THE NADGER PLAGUE
GOON SHOW: TLO 14585
7TH SERIES: No 3
1st BROADCAST: 18 Oct 1956 [1]
Script
by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens.
GREENSLADE:
This
is the BBC light programme.
SECOMBE: Mister Greenslade,
never mind the commercials mate. Enough of this splin splan slon and hern hern.
Give us a magic lantern lecture on this week’s show.
GREENSLADE: As you will sir.
FX: Lantern slide operation. [2]
GREENSLADE: Ladies and
gentlemen, on inserting the first colour slide we perceive the title to be,
‘The Great Nadger Plague.’
GRAMS: INTRODUCTION on the PIANOFORTE by MR.
SELLERS.
SELLERS: (Ancient) According to the next slide it
was in the year
SPRIGGS: Ooooh Jim! … Men were cut down in the prim of their prime.
They
went down like pins of nine. (Ooh!)
Oh! Oh hirror! Oh horror![3]
We present the musical lantern slide which follows
immediately, Jim.
FX: Lantern slide operation.
ORCHESTRA:
BUCOLIC INTRODUCTION ON FLUTE
& HARP. BANNISTER ON VOCALS. (Continue under.)
GREENSLADE: As you see ladies
and gentlemen, this beautiful slide shows the scene on the eve of the disaster
– the stiddley hume of Lord Seagoon’s hountry coose at Ninfield in the sounty
of Cussex.[4] The
year,
GRAMS:
Croquet balls in play. Distant birdlife.
SEAGOON: (Laughs &c) Oh, what ploon of plun!
Like croquet Lady Platt, you have frecked me ball and merry crackie card. Ha ha
ha! See you later m’carte. [5]
THROAT: Right darling.
SEAGOON: Begone then,
delicate creature. But see – who approaches?
ELLINGTON: I pray pard your
plin, me Lord Seagoon.
SEAGOON: Ah, me Lord
Footman. How tarries?
ELLINGTON: Oh, a quill of
quolls and quarms. But I splon – I deviate. Two ragged aristocrats await you.
SEAGOON: Usher them on in.
Or in on. Strike out that which does not apply.
GRYTPYPE: (Approaching) There’s no need, me Lud.
We took the liberty of striking it out ourselves.
SEAGOON: (Close) The voice came from one of two
tall naked men.
GRYTPYPE: Yes. Pray pardon
our ‘al fresco’ appearance, but our tailor is ill.
SEAGOON: What’s his name?
GRYTPYPE: Al Fresco.
SEAGOON: I’m not of humours
to know that.
GRYTPYPE: Would you just step
over here by this reeking unmade bed.
SEAGOON: Yes. Who is he?
GRYTPYPE: This bed is – (and
I quote from this prison discharge paper,) the Compte de Jim ‘Reeking’
Moriarty, Knight of a Hundred Stars, Cheval de Notre Caleur [6] and fish
potter extraordinary.
MORIARTY: Ah, Lord Seagoon. Your humble…
SEAGOON: You’re revolting.
MORIARTY: WHAT?!
GRYTPYPE: And now i’forth,
allow me to introduce myself. Moriarty, announce my name.
MORIARTY: Certaine-mate. (Boxing announcer) Oh, Ladies and
Gentlemen, announcing in the brown corner at two hundred pounds four shillings
and eightpence my Lord Hercules Grydpype Thynne.
GRYTPYPE: Thank you Moriarty.
Neddie we come from
SEAGOON: MY LORDS! …you
couldn’t have come to a better place.
GRYTPYPE: We could have, but
we didn’t have the money.
SEAGOON: You jest i’ faith.
GRYTPYPE: You’re jest a
charlie. Hahahaha!
SEAGOON: What! What what
what what what what what what![7] Yes, a
chamber for you. (Calls out) Othello,
smoke out the bedding in room number six. It’s the ticks you know. We have them
every year about this time. What is the time?
