GOON SHOW: TLO 44167
8TH SERIES: No 12
BROADCAST: 16 Dec 1957
Script by Spike Milligan and
Larry Stephens
GREENSLADE: This is the BBC.
GRAMS:
(Recording.) Native drumming and oriental woodwind. SECOMBE singing over. Played backwards
and vary the speed. Continue under.
SECOMBE: What’s this lot
Wal?
GREENSLADE: That’s a record of the Siamese Mixed Male Ballet, Tom.
SECOMBE: The lads sound as
if they’re in pain Wal.
GREENSLADE: Ooh they are,
indeed they are. In fact they’re in excruciating pain Tom. See those Siamese
lads execute great one legged leaps in very tight trousers filled with
thistles.
SECOMBE: Ah. That’s very
dangerous with all that frost about you know Wal.
GRAMS:
Recording continues. Crescendo
GRAMS:
Recording stops.
SECOMBE: I’ve had enough of
this. I think the audience has too. Hello folks! Calling all folks. Have you
had enough folks?
GRAMS:
Wailing. Mix in penguin noises.
SECOMBE: Great jumping
donglers! We’ve got the wrong audience. Wal, turn round and show them how the
other half lives.
GREENSLADE: Yes Tom. But first
of all the all-leather Goon Show. And here’s good news. The Goon Show is now
available in half-pint bottles.
SELLERS: (American) Yes folks, don’t listen to
the Goon Show, drink it in the new family sized bottle. Drink Goon Show.
SECOMBE: Now Mr Greenslade,
swallow this powerful stomach powder and stand well clear.
GREENSLADE: But first let me
announce this week’s story, ‘The Great British Revolution.’
ORCHESTRA: Fanfare type dramatic introduction.
SELLERS: (Poet) Ooooooooh.
OMNES: Ooooooooh.
SELLERS: Ooooo Ooooooh.
OMNES: Ooooo Ooooooh.
SELLERS: The crowd are with
me tonight. ‘Twas Christmas night in the workhouse…
OMNES: Crowd noise.
SELLERS: … and all of a
terrible sudden there was a dreadful accident…
GRAMS:
Terrible scream.
SELLERS: … with an ordinary
Christmas pudding. And oooooh…
OMNES: Further crowd noise. Cries of “More bread”
etc
SEAGOON: Inmates!
Housemates! I know you have a grudge against the rich because they sleep later.
The time is ripe for revolution.
JAMPTON: And so saying he
wrote the word ‘dinner’ on a slip of paper and swallowed it.
SEAGOON: Ahhhh! Delicious.
WILLIUM: Oh mate, it makes
me mouth water. I wish I had a bit of paper with ‘dinner’ written on it.
SEAGOON: I’ll do better.
FX: Quick scribbling
SEAGOON: There. Swallow
that.
WILLIUM: Cor! Christmas
dinner! Yum yum mate.
SEAGOON: Yes. Remember
citizens when I’m president all those bits of paper with the word ‘dinner’ on
them will be honoured.
GRAMS:
Nurenburg rally.
SEAGOON: Thank you lads.
Settle down! Now let’s march on
GRAMS:
(Recording) Cast singing ‘The
International’. Gradually speed up.
GREENSLADE: Meantime in the
Mall, two men of dubious means shiver in a deserted crows nest.
MORIARTY: There’s a crowd of
men, steaming men, marching down
GRYTPYPE: Hand me my ‘Times
Only’ reading glasses.
MORIARTY: There.
GRYTPYPE: Mm, according to
the Court Circular in the Daily Worker the leading steamer is citizen Seagoon
leading this year’s revolution. Moriarty, store the teeth away, we’re leaving.
We’re leaving by first class legs.
MORIARTY: But we’re safe,
safe in this tree!
GRYTPYPE: No, it’s to be chopped down. The Ministry of Works say it’s dangerous.
MORIARTY: Dangerous? Why?
GRYTPYPE: Every time they pass it, there it is - defying them. Now, with that acid topicality we leave.
GRAMS:
Whoosh
FX: Door knocker.
GREENSLADE: The sound you hear
is the door knocker of number
FX: Door knocker.
JAMPTON: Open up this door
knocker.
PRIME
MINISTER:
Coming. Are my feet in the direction of you?
FX: Door opens.
PRIME MINISTER: Now, may I ask why you have dragged me out of bed in the middle of the day?
JAMPTON:
PRIME
MINISTER:
I’d better write that down in case I forget it.
JAMPTON: I tell you sir,
thirteen men claiming to be the English nation are approaching here on foot.
PRIME
MINISTER:
Oh? And whose foot are they approaching on?
JAMPTON: I couldn’t see sir. It was covered with a sock and the blinds were drawn. Sir, there’s no time to waste. We must re-assemble parliament.
