INSURANCE – THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN
GOON SHOW: TLO 23565
7TH SERIES: No 21
BROADCAST: 28 Feb 1957 [1]
Script by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens.
GREENSLADE: This
is the BBC.
GRAMS: Screaming female fans at Elvis concert.
GREENSLADE: Right
– steady girls, steady! This is your old Wallace the ‘pelvis’ again with a real
hot modern rhythm for you. So let’s get ‘hep’[2] with my
latest recording, “See You Later Alligator.”[3]
GRAMS: Massed applause.
ORCHESTRA: Rock
and Roll introduction – fast.
GREENSLADE: (Sings)
See you later alligator,
After
a while crocodile.
See
you later alligator,
After
a while crocodile.
Cause
you’re in my way, my way now,
Don’t
you know you cramp my style.
SEAGOON: Stop!
Stop you mad fool Greenslade. Are you out of your mind?[4] Take
off those false crepe-hair side-burns and remove that elastic leg support.
GREENSLADE: I
can’t. I’ve got haricot beans.
SEAGOON: You
mean varicose veins.
GREENSLADE:
Haricot beans – I’ve just been shopping.
SEAGOON: Mr.
Greenslade, I’d like you to bear in mind that you’re in the company of cultured
gentlefolk, so belt up or you’ll get a dirty big bunch of fives up your conk.
GREENSLADE: Now,
the highly esteemed and pressed Goon Show.
PIANO INTRO: Sellers
awful piano playing. (Extended) [5]
SEAGOON: Yes,
with that haunting Seller’s theme sounding the death knell of all piano postal
tuition courses, we present this week’s play entitled – (and we quote from this
suicide note)…
SELLERS: [6] ‘Insurance
– the White Man’s Burden’.
GRAMS: Scratchy violin solo with piano
accompaniment.
GREENSLADE: Scene
one – the British Zoo. A flannelled fool approaches the penguin pool.
GRAMS: Cheerful school children on zoo
excursion.
SEAGOON: Ah, good
morning zoological keeper.
WILLIUM: Good
morning flannelled fool.
SEAGOON: What a
lovely day for a zoo.
WILLIUM: Yes.
That’s why I let it out this morning.
SEAGOON: Ha,
ha, ha, ha! A merry zoological-type joke.
WILLIUM: Yes.
SEAGOON: A big
crowd of people here today.
WILLIUM: Yes, I
know. We let ‘em in for the animals to look at, you see. Trouble is we have to
lock the boa constrictors up so the kids don’t get at ‘em, you know. Lost four
boa constrictors last year – kids taking ‘em home all the time… hang the
laundry on their backs there… bloke come
down the road he told me about, eh? (Raves)
SEAGOON: Well
done. Now tell me, what do you call those little black and white creatures in
the penguin pool?
WILLIUM: Well I call that one Jim, that one’s Terence and that’s
Penelope over there.
SEAGOON: What
do you call that one sitting at the piano?
WILLIUM: I call him a pianist, mate.
SEAGOON: Don’t
tell me that penguin plays the piano!
WILLIUM: Well,
I ...er …
GRAMS: Music hall intro. on piano; penguin
squawks tune. [7]
SEAGOON: Good
heavens! And he sings as well.
WILLIUM: Yes –
and them’s all his own words too you know.
SEAGOON: Dear
listeners, I realised that the great crowd was due to this piano playing
penguin. If I could get him on the stage I’d make a fortune.
GREENSLADE:
Immediately Seagoon went to a nearby house and put up a brass plate inscribed
‘Curator of Birds – Inquire within.’
FX: Quick knock. Door opens.
SPRIGGS: Good
morning. Come in. Come i-innnn.
SEAGOON: I want
to buy a penguin.
SPRIGGS: You
look like the type – but only one penguin? I’m afraid, I’m afra-aaaid we only
sell them wholesale.
SEAGOON:
Alright then, I’ll buy one wholesale. How much are they?
SPRIGGS: How
much are they? (Sings) How much are the-eeeey! I’ll just look in this
catalogue.
SEAGOON: I don’t
want a cat, I want a penguin. Look in the penguin-log.
SPRIGGS: It’s a
lie – I didn’t write that one. Nevertheless I shall look in this penguin log. Where’s
my saw?[8] (sings)
Hoawaoaoaoaw! Ahhhh! Here we are. (Sings) Here we ar-rrreeee!
SEAGOON: You
found it?
SPRIGGS: No – I was just telling you where we were.
