THE
£1,000,000 PENNY
GOON SHOW: TLO 69769
9TH
SERIES: No 3
RECORDED:
Script by Spike Milligan
GREENSLADE: This is the BBC Light Programme. Harm it and you
harm me. Semper fidelis. Vivat John Snaggers! [2] I
will now swear an oath on the Radio Times.
SELLERS: Stop! Here is a warning. Owing to an outbreak of
fish in the Cotswolds, all Tibetans with legs will be shot. [3]
SPRIGGS: Take aim, fire!
FX: Gunshot
SECOMBE: Aaaa! You fool, Milligoon! I’m not a Tibetan.
SPRIGGS: Ooh, then why are you wearing legs, Jim? (Sings) Why are you wearing le-eegs?
SECOMBE: People say they make me look taller.
SELLERS: (Yank
announcer) Yes folks. Only legs will give you those extra inches. Buy a
pair today! The new king size filter legs with a flip top knee.
SPRIGGS: Never mind the flip flap knees, Jim. Where did you
get those legs?
SECOMBE: I bought them during a crawling tour of
GRAMS: Explosion
SECOMBE: Aaaaarghhheeeeeeaaaaagghhhh!
SELLERS: I will now say part two from a distance. (Distant) Part two from a distance!
GREENSLADE: I say, this is the story of a crime-type murder.
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic introduction.
SELLERS: The scene – a watertight alibi in Chelsea, London W.C.
[4]
FX: Door opens.
SEAGOON: Hands up! Nobody move! This camera is loaded with a
film of bullets. Mary Inspector Seagoon is the name. Ha ha! Now which one of
you sixty men is Rita Hayworth?
WILLIUM: We take it in turns, mate.
SEAGOON: A constabule of the polis! Now tell me, what am I
doing here?
WILLIUM: Looking for a murderer.
SEAGOON: It’s a bit early for that.
WILLIUM: Ah, this is a matinee, mate.
SEAGOON: Oh I see. Who’s playing the lead body?
WILLIUM: So help me, Tom Beat is dead, matey!
SEAGOON: Beat, dead? Dead Beat? That’s terrible!
WILLIUM: Yes, and it didn’t get a laugh either, did it?
MILLIGAN: (Keep going, lads. The good ones are ahead. Keep
going.)
WILLIUM: I found the vic-a-tim in the doorway of Val Parnell’s
wallet.[5]
SEAGOON: Poor vic-a-tim. C’est triste.
WILLIUM: Triste, yer. By his body lay a sock 'alf full of
jelly.
SEAGOON: Then we’re looking for a man wearing one sock and
eating a jelly.
SPRIGGS: Curse Jim,
SEAGOON: Ah, inspector Tooth. Bad news for you. Your
grandmother Fred Beat, is dead
SPRIGGS: Yes, I read about it in a newspaper.
SEAGOON: He didn’t die in a newspaper, mate. He was found
under a copy of The Poultry Gazette!
SPRIGGS: Poultry Gazette? I suspect fowl play!
SEAGOON: I suspect old jokes, hup!
SPRIGGS: Constable, arrest all old jokes.
WILLIUM: Right. Why-did-the-chicken-cross-the-road-to-get-to-the-other-side.
I arrest you. Got him!
SPRIGGS: Good man. Gentlemen, I think this person who did
this sock jelly murder was a master criminule. Is there anything missing?
WILLIUM: Yes, he is.
SEAGOON: So, he got away with himself. He got AWAY with
himself. That’s better, Willum. That was more like it. He must’ve been using
the new king size legs. Anything else gone?
WILLIUM: Ten volumes of Diana Dors in 3D.
SEAGOON: What? Arrest all musclemen and search them for books
of Diana Dors. And while you’re about it, search Diana Dors for musclemen.
WILLIUM: Oh! I'll get my appliance, mate.
SPRIGGS: Stop! Willium, put down that inspection light. Now
tell me, where did you find this sock full of jelly, Jim?
WILLIUM: On top of the
SPRIGGS: So! We’re looking for a tall Frenchmen. Or a short
Frenchmen standing on a chair with long arms. Or a short man standing …* [6] facing
east with long arms. Etcetera.
