THE
RENT COLLECTORS
GOON SHOW: TLO 20042
7TH
SERIES: No 16
RECORDED: 17 Jan
1957 [1]
Script by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens
GREENSLADE: This is the BBC
Light Programme.
SEAGOON: And so say all of
us Wal!
GREENSLADE: I say – it's
dashed decent of you to concur!
SEAGOON: Ah-ha, isn't it?
What's this 1957 'Bill of Fare' mate?
GREENSLADE: It's a Goon Show
called 'The Rent Collectors'.
ORCHESTRA: Madrigal
for Flute and Harp. Cyril Cringingnut[2] sings over.
GREENSLADE: In a lonely
mountain bog in the
GRYTPYPE: Moriarty, do you
see that fragment of newspaper which has just been blown onto the frontal lobes
of that disgusting Lithuanian shepherd ?
MORIARTY: Oww – yes! Hand
me my mutton-chop telescope.[3]
GRYTPYPE: There you are.
MORIARTY: Yes, I can read
it. Grytpype! Listen to this… Crun and Partners, Commissioners for Oaths, will
pay handsomely for men willing to face the hazards of rent collecting in the fiendish
district of East Acton.[4]
GRYTPYPE: Moriarty – quick!
Let's to it!
GRAMS: Double
whoosh.
FX: Quill scratching on parchment.
CRUN: Now, now, now –
what’s next? Now, Mister Patrick Murphy of no fixed abodey,
sevenpence-halfpenny behind in his rent. Mrs....
BANNISTER: (Distant) Henry!
CRUN: What, what, what…
BANNISTER: Henreee!
CRUN: Oh. Drat that
modern melody-woman.
BANNISTER: (Singing) Yim-bom-biddle-doh! Etc.
CRUN: What is it Min?
BANNISTER: That cat wants to
go out.
CRUN: What makes you
think that Min?
BANNISTER: He's just put his
hat and coat on.
CRUN: Dear oh dear – why
do we have to have a loony moggie[5]
that insists on wearing a hat and coat? Why can't he be like other cats and
just wear a knitted pullover I tell you! Now where was I?
BANNISTER: (On mic) Because the dog's wearing the pullover – you
know that. It's his turn to have the pullover. You know that.
CRUN: Now, back to my
writing...
FX: Quill on parchment.
CRUN: Mrs. Spon, eleven
and fourpence.
BANNISTER: (Distant) Henry! Henreeee!
CRUN: What is it now,
Minnery?
BANNISTER: Don't you hear
Henry, there's no-one knocking at the door!
CRUN: Then I won't
answer it Min – you never know who it might not be.
BANNISTER: Ah! But it might
not be somebody we know.
CRUN: Oh, then I'd
better see who isn't there.
FX: Door opens.
GRYTPYPE: Good evening. My
name is Grytpype Thynne.
SECOMBE: (Distant. Cockney accent) ‘Ere – when am
I getting a part in this play then?
GRYTPYPE: Later Neddie –
later.[6]
SECOMBE: Page three ‘n no
posh chat yet!
GRYTPYPE: Yes, you’ll get
your posh chat later.
SECOMBE: ‘Ere, look at all your red
lines on my script. (Comes on mic)
‘Ere – page three! Well, it’s alright for some. Needle nardle noo! (Going off) Hern hern!
GRYTPYPE: Now get back in
the wings will you? [7]
Now Moriarty, will you do the talking while I take the part of Mister Crun?
MORIARTY: Alright Grytpype.
Now, are you ready?
CRUN: Yes I'm ready.
Now – what do you want?
MORIARTY: We want the job
as rent-collectors.
CRUN: Yes, well the job
is collecting the rent from some tenants of ours. You see they owe us eight
thousand pounds eleven and fourpence in arrears, of which a thousand pounds is
yours if you can collect it.
MORIARTY: OWWWWWW! A
thousand pounds! Owwowwi – we'll do it! What's the address?