GRYTPYPE:
SEAGOON Gad! They’re late
this year. (Horror) Arrrrgh! Dear
listeners, at that moment the two men turned to go to their room and I observed
the seats of their trousers were burned out.[8] I knew
that sign only too well – it meant that these men were stricken with the
dreaded nadger plague. (Screams) Arrrrgh!
Run for it! The nadgers! The plague!
OMNES: The plague! &c
ORCHESTRA: DRAMATIC LINK
GREENSLADE: Listeners will no
doubt be puzzled at Seagoon’s terror on seeing a pair of burnt-out trouser
seats. To find the explanation I will insert another coloured lantern slide
which shows the good people of Ninfield assembled in the Corn Exchange.
FX: Lantern slide operation.
OMNES: Various country mumbles and Sussex rhubarbs.
FX: Gavel on bench.
CRUN: Gentlemen. Lord
Seagoon is right in calling this meeting.
SPRIGGS: Well said Jim.
CRUN: As chief apothek… apo… apothecary
of Ninfield, I have been studying the humours of the trousers[9] for many
years, and I can tell you that the two gentlemen staying at Lord Seagoon’s
house… (fearfully) are clear cases of
the dreaded nadger plague.
GRAMS: Duck
quacks. Horse neighs. Chicken clucks.
Cow moos.
SEAGOON: Citizens of
Ninfield,[10]
I must warn you. Beware the moment the seats of your trousers start to burn.
Then you’ve got it!
SPRIGGS: Oh tell me sir –
how can we avoid catching this dreaded malady?
SEAGOON: There is no cure
Jim, but there is a preventative measure. As the disease only strikes the seat
of the trousers it is best that we desist from wearing any.
SPRIGGS: Oh, hirrors of
horrors! But would it not be unwise for the men of Ninfield to walk abroad
without their nether garments? Remember, there’s a hard frost in the morning.
SEAGOON: He’s right. We
can’t risk damage to our crops.[11] However,
I have an alternative. As the seat of the trousers is the vulnerable part, that
portion shall be cut out.
BLOODNOK: This is a lot of
rubbish. Nadgers? I’ve never heard of it – it’s all fish and vinegar do you
hear![12] (Sniffs) Can you smell…(Terror) Oh, me britches! Oohhh!
SEAGOON: Run for your lives!
The nadgers!
OMNES: (Screaming) The nadgers!
GRAMS: Screaming.
Boots running away at speed.
ORCHESTRA: DRAMATIC CHORDS
GREENSLADE: Dear viewers, as
you will observe on this lantern slide Lord Bloodnok had indeed been stricken
by the nadgers.[13]
Now here on the next slide you’ll see the men of the village filing past Doctor
Crun to have the seats of their trousers removed.
FX: Scissors snipping.
SEAGOON: Oops! Mind how you
go Doctor Crun.
CRUN: I’m sorry. Next
please. Your name sir?
GELDRAY: Max Geldray,
English gentleman.
CRUN: Ploogie!
MAX GELDRAY: "John's
Idea" [14]
GREENSLADE: That was Max
Geldray, BBC Contract artist now under the threat of death. However with the
seat of his trousers removed he can now face the world with a smile. Now the nadger
Plague – coloured slide number four.
FX: Lantern slide operation.
MORIARTY
& GRYTPYPE:
(Laugh &c)
MORIARTY: You naughty
Gright-pype Thighne. The way they all run away from the manor, eh?
GRYTPYPE: Yes. That was a brilliant
idea of mine that you thought of – burning those fake nadger holes in our
trousers. Now put on that lantern slide of Lord Seagoon’s treasure chest.
MORIARTY: Right.
FX: Lantern slide operation.
MORIARTY: There. What a
beautiful picture.
GRYTPYPE: Isn’t it.
MORIARTY: (Strains) I can’t get the chest open.
GRYTPYPE: Well try this
lantern slide of a bunch of keys.
FX: Keys jangling.
MORIARTY: Oh! Voila, voila!
They all fit perfectly.[15]
GRYTPYPE: And look what’s
inside! A lantern slide of four pounds seven shillings in coppers.
MORIARTY: (Raves)[16] Then
it’s true. He is a millionaire.