SEAGOON: It could’ve been a tall man sitting down with long
arms, you know.
SPRIGGS: Yeah. Shhhh!
SEAGOON: What are you listening for?
SPRIGGS: Laughs, Jim. What’s the matter with them tonight?
SEAGOON: You’ve had it too easy in Australia.
WILLIUM: Inspector. I’ve just been consulting my date book…
SEAGOON: And?
WILLIUM: … I haven’t eaten one for weeks. Oooow!
SEAGOON: Arrest that man for old jokes.
WILLIUM: Here, steady! Ahiahiee.
SPRIGGS: Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please!
SEAGOON: Shut up, you twit!
SPRIGGS: Seagoon, outside.
WILLIUM: Gentlemen…
FX: Football whistle.
WILLIUM: Ah!
GREENSLADE: Offside, lads.
SEAGOON: Ta.
GREENSLADE: And as the players run off the field for a £10,000
transfer fee, on come the band of the royal Max Geldrays.[7]
GELDRAY: Oh boy! At last the breaks!
MAX
GELDRAY - “Please Be Kind” [8]
GREENSLADE: (He’s er – very good, you know. Very good indeed!)
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link.
GREENSLADE: Ta. “The Sock Jelly Murder” part two.
SEAGOON: Stop, stop! Hello folks, hello folks, good news,
folks. Whilst Max Geldray was playing, they captured the sock jelly murderer. A
man called Arthur Plin.
GREENSLADE: I say that’s a bit disappointing for the listeners.
THROAT: Never mind, folks. We fill in the time with Ned the
Miser.
GRAMS: Howling wind
CORNISHMAN: Arrgh, urgh. D’you hear that naughty wind? ‘Tis the
wind that blows over the Kenneth Moors of the wintertime.[9]
People do say that if you holds a nurgle in your ‘and and puts one ear ‘ole to
the ground, you can hear the wind blowing in the other ear ‘ole. And that’s the
house of Miser Ned. Maharharhar harharharhar!
GRAMS: Howling wind up and out.
SEAGOON: Aaaah ha ha ha! Jeeves, throw another unpaid bill in the fire and
while you’re about it, throw on a couple of unpaid Freds. Hahaha! Money and power!
That’s what I’ve got. Ha ha. What else have I got?
GRAMS: Howling wind.
SEAGOON: The wind! Aaaah! Jeeves, here’s a pencil. Go and
draw the blinds.
BANNERJEE: I arrest you for old jokes.
SEAGOON: That was in the Sock Jelly Murder. That’s over. I’m
acting. I’m acting my nut off here. Hahahahaha! Jeeves, pour out the Seagoon’s
horde of coins.
FX: Penny on table.
SEAGOON: Now back in the safe with it! Hahahaha! One penny,
hahaha, and it’s tax-free. Hahahahahahaha haahaahaha ha. (Coughs.)
GREENSLADE: (He’s very good, you know, very good indeed.)
Meantime, with the aid of an ear-trumpet, two men have heard of Miser Ned’s
penny, and were heading that way along the old moor road.
GRAMS: Howling wind. Horse hooves, wooden wheels on
gravel. Sound of brakes squeaking. Chickens clucking.
GRYTPYPE: (Off) Coachman!
Coachman, why have we stopped?
SINGHEZ: Chickens are tired, sir.
GRYTPYPE: (Off ) But
coachman, my brown paper parcel and I must have shelter for the night. Our
underwear is porous
MORIARTY: Alaga…
GRYTPYPE: Shut up, you!
SPRIGGS: Hands up! Hands up, everyone except me.[10]
GRYTPYPE: Blast! It's Ben Turpin, the cross-eyed highwayman.
SPRIGGS: Wrong, Jim. We are uncross-eyed
GRYTPYPE: I’m sorry, sir, but we’re clean out of criminal ventriloquists.
Try the stage coach further down the road. They may stock them.
SPRIGGS: Right, Jim.
GRAMS: Boots running into the distance.
GRYTPYPE: (Very close.) Alright,
dear Count, you can come out now. They’ve gone.
FX: Rustling of paper.
