THE
PAM’S PAPER INSURANCE POLICY
GOON SHOW: TLO 70536
9TH
SERIES: No 4
RECORDED:
Script by Spike Milligan
GREENSLADE: This is the
BBC Home Service. Fraternising with the Light Programme natives is forbidden.
SECOMBE: (Cockney) Oh
yes? I seen you tip-toeing into the typist's pool after dark.
GREENSLADE: That was only for a moonlight swim, sir.
SECOMBE: A moonlight swim in your pyjamas! I don't believe my
ear trumpets.
GREENSLADE: All lies dear listeners. I wore not the pyjamas. I
wore bathing drawers of the briefest grist, and ladies have remarked on my
noble proportions.
SECOMBE: I bet they have mate. Ha ha! Now just take a gander
at this sequel to the hula-hoop.[1]
GREENSLADE: Now, let’s see. (Reading)
“Be Your Own Father – a New Genetic Game.” I say, the ladies won't
subscribe to this idea.
SECOMBE: Fear of unemployment, eh? (Megaphone) Don't worry ladies, it's only a game you know! Only a
game. Ha ho ho ho. (Normal) Here’s
another Merry Christmas game. “The Complete Home Neck Breaking Kit.” Watch.
Hup!
FX: Sledgehammer on block. Sound of
neck breaking.
GRAMS: Wild cheering. Stop suddenly.
SELLERS: (British ad
man) Yes folks, you can hear how popular a broken neck can be. Just one
downward stroke of a sledgehammer and – wow! Hear your friends laugh. And now a
word from our sponsor.
SECOMBE: Blood-orange!
SELLERS: Next week another word.[2] Forward
Nurgler Seagoon.
SECOMBE: Taa!
SELLERS: Tee!
SECOMBE: Tie!
SELLERS: Toe!
MILLIGAN: TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! All together now please:
OMNES: (Imitation) TOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
MILLIGAN: Oooo! What it is to have friends.[3] (Or
I thought I did anyhow.) Now folks, here is Mister Greenslade to make an
omni-directional announcement from the waist upwards.
SECOMBE: Come on there Wal. Give us the old posh wireless
talking there Wal.
LEW: Go on Wal, spit the words out Wal. Go on.
GREENSLADE: Ladies and gentlemen…
LEW: Cor, 'ark at dat dere!
SECOMBE: Yer, class. Real class.
GREENSLADE: Look… Quiet! Quiet!
SECOMBE: Take your glasses off Wal!
GREENSLADE: Look, because I talk proper like, nark all the old Chatham
there please. Ladies and gentlemen, the scene is a pair of trembling knees in
the
FX: Knives and forks on plates. Continue under.
GRYTPYPE: (Hums to
self.)
MORIARTY: Another plate of frugals?
GRYTPYPE: Thank you, no Moriarty. But a little more newspaper
stew.
MORIARTY: You shall have it sir. (Sings) Mlaka mlaka kou!
GRYTPYPE: We've never had it so good, Count.
MORIARTY: We've never had it so good, buddy.
GRYTPYPE: My dear pince-nez. Tell me, pince-nez, where did you
learn this foul but economical recipe?
MORIARTY: It's a family secret.
GRYTPYPE: Why?
MORIARTY: They died after the first mouthful. (And so did that
joke.) It was terrible. I had to do all the washing up myself.
GRYTPYPE: There is a possible plot for this weeks show.
MORIARTY: Ah, let me get out of the way.
GRYTPYPE: Good. Do listen carefully dear listeners – on your
attention of it depends your enjoyment. The editor of "Pam's Paper"
will pay one thousand leather pounds to the next of kin of any person who is
drowned in water, provided a copy of Pam's Paper is found on the deceased’s
body. You're wearing a deceased body, aren't you Moriarty?
MORIARTY: No, no! It’s still got power in it. Listen to these
knees…
GRAMS: Castanets at high speed.
MORIARTY: Owwwwww.
GRYTPYPE: That is power my dear pince-nez. Never mind about
that. Run out and buy a copy of Pam's Paper and we'll find a Charlie to drown,
Moriarty. (Laughs into distance) Ha
ha ho.