CRUN: Death Grange,
Slaughter Hill.[8]
MORIARTY: That place!?
CRUN: Yes.
MORIARTY: We'll never do it
Grytpype! It's more than our life's worth, to go....
SECOMBE: (Approaching) What about me? What about
the acting part there! I can't stand round the back 'ere drinking brandy all
night – I been doin' my nut there.
GRYTPYPE: Why not? You
always do.
MORIARTY: Wait a minute – come
here little Neddie. Put down that goat-skin full of brandy and answer me one
question. Have you ever heard of Death Grange, Slaughter Hill?
SEAGOON: No. Is it a
holiday camp?
MORIARTY: Oww! (Aside) This is just the Charlie.
GRYTPYPE: Yes. I'll do the
talking Moriarty.
MORIARTY: (Aside) Right, and I'll put in the
punctuation.
GRYTPYPE: (Aloud) Neddie...!
MORIARTY: Comma.
GRYTPYPE: How would you
like to earn five pounds…
MORIARTY: Question mark.
GRYTPYPE: All you have to
do is to go and collect the rent from Death Grange…
MORIARTY: Full stop.
SEAGOON: Certainly. How do
I....
MORIARTY: Just get on this
bus.
SEAGOON: Does it go past
the house?
MORIARTY: Yes, but you can
jump off.
SEAGOON: Right. Goodbye.
FX: Bus gong.
GRAMS: Bus
drives off.
FLOWERDEW: Fares please! All
fares please!
SEAGOON: Slaughter Hill
please.
FLOWERDEW: Slaughter Hill?
Ooh, you're asking for trouble you are.
SEAGOON: No, I'm asking
for a ticket. (Laughs) Ha-ha-ha. You're
too tall for me. Ha-ha-ha. Ahem. Fourpenny one please.
FLOWERDEW: Fourpence? It's
sixpence to Slaughter Hill.
SEAGOON: Oh, right-o! (Aside) Little does she know that it's
actually ninepence.
FLOWERDEW: (Aside) Little does he know that I'm not
even the conductress on this bus.
ORCHESTRA: Busy
city traffic link.
GRAMS: Traffic
noise.
FLOWERDEW: (Calling) Slaughter 'ill!
SEAGOON: Well, stop the
bus then.
FLOWERDEW: Not likely! You won't
catch us stoppin' 'ere. You'll have to jump for it.
SEAGOON: Right! Hup!...
GRAMS: Splash
of body hitting water.
SELLERS: (As Uncle Mac.)[9]
Oh dear – children, look what has happened to poor Uncle Harry.
MILLIGAN: (As very dim child) He's fallen in the
water.[10]
GREENSLADE: On arrival in the
canal, Seagoon immediately inflated his Mae West,[11]
blew up his rubber dinghy, put on his water wings and sank like a stone. Which
of course brings us to Max Geldray.
MAX GELDRAY “Lulu’s Back In Town.” [12]
GRAMS: Water
splashing. Continue under.
SEAGOON: HELP! HOLP! HEELP
– or if you're French, AU SECOURS!
GRAMS: Motor-boat
approaching.
SEAGOON: What's that? It's
a nautical gramophone playing a recording of a motor-boat.
GRYTPYPE: Yes Neddie. We
heard your cries of help, holp, hilp and hoolp.
SEAGOON: Which one are you
answering?
GRYTPYPE: Heelp.
SEAGOON: Gad – you're
cutting it fine.
MORIARTY: Now Neddie – what's
all the noise about?
SEAGOON: I have it on good
authority that I'm drowning.
GRYTPYPE: For a fee of
one-and-six we can salvage you.
SEAGOON: Right.
FX: Penny in till.
GRYTPYPE: Thank you, and
here is a waterproof receipt.
SEAGOON: Just the thing
for my submerged accountant.[13]
And now – HELP! I'm going down for the third time!
MORIARTY: The second time.
