Monty Python's Flying Circus

It's...

Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Good evening.

Hello again, and welcome to the show.

Tonight we continue to look at some famous deaths.

Tonight we start with the wonderful death

of Genghis Khan, conqueror of India.

Take it away, Genghis.

Ah!

Nine-point-one, 9.3, 9.1.

That's 28.1 for Genghis Khan.

Bad luck, Genghis.

Nice to have you on the show.

And now, here are the scores.

Well, there you can see the scores, now.

St. Stephen in the lead there, with his stoning.

Then comes King Richard III at Bosworth Field.

A grand death, that.

Then the very lovely Jean d'Arc.

Then Marat in his bath.

Best of friends with Charlotte in the showers afterwards.

Then A. Lincoln of the U.S. of A. A grand little chap, that.

And at number six, Genghis Khan.

And the back marker, King Edward VII.

Back to you, Wolfgang.

Thank you, Eddie.

And now, time for this week's request death.

For Mr. and Mrs. Violet Stebbings of 23 Wolverston Road, Hull,

the death of Mr. Bruce Foster of Guildford.

Strewth!

Argh!

Oh, blimey, how time flies.

Sadly, we are reaching the end of yet another program

and so it is finale time.

We are proud to be bringing to you

one of the evergreen bucket-kickers.

Yes, the wonderful death

of the famous English Admiral Nelson.

Kiss me, Hardy!

Good evening, everyone,

and welcome to the second of our Italian language classes

in which we'll be helping you brush up your Italian.

Now, last week we started at the beginning

and we learned the Italian for "a spoon."

Now, I wonder how many of you can remember what it was.

Not all at once. Sit down, Mario. Giuseppe.

Well done, Giuseppe.

Or, as the Italians would say:

Well, now, this week

we're going to learn some useful phrases

to help us open a conversation with an Italian.

Now, first of all, try telling him where you come from.

For example, I would say:

I am an Englishman from Gerrards Cross.

Shall we all try that together?

Not too bad. Now let's try it with somebody else.

Mr...? Mariolini.

Mr. Mariolini. And where are you from?

Napoli, signor.

You're Italian? Si. Si, Si.

Well, in that case, you would say:

Yes?

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Signor, my friend, he say, why...?

Oh, Helmut, you want the German classes.

My friend, he say...

He say, why must I say, "I am Italian from Napoli"

when he lives in Milan?

Oh. Well, tell your friend

if he lives in Milan, he must say:

He say, "Milan is better than Napoli."

He shouldn't be saying that. We haven't done comparatives yet.

Yes, mothers, new, improved Whizzo butter

containing 10 percent more or less is absolutely indistinguishable from a dead crab.

Remember, buy Whizzo butter and go to heaven.

I can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and this dead crab.

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of 10 British housewives

can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead crab.

It's true, we can't. Yeah, we can't.

No. Here.

You're on television, aren't you?

Yes, yes.

Oh, yes. Yes.

He does that thing with those silly women

who can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead crab.

You try that around here, young man, and we'll slit your face.

Yeah.

Pull a razor from there to there.

Hello, good evening, and welcome to another edition of It's the Arts.

And we kick off tonight with the cinema.

Good evening. One of the most prolific of film producers of this age,

or indeed any age

is Sir Edward Ross

back in this country for the first time for five years

to open a season of his works at the National Film Theatre.

We are very fortunate to have him with us here, in the studio, this evening.

Good evening. Edward...

You don't mind if I call you Edward? No, not at all.

It does worry some people. I don't know why. Perhaps they're a little sensitive.

So I do take the precaution of asking on these occasions.

No, no, no. That's fine.

So Edward's all right. Splendid. Splendid.

I'm sorry to have brought it up, only.

No, no. Edward it is.

Well, thank you very much indeed for being so helpful.

Only it's more than my job's worth to...

Quite. Yes. Makes it rather difficult

to establish a rapport, to put the other person at their ease.

Quite. Silly little point but it seems to matter.

Still, less said, the better.

Um, Ted, when you first started in...

You don't mind if I call you Ted? No, no, no.

No, no. Everyone calls me Ted. Good, good.

It's shorter, isn't it? Yes, yes.

Yes, and much less formal. Yes, Ted, Edward, anything.

Splendid, splendid. Incidentally, do call me Tom.

I don't want you playing around with any of this "Thomas" nonsense.

Now, um, where were we? Oh, yes.

Eddie-baby, when you first started... I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I don't like being called "Eddie-baby."

I'm sorry? I don't like being called "Eddie-baby."

Did I call you "Eddie-baby"? Yes, you did.

Now, get on with it.

Don't think I called you "Eddie-baby." You did call me "Eddie-baby."

- Did I call him "Eddie-baby?" - Yes!

- Yes. - No.

I didn't really call you "Eddie-baby," did I, sweetie?

Don't call me sweetie.

Can I call you sugar plum? No.

Pussycat? No.

Angel drawers? No, you may not.

Now get on with it. Frank?

What? Can I call you Frank?

Why Frank? It's a nice name.

Robin Day's got a hedgehog called Frank.

Now, Frank... What's going on?

Frannie. Little Frannie. Frannie Knickers.

No. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm off. Frannie Knickers.

Um, tell us about your latest film, Sir Edward.

What? Tell us about your latest film,

if you'll be so kind, Sir Edward.

None of this "pussycat" nonsense?

Promise. Please, Sir Edward.

My latest film? Yes, Sir Edward.

Well, the idea, funnily enough,

came from an idea I had when I first joined the industry in 1919.

Of course, in those days I was only a tea boy.

Oh, shut up.

Sir Edward Ross.

Now, later in the program, we will bring you

a unique event in the world of modern art.

Pablo Picasso will be doing a special painting for us

on this program, live, on a bicycle.

This is the first time that Picasso has painted while cycling.

But right now, it's time to look at a man whose meteoric rise to fame...

Last week, the Royal Festival Hall

saw the first performance of a new symphony

by one of the world's leading modern composers,

Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson.

Mr. Jackson... Good evening.

May I just sidetrack you for one moment, Mr. Jackson?

This, uh... What shall I call it?

Nickname of yours.

Oh, yes. "Two Sheds."

Yes. How did you come by it?

Well, I don't use it myself.

It's just a few of my friends call me "Two Sheds."

I see. And do you, in fact, have two sheds?

No. No, I have only one shed. I've had one for some time.

But a few years ago, I said I was thinking of getting another one,

and since then, some people have called me "Two Sheds."

In spite of the fact that you have only one?

Yes. I see.

And are you thinking of purchasing a second shed?

No. To bring you in line with your epithet?

No. I see, I see.

Well, let's return to your symphony.

Now then, did you write this symphony in the shed?

No.

Have you written any of your recent works in this shed of yours?

No. It's just a perfectly ordinary garden shed.

I see.

And you're thinking of buying this second shed to write in.

No, no. Look. This shed business, it doesn't really matter at all.

The sheds aren't important.

It's just a few friends call me "Two Sheds,"

and that's all there is to it.

I wish you'd ask me about my music. I'm a composer.

People always ask about the sheds. They've got it out of proportion.

I'm fed up with the shed. I wish I'd never got it in the first place.

I expect you're probably thinking of selling one.

I will sell one.

Then you'd be Arthur "No Sheds" Jackson.