MORIARTY: (Laughs) Hu
hu ho.
GREENSLADE: Meantime, on-board one of Her Majesty's gas stoves
in a
FX: Hammering on anvil – continue
under.
SEAGOON: (sings) We'll
keep a welcome in the dustbins… (Raves) Ah
ha ha ha ha dee dah de! (
GRAMS: A cylinder mower cutting a swathe of grass.
Marbles into a dish. Repeat.
SEAGOON: (Calls out) Willium!
What are you doing behind that bush?.
WILLIUM: Shaving mate. I had a sudden attack of 'airs.
SEAGOON: Well hurry up! There's other people waiting.
WILLIUM: I thought you was trying to cut down on bushes,
mate.[4]
SEAGOON: Idle gossip I tell you, idle gossip.
GRAMS: Hedge warbler chirruping. Continue behind.
SEAGOON: Listen! An English bird in full throated cry. Oh a
part of
GRAMS: Gunshot. Pre-recording of Eccles
screaming. Speed up at the end.
SEAGOON: Ha ha, ha ha. Got him! – right in the primaries.
ECCLES: (Distant) You
fooool! Look what you done to my fairy
cakes.
SEAGOON: Oh, naughty me.
ECCLES: (Approaching) You
naughty man! These fairy cakes are heirlooms.
SEAGOON: (Close) Dear
listeners, let me describe this crutty herbet. He was covered from head to foot
in hand painted chicken feathers and standing in a tree.
ECCLES: Eeh! Why has this tree stopped?
SEAGOON: It's got a puncture.
ECCLES: Aoowwwww ghhhhhoooowgh ghoaaw ghauwwwww… I said.
SEAGOON: Come down nitty nong, and warm yourself by this
roaring lion.
ECCLES: Oh, ta. I'm going to let you into a secret. I'm breaking
a world record.
SEAGOON: Really? Tell the folks. (Megaphone) Listen to this folks! Why should I suffer alone?
ECCLES: (I do.) Folks, if I go on wearing these chicken
feathers for the next eighty nine years, I'll break the worlds bird impression
record and win the golden nest egg.
SEAGOON: Gad! You parents must be proud of you.
ECCLES: Well actually they're not.
SEAGOON: Well do a bird impression for the folks.
ECCLES: Okay. I'll do a bird impression for the folks. (pause) Ahem. Bang! Ahhhh, owww
owwarghhhawwworg…
SEAGOON: What bird was that?
ECCLES: Dat was the one you've just shot! (Laughs) Ha ha ha ha ha! You're a funny man Eccles! (Laughs) Ha ha ha – Eccles you're a funny man!
WILLIUM: You're a twit mate. Now go on, be off with you mate!
Go on!
ECCLES: Well – before I be off, I'll do an impression of Max
Geldray's nose.
GRAMS: Queen Mary fog-horn.
GELDRAY: Oh boy, at last the conk is getting a break.
MAX
GELDRAY – “I Cried for You” [5]
GREENSLADE: Mister Geldray is now willing to sign autographs.
SEAGOON: (Willing? He's desperate mate.)
GREENSLADE: Be that as it may – me – mi – mo - mew. But will you
please take up your positions for part two. On your mark, get set, GO!
FX: Pistol shot.
GRAMS: Thunder of running boots speeding up running
into distance.
SEAGOON: STOP! Look! What's that lying there on the road
gasping?
MORIARTY: (Faint) Owwwww.
WILLIUM: Oh, it's a friend of man – a fully mature, clean
shaven, world war one doughnut.
SEAGOON: Gad – so it is! Form a cauldron around it.
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded) MORIARTY:
(Echo)
Allaboulloughah bowwwlegh hhowough powwwrgh… &c
WILLIUM: 'Ere, there's
some nit inside it. I'm off!
GRAMS: Whoosh.
SEAGOON: (Calls) Whoever
you are in that donut, come out!
MORIARTY: (echo –
muffled) Don't shoot, come-out! We're coming up in the direction of up.