MORIARTY: Aagh! There must be a better way of travelling than
this.
WILLIUM: I thought so! You’ve been tryin’ to ride free!
MORIARTY: Nonsense! Nonsense, nice man. I’m a ventriloquist
dummy!
WILLIUM: You’re real, you talks. And look, you’ve got
dandruff on your nut!
MORIARTY: I tell you, it’s his!
GRYTPYPE: Of course it’s mine. Not only do I throw my voice, I
also throw my dandruff.
MORIARTY: That is true! I …up on that.
WILLIUM: I shall have to take down your names…
MORIARTY: Take that!
GRAMS: Electronic jelly splosh.
WILLIUM: Oow! I’ve been sponned. Ooh!
MORIARTY: Right in his old bazonika dowser! Hahaha![11]
GRYTPYPE: Yes, but you’d better unscrew that lump on his nut.
We don’t want to leave any evidence.
MORIARTY: Right. Look, Grytpype! There – four-thousand miles
away, a house with a light in it.
GRYTPYPE: And it smells delicious. Go and bring the front door
here and I’ll cover you with this forty-five calibre sinnnng!
GRAMS: Pair of boots running away at speed.
GRYTPYPE: (Sings) Take
me to your heart again my dearest one,
Take me to your
heart again my love for aye.
Take me to your
heart again my…
GRAMS: Pair of boots approaching at the run.
MORIARTY:[12] Here, complete with two spare door knockers, one door.
GRYTPYPE: What? Hand me my door knocking hat.
FX: Spring.
MORIARTY: Ha!
GRYTPYPE: Now to arouse the occupants.
FX: Knock on door.
CRUN: (Distant) Coming, coming!
FX: Footsteps coming downstairs
heavily, and very slowly.
MORIARTY: He’s coming, sir. He’s coming
FX: Rattling chains and locks. Door
opens.
CRUN: Aaah! Now who was that knocking?
MORIARTY: It was my friend, Grytpype-Thynne.[13]
CRUN: I can’t see him
MORIARTY: That’s because you are playing him .
CRUN: What?
MORIARTY: He’s never here when you’re here.
CRUN: I don’t understand.
MORIARTY: Neither do the audience, that’s why it isn’t getting
a laugh.
CRUN: Very quiet this evening…
MORIARTY: It is – it is. Now listen, old man. We are stranded,
you know, stranded.
CRUN: What?
MORIARTY: Yes, our stage coach was suddenly taken ill with a
dreadful…
SEAGOON: (Approaching) Mr
Crun! Close that door… I say, who are these three women?
CRUN: These three women are two men.
SEAGOON: Oooh!
GRYTPYPE: Sir, we are fleeing from the advancing German army.
SEAGOON: Ehi? They gave it in 1945.
GRYTPYPE: Ah yes, but we are made of sterner stuff, sir.
SEAGOON: I don’t like this at all.
MILLIGAN: (You're not the only one.)
SEAGOON: Two strange men arriving in a mist during an equinox
of the shins of the anniversary of my legs? Ha. Oh no, it bodes evil, I tell ye.
There’s an old Gypsy saying… I just can’t think of it at the moment.
GRYTPYPE: Sir, my card.
SEAGOON: Mr Grytpype-Thynne, King of England. Knighthoods done
while you wait! You’re the king?
GRYTPYPE: My word, yes.
MORIARTY: That is true, Ned.
SEAGOON: How do you know my name?
MORIARTY: I met it at a dance.
SEAGOON: Who are you?
MORIARTY: Pretender to the throne of
SEAGOON: You don’t look like a king.
MORIARTY: That’s because I’m only pretending.
FX: Slapstick.
MORIARTY: Aaaah! Oooow!
GRYTPYPE: Pardon the steam king, Neddie. He’s never been the
same since the fall of France.
SEAGOON: Why not?
MORIARTY: It fell on me, that’s why!
FX: Slapstick
MORIARTY: Aaaah! Oooow! (French
gibberish – extended.)
GRYTPYPE: Quiet, you steaming idiot!
MORIARTY: (French
gibberish)
GRYTPYPE: Phish tuuuuu! Now, Ned, you’re rich, yes?