That'll be another seven-pence.
SEAGOON: What for?
MORIARTY: For keeping count
of the number of times you go down.
FX: Penny in till.
MORIARTY: Thank you.
SEAGOON: Now please help
me out – I've paid you two shillings already.
GRYTPYPE: Two and a penny Neddie!
And that'll be another half-crown for keeping your account.
FX: Penny in till.
GRYTPYPE: Now let us help
you into the boat.
SEAGOON: (Straining) HUP!
GRAMS: Heavy
splashing.
MORIARTY: Now Neddie – do you
want to be taken ashore?
SEAGOON: Of course.
MORIARTY: One shilling
please.
SEAGOON: I – er, I haven't
any more money.
MORIARTY: No more money? Hard
luck!
SEAGOON: NO!
GRAMS: Splash
of body into water. Motorboat,
speeding up and away.
SEAGOON: HEEELP![14]
Dear listeners, left alone in the canal with no hope of rescue, I was forced to
swim to the bank and climb out.
GRAMS: Person
splashing in water.
SEAGOON: Huh! Gasp! Gasp!
CONSTABLE:[15] (Approaching) Hello, hello, hello!
What's this 'ere mate?
SEAGOON: Constabule!
CONSTABLE: Caught you in the
act didn't I my dear? Swimmin' in the canal, thereby crontravenin' bye-law thirtny-seven.
SEAGOON: But I had to swim
oh toothless one, otherwise – otherwise I'd have drowned.
CONSTABLE: Aren't no law in
this village against drownin' – only swimmin'. Swimmin's is a crinimals
offence.
SEAGOON: But Constabule…
CONSTABLE: You'll 'ave to
appear before the Magistrate my dear. Ain't nobody swam’d in the canal since
old Jim Prong fell in dead drunk in his long underwear.
SEAGOON: And did he have
to go in front of the Magistrate?
CONSTABLE: He was the
Magistrate.
LITTLE JIM: He fell in the water.
CONSTABLE: Ah! Say it again
my little darlin'.
LITTLE JIM: ‘Dat man fell in
the water.
CONSTABLE: You 'eard what 'e
said. Come on, you're orft to the Leet Court[16]
of Little Filthmuck – but don't worry my dear, I'll stand by you.
SEAGOON: Why?
CONSTABLE: It'll make me
look taller. Hahar!
SEAGOON: Duck's disease!
The curse of the Seagoons!
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic
chords.
GRAMS: Farmyard
noises, cows, pigs, chickens.
OMNES: Mumblings and rhubarbs.
FX: Gavel banging.
CONSTABLE: Silence! Silence
in cow-shed. The Court will stand for his worship the Lord Chief Magistrate of
Little Filthmuck.
MAGISTRATE:[17] Hello me old
dears. Now then, is everybody nice and comfortable?
OMNES: Aaargh! (etc)
SEAGOON: (Distant) I'm not!
MAGISTRATE: Nobody's worried
about you. 'Ere, and keep away from them pigs. We don't want them to catch
anything before the cattle show. Right, now I declare that I will try the
prisoner fairly and that I am entirely unbiased one way or the other. Right?
CONSTABLE: Right Sir.
MAGISTRATE: Good! (Aside) Now – Tom, just run across the
road and get some good strong rope. (Aloud)
Now then – Mister Spriggs, did the jury swear the hoath?
CONSTABLE: Yes Sir.
SPRIGGS: Yes Sir.
MAGISTRATE: Did the prisoner
swear?
CONSTABLE: I never 'eard
such language Sir.
MAGISTRATE: Right then.
Proceed with the hevidence.
CONSTABLE: Right Sir. Ahem.(Reading) The prisoner was apprehended while swimmin' in
the canal. When brought before me he was soaking wet and drippin' without due
care and attention. I asked him his name and he said it was 'R. Tishoo'
MAGISTRATE: Ah. Chinese
prisoner eh?