SEAGOON: Thank
heavens – I can throw away this map of China.
SPRIGGS: I’ll
just make out this bill of sale. How do you spell penguin?
SEAGOON: P – N
– guin.
SPRIGGS: How do
you pronounce it?
SEAGOON: P – E
– N – G – U – I – N.
SPRIGGS: Thank
you. Let me see now – I’ll write that
down. E – Z – L – X – Q. Drat this pen – it can’t spell!
SEAGOON: Wait a
minute. Perhaps it’s the ink that can’t spell. Let me taste it. (Tasting)
P – E – N – G … No, no. This ink’s alright.
SPRIGGS: Thank
you. Now then – oh oh oh ohhh! Here’s the one Jim. The name’s Tom – Tom
Penguin. Pianoforte and penguin vocalist. (Sings) Melody divine he
sings.
SEAGOON: That’s
him. How much?
SPRIGGS: How
much? Twenty pounds sterling.
SEAGOON: That’s
expensive for a second hand penguin.
SPRIGGS: Ah,
but he’s just been done up.
SEAGOON: Who
by?
SPRIGGS: The husband of the penguin he’s been carrying on with.
SEAGOON: Twenty
pounds? I’ve only got eighteen shillings sterling.
GRAMS: Double whoosh.
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie, we just heard your bank statement on the wireless.
SEAGOON: The
two strangers were dressed in immaculate hand sewn rags with newspaper parcels
to match.
MORIARTY: Senti
amo caro.[9] Listen
Neddie – and here is a hand carved Arab sock as a token of our goodwill. Aowawawawawawoohaw!
SEAGOON: What
would you with me, gentlemen?
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie, my steaming French friend has come here to make you a present lad.
MORIARTY: Yes,
yes… and here is a sample of it in this bottle.
SEAGOON: It
looks like water.
GRYTPYPE: Yes,
but no ordinary water this, lad. Partake and savour the bouquet.
FX: Cork popping.
SEAGOON: (Tasting)
Good heavens! This is English Channel nineteen-oh-two.
GRYTPYPE: One of
their best years Neddie.
SEAGOON:
Really?
GRYTPYPE: Yes – and there’s more where that came from, wasn’t there
Moriarty?
MORIARTY: Plenty
more!
GRYTPYPE: Allow
me to present the sommelier who was responsible for bottling that rare vintage
sea-water, Count Jim ‘Grape’ Labour-exchange Moriarty, leaper supreme and
all-England crab champion.[10]
SEAGOON: I am
both honoured to know a man of such exquisite boots.
MORIARTY: Ooo
hoo houi – merkie mon ami. Merkie. Merkie, and here in return – free of charge,
is the deeds to the English type channel.
SEAGOON: You
mean you’re offering me free of charge the deeds to the English channel?
GRYTPYPE: (He
heard you Moriarty.)
MORIARTY: Do you
accept the English channel then – le channel anglais?
SEAGOON: Yes –
I only hope I can live up to it.
GRYTPYPE: I’m
sure you can Neddie. However, one slight formality Neddie – for your own
protection of course, the joke-al style of protection – you must insure it lad.
SEAGOON: Insure
it against what?
GRYTPYPE: Fire Neddie.
MORIARTY: Yes,
fire Neddie. And fortunately for vous we happen to be strolling insurance
agents of no fixed percentage.
SEAGOON: What
is the premium?
MORIARTY: Tell him!
GRYTPYPE: Well,
let me see – you’ve got eighteen shillings haven’t you?
SEAGOON: Yes.
GRYTPYPE: Well
that’s it. Eighteen shillings in sterling lad.
SEAGOON: How
much do I get if the channel catches fire?
GRYTPYPE:
Forty-eight thousand pounds!
SEAGOON: Where
do I sign?
GRYTPYPE: On the dotted line of this cheque I’ve just found in your
pocket here.
FX: Pen nib on paper.
MORIARTY: Er…
don’t worry to fill in the amount, we’ll – er, fill in that later. (Goes off
singing.) April in Paree…[11] I can
see it all now!
SEAGOON: Dear
listeners. These men think I’m a fool. Little do they know that the moment
their backs are turned I’ll be down to that channel, set fire to it and collect
the forty-eight thousand nicker![12]
GRYTPYPE: Right.
To give him time, here is Max ‘Worried’ Geldray and his electric nose.
SEAGOON: Right,
round the back for the ‘ol brandy there.
GRAMS: Boots
running off at speed.
MAX GELDRAY - “I Like to Recognise the Tune” [13]
GRAMS: Wind and
waves.