SEAGOON: How did you know?
GRYTPYPE: Moriarty was feeling inside your pockets and he
heard you had money.
SEAGOON: Ha ha ha ha! See this penny? I own it!
MORIARTY: A penny. Both sides?
SEAGOON: Yes, hard to believe, eh? Haha! (Fear.) No no! Put down that sock full of jelly, no!
GRAMS: Electronic jelly splosh.
SEAGOON: Aaaaaeeeehuuuh!
MORIARTY: Timbeeer!
GRAMS: Tree crashes to the ground.
GRYTPYPE: Good work, steam count. Unscrew his legs so he can’t
follow us. Now for the plot. Dear listeners, this penny is valuable. You see,
it has been left a million pounds in the will of Neddie’s grandmother. All we
have to do now is finish granny.
GREENSLADE: Very good, lads. Meantime, forty-thousand miles away
in a daub and wattle hut in
RAY
ELLINGTON QUARTET - “That’s
My Girl”
GREENSLADE: (He’s um – very good, you know.) Very good indeed.
Meantime as Ned the Miser lies unconscious in a pool of unconsciousness, a
fiend poacher is at work in the grounds
ORCHESTRA: Bloodnok theme.
GRAMS: Hunting rifle firing wildly. Bubbling stream
behind.
BLOODNOK: Aaaarough! Aaaaarrough! Aaaaaaouh! Ooh, oooh! that’s better.
(Sings) Oh Dennis, you eat tonight, that
is what you do.
You eat tonight.
Now
where’s my butler’s-revenge frying pan? Ah here we are.
FX: Rattling pans
BLOODNOK: (Sings)
Deee dee dee deeeee.
Little fishes from the sea.
I’m going to cook you tonight, my dear.
ECCLES: (Approaching)
I say, my man!
BLOODNOK: What, what, what?
ECCLES: Don’t you know you’re not allowed to shoot fish?
BLOODNOK: Scron me lip-plons! What?… Who are you, sir? Explain
away that tatty body and those Jacobean legs, please.[14]
ECCLES: They’re mine.
BLOODNOK: What?
ECCLES: I’m Mad Dan Eccles.
BLOODNOK: Well that explains everything, but it doesn’t help
me at all. Well I deny having shot any fish.
ECCLES: Aoooaaroohoo! I saw you point your gun at that
river, and go BAAANG! You did that.
BLOODNOK: What? But I wasn’t shooting naughty fish. I was
shooting the river.
ECCLES: Shooting the river?
BLOODNOK: Of course.
ECCLES: (Close) There’s
something funny going on here, folks.
BLOODNOK: Come away from that audience, Eccles. You don’t know
where they’ve been. I can explain everything, Eccles. There’s been a terrible
drought in Bagshot and the lads sent me out here to shoot some water. You’ve
heard of a water shoot, haven’t you, Mad Dan?
ECCLES: No, but I’ve heard of a piece of knotted string.
BLOODNOK: Oh. Well, it’s like a piece of knotted string, only
it’s called a water shoot.
ECCLES: (Raves) Ohhwoooowoooowooowooarghhwoo.
BLOODNOK: I don’t think you’re quite with it, you know.
However, I’ll play it to you.
ECCLES: Play it to me.
GRAMS: Pre-recorded: Old fashioned music hall piano
accompaniment with bass drum. Occasional
gunshot behind.
BLOODNOK: (Sings.) It’s a long, long way
to Tipperary.[15]
It's a military way to go.
A long, long way to Tipperary…
FX:
Gunshot. Oowh!
(Continues to sing) To that sweetest
girl I know.
FX:
Gunshot.
That naughty girl.
It’s a long, long way to Tipperary,
‘Cause my heart lies there.
FX:
Gunshot.
A long,
long way to Tipperary,
‘Coz
that’s where I want to be.
FX:
Gunshot.
Ooawhhaa!
GRAMS: Terrible explosion.
BLOODNOK: There!
ECCLES: That was a water shoot?
BLOODNOK: In the key of E flat, there’s no law against
shooting water, I tell you.
ECCLES: Oh no? I’d better look in my little book and see
what is says.
FX: Flipping pages in a book.