SEAGOON: What nonsense. My
name is.. . ah, ah, ah – (sneezes)
CONSTABLE: You see? He
admits it sir.
MAGISTRATE: Ah well, you've
heard all the hevidence. Now what shall we do to the prisoner?
YOKEL:[18] Hang 'im. Little
MAGISTRATE: Arrr, it'd be a
chance on catching up with 'em wouldn't it?
YOKEL: Ah – let's 'ang
'im now.
MAGISTRATE: Oh no. Come,
come, come!
YOKEL: Come on, ‘ang 'im
now!
CAST: Argument with Magistrate.
MAGISTRATE: No, no, no! You
can't 'ang 'im now – got to get the tickets printed and send the invitations
out.
SPRIGGS: Yes, and then there's
the village band. They'll have to get some practice in.
MAGISTRATE: Argh – they were
shockin' last time. It wasn't fair to the prisoner. I mean you could see he was
upset. Well this time we must pick a nice tune – something like, well…
MAGISTRATE
& CAST: (Sings) Where be that
there blackbird to?
I know
where he be,
He
knows I
An’ I
knows he,
He
knows I be after he,
Where
be that blackbird to?
Up
that wurzel tree.
Hoi!
OMNES: Applause, shouts of 'more!' etc.
MAGISTRATE: Thank you very
much – very kind of you, but save it for the 'anging if you don't mind.
SEAGOON: This is
ridiculous. You can't hang me!
MAGISTRATE: 'E's right you
know – he hasn't got a neck. Alright then, alright me dear, one hundred years
'ard labour.
SEAGOON: A hundred years –
I'll never do it!
MAGISTRATE: Well do as much
as you can.
SEAGOON: I insist on
appealing.
MAGISTRATE: Oh! Well you'll
'ave to see the Squire about that. You'll find him at Death Grange.
SEAGOON: Death Grange?
MAGISTRATE: Death Grange.
SEAGOON: Death Grange.
Deeaath Grange! What a bit of luck dear listeners – that's the place where I
have to collect the rents. I can kill two stones with one bird.
ELLINGTON: Alright – I’ll
show you the way old man. Just follow me...
RAY ELLINGTON - “Old Mother Hubbard” [19]
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic chords..
GRAMS: Whistling
wind. Hold under.
SEAGOON: By nightfall I
reached the Grange, a tall gaunt building with a belt at the back. Through a
crack in the portcullis I perceived two of the inmates and managed to overhear
their conversation.
BLUEBOTTLE: Eeeeeew – strainge!
Ohh… Do you like exercise Eccles? Why don't you answer me then?
ECCLES: (Off) He’s not here yet.
BLUEBOTTLE: (I am hearing
things.) Say something little friend.
LITTLE JIM: He's fallen in
the water.
BLUEBOTTLE: I'm glad I had
that company. Strain!
FX: Door opens.
ECCLES: Hello bottle!
What are you doing? Ah Bottle, when I was outside I heard you straining inside.
BLUEBOTTLE: Yes – I was
straining.
ECCLES: Were you
straining from the inside?
BLUEBOTTLE: I was straining
from the inside while I was inside – outside.
ECCLES: Yer – fine, fine.
I love all that Aldous Huxley stuff.[20]
Now then, what were you straining for Bottle?
BLUEBOTTLE: It's my new
correspondence course in muscle-type development. Straining the type heaves. Heaving-type
strains. Pull – tug – wrench – lift! Wicky – wooky – wooky! Makes funny face,
waits for applause – not a sausage. Pull-tug-lift!
FX: Spring.
BLUEBOTTLE: Ooooh! My
cardboard wrist-strap has flown off my muscular wrist.
ECCLES: Yer, it's gone
all the way down to your ankles without touching your body hasn't it? When did
you start this muscle-type course?
BLUEBOTTLE: I'm starting it
as soon as I can get this brown-paper parcel open. Cardboard heave!