GRAMS: Old fashioned lift coming up. Lift doors
clank open.
FLOWERDEW: Top floor – blouses, Liz Curran and certain
appliances.
SEAGOON: The door of the doughnut opened and out stepped two
well endowed men, facing east.
GRYTPYPE: Don't panic Ned. Put down that loaded Eccles. We are
but honest doughnut miners.
SEAGOON: Miners? Mining for what?
GRYTPYPE: Jam.
SEAGOON: (Laughs) Ha
ha ha! Jam the man says. There hasn't been jam in doughnuts since before the
war.
MORIARTY: Argh no? Look at this!
SEAGOON: Gad! Dear loosteners, there gleaming on a slice of
Moriarty's bread was a piece of genuine, uncut jam.
MORIARTY: Ah, ha, ha, ha! And there's more where that came from.
GRYTPYPE: Yes Neddie.
SEAGOON: Gad! I wish I could strike jam.
GRYTPYPE: You can Ned. (Laughs)
Heu heu heu heugh!
MORIARTY: Oh yes, yes.
GRYTPYPE: Join us and become a merry singing jam miner in this
key.
CAST: (Sing to the tune of “Tramp,
tramp tramp the boys are marching.”)[6]
Jam ,jam, jam the boys are marching,
Jam, jam, jam forever more.
If you have to get some more,
you can scrape it off the floor,
jam, jam, jam, forever more!
SEAGOON: Gad! What a wonderful start.
GRYTPYPE: Now Ned, your entrance fee. Have you any securities?
[7]
GRAMS: Pair
of feet running off into distance.
MORIARTY: (Hums to self.
Extended.)
GRYTPYPE: (To audience) This
thing takes a lot of nerve you know.
GRAMS: Pair of feet running back again. Gradually
slows to a stop.
MORIARTY: Here he comes back again. Welcome back Neddie.
SEAGOON: (out of
breath) Here, fifty pounds insurance.
FX: Cash register.
GRYTPYPE: And there is your jam miners ticket. Moriarty, take
him somewhere while I arrange his drowning.
MORIARTY: I'll do that.
GRYTPYPE: (Close) …and
don't forget the copy of Pam's Paper on the naughty body.
MORIARTY: (Close) Just
for the plot.
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
MORIARTY: Come Neddie, let us dine in the manner which we are
accustomed. Namely food.
SEAGOON: Yes! (Calls) Taxi!
GRAMS: Small explosion.
SPRIGGS: Where to Jim? (Sings)
Where to Ji-mmmmm?
SEAGOON: Part three, and don't strain yourself.
SPRIGGS: (Sings) Hold
tight Jimmmmm.
GRAMS: Cart horse slowly clopping away.
GREENSLADE: Meantime in part three, a hotel chef has had a
terrible accident.
GRAMS: Cannon fires a shell.
BLOODNOK: Oh!
GRAMS: Terrible explosion as shell hits building – walls falling in – pantry shelving
collapsing. Pots, pans etc.
BLOODNOK: Oh, open a window will you! The gas stove’s
exploded. Oh dear, all my English pizza ruined. Never mind – it was only a B
pizza.[8]
GRAMS: Large explosion. Cut it short.
SEAGOON: Hello, we've come here to dine.
BLOODNOK: Oh, welcome to Chez di Customers, mon-sewer.
SEAGOON: Merci, merci vous etez
très gentile, mon ami.
BLOODNOK: Speak English, you ignorant swine, will you!
MORIARTY: Bloodnok, how dare you insult this ignorant swine!
BLOODNOK: I beg your pardon. I had no idea that you were an
ignorant swine. Allow me to show you to
your table des
SEAGOON: Ta. I say, why are you smothered in rice pudding?
BLOODNOK: I'm trying to keep it at body temperature.
SEAGOON: Splondeed! Splondeed! Now, could we have the menu?
BLOODNOK: I'm sorry the menu is off. Something else, perhaps?
The bill – the l'additions – or something?[9]
SEAGOON: I know where I've seen you.
BLOODNOK: What?
SEAGOON: You're Major Bloodnok.