SEAGOON: I
wonder how many listeners noticed that while Max Geldray was playing, I caught
a road to Norman’s Bay Halt and am now addressing you from the beach at
Pevensey Bay, where the great English channel meets the great English sewerage
system.[14]
GREENSLADE: And so
saying, Seagoon prepared to ignite the English channel – devil that he was.
GRAMS: Further burst of wind and waves.
SEAGOON: Yes,
it was bitterly cold as I walked through the thick winter snow to the water’s
edge. Suddenly I noticed, lazing in a deck chair, a gentleman in ankle length
swimming trunks, sunglasses and sun-tan oil.
ECCLES: Heello!
Well, well, well, my good man – are you on holiday too?
SEAGOON: With
that statement folks I realised that the case of ‘The Crown verses Eccles’ was
proven.
ECCLES: What a
lie. What a day this has been! What a day!
(Sings) With a smile on my face
I
belong to the human race… (raves) [15]
What a day! What a scorcher of a day
it’s been.
SEAGOON: This
is a scorcher?
ECCLES: This
is a scorcher.
SEAGOON: Then
what’s the snow doing on the beach?
ECCLES: It’s
on holiday as well.
(Sings) England my island
home
Land
of the free…[16]
SEAGOON:
Listen, blue shivering frost covered figure, what gives you the idea that it’s
hot today?
ECCLES: Well,
my grandad he phoned up this morning and he said “Out of bed, lad! Out of bed!
It’s a beautiful day.”
SEAGOON: Where
is he?
ECCLES: He was phoning from Bermuda and who am I to argue?
SEAGOON: Dear
grandson Eccles, sit down on this fossilised shooting stick.
ECCLES: (Agony)
Oooooo! That’s an old gag but a new stick. Thank you my good man.
SEAGOON: Now
let me put you right before you freeze to death. It’s summer in Bermuda but
it’s winter over here.
ECCLES: You
can’t fool me Neddie. Look at the reading on this thermometer.
SEAGOON: A
hundred and thirty degrees?
ECCLES: Yer.
SEAGOON: This
thermometer has a temperature. We must get it to a doctor at once!
ECCLES: And
with that remark folks the case of ‘The Crown verses Neddie Seagoon’ was
proven.
SEAGOON: A-hem,
a-hem.
ECCLES: Your
turn. (Sings &c) Oh, the thermometer.
SEAGOON: Wait a
minute. You took the thermometer out of a hot water bottle.
ECCLES: Of
course. I always keep it in there. If I didn’t it would drop below zero and
we’d freeze to death.
SEAGOON: Are
you the Chancellor of the Exchequer?
ECCLES: No.
Oh, the Chancellor of the Exchequer! Oh well, I can understand because I’ve
often been mistaken.
SEAGOON: For
the Chancellor?
ECCLES: No, I’ve just often been mistaken, that’s all. Well, I’d better
get back to the match factory.
SEAGOON:
Matches!
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic
chords.
SEAGOON: Curse!
I’ve forgotten to bring any. Perhaps I can make use of this maladjusted human
barometer. A-hem, a-hem, a-hem. You work in a match factory don’t you?
ECCLES: Yeh.
I’m a dipper.
SEAGOON: You
put the heads on?
ECCLES: No, I
put the gloves on. They’re boxing matches. Ha ha ha ha! (Laughs &c) Thank
you my friends. It’s all free. Ta!
SEAGOON: Get in
this catapult.
ECCLES: Ok.
GRAMS: Whoosh.
ECCLES: Owwww!
GRAMS: Distant splash.
SEAGOON: Now to
burn the channel.
ECCLES: (Distant) He –
eeeeeeelp! Help, I’m drowning. I’m drowning in the water.
CRUN: Min.
Min. Min… Wake up Min.
CRUN &
BANNISTER: Rhythmic waking up.
BANNISTER: Get
over your side of the bed. I was having a lovely dream Henry – I dreamt I was
asleep.
SEAGOON: Those
voices are coming from the Pevensey Bay life-boat shed.
CRUN: Min,
Min, Min, Min, wake up Min.
BANNISTER: Ok,
buddy. I’ll wake up!
CRUN: You
heard what the gentleman said. Our voices are coming from the Pevensey
life-boat shed.
BANNISTER: Oh, we’d
better get over there as quickly as possible.
ECCLES: (Distant)
He – eeeeeelp! Help folks, I’m drowning.
CRUN: What did
you say sir?