FX: Distant hand bell.
ECCLES: (Distant) Hear ye! Hear ye! Proclamation;
“Wherewithal the plague having come to Ninfield…”
GRYTPYPE: (Whispers) The plague? He must be
joking.
ECCLES: (Distant) No I’m not! “The King has
decreed [17]
that the village shall be put in quarentyne and in quarantine and surrounded by
a cordon of gened…. cordon of soldiers.” [18]
GRYTPYPE: What! Let’s get out
of here.
MORIARTY: Awwwww!
GRAMS: Double
whoosh.
FX: Door opens.
SEAGOON: Curse! Just as the
listeners already know, Thynne and Moriarty in fake nadger trousers have made
off with my entire fortune in coppers. Pausing only for an English summer, I
leap on my favourite Arab. Hup…
GRAMS: Penguin-type
quacks.
SEAGOON: Ahh! That’s better.
Now, tango after them!
GRAMS: Recording of Tango (piano, violin
and bass combo). Overlay with galloping horses hooves. Speed the whole thing up
and fade into distance. Pause. Cockerel crowing.
GREENSLADE: We included that
recording of a cockerel for people who like that sort of thing. And now, here
is a recording for people who don’t like that sort of thing. [19]
MILLIGAN: (Cockerel imitation.)
FX: Pistol shot.
MILLIGAN: (Cockerel.) Aaagh!
GREENSLADE: If listeners will
stand on their beds and face north they’ll be able to see a portion of the
ensuing lantern slide, which shows a sentry on duty at the nadger-ridden
GRAMS: Distant
owl.
BLUEBOTTLE: (Approaching) Halt! Who goes there? Oh,
it is a little owl. Hello little owl. Thinks – I will make up a poetry up.
Hello
little owl.
I
can hear you ‘owl little howl.
(Going off) You little lovely howl…
MORIARTY: (Very close) Shh. Shh. Shh! Look
Grytpype. Look over there. That…it’s a… what is it?
GRYTPYPE: It’s er… Hand me
that book on British wildlife. Let’s see. Lady Docker? [20] No, it
can’t be her. Er – yes, yes! The lesser spotted sentry boys.
MORIARTY: Splendid Grytpype
Thynne. I should talk to him because I’m wearing the hat.
GRYTPYPE: Right, and I’ll
accompany you on this waistcoat.
GRAMS: (Recording) AMATEUR PIANO ARPEGGIOS
in C
GRYTPYPE: Is that alright for
you?
MORIARTY: (Sings) “
BLUEBOTTLE: Oooh. You’re not an
owl.
MORIARTY: Of course I’m not an
owl.[21] I’m on
holiday.
BLUEBOTTLE: But I heard one. I heard-ed one.
MORIARTY: You heard-ed?
BLUEBOTTLE: It went HOOT, HOOT,
HOOTIE! Its fake howl makes an ‘owl howl.
MORIARTY: Quelle brilliant
impression. Tell me little lad – can you do an impression of a sentry fast
asleep?
BLUEBOTTLE: Yes I can. Yes.
MORIARTY: Yes?
BLUEBOTTLE: Lays on ground,
closes eyes, does imitation cardboard snoring. Imitation ten seconds from now –
one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten. (Snores)
MORIARTY: Right. All clear
Grytpype. Lets go.
GRAMS: Double
whoosh
SEAGOON: Good heavens, a
piece of knotted string asleep at his post. Get up you rotten twine!
BLUEBOTTLE: Ahhie! Don’t shake
my ITMA-type catch phrases![22] Stop
shaking me – you’ll shake my knots off. I’m not doing real sleeping, I was
doing an impression of sleeping.
SEAGOON: Well, do an
impression of waking up.
BLUEBOTTLE: (Morning breath) Hello mum. What’s for
breakfast?
SEAGOON: Very good. Now tell
me little string-type soldier, did you see two criminals go by with four pounds
seven shillings in coppers?
BLUEBOTTLE: No, but I saw two
coppers go by with four pounds seven shillings in criminals.