BLOODNOK: Right first time.
SEAGOON: I recognise your old army boots.
BLOODNOK: Oh yes. I always wear 'em you know.
SEAGOON: Why?
BLOODNOK: I can't get 'em off as a matter of fact. And you! I...
Wait a minute ... Where's my old pictures? I've got 'em here somewhere... Of
course! I recognise that thrilling sticking plaster – you're private Ned
Seagoon. Well, well, well, well! People told me you were dead.
SEAGOON: What people?
BLOODNOK: The ones that saw you on television recently.[10]
SEAGOON: What, what, what. Lies, all lies! Hello folks, hello
folks! At the range of revenue I sing louder than Adele Leigh . . .[11]
(sings) We'll keep a dustbin in the Yakka Ba Kakka.
MORIARTY: He's only joking Neddie, don't get us so upset
Neddie!
SEAGOON: (But why does he have to tell the truth?)
MORIARTY: I don't know.
BLOODNOK: Ned, I hear you've just matured an insurance policy.
SEAGOON: True.
BLOODNOK: Now Ned, d’you remember that during the war I
borrowed a hundred pounds off you?
SEAGOON: Yes.
BLOODNOK: Well, I'm perfectly willing to forget all about it and
let bygones be bygones. Now Ned, can I interest you in a few shares in an
exploding knee industry?
MORIARTY: Don't listen Neddie! He's a ch… A creat! A cheat! A
crook! He's a blackguard! I don’t…
BLOODNOK: Take that!
FX: Shovel on anvil.
MORIARTY: Oooowwww ... A creat! A cheat! A crook! He's a
blackguard! I don’t…
BLOODNOK: Take that!
FX: Shovel on anvil.
MORIARTY: Oooowwww!
BLOODNOK: Massage his head with a shovel.
FX: Shovel on anvil.
MORIARTY: Arrwwwgghh!
BLOODNOK: See that bottle of water on the mantel piece?
SEAGOON: Is it yours?
BLOODNOK: Last night I crept down to the river
SEAGOON: What a thrilling life you lead.
BLOODNOK: Yes. I have discovered Neddie, that the river
SEAGOON: Fool! Ha, ha, ha!
BLOODNOK: Ah, but there have been signs – things floating in
the river you know, that show there are sort of low form of life over there,
you know.[12]
SEAGOON: How long will it take to cross?
BLOODNOK: Four months as the crow flies. Of course, if you go
to
SEAGOON: But isn't that the… the danger route?
BLOODNOK: It's hell over there I tell you. Only last week an
old lady fell off her electric stilts, and – well, I'm afraid she'll never live
again.
SEAGOON: You're right – it's better by raft. I'll join 'e
matey.
BLOODNOK: Good 'e matey. Now take this pen and sign on a
prize crew.[13]
ORCHESTRA: Nautical theme.
GRAMS: Gaggle of people talking in echoing room.
GREENSLADE: The sounds you hear are second rate extras chosen
for their inferior quality to allow mister Secombe's slender talents to shine.
SEAGOON: (I'll see you outside mate. I couldn't miss ya.)
Ahem. (Announces) Men of old
Deptford, you're all naughty sons of the sea.
BLUEBOTTLE: I'm not. I was born on dry land, I was. The Fred Kwinge
ward.
SEAGOON: Right. Take one pace forward.
GRAMS: Pair of boots march two steps up. Slapstick.
BLUEBOTTLE: Aiiie!
SEAGOON: Right. Now one pace back, you spotty herbet.
BLUEBOTTLE: You rotten twinick! Why don't you pick on somebody
your own size?
SEAGOON: That's the trouble, (weeping) – there is nobody my size!
BLUEBOTTLE: Can I go home now? I've got to get my ear bandaged –
I just bit it.
SEAGOON: How did you manage to bite your ear?
BLUEBOTTLE: I stood on a chair! Hee hee…
SEAGOON: Stop that laughing! I'm the funny man in this bit. Now,
those who want to sail on the cross
GRAMS: Massed boots running away.
ELLINGTON: I wonder where he hides that stuff?