ECCLES: (Distant)
I said, he-eeeelp, he-eeeelp, he-eeeeelp! I’m drowning. He-eeeelp!
CRUN: I
can’t hear you sir.
ECCLES: (Distant)
Just a minute.
GRAMS: Splashing. Growing quickly louder.
(Under
FX)
FX: Boots hurriedly
running up wooden stairs. Rapid knocking on door. Door opens.
CRUN: Yes?
ECCLES: (Close)
He-eeeelp!
CRUN: Thank
you. Get back in the water and we’ll be out in a flash. Min, Min-Min- Minnie-Min,
prepare the life-boat.
BANNISTER:
Alright Henry. Quick. We must hurry, a man’s drowning.
CRUN: Yes.
Get that long piece of wood and lay it down. Now that’ll be the keel.
FX: Genteel hammering.
BANNISTER: Right
Henry.
CRUN: That’s
right Min. Nail those pieces of wood on each side with all speed!
FX: Genteel hammering continues under.
BANNISTER: (Hot
rhythm singing and hammering.)
CRUN: Min,
Min! Please leave off that sinful brown singing. Leave it to coxswain Ray
Ellington.
SEAGOON: Yes
girl. Get your skates on and round the back for the ‘ol brandy there.
BANNISTER:
Ooooooo!
RAY ELLINGTON – “I Reckon it’s Love.”
GREENSLADE: If listeners with pneumatic drills
will kindly lay them aside, they’ll be able to hear this announcement. A-hem.
Mister Seagoon, hell bent on burning the English channel, stoops low over a
tinder box and struggles to make a fire.
GRAMS: Seagulls. Distant waves.
FX: Matches striking.
SEAGOON: Curse
this wind. I should never eaten those balloons.
GRAMS: Fire
engine pulling up. Fire bell.
BLOODNOK:
Aeeeeeoooooough! Oh! Oh! So – caught you in the act you incendiary fool you!
SEAGOON: The
speaker was dressed as a fireman, riding a tricycle and carrying a photograph
of a fire bell.
BLOODNOK: Allow
me to introduce myself with this gramophone record.
GRAMS: Recording
– BLOODNOK: “Have you put me
on?”
BLOODNOK: Yes!
Tell him who I am.
GRAMS: Recording – BLOODNOK: “A-hem.
This is Major Dennis Bloodnok, winner of the Golden Richard [17] and Eye-Watering Champion supreme.”
BLOODNOK: So that’s who you are.
SEAGOON: No. That’s who you are!
BLOODNOK: What!
Nonsense. I am sir, the fire prevention officer for the Pevensey sewerage farm.
SEAGOON: Now
listen Bloodnok…
BLOODNOK: Don’t
talk to me about ‘listen!’ I’ve got better things…
SEAGOON: Ten
thousand pounds is yours if you help me set fire to the English channel. Here’s
a shilling on account.
FX: Cash register. Coin in till.
BLOODNOK: Thank
you. Now, you ahead lad and I’ll turn a deaf ear.
SEAGOON: I
didn’t know you had a deaf ear.
BLOODNOK: Yes, I
found it on the floor of a barber’s shop in Penge. Now Neddie…
ECCLES: (Distant)
He – eeeeeelp folks! He-eeeelp.
BLOODNOK: Shut
up you fool.
ECCLES: (Distant)
Shut up you fool but he-eeeelp!
BLOODNOK: Shut
up as well. Neddie, light that channel.
SEAGOON: Right.
Let’s start a fire with these two twigs here.
FX: Matches.
BLUEBOTTLE:
Yeeougheeehehe! You rotten swines you – those are my legs! I was practicing knot tying under a pebble
when my legs were attacked.
SEAGOON: Why –
it’s a pudding bowl haircut with loose boots.
BLUEBOTTLE: Do not
insult Bluebottle. You do not know that I am the brains behind the Finchley
Mother’s Christmas Drawers.
ECCLES: (Distant)
He – eeeeeelp!
BLUEBOTTLE: Shut
up Eccles!
ECCLES: (Distant)
Shut up Eccles but he – eeeeeelp!
BLUEBOTTLE: Shut
up Eccles! Shut up Eccles! If you don’t shut up I’ll hit you with this water.
GREENSLADE:
Meantime in the Royal Suite at the Y.M.C.A. at Eastbourne…
VIOLIN SOLO: (Very
amateurish with lots of out-of-tune notes.)
GRYTPYPE: Ah,
play on Moriarty. How delightful. Who wrote that tune?