FX: Cloth ripping.
ECCLES: Oooh! That's my
trousers!
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh look, there it
is – the
ECCLES: He must have had
the view from the bridge then.[21]
BLUEBOTTLE: It says here, “jaranteed
to put two inches on your chest”.
ECCLES: Let me see how
big your chest is before you start now. Lift up your arms.
BLUEBOTTLE: (straining
noises.) Eeeeeee …
ECCLES: 'Ere – let me
help you.
BLUEBOTTLE: Ta.
ECCLES & BLUEBOTTLE: (Straining
together) Eeeeeeh! Ah!
ECCLES: Let me see now.
Eight inches – including shoulders, yeah?
BLUEBOTTLE: Eight inches?
Cor, if I'd have known my chest was as big as that I would not have sent for
this silly stuff.
ECCLES: Eight inches
isn't very big you know, bottle.
BLUEBOTTLE: I know, but I was
breathing out. When I breathe in it is different you know – look! (Breaths in.) Ohhh…
ECCLES: Seven and a half.
BLUEBOTTLE: See the
difference?
ECCLES: Yeah!
BLUEBOTTLE: Now this
chest-expander can put two inches on.[22]
ECCLES: Two?
BLUEBOTTLE: Watch this. (Strains) Stretch, e-ee-eoh! Stretch,
e-ee-ooh! (Holding his breath.) Come
on – measure it quick!
ECCLES: Er … six and three-quarters.
BLUEBOTTLE: I been swindled!
Send it back my good man.
ECCLES: Very well Lord
Bluebottle. (aside) He's not really a Lord folks, but this is a
gentlemen's rest-home and we got to humour 'em here you know.
FX: Door opens.
BLOODNOK: (Approaching) Ah, doctor Eccles.
ECCLES: What is it my
good man?
BLOODNOK: (Aside)
He's not really a doctor ladies and gentlemen, only this is a gentlemen's rest home
and we have to humour them you know.
ABDUL: Major Bloodnok
Sir! Enemy are approaching Sir!
BLOODNOK: What! Sound the
alarm.
GRAMS: Bugle
blowing ‘charge’. Vary the speed wildly.
BLOODNOK: Bluebottle – man
the cannon! Eccles?
ECCLES: Yeah?
BLOODNOK: Man Bluebottle!
Can you see anything?
ECCLES: Yeah, there's a
man down there outside the moat.
SEAGOON: (Distant) I say, are you the Squire?
BLOODNOK: (Aside) Hold your fire lads. (Shouts) What tribe are you?
SEAGOON: Tribe? I'm Welsh.
BLOODNOK: That does it! FIRE!
GRAMS: Massive
rifle volley.
SEAGOON: Don't shoot – I'm
Neddie Seagoon! I want to talk to you.
BLOODNOK: He might be a
King's messenger – let him in. But make him give the password, which is 'I
don't know'.
ECCLES: 'I don't know'.
Okay.[23]
FX: Door opens.
ECCLES: Hello my good
man. Now then, what's the password?
SEAGOON: I don't know.
ECCLES: Ooh, he got it
right first time too.
FX: Door shuts.
LITTLE JIM: He fell in the
water that man. He fell in the water…[24]
BLOODNOK: Thank heaven you
got through, young ensign. Now, any news of General Gordon?
SEAGOON: General Gordon?
He was killed at
BLOODNOK: What - this is
terrible! No reinforcements. We shall never hold out against all these savage
brown tribesmen.[26] (Crushed) Eccles?
ECCLES: (Softly) Yeah Major?
BLOODNOK: (Frenzied) FIRE!
GRAMS: Massive
rifle volley.
BLOODNOK: And Abdul – pour
me another brandy will you?
ABDUL: I am sorry Sir. All
the European-type brandy has all been drunk Sir.
BLOODNOK: What? Oh buwani[27]
– this means a horrible death by thirst!
SEAGOON: But there's tub
full of water over there.