RAY
ELLINGTON QUARTET -
“Odd
Man Out”
FX: Multiple slapsticks.
MORIARTY: (Screaming) Aww,
arghh, ahwie… &c
(Silence)
FX: Multiple slapsticks again.
MORIARTY: (Screaming) Aww,
arghh, ahwie… &c
GRYTPYPE: (Over) There!
Take that! &c
FX: Slapsticks stop.
GRYTPYPE: There! Let that clubbing be a lesson to you – you
crutty French schlapper.[14] I
turn my back and you let Neddie get into the opiate brown power of Bloodnok.
FX: Single slapstick.
MORIARTY: (Screams)
ARGHH! (Abject) I'm… I’m sorry Grytpype. Sorry, pronounced…
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded – huge echo) MORIARTY: I'm
sorry Grytpype!
GRYTPYPE: All right then, Moriarty.
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded – huge echo – speed it up.)
MORIARTY: I'm sorry
Grytpype!
GRYTPYPE: Don't cringe to me you fool.
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded – huge echo – lower the
speed.) MORIARTY: I'm sorry
Grytpype!
(extended)
GRYTPYPE: I can't bear you saying it once! Three times is too
much!
GRAMS: (Pre-recorded – huge echo – at a variety of
speeds.) MORIARTY: I'm
sorry Grytpype!
I'm sorry Grytpype! I'm sorry Grytpype! I'm sorry
Grytpype!
&c
GRYTPYPE: You're sorry?
GRAMS: (Repeat at a wild variety of speeds. Overlay
multi-tracks.)
MORIARTY: I'm sorry
Grytpype! I'm sorry Grytpype! I'm sorry
Grytpype! I'm sorry Grytpype! I'm sorry Grytpype! &c
GRYTPYPE: I've heard that somewhere before. Get into this
cannon, Moriarty.
GRAMS: Explosion.
MORIARTY: (Into
distance.) AAAAAAAWWWWWW…
GRYTPYPE: Consider yourself fired. Fortunately, by walking
with a limp, I placed a limpet mine under their raft. (Don't forget folks –
they are on a raft.)
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link.
GRAMS: Waves, seagulls over.
BANERJEE: Get! Shoo, shoo! Get away! Get away! But look! Ohh
dear! Kolkata ciriya.[15] Good
heavens! I don't know what. European Bloodnok says the raft must be finished
today.
LALKAKA: It is man. It will be finished today – definitely finished.
Now don't panic man. Everything in the garden is indeed lovely, I'm telling you.
BANERJEE: Lovely, lovely, lovely. Lovely he says. Lovely! I'm
down to my last loin cloth and not a sign of any curry powder from the old
country. Everything is lovely he said! Everything is lovely!
LALKAKA: But listen, listen!
BANERJEE: Kya karta hai? (Extended)
LALKAKA: Listen to me Banerjee. Looking on the opamatistic
side, man. Two things can happen. One – that we finish it, and two that we do
not finish it. And if we don't finish it, well that is definitely the finish of
it.
BANERJEE: What are you saying man? What are you saying! We
don't finish it, that is the finish of it. You're up the duff I tell you.
LALKAKA: What I said was grammatically correct, I'm telling
you. It is just that you have never been to
SEAGOON: This is the raft finished?
BLOODNOK: It's floating and that's good enough for me. We
shall sail with the tide. Hoist the
mast! We shall have to wait for the wind.
SEAGOON: With you aboard we shouldn't have to wait too long.
BLOODNOK: WHAT?! Now I
want you to keep this copy of ‘Pam's Paper’ on your body.
SEAGOON: Oh, thank you. It fits perfectly.
BLOODNOK: Well, I chose it myself.
SEAGOON: (coily) Oh,
thank you…
BLOODNOK: Not at all.
SEAGOON: What about navigators?
BLOODNOK: I never wear navigators! This man will be he – he he
he he!
FX: Bird call whistle.
SEAGOON: Of course! Do you remember me?
FX: Pistol shot.
ECCLES: Owww! You fool! My new fairy cakes.