PRIME MINISTER: Right. You put back the walls and I’ll replace the roof.
GRAMS:
Rapid hammering. Rapid murmuring.
GREENSLADE: During this sound effect Max Geldray will play his overdraft.
ORCHESTRA: Brisk rendition of ‘I Want to be Happy.’
Corny ending.
GREENSLADE: That music
signifies that the musicians union has agreed to join the Great British
Revolution part two. The siege of number
GRAMS:
Round of machine gun and small arms fire,
stopped by…
FX: Whistle
GRAMS:
Further burst of machine gun and small
arms fire, stopped by…
FX: Whistle
GRAMS:
Further burst of machine gun and small
arms fire, stopped by…
(Short pause)
GRAMS:
Further burst of machine gun and small
arms fire, stopped by…
(Longer pause)
GRAMS:
Further burst of machine gun and small
arms fire, stopped by…
(Even longer pause)
GRAMS:
Further burst of machine gun and small
arms fire, stopped by…
SEAGOON: Thank you.
FX: Whistle
SEAGOON: (Cutting in before it all starts again.) That’s
enough lads! I’ll see if he’s in. Come on out Mr Prime Minister! We know you’re
in there. We’ve seen your washing on the line.
PRIME
MINISTER:
What do you want? Who are you?
SEAGOON: I’m the October
revolution of 1917.
PRIME
MINISTER:
That belongs to the Russians.
SEAGOON: They’ve lent it to us for the afternoon.
PRIME
MINISTER:
Are you telling me that this revolution is a matinee?
SEAGOON: Yes, and it’s sold
out. That’s why we’re all standing at the back.
JAMPTON: Wait a minute you
rebel devil!
SEAGOON: It’s old Milligan
doing his histrionic nut there. What part are you playing?
JAMPTON: I, sir, am the home
secretary.
SEAGOON: Time you went home
then, isn’t it!
PRIME
MINISTER:
So you’re the leader of the naughty revolution.
SEAGOON: Yes and the British
people are behind me.
PRIME
MINISTER:
I wondered why we couldn’t see them.
SEAGOON: Be careful what you
say hairy Prime Minister or I’ll…
JAMPTON: Wait a minute you
devil. Are those rifles loaded?
WILLIUM: No they’re not, but
we’re not telling you that mate.
SEAGOON: Well said citizen
Willium. Here…
FX: Fast scribbling.
SEAGOON: There.
WILLIUM: Cor! A bit of paper
with O.B.E written on it!
JAMPTON: Mr Prime Minister
these men are flooding
PRIME
MINISTER:
Is Stalin behind this revolution?
SEAGOON: No.
PRIME
MINISTER:
Is Lenin?
SEAGOON: No. Len’s out.
PRIME
MINISTER:
I don’t wish to know that!
SEAGOON: You want to speak
to his dad?
GRAMS:
Cattle lowing.
SEAGOON: Alright lads settle
down. Prime Minister, the citizens are getting impatient. We’re taking over
FX: Phone rings. Receiver picked up.
SEAGOON: Hello.
GRYTPYPE: Look here laddie, I’ve been playing your revolution on my phonograph. Congratulations! Now then, I have certain information that could benefit your cause.
SEAGOON: What what what what
what what what what what what what what what?
GRYTPYPE: Would you like to
have dinner with me?
SEAGOON: Yes. Where?
GRYTPYPE: At your place?
SEAGOON: Yes. Seven o’clock?
GRYTPYPE: Meet you at seven
o’clock on the dot.
SEAGOON: Sure enough at
seven I met him standing on a dot. And the dinner began!
GRAMS:
Ring of boxing bell. Herd of pigs at
feeding time. Mix in distant glass breaking; massed public screaming; falling
bricks and lumber.
GRYTPYPE: Ah! Magnificent
meal. Who said English cooking was lousy?
SEAGOON: Just about
everybody.
GRYTPYPE: No, no, no. Now the
sign!
SEAGOON: At a sign Moriarty
stepped back and revealed a secret radio station.
GRYTPYPE: Go in Neddy.
FX: Door opening.
YAKAMOTO: Ah! It are citizen
Seagoon. Ah, come in citizen.
GRYTPYPE: Yukamoto, tell him
your oriental secret.
YAKAMOTO: Ah yes. (Extended Japanese)
SEAGOON: You’re making it up
aren’t you?
YAKAMOTO: Yes. Your laughing is also
ad lib. Now listen. I have invented an anti-gravitation stick that when pointed
at a person makes person lose contact with gravity.
SEAGOON: And they disappear
into the sky?
YAKAMOTO: Yes! Oh boy, what
fun it is.
GRYTPYPE: Neddy, with that
weapon you could be master of the universe.
SEAGOON: Yes indeed. But
where can I get them?