BLOODNOK: We can't use
that!
SEAGOON: Why not?
BLOODNOK: No soap!
SEAGOON: Ah. How about
that well?
BLOODNOK: I think it's dry.
SEAGOON: Well you can soon
find out by the echo, listen – (Shouts) Hellooooo!
GRAMS: Recording (lots of echo) – Seagoon: Helloooooo!
SEAGOON: (Shouts) Heeeeeeeeeelp!
GRAMS: Recording (with echo) – Seagoon: Heeeeeeeeeelp!
SEAGOON: Good heavens!
BLOODNOK: What?
SEAGOON: There's a man
down there calling for help!
SEAGOON: (Shouts) Are you all right?
GRAMS: Recording (with echo) – Seagoon: Are you alright?
SEAGOON: (Shouts) Yes, I'm all right!
GRAMS: Recording (with echo) – Seagoon: Yes, I’m alright!
SEAGOON: Ah, no need to
bother – he's all right.
ABDUL: Argh – Dardi![28]
The North-West frontier tribesmen are attacking again without Jack.
BLOODNOK: What? FIRE!
GRAMS: Massive
volley of rifle fire.
SEAGOON: Major Bloodnok –
please, what's all this about tribesmen attacking, here – in the middle of
BLOODNOK:
SEAGOON: Sun-drenched
mountains – where?
BLOODNOK: Outside. I never
allow them in the house.
SEAGOON: But this is
BLOODNOK: So you can see
them too can you? Abdul, the mirage is stronger than ever today!
Abdul: Major – look! Two
thousand tribesmen are attacking.
BLOODNOK: What? FIRE!!
GRAMS: Massive
rifle volley.
SEAGOON: Major, I can't
see any tribesmen attacking.
BLOODNOK: That's funny –
neither can
SEAGOON: Ahem. Major
Bloodnok, I've come for your back rent amounting to eight thousand pounds,
eleven and fourpence.
BLOODNOK: Pardon?
SEAGOON: Your back rent –
eight thousand pounds, eleven and fourpence.
BLOODNOK: Er, I can't hear
you. That blasted brass band's started again.
SEAGOON: Brass band? I
can't hear them.
BLOODNOK: Have a drink of
this whisky.
SEAGOON: (Drinks)
ORCHESTRA: Brass
band playing circus music..
SEAGOON: (over) FIRE!
GRAMS: Massive
rifle volley.
SEAGOON: That stopped
them.
BLOODNOK: The tribesmen
have broken for lunch. Abdul – what's the total today?
ABDUL: A hundred and forty-eight
bottles of brandy sir. Shall I get some more?
BLOODNOK: Yes, yes, yes –
certainly. No! No! No! I mean – certainly not! I don't want it to become a
habit.[30]
I'll tell me what you can do, though…
ABDUL: What sir?
BLOODNOK: (Screams) FIRE!
GRAMS: Massive
volley of rifle fire.
SEAGOON: Major please – I
must speak to you. The people in the village are going to hang me!
BLOODNOK: I know – I've
been asked to do the catering.
SEAGOON: But they're going
to hang me for nothing.
BLOODNOK: That's damned
charitable of them! They usually charge all kinds of things you know.
SEAGOON: (Desperate)[31]
Please – can't you sign a reprieve for me?
BLOODNOK: I suppose I
could, for a consideration.
SEAGOON: All right. How
much?
BLOODNOK: Well, let me see
– shall we say, um… eight thousand pounds, eleven and fourpence?
SEAGOON: Aaaooaaah. (Continue)
ORCHESTRA: Closing
theme.
GREENSLADE: That was the Goon
Show, a BBC recorded programme featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike
Milligan, with Bernard Miles, the Ray Ellington Quartet, Max Geldray and the orchestra
conducted by Wally Stott. Script by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens,
announcer Wallace Greenslade, programme produced by Pat Dixon.
YTI