SEAGOON: This man is no good. He's perforated below the water
line.
BLOODNOK: What? He's brilliant I tell you. Eccles, did you
know that the
ECCLES: Two hundred and eighteen miles long, ehi?
BLOODNOK: And you know it's thirty yards wide?
ECCLES: Thirty yards wide.
BLOODNOK: You see he has the answer to both questions.
SEAGOON: Ahh, you know how wide it is; you know how long it
is, but – can you tell me where the source is?
ECCLES: Oh, I think it's on the dinner table. (Laughs) Ha ha ho ho – you're a funny
man Eccles!
BLOODNOK: Yes. Pity about that, but proof positive. Well, cast
off. (I'll just strap on these fifty life belts for a joke.) The dreaded
ORCHESTRA: Nautical theme.
GRAMS: Distant fog horns – continue in behind.
BLUEBOTTLE: (Shadowing
Greenslade)
GREENSLADE: Meantime on the dreaded north bank, the editors of
Pam's Paper, which if you remember are offering one thousand pounds for… (They both stop.)
BLUEBOTTLE: Get on with it will you! – keeping me hanging round.
I'm only wearing shorts in this fog, you know.
GREENSLADE: Ahem. On the mysterious north bank, we find the
editors of ‘Pam's Paper’ enveloped in fog.
GRAMS: Queen Mary foghorn.
BLOODNOK: (Distant) Ohhhhhhh
ohhh!
CRUN: Oh dear, what a night it's going to be Min.
BANNISTER: Ohhhh!
GRAMS: Multiple fog horns together.
CRUN: Ohhhhh, ohhhh
GRAMS: Foghorn plays low note.
ORCHESTRA: Baritone sax replies.
CRUN: Put your saxophone away Min, will you.
BANNISTER: I wish it was. It's something crossing the river
Henry! And don't forget that Lord Pugh
is coming tomorrow. Ahi Pugggheeee!
CRUN: It's not Pugh Min. It's pronounced "Pheeeeeewwwww."
BANNISTER: Oh, that's dangerous Henry. Mnk… supposing somebody
recognise(s) him on the tram and shouts "PHEEEWWW!" It could put the
trams off their food.
GRAMS: Crash followed by explosion.
BANNISTER: Owwww!
SEAGOON: (Distant) AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!
CRUN: Min – somebody's drowning! Bring the Irish Stew.
BANNISTER: What for?
CRUN: I love Irish Stew.[17]
SEAGOON: (Distant)
Help, help! My legs don't reach the bottom.
BANNISTER: He must be deformed!
CRUN: (Calls out) What's happening
out there?
LITTLE JIM: (Shouts) He's
fallen in the water!
CRUN: Ned, catch this dry suit of clothes.
SEAGOON: (Distant) Thank
you. Here's a receipt.
GRYTPYPE: Blast Moriarty, he's still alive.
ECCLES: Argh! (Gasping
for breath.) Pardon me. (Oh dear, what a swim!) Ha, owww, are you natives
of the dreaded north bank?
GRYTPYPE: Er… yes, yes. Welcome white man. Just put this Pam's
Paper in your pocket.
ECCLES: Oh ta!
MORIARTY: Now close your eyes Eccles. Together – (effort) huh!
GRAMS: Body into water.
ECCLES: (Close) You're
wrong folks I stepped to one side. (Laughs)
Ha ha ha! (Surprised) Argh…
GRAMS: Body into water. Flailing in water.
ECCLES: (Distant) Who
did that to me?
GREENSLADE: That's it folks, I've got to dash. I've got to an
insurance company. (Surprised) Ow…
GRAMS: Body into water.
SEAGOON: Wrong again folks. (Laughs) Ha ha ha! Well it's a happy ending isn’t it![18]
ORCHESTRA: “Old Comrades March.”
STUDIO ANNOUNCER: That was the Goon Show, featuring Peter Sellers,
Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max
Geldray. The orchestra was conducted by
Wally Stott, the script was by Spike Milligan, the announcer was Wallace
Greenslade and the program was produced by John Browel.
ORCHESTRA: Playout.
YTI 