ECCLES: This book belongs to Eccles. OK, you’re in the
clear. You’re still trespassing though. I’d better take your name down.
BLOODNOK: My name? Oh um…
ECCLES: Come on now.
BLOODNOK: Well I, erm… Mrs Elizabeth Thuins.
FX: Pen on paper.
ECCLES: (Writing) Mrs.
El… You’re a woman?
BLOODNOK: Er… Quite so. Yes, yes, yes.
ECCLES: (Lascivious) Oooooooooahoahoah!
[16]
BLOODNOK: (Going) Stay
away from me idiot!
GRAMS: Body into water.
LITTLE JIM: He’s fallen in the water!
ECCLES: We’d better run and tell the master.
LITTLE JIM: We’d better run and tell the master![17]
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link.
SEAGOON: Aaah! Ohohoh! Struck down! Aaooh! AAAAAaahohohoho!
In me prime yet! Oooohho! oooohho! (Exhausted)
Hoh.
GREENSLADE: (He’s very good, you know.) That was Mr Seagoon
playing Ned the Miser, still unconscious. But luckily, the long player of his
groans have reached the top ten, and a band of young stalwarts are on the way.
GRAMS: Massed bugles playing marching song. Smart
regiment on gravel parade ground. Play at twice the speed.
BLUEBOTTLE: Men, halt!
GRAMS: Sudden stop.
BLUEBOTTLE: Poles on the ground, from the shoulders – put them!
GRAMS: Various sized tent-poles hitting a hard
surface. Pre-recorded voice: “Ow!” Speed the whole thing up.
BLUEBOTTLE: Men of the third Finchley Wolfcubs… (Dung Sprotley,
don’t do that. We are known as the women savers. Our duty is to crush vice in
Finchley…
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded) Boys shouting: “Hurray! Hip
hip, hip hip, hurray hurray. Hip hip, hurray, hurray! Hip-ray! Hip-ray!
Hip-ray! Hip-ray!” Very fast.
BLUEBOTTLE: …Crush all vice and leave just enough for us.) Now
men, breathing exercise. In…
GRAMS: Massed intake of breath by ranks of boys.
BLUEBOTTLE: Hey, Plungton! Draw your stomach in like this…
FX: Slide whistle going down.
BLUEBOTTLE: Ooh, my trousers!
BANNISTER: Ooooh! Young Bluebottle! Stop that modern-type
entertainment at once!
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh, it’s Granny Min from
BANNISTER: Hello Young Bottle from Clunge. Your dinner’s in the
oven.
FX: Door opens.
SEAGOON: Aaaaoooooh! Struck down by sock jelly! Aaaaargh!
BANNISTER: It’s Neddie! Ooh, he looks a drun. Neddie, let me
smell your breath. (Sniffs) Neddie,
you’ve been eating again.
SEAGOON: Aaaaaah ooooowh!
BANNISTER: Throw away that bottle of vintage food.
SEAGOON: Oooh! Granny Min – back from the dead! How long are
you staying?
BANNISTER: Me dead! Who said soooooo?
SEAGOON: The man I paid to knock you off. I mean
aaaadododoooo!
BLUEBOTTLE: Granny Min, he wants to do you in, Min.
SEAGOON: Shut up, you nutty nit or I’ll…
BLUEBOTTLE: Granny Min is gonna belt me with that dirty big saw!
SEAGOON: It’s only made of rubber, lad.
BANNISTER: Throw it away.
FX: Piece of metal hitting the floor.
BANNISTER: Ooooh!
CRUN: Sir, sir, the gamekeeper is outside with a bucket of dead water, sir.
ECCLES: Hello, master. This man’s been shooting at your
water.
BLOODNOK: I warn you, Ned the Miser. I’ll sue you for every
penny I owe you, and… (Taken a-back) Ooooooooh!
BANNISTER: (Coy) Oooooooh!
BLOODNOK: (Musical) Oooh
oooooooooooooh!
BANNISTER: (Imitating
Bloodnok) Oooooooooh!
BLOODNOK: Oooh oooooooooooh!
BANNISTER: Oooh oooooooooooh!
BLOODNOK: Ooooohohohoho!