Yeoue-hee-hee-hee-hee! I have made a little jockulle.
FX: Thud on nut.
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh-heough! Type
oh-heough!
SEAGOON: Shut type up! Type
shut up. Type fool. You’ve let two men go through disguised as two other men.
After the four of them! Wait - why is that gas stove wearing a hat?
BLUEBOTTLE: He’s going out.
That gas stove is Eccles.
SEAGOON: Splin, splan,
splon! Poor little cardboard grenadier – he thinks that the noble Eccles is a
noble gas stove. Just to prove that he is mad and I am sane I will question the
gas stove in its own tongue. A-hem. Hello gas stove.
ECCLES: (Approaching) Hello Neddie.
SEAGOON: Ahhh-ahhhhgh!
Nowts, norts, newts it’s true! Eccles is a gas stove. Tell me Eccles, what’s
cooking? Ah-ha ha ha! (&c)
ECCLES: I don’t wish to
cook that.
SEAGOON: Get out of my oven.
I mean, how did this fate befall you?
ECCLES: We-ell Neddie, when
I heard about the nadger plague …(mumbles
under.)
SEAGOON: (Very close) While he was mumbling I
read an amazing story. Seemingly, as Eccles had no trousers he could not avoid
the plague by having the seat cut out and had therefore swallowed a witches magic potion
which had changed him into a gas stove thus making him immune to the plague.
This has given me an idea. I will hie me to the witch. Eccles, lead the way.
But first – an impression of Ray Ellington.
ECCLES: That’s easy.
RAY ELLINGTON: “Green Door” [23]
GRAMS: Object
dropped into water. Steam and bubbling liquid.
BANNISTER: (Incanting) Yim bom biddelly doh!
Double,
double,
toil
and trouble,
fire
burn and cauldron bubble.
Eye
of a newt and a toe of a frog,
wool
of a bat and hair of a dog.
Ohiee,
yim bom biddeldy doh! [24]
CRUN: Stop making those
naughty spells Min.
BANNISTER: I’m not making a
naughty spell.
CRUN: You are. You made a
naughty spell.
BANNISTER: Henry, hand me that
carton of frozen asses gall and a nose of a Turk, buddy.
CRUN: Oh, yum yum yum.
Are you using Misses Beeton’s cookery book?[25]
BANNISTER: Of course. It’s the
first thing that I put in.
CRUN: Ohhhh.
FX: Slow knocking on door.
SEAGOON: The door was opened
by an elderly cupboard with the drawers open.
CRUN: Yes. I’m just
putting some clean newspaper in.
SEAGOON: I understand. Some
of my best friends are cupboards.
BANNISTER: Did you want me
young welsh buddy?
SEAGOON: Mistress Bannister –
are you the witch?
BANNISTER: Only part time. You
see the B.M.A.[26]
don’t recognize me.
SEAGOON: I didn’t recognise
you myself. You’ve aged so much.
CRUN: Don’t you talk to
Min like that, or I’ll… I’ll… ohie-er…oooouh! (fibrillations)
SEAGOON: I caught him as he
fell. Mistress Bannister, I want a magic potion that will change me into some
inanimate object.
CRUN: You mean, you’re
not one? Ha ha ha… (Develops into heart
attack.)
SEAGOON: I caught him as he
fell.
BANNISTER: Here young man,
take this bottle of green liquid.[27] Drink
it when your powder’s running low and then you’ll be transformed into any
object you want, buddy.
SEAGOON: Thank you ma’am.
Here’s my personal, unsigned, plasticine A.E.I.O.U.
BANNISTER: Thank you and here’s
a tip, buddy. (Whispers) Grytpype
Thynne and Moriarty are on their way to the Green Sailor’s
SEAGOON: What? Hup! Onwards!
GRAMS: Horses
hooves. Speed up gradually and fade. Wind, distant thunder.
FX: Knocking on door.
WILLIUM: (Approaching) Coming mate. Coming. Hold
on a minute mate. I don’t know. I’m coming. I don’t know what mates are doing
out on a night like this. (Raves)
FX: Locks being drawn back. Door opens.