GRYTPYPE: Here’s the address
of the sole wholesale agent.
SEAGOON: (Reading) Major Bloodnok, care of
GRAMS:
Whoosh
GRYTPYPE: Moriarty, take this
letter down on the piano.
GRAMS:
(Recording) Seller’s amateurish piano
playing. Continue under as if taking dictation.
GRYTPYPE: Dear Dennis; I am
sending you a ripe Charlie. He’s fallen for the anti-gravity sticks plan.
Charge him a fortune and include ten-percent commission for me, made payable to
any piggy bank. Signed Grytpype-Thynne. Play that back.
GRAMS:
Seller’s ‘Dance Hall Solo’ played back at
slightly faster speed with badly played final cadence.
GRAMS:
Seller’s ‘Dance Hall Solo’ played back at
even faster speed with extensive, badly played, final cadence, ending with
glissando.
GRYTPYPE: There. Put that
in a letterbox and post it in the dustbins of
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic
link.
SEAGOON: Right. Right. Thank
you. Well done, lads. Well done. Well done. Well done. Well done. Well done.
Well done. Well done!
WILLIUM: I don’t like
moaning citizen, but we’ve been running full belt since we left
SEAGOON: OK. We’ll send you
onto
WILLIUM: (With echo.) Right. I’m ready.
SEAGOON: Fire!
GRAMS: Cannon
shell.
SEAGOON: There he goes
ladies, airborne!
WILLIUM: (Echo) That ain’t me mate, that’s me
trousers. They went away they did.
SEAGOON: Did they? Well
you’d better stay in the barrel hadn’t you?
WILLIUM: It’s not my turn
mate.
SEAGOON: Mr Spriggs!
SPRIGGS: Hello Jim. Hello
Ji-immmmm!
SEAGOON: Hello Ji-immmm! Now
what’s our geographical location?
SPRIGGS: I cannot say. Oh
Jim, I cannot say-yyyyyyyy!
SEAGOON: Nothing but sand as
far as the eye can see. Let me taste a spoonful of it. (Licking. Swallowing.) Ugh! Oh gad. This is the
SPRIGGS: Oh. That means it’s
ready to serve Jim. Come on lads, fill your hour glasses. This is all for us…
SEAGOON: Spriggs! Do my eyes
deceive me or is there a lighthouse over there?
SPRIGGS: It doesn’t look
very light to me Jim.
SEAGOON: It is! It’s the
Eddystone lighthouse. It says so on the label.
SPRIGGS: It must be off
course Jim. Oh Jim, it’s off co-oooooourse!
SEAGOON: Listen! Hist, hark,
hoock, hark, heck listen. I can hear the folks inside, folks. Shhh!
GRAMS: Slow
sequence; drop a teaspoon onto hard surface, followed by a blunt object; sound
of low pitched spring; a creak; Fred the oyster; drop a couple of spoons; a
high pitched spring; finally drop a series of blunt objects.
CRUN: It’s no good Min,
my bed’s falling to bits you know. It’s never been the same since that terrible
night I drank the dandelion wine.
BANNISTER: This bed’s alright
Henry. It’s still got four legs.
CRUN: Yes, but two of
them are mine.
BANNISTER: Oh, I wondered why
they had boots on. Well buddy, it’s time to light the lighthouse lamp up top
buddy.
CRUN: Yes, yes, yes Min,
modern Min.
BANNISTER: O.K. rhythm type
Henry.
CRUN: Where are the
modern matches Min?
BANNISTER: I put them in the
fridge so they wouldn’t go off.
CRUN: Good Min. Good
modern Min. Now before I start work I shall just sip this cup of brown man
sulphur and harbinger cennapod tea. Come Min. Come on Min. Let’s go up the top
and trim the wick. Come on Min.
BANNISTER: Oh dear.
FX: Boots walking up stairs. (Extended.) (It
is likely that Sellers and Milligan actually do this effect themselves.)
CRUN: You know Min, a script writer named Spike Milligan gave me two guineas to take a long time walking up these steps. He said it helps him in his work.
BANNISTER: Yes, I know.
CRUN: Now Min, light the
wicks.
FX: Match being struck.
CRUN: Phish-toooooo.
BANNISTER: Hurray! There it is
Henry. Shine on brave light, a warning to those sailors who sail the stormy
seas.
CRUN: Never mind about
them Min. Pull the blinds. We don’t want people looking in.
FX: Venetian blinds being pulled down.
CRUN: If they see this
light on all night Min, they’ll think we’ve been having sinful midnight ludo
parties.
SEAGOON: (Off) Ahoy there!
CRUN & BANNISTER: Ahoy! (Extended.)
CRUN: Ask the driver.
He’s under the lighthouse mending the brakes.
