HIGH ANGLE: Another sheep slips off a branch. Back to the farmer and city gent as another crashing sound is heard.

FARMER: As you see. As for flight, its body is totally unadapted to the problems of aviation. (confidential whisper) Trouble is, sheep are very dim. And once they get an idea into their heads, there?s no shifting it.
CITY GENT: But where did they get the idea from??
FARMER: (points) From Harold ? he?s that sheep over there under the elm. He?s that most dangerous of animals?a clever sheep. He?s the ringleader. He has realized that a sheep?s life consists of standing around for a few months and then being eaten. And that?s a depressing prospect for an ambitious sheep. He?s patently hit on the ider of escape.
CITY GENT: But why don?t you just get rid of Harold?
FARMER: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities should he succeed?

 

INT. RESTAURANT
A GUITARIST (ERIC IDLE) and a DANCER (TERRY JONES), both in traditional Spanish costumes grin widely at the camera as they play a short tune.

SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: ?LIVE FROM GOLDERS GREEN?

An ANNOUNCER (JOHN CLEESE) with a Spanish mustache and a mile-wide grin prances in front of the two musicians and addresses the audience in Spanish.

ANNOUNCER: Senores! Senores y Senor-i-tas! Buenas noches?!!!
GUITARIST & DANCER: Buenas noches!!!
ANNOUNCER: Esta noche presentamos con mucho gusto informacion interesante acerca da laaaa LLAMA!!!!

He turns and gestures to a blow-up black and white poster of a llama.

GUITARIST & DANCER: (performing) LA LLAMAAAA!!!

The announcer bounds up to the poster, wide-eyed and even wider-grinned.

ANNOUNCER: Ay-ya!!! (gestures to the poster) La llama es a quadruped, que vive en los ríos grandes como el Amazonas. (Translation: The llama is a quadruped, which lives in big rivers like the Amazon.)
GUITARIST & DANCER: (performing) AMAZONAS!!! Pa-pa-pa!!
ANNOUNCER: (mimes bunny ears) Tiene dos oídos, un corazón, una frente, (mimes a beak) y un pico para comer la miel. (Translation: It has two ears, a heart, a forehead, and a beak for eating honey.)

The guitarist and dancer perform again. At the end of the tune, the announcer dramatically produces a bouquet of flowers from his tux.

ALL: OLE!!!
ANNOUNCER: Pero se proporciona las aletas para la natación. (Translation: But it is provided with fins for swimming.)

The announcer trills as the musicians join in.

GUITARIST & DANCER: (performing and singing) Las llamas son más grandes queeee ranaaaaas. (Translation: Llamas are larger than frogs.)
ANNOUNCER: Las llamas son peligrosas, así que si usted ve uno donde la gente está nadando, usted grita: (Translation: Llamas are dangerous, so if you see one where people are swimming, you shout) CUIDADO.....LLLLLAMMMAAASSS!!!! (Translation: Look out. There are llamas.)
ALL: (performing and singing) Cuidadoooo....cuidadooo....cuiAAADDDOOOO LLLAMMMAAASS....

A GIRL in a Spanish frock (GRAHAM CHAPMAN) rides in on a moped.

ALL: CUIDADOOO....CUIDADOOO....CUIDADDOOO.....CUIDADDDOOOOO LASSS LLLLLAMMMASSS!!!

The girl blows up a paper bag and bursts it.

ALL: OLE!!!!

They bow.

 

Brilliant. I love that surreal aspect they get to some of their sketches.

Nothing beats the Fish Slapping Dance when it comes to the surreal. The one where two members of MPFC 9Michael Palin and John Cleese) are standing in front of a canal. Palin is doing a dance holding two small fish by the tail in both hands. Periodically though the dance he hits Cleese with the fish. He ends his dance by slapping the John Cleese in the face with both fish. Cleese responds by producing an extremely large fish, swings and knocks Palin into the canal with it. Sounds silly but it's actually hilarious to see.

 

I love the one where the man wants to buy a fish license!!

Oh, and when they were doing "Scott of Antartica" or something like that and it was in the desert and John Cleese was drunk out of his mind!

"If you had half as much fun watching this as we had making it, then techniclly we had twice as much fun as you. (smiles)" - Michal Palin. That was one of the funniest lines in my opinion. I gotta get MPFC on DVD!!!!