SEAGOON: What’s on the other side?
BLOODNOK: Silence, please. What? It can’t be? Is it?
BANNISTER: Is it? It is. Dennis, isn’t it?
BLOODNOK: Yes, dear heart. And you, my childhood sweetheart
number three-four-five.
BANNISTER: Oooh! Then you remember…
BLOODNOK: Of course I remember, my dear. I have a memo on my
shins.
BANNISTER: Oooooh! Dennis, ooooh! Then you do remember me.
BLOODNOK: Of course, darling. You’re Fred Puker, the dustman
from Leeds.
BANNISTER: Ooh no. Ooh no. I’m Minnie Bannister, the
millionairess from Tring.
BLOODNOK: From Tring, oh even better. Ooh, how well I remember
the place, Tring. Tring, Tring, Tring.
FX: Door opens
ELLINGTON: You rang, sir?
BLOODNOK: What? Get out, will you.
BANNISTER: (But he’s very good.)
BLOODNOK: (Yes, he is very good.)
BANNISTER: (Very small part. Thank you.)
BLOODNOK: (Thank you.)
BANNISTER: (Next week, Manchester.)
BLOODNOK: Come, Min. Let me hold you close.
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link.
GRAMS: Howling wind.
FX: Church clock strikes twice.
GREENSLADE: That was two clocks striking one independently and
the wind is on loan. In the great Baronial phone box, Ned the Miser is plotting
to destroy Min.
SEAGOON: Mr Crun, two o clock. Time for your revenge.
CRUN: Alright, we must save my modern Min from ancient Bloodnok.
SEAGOON: Yes. Here, put this bomb in his coffee.
CRUN: Won’t it keep him awake?
SEAGOON: It will explode him! Hahahahaha!
CRUN: But Bloodnok is used to explosions.
SEAGOON: Not this kind, mate. Off you go. Hahaha. The moment
he explodes, I’ll force the old dear to change the will in my favour.
Hahahahaha! Hum hum. Hahahaa! (Coughs)
GREENSLADE: (He’s very good, you know.) And so Mr Secombe
overacts his way into another summer season at
ORCHESTRA: Very fast version of “I Want to Be Happy”
showbiz link.
MORIARTY: Grytpype, we’re on!
GRYTPYPE: Yes. Look, there’s a light in Min’s window. Load the
grandmother gun.
MORIARTY: And don’t forget, don’t shoot ‘till you see the
whites of her corsets.
GRYTPYPE: Let’s toss for who does it.
MORIARTY: Let’s use the rich penny.
GRYTPYPE: Yes, heads or tails?
MORIARTY: Yes, up she goes.
FX: Coin rattles. Door opens.
BLOODNOK: Oh! Come out, Min or I’ll… (Gulps) Huh!
FX: Coin in mug.
BLOODNOK: Ooh! I’ve swallowed a penny. I’m rich.
MORIARTY: Oh dear, don’t panic, sir. Let’s have a drink
together.
BLOODNOK: What a fine idea.
FX: Unscrew lid from bottle.
MORIARTY: Here’s to you and your penny!
BLOODNOK: Oh. Caster oil, ooh! And after that coffee… No! No!
SEAGOON: Did you say coffee?
CRUN: Has he drunk it yet, sir?
SEAGOON: I don’t…
GRAMS: Big explosion.
FX: Coin falls to floor.
BLUEBOTTLE: Hey. Eccles?
ECCLES: Yeah?
BLUEBOTTLE: ‘Ere, there’s a penny. Let’s go buy a lollypop,
shall we?
ECCLES: Oh, yeah.
ECCLES & BLUEBOTTLE:
(Sing) Half a pound of tuppenny rice.
Half
a pound of treacle.
(Self-fade) That’s
the way the money goes,
Pop
goes the weasel.[19]
GREENSLADE: (They’re very good, you know.) And yes, they appear
to have finished, so everyone back to their own beds. Goodnight.
GRAMS: Jewish mourners.
ORCHESTRA: “Old Comrades March.”
GREENSLADE: (They’re very good, you know. Very good indeed!)
RAY ELLINGTON TRIO: Playout.
YTI