GREENSLADE: Is this the Green
Sailor Inn?
WILLIUM: Yes mate.
GREENSLADE: Then part seven in
which two travellers arrive at the inn.
WILLIUM: Oh. Well I’d better
go and get the beds ready mate
MORIARTY: Yes, yes mate. And
a bowl of steaming venison and a side of mead for our horse’s friends.
WILLIUM: Who’s your horse’s
friends?
MORIARTY: We are.
GRYTPYPE: Oh, and landlord,
we want a room with the walls facing inwards, a table laid with your best
silver and napery…
MORIARTY: Yes, and a window
overlooking our horse and a set of knotted sheets hanging there from.
WILLIUM: ‘Ere, wait a minute
mate.
MORIARTY: What mate?
WILLIUM: Sheets hanging out of the
window?
MORIARTY: Yes mate.
WILLIUM: … I know what
you’re going to do matey. The moment my back’s turned that horse’ll be up them
sheets for a free night’s kip.
MORIARTY: Curse it! Curse it!
Curse it Grytpype – he’s guessed our plan.
GRYTPYPE: Alright landlord,
you’ve rumbled us. Put the horse on the bill.
MORIARTY: Yes, and hurry.
FX: Door opens.
WILLIUM: Alright mates, in
here. Room number ninety-nine. Named it after my old Dad I did.
MORIARTY: Ooh! What a lovely
room your father must have been. Wait! Ah yes look, and a gas stove in the
corner mate.
WILLIUM: Yes. A bloke left
it here earlier on – and that clock on the mantuel-piece. Left his horse behind
and all.
MORIARTY: Oh. I’ve never heard
of a man with a horse behind,[29] but
I’ll take your word for it.
WILLIUM: It’s the nadgers
what do it, you know. I’ll go and get your dinner.
MORIARTY: Thank you lad.
Thank you.
FX: Door closes.
MORIARTY: Now then Grytpype,
let’s count Seagoon’s fortune and see how much it comes to this time.
FX: Paper being dealt out on wooden table.
MORIARTY
& GRYTPYPE: (Distant counting
of money).
GRAMS: Clock ticking
under.
SEAGOON: Hello listeners.
Hear that ticking? Yes. That clock on the mantelpiece was none other than I,
Neddie Seagoon. I has drunk the witches magic potion and been transformed into
an eight day all weather clock, with device for waking you up with a cup of
tea. Now I must maintain the deception. A-hem. (Sings like clock striking the hour.) Dong, dong, dong, dong. Dong,
dong, dong, dong. Dong, dong, dong, dong. Dong, dong, dong, dong. DONG! DONG!
DONG!
MORIARTY:
SEAGOON: DONG!
MORIARTY: What?
GRYTPYPE: Nonsense, I make it
seven.
SEAGOON: DONG! DONG! DONG!
MORIARTY: There’s something
strange going on in this room. That clock’s slow. I’ll wind it up from behind.
SEAGOON: Don’t you dare
touch me or I’ll strike!
MORIARTY: (Horror) Ooooh! That clock spoke!
GRYTPYPE: It’s witchery. Run for it.
GRAMS: Boots
run off at speed. Pane of glass smashing.
SEAGOON: Ha ha ha!
Listeners, they’ve fled leaving the Seagoon fortune behind.
ECCLES: Ha ha! Listeners,
they’ve fled leaving the Seagoon for…
SEAGOON: Shut up gas stove!
Now to change into human form again. Hand me the magic potion.
ECCLES: I can’t move. I’m a
gas stove.
SEAGOON: Well, change back
to Eccles.
ECCLES: Ok. Hand me the
magic bottle.
SEAGOON: I can’t. I’m a
clock.
GRAMS: Ticking
of clock.
GREENSLADE: And that dear
listeners was three hundred years ago. To this day there is a room in the Green
Sailor’s
ORCHESTRA: End theme.
GREENSLADE: That was the Goon
Show, a BBC recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe, 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 