SEAGOON: Ah yes. I see his
boot sticking out. Hey you! You wearing the odd legs. Hey! HEY! Are you deaf?
FX: Slap
BLUEBOTTLE: Ohi aoohi! You swine of a man you. What’s the matter with you man? Look, you’ve dented my shins all out of shape you have.
FX: Slap
SEAGOON: There. I’ve dented them straight again free of charge.
BLUEBOTTLE: You fool man you. I
challenge you to a duel. Puts on sword-fight record.
GRAMS:
Rapiers clashing. Continue under.
BLUEBOTTLE: Have at you. Have
at you. Stab, thrust, parry, nick, lunge, sever, slice, parry…I can’t think of
any more sword words. Oh yes. Pokie, pokie, pokie! Pokie, pokie, pokie!
GRAMS:
(Recording) Eccles: Aohhwwwwww! Who did
that?
BLUEBOTTLE: Eccles! What you
doing on my sword-fight record?
GRAMS: (Recording) Eccles: I’m on the other side
‘bottle, and your sword
came
through.
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh.
SEAGOON: Stop this rapid
sponing. Lad, lad, little gooney elly tough lad.
BLUEBOTTLE: What you want?
SEAGOON: Drive this
lighthouse to
BLUEBOTTLE: Ah oh oh ohi! Does
she wobble?
SEAGOON: In the right places
lad.
BLUEBOTTLE: Where’s my spoon!?
SEAGOON: But first lad,
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic
link.
GREENSLADE: Hello folks! Hello
folks! As the lighthouse departs we place our microphone in far-off
GRAMS:
Long drawn out series of explosions.
BLOODNOK: Oh! Ohhhhh! Oh!
Singhez. Send this parcel back to Lord Blunnley will you.
SINGHEZ: Alright. What’s
inside?
BLOODNOK: Lady Blunnley! She
hasn’t got the fare home dear lad. Oh what a creature my
ORCHESTRA: Introduction ala Indian regimental band.
BLOODNOK: (sings) We
met inside the cage
when
My
passions grew stronger
so
into a
I
took her
despite
my age.
and
there to amazement of all
whilst
doing the tango
someone
threw a mango
at
that dear old
of
mine, of mine.
That
old
GRAMS:
Massed applause and cheering.
BLOODNOK: Thank you! Thank
you! Thank you! Every letter will be answered.
FX: Door opens and closes quickly.
SEAGOON: Major Bloodnok, I’m
the October revolution of 1917.
BLOODNOK: Gad! The man’s a
giant.
SEAGOON: I’m standing on a
lighthouse.
BLOODNOK: And it suits you. I
must get myself one for the hurricane season.
SEAGOON: Where are the
anti-gravitation sticks?
BLOODNOK: In this crate
marked ‘not to be opened until the cheque
is cleared.’
SEAGOON: Ah, well done,
well done, well done! Now, which is the quickest way back to
SINGHEZ: Through this door
here.
FX: Door opens.
GRAMS:
Big Ben striking the hour. Sped up.
GRYTPYPE: Welcome back to
London Neddy. You’re just in time lad. According to Hansard parliament are at
an all-night sitting. The government are coming out.
SEAGOON: Citizens, prepare
anti-gravity sticks.
GRYTPYPE: Mr Greenslade,
prepare for the payoff would you.
GREENSLADE: Sir!
FX: Door opens.
PRIME
MINISTER:
Oh. It’s you again.
SEAGOON: Yes Mister Prime
Minister. And here’s where you and your government go up. Citizens, point
sticks and make government go up in the sky!
(Silence)
PRIME
MINISTER:
What are you idiots at?
SEAGOON: You’re supposed to
be up in the air by now. These anti-gravity sticks don’t work. Run for it lads!
MORIARTY: Ah ha, Mr Prime
Minister. As we promised they’re all yours. Arrest them!
PRIME
MINISTER:
Thank you Grytpype. Here is your O.B.E and Lord Taverner’s tie, the badge of
success.
SEAGOON: So! It was all a
plot you fiendish yukkabukkaka!
GRYTPYPE: Yes, and there’s no
need to re-iterate it, the audience saw this coming a mile off, didn’t you?
GRAMS:
Recording of sheep.
YOKEL: (
MORIARTY: Oww.
YOKEL: Lovely. Now the
collection please.
FX: Penny in mug.
YOKEL: Thank you. Thank
you. Isn’t it lovely? Good night.
GREENSLADE: It’s all in the
mind you know.
GREENSLADE: That was the Goon Show, a
BBC recorded programme, featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe, and Spike
Milligan, with the Ray Ellington Quartet. The orchestra conducted by Wally
Stott. Script by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens. Announcer; Wallace
Greenslade. The programme produced by ………………………….
ORCHESTRA: Playout.