MORIARTY: Fritz Kreisler.[18]
GRYTPYPE: You’re
not going to let him get away with that are you?
MORIARTY: Okay
little Grytpype, we’ve got Neddie’s eighteen shillings insurance money and the
world lies before our feet, and there’s room for it…
FX: Knocking on door.
GRYTPYPE: Quick
Moriarty, cover the soap dish.
MORIARTY: But
it’s empty.
GRYTPYPE: We
don’t want people to know that. Entrays, silvoo plate!
FX: Door opens.
SEAGOON: Hands
up you devils. That fire insurance you sold me was a fake.
GRYTPYPE: What
do you mean Neddie?
SEAGOON: This
morning I accidentally dropped fifty lighted matches in the channel and it
wouldn’t accidentally catch fire.
MORIARTY: What!
GRYTPYPE: It –
er… it must be damp Neddie.
MORIARTY: Yes.
That’s it Neddie – the English channel must be damp. It’s all this rain we’ve
been having.
SEAGOON:
Gentlemen, I want my eighteen shillings back or I aim to shoot to fire to kill.
BLUEBOTTLE: Yes,
we aim to shoot to fire to kill. BANG we will go. BANG…
SEAGOON: Get
out….
GRAMS: Body falling into water.
LITTLE JIM: He’s
fallen in the water.
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie, you devil instrument incarnate. Why did you throw that child into the
sea?
SEAGOON: To
give brown Milligan a chance to say his new catch phrase. That’s why.[19]
GRYTPYPE: Now
look here Neddie…
ECCLES: (Distant)
He – eeeeeelp!
GRYTPYPE: Shut
up you brown fool!
MORIARTY:
Neddie, you must give the channel a chance to dry out.
GRYTPYPE: Yes, I
tell you – you flannelled fool. One hot summer and the English channel will be
a fire trap.
SEAGOON: Well,
alright. I’ll wait till then.
GRYTPYPE: Thank
heavens. That’s put him off.
MORIARTY: Yes,
that’s put him off. That’s the end of our bit of the story.
GRYTPYPE: Alas.
Alas.
SEAGOON: Let’s
listen to the rest of it on the wireless, eh?
GRAMS: Radio set being tuned in.
GRAMS: (Recording) GREENSLADE: Insurance –
the White Man’s Burden part three.
GRAMS: Distant waves. Sea breeze.
GRAMS: (Recording) GREENSLADE: With Neddie
fobbed off, coxswains Crun and Bannister pull Eccles ashore.
ECCLES: (Approaching) Oooohh! Oh, thank you Min and Hen for
pulling me out of the English channel. Another month out there and I’d have
drowned of starvation.
CRUN: Min, would
you join me in the next line?
BANNISTER: Yes, I’ll
help you Henry.
CRUN & BANNISTER: Yes. We’d
never have got the boat out to you if we hadn’t pumped a thousand gallons of
oil on the sea to calm it. Yes Henry. We’d better set fire to it to get rid of
it.
FX: Match being struck.
GRAMS: Loud
explosion. Flames etc.
MORIARTY:
Grytpype! Turn that radio off. Didn’t you hear? The channel’s on fire!
SEAGOON: What a
bit of luck. My policy’s matured. FORTY-EIGHT THOUSAND POUNDS!
GRYTPYPE: Yes!
(Moriarty, pack the jam tins and open the door.)
MORIARTY: I’m
off.
GRYTPYPE: Yes
Neddie. Forty-eight thousand pounds. But before we pay you the forty-eight
thousand pounds you must – for your own protection, insure it.
SEAGOON:
Against what?
GRYTPYPE:
Against this Neddie. HANDS-UP-AND-TURN-ROUND!
GRAMS: Massed boots running away.
SEAGOON: Curse!
Fooled by insurance the white man’s burden, and the Goon Show’s end.
COMMISSIONAIRE: Your
brandy bottle’s at the stage door sir.
SEAGOON:
Thanks.
GRAMS: Pair of boots running off.
GREENSLADE: Well,
you can tell it’s getting near the end of the series can’t you? Good night.
ORCHESTRA: End
theme.
GREENSLADE: That
was the Goon Show, a BBC recorded programme featuring Peter Sellers, Harry
Secombe and Spike Milligan, with the Ray Ellington Quartet, Max Geldray and the
orchestra conducted by Wally Stott. Script by Spike Milligan and Larry
Stephens, announcer Wallace Greenslade, the programme produced by Pat Dixon.
ORCHESTRA: Playout.
YTI 