 

INT. ANOTHER RESTAURANT, TOTALLY DIFFERENT FROM ALL THE OTHER RESTAURANTS FEATURED IN ALL THE TRANSCRIPTS TO DATE, OR FROM ALL THE RESTAURANTS TO BE FEATURED IN FUTURE TRANSCRIPTS, ANY RESEMBLANCE OF WHICH IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL -- DAY

A dapper young man (GRAHAM CHAPMAN) with a pipe looks over the tables of a nice five-star restaurant. He spots his date for the evening, wearing a blue dress (CAROL CLEVELAND ? the lady, that is, not the dress) and takes his seat across from her.

MAN: Hello, darling. Sorry I?m so late.
LADY: That?s all right, darling. I?m 20 minutes late myself.
MAN: Let?s not start worrying about that.
LADY: It's nice here, isn't it?
MAN: Oh yes, a very good restaurant. Five stars, you know.
LADY: Really?
MAN: Mmm. Terrific reputation.

A WAITER (TERRY JONES) in a white tux comes up with menus for the two.

WAITER: (French accent) Good evening, sir! Good evening, madam! And may I say what a pleasure it is to see you here again, sir!
MAN: Oh thank you. (passes the lady a menu from the waiter) Well there you are dear. Have a look there, anything you like. Apparently, the boeuf en croute is fantastic.
WAITER: (points out something on the map) Oh, if I may recommend, sir ... the pheasant a la reine. The sauce is one of the chefs most famous creations.
MAN: Mmm... that sounds very good.
LADY: Sounds lovely!
MAN: Anyway, darling, just have a look at the menu... see what you want, take your time. Oh, er, by the way ? (picks up a fork) I?ve got a bit of a dirty fork. Could you ... er... get me another one?
WAITER: (beat) I beg your pardon?
MAN: Oh, it's nothing ... er, I've got a fork a little bit dirty. Could you get me another fork? Thank you.

The smile vanishes from the shocked waiter.

WAITER: Oh ... sir, 1 do apologize.
MAN: Oh, no need to apologize, it doesn't worry me.
WAITER: Oh no, no, no, I do apologize, sir. I will fetch the headwaiter immediatement.
MAN: No, no, please, there's no need to do that?
WAITER: Oh, no no... I feel sure the headwaiter, he will want to apologize to you himself, personally. I cannot think how this has happened? I will fetch him at once.

The waiter rushes off.

LADY: Well, you certainly get good service here, don?t you?
MAN: Yes, they really look after you here.

The couple happily continues to peruse the menus.

LADY: This all looks delicious?

The HEADWAITER (MICHAEL PALIN in a black tux) strides up to the two, the waiter skulking behind him with a stooped posture and a fearful expression.

HEADWAITER: Excuse me, monsieur and madame?

He picks up the offending fork and looks it over.

HEADWAITER: (explodes at the waiter) This is filthy!!! Who the hell washes up?!? Gaston, find out who washed this up, and give them their cards immediately!!
MAN: (surprised) Oh, no, no --
HEADWAITER: (pulls the waiter back) No no!! On second thought, we can't afford to take any chances. Sack the entire washing-up staff!!
MAN: No, look, please, I don't want to make any trouble?
HEADWAITER: (kindly) Oh, no please, no trouble. It's quite right that you should bring these sort of things to our attention. (puts down the fork, then snarls at the waiter) Gaston, find the manager and tell him what has happened immediately!

The waiter runs off as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

MAN: Please, I don't want to cause any fuss --
HEADWAITER: (kind again) Oh no, please, there's no fuss. We quite simply wish to ensure that nothing interferes with your complete enjoyment of the meal.
MAN: Oh, I'm sure it won't. It was only a dirty fork.

A terrifying gleam comes into the headwaiter?s eyes.

HEADWAITER: I know. And I'm sorry. Bitterly sorry. But I know that nothing I can say... no apologies I can make can alter the fact that in this, our restaurant, (picks up the fork and glares at it with pure malice) you have been given a dirty, filthy, smelly piece of cutlery!!
MAN: It wasn't smelly --
HEADWAITER: It is smelly!! And obscene and disgusting!!