It's That Man Again

Morning, Mr Mayor.

Good morning, my good man.

Did you have to sweep the high street in Acacia Avenue? Look at the time.

- What's your watch say? - Tick tick.

- Ah, Mr Town Clerk. - Mr Mayor, this really isn't fair.

The Council's in session, and you're not there.

Well, I got to the foot of our stair. Get somebody else to take the chair.

But I can't balance the rates.

Well in that case I'd better juggle with the petty cash.

Ninepence returned empty,

ten of each way, Fetlock Fanny,

one on Fulton's Hush Money.

That's a throw away two, carry nine, fly away Peter, fly away

four apples a pound, pears, watermelons we have none, put down those plums.

No, it's no good. I shall have to raise the rates again.

- Hello? - This is Funf speaking.

Oh, a Funf call, eh?

Beware, Mr Mayor. Your end is in sight.

Good Lord, is my shirt hanging out?

You won't hang out much longer, Handly.

Funf will get you. Funf has spoken.

Oh, go and strain your cabbage water. He can't frighten me.

Says you.

Now, let me see, where was I?

Oh, ten bob to come back from the dogs,

two shillings for secondhand suite tickets,

And there's a—hey, where are you going?

This the way to the stables?

That's right, straight through and up the stairs.

This place is about as private as a cup final.

What am I talking about? We haven't got any stables.

Hey.

Excuse?

Well, if it isn't old ping-pong pants, what do you want?

Please mister, you give me permission to peddle on your pier?

Certainly not.

Any other town I peddle where I like?

Well you can't peddle here, it upsets my curriculum.

Oh, pity, no, me, mister, please. I sell you very nice toffee onion?

Very pongy, very sticky.

No thanks, I don't smoke.

- No like him? - No.

- No, no, mister— - What?

You buy nice pretty postcard. Very pretty lady. Very warm, very saucy.

How dare you. Let's have a look.

No, no, no. Four shillings for look.

I wouldn't give you a fourpence for the lot.

Now go on, hop it and don't darken my dado again.

- Oh mister. - Go on.

- Mister. - What?

I go.

I come back.

I don't care if you never come back.

And now, back to the chiseling.

These marbles are leading me up the wrong alley.

I'll try my Wall Street account.

Now let me see.

Bears, bears, two bears, four bulls, two nanny goats.

Price putting a victim down, divide by sixteen.

Move to the right in fours.

- I say, what— - Can I do you now, sir?

Well crack me on the cranium, if it isn't Mrs Mopp,

the char with the bottomless bucket.

Can I—can I wring you out, sir?

What do you think I am, the old year?

I think you're an old rascal, sir.

You've been reading my diary.

I've, I've brought this for you, sir.

Ah, my robe of office.

Help me on with it, Mrs Mopp. I'm expecting a summons at any moment.

Oh, another of them nasty things, sir?

I mean from the council chamber.

I believe they wish to pay me the honor—

Oh, then I can have me back wages, sir?

Pay me the honor of reelecting me for a further term.

- Oh. - Don't jump to conclusions.

And go easy round Tappenham Corner.

I've mended the rend in the rear, sir.

Yes, and you've brushed off all the banquet stains.

I shan't get any more till after the war, and they were vintage ones, too.

Now where's my chain of office?

- I haven't seen it lately, sir. - Come on, help me look for it.

Hey, boss. Hey, boss.

Something terrible's happened.

Not now, Sam, we haven't any time for accidents this morning.

Help me to look for my chain.

- Ta-ta for now. - We'll meet at the plow.

Oh, I, I chanced to confine a cantering canine with your choice chain, and—

and the canine was chased by a cantankerous cat,

and careened quickly across the corner, carrying the chain conspicuously.

- I beg your pardon? - Oh, oh, oh.

Listen, Sam, can't you ever make a dry statement?

You mean you tied a dog to the end of my chain of office and he's scarpered?

Sure, boss. Am I humiliated!

Am I undone?

But the dog, boss.

I don't want to put on the dog, I want to put on me chain.

But the dog forgot to leave the chain behind when he left. See?

Quick, quick. After him, Sam.

- And don't forget to wear your muzzle. - Sure, boss.

I'll see you at Barking.

Mr Mayor? They're shouting for you in there.

I've got the whole thing clear.

What? You've balanced the rates?

- Without turning a hair. - Good.

I'll face them without further demur.

The more the merrier.

Aha.

Ah. That's better. Well, come on.

Oh, I'd better take my accounts with me.

Pray, silence, for his worship, the Mayor.

Gentlemen, you may remain seated.

Ah. Nice weather we're having for this time of the year.

Well, perhaps you're right.

Is this the Reichstag or the Wrongstag?

Don't do that to me.

And know ye by all these presents—

Ah, thank you very much.

I'll unveil the presents tomorrow and they'd better be good.

Members of the Council of Foaming-at-the-Mouth,

may I be the first to congratulate you

at having re-elected me as Mayor for a further term?

Never mind that cackle.

Now, Handley,

we want to know what you've done with all the money in the town's treasury.

How ever did you find out it wasn't there?

I wanted it to be a surprise.

If you don't return that money at once, we'll throw you into jail.

Throw me into my own jail?

Don't be so salamony— and he threw me into my own jail.

I've never laughed so much since I kissed my

mother-in-law with a lighted cigar in my mouth.

Gentlemen, we must place this in the hands of the police.

Yes.

Mr Town Clerk, fetch the Superintendent.

This has gone far enough.

In fact, it's gone too far.

Why, for two pennies I'd resign as Mayor.

Well why don't you resign?

Resign! Resign!

Get the chains, eh?

Here, here!

Here, give me that chain.

Well gentlemen, that concludes the business for today.

The meeting is now adjourned.

- What did you do with the money? - Yes sir, what did you do with the money?

- Well, I very wisely invested it. - In what?

In a—in a game of poker.

Poker?

Pray, pray, pray, silence for his turn of the card.

I mean, His Worship the Mayor.

When I said poker, I really meant that I applied the rules

of an ancient and dishonorable game to matters of high finance.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, do my old eyes deceive me, especially this one?

Do I see a look of suspicion lurking on your dubious dials?

Shame on you, you shambling shysters.

Never in my life... Hey, haven't you found those stables yet?

No.

All right, I'll come and show you where you are.

No, you don't.

Oh, I see.

Now, Handley, what have you to say?

Well, with the town's money and my pack of cards,

Foaming-at-the-Mouth now owns the lease of the

Olympian Theatre, the finest theatre in London.

You have the audacity to admit that you invested our money in a theatre?

- That's right. - And a London theatre, too?

- Yes. - It's a scandal.

It's disgusting.

And I suppose you intend to fill it with half-clothed women.

Carried unanimously.

That's an idea, Fennell.

I'll put on a review.

I'll call it "Parlez-vudenude."

That's French for "Gone With The Windmill."

Mr Handley.

If you don't return the money immediately,

you'll be charged with embezzlement of municipal funds.

Emboozlement of the foozlement titifullow?

How dare you, you cad!

Hear them out there?

My creditors! I mean my champions.

My faithful supporters.

The common people.

They know their mayor.

They trust their mayor.

They love their mayor.

My friends.

Well, that's the first tomato I've tasted since they were controlled.

This nonsense has gone far enough.

Where's that Superintendent?

Hey, boss, something terrible! He's chasing me now! Oh!

Oh, okay boss! I got the chain!

Well hurry, that's good! Keep moving!

Here, here.

- What's this? - What?

Can't get away with bus tickets.

Oh, well they're beautiful tickets.

- Very good, gentlemen. - Hey, just a minute.

This way out.