ARGUMENT - The Argument sketch from "Live at City Center"
BISHOP   - The Dead Bishop on the Landing sketch from "Live at City Center"
BLCKMAIL - Blackmail!  The TV Game show from "Live at City Center" and "Flying Circus"
BOOKSHOP - The Bookshop sketch from "Flying Circus" and "Live at the Hollywood Bowl"
BRIAN    - The opening song from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
BRIDGE   - The Bridgekeeper scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
BRUCE    - The Australian sketch from "Live at City Center" (Includes "The Philosophers' Song")
CAMELOT  - The Camelot song from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
CHEESE   - The Cheese Shop sketch from "The instant Monty Python Record Coll."
DEAD     - The "Bring Out Your Dead" scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
DEMANDS  - The Front Demands scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
FRENCH   - The French castle scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
FROG     - The "Crunchy Frog" sketch from "Live at the Hollywood Bowl" and "Live at City Center"
GALAXY   - The Galaxy song from "Monty Python's Meaning of Life"
GRAIL    - The Blessing from the Lord scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
GRENADE  - The Holy Hand Grenade scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
HAGGLE   - The Market Haggling scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
JAIL     - The Brian in Jail scene in "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
LUMBERJK - The Lumberjack song from "Flying Circus"
MEDOCTOR - The hilarious "Me, Doctor?" scene from "Flying Circus"
NI       - The Knights Who Say Ni  scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
PEASANT  - The Peasant scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
PENGUIN  - The Penguin on top of the Television Set from "Flying Circus" and
           "And Now for Somthing Completely Different"
PETSHOP  - The Dead Parrot Sketch from "Flying Circus" and "And Now For Something Completely Different"
PILATE   - The Pilate's Chamber scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
RIGHTS   - The Inalienable Rights scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
ROBIN    - The song of Sir Robin from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
SHEEP    - The sheep in the trees sketch from the first episode of "Monty Python's Flying Circus"
STRING   - The advertising sketch from "The instant Monty Python Record Coll."
SWAMP    - The complete Swamp Castle scene (The Tale of Sir Launcelot) from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
WISEMEN  - The nativity scene from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"
WITCH    - The famous Witch Burning scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****   The argument sketch
****   from Monty Python Live at City Center and Monty Python's Flying Circus
A man walks into an office.
Man: Good morning, I'd like to have an argument, please.
Receptionist: Certainly, sir.  Have you been here before?
Man: No, this is my first time.
Receptionist: I see, well we'll see who's free at the moment.
              Mr. Bakely's free, but he's a little bit concilliatory.  No.
              Try Mr. Barnhart, room 12.
Man: Thank you.
He enters room 12.
Man: Well, Well, I was told outside that...
Man: What?
M: Yes, but I came here for an argument!!
A: OH!  Oh!  I'm sorry!  This is abuse!
M: Oh!  Oh I see!
A: Aha!  No, you want room 12A, next door.
M: Oh...Sorry...
A: Not at all!
A: (under his breath) stupid git.
The man goes into room 12A.  Another man is sitting behind a desk.
Man: Is this the right room for an argument?
Other Man:(pause) I've told you once.
Man:  No you haven't!
Other Man: Yes I have.
M: When?
O: Just now.
M: No you didn't!
O: Yes I did!
M: You didn't!
O: I did!
M: You didn't!
O: I'm telling you, I did!
M: You didn't!
O: Oh I'm sorry, is this a five minute argument, or the full half hour?
M: Ah!  (taking out his wallet and paying) Just the five minutes.
O: Just the five minutes.  Thank you.
O: Anyway, I did.
M: You most certainly did not!
O: Now let's get one thing perfectly clear: I most definitely told you!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh no you didn't!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: No you DIDN'T!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: No you DIDN'T!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: No you DIDN'T!
O: Oh yes I did!
M: Oh look, this isn't an argument!
O: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
M: It's just contradiction!
O: No it isn't!
M: It IS!
O: It is NOT!
M: You just contradicted me!
O: No I didn't!
M: You DID!
O: No no no!
M: You did just then!
O: Nonsense!
M: (exasperated) Oh, this is futile!!
O: No it isn't!
M: Yes it is!
M: I came here for a good argument!
O: AH, no you didn't, you came here for an argument!
M: An argument isn't just contradiction.
O: Well!  it CAN be!
M: No it can't!
M: An argument is a connected series of statement intended to establish a
O: No it isn't!
M: Yes it is!  'tisn't just contradiction.
O: Look, if I *argue* with you, I must take up a contrary position!
M: Yes but it isn't just saying "no it isn't".
O: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
O: Yes it is!
M: No it isn't!
O: Yes it is!
M: No it ISN'T!  Argument is an intellectual process.  Contradiction is just
   the automatic gainsaying of anything the other person says.
O: It is NOT!
M: It is!
O: Not at all!
M: It is!
The Arguer hits a bell on his desk and stops.
O: Thank you, that's it.
M: (stunned) What?
O: That's it.  Good morning.
M: But I was just getting interested!
O: I'm sorry, the five minutes is up.
M: That was never five minutes!!
O: I'm afraid it was.
M: (leading on)  No it wasn't.....
O: I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to argue any more.
O: If you want me to go on arguing, you'll have to pay for another five
M: But that was never five minutes just now!
   Oh Come on!
   Oh this is...
   This is ridiculous!
O: I told you...
   I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you PAY!
M: Oh all right.  (takes out his wallet and pays again.)  There you are.
O: Thank you.
M: (clears throat) Well...
O: Well WHAT?
M: That was never five minutes just now.
O: I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid!
M: Well I just paid!
O: No you didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I DID!!!
O: YOU didn't!
M: I-dbct-fd-tq! I don't want to argue about it!
O: Well I'm very sorry but you didn't pay!
M: Ah hah!  Well if I didn't pay, why are you arguing???  Ah HAAAAAAHHH!
O: No you haven't!
M: Yes I have!
   If you're arguing, I must have paid.
O: Not necessarily.
   I *could* be arguing in my spare time.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*** The Dead Bishop on the Landing by Python's Flying Circus.***
Mother: (turning off radio) liberal rubbish!  Klaus!
Klaus: Yeah?
M: Whaddaya want with yer jugged fish?
K: 'Alibut.
M: The jugged fish IS 'alibut!
K: Well, what fish 'ave you got that isn't jugged?
M: Rabbit.
K: What, rabbit fish?
M: Uuh, yes...it's got fins....
K: Is it dead?
M: Well, it was coughin' up blood last night.
K: All right, I'll have the dead unjugged rabbit fish.
  (voice over): one dead unjugged rabbit fish later:
K: (putting down his knife and fork) Well, that was really 'orrible.
M: Aaw, you're always complainin'!
K: Wha's for afters?
M: Rat cake, rat sorbet, rat pudding, or strawberry tart.
K: (eyes lighting up) Strawberry tart?
M: Well, it's got *some* rat in it.
K: 'Ow much?
M: Three.  A lot, really.
K: Well, I'll have a slice without so much rat in it.
   voice over: One slice of strawberry tart without so much rat in it later:
K: (putting down fork and knife) Appalling.
M: Naw, naw, naw!
Son: (coming in the door) 'Ello Mum. 'Ello Dad.
K: 'Ello son.
S: There's a dead bishop on the landing, dad!
K: Really?
M: Where's it from?
S: Waddya mean?
M: What's its diocese?
S: Well, it looked a bit Bath and Wells-ish to me...
K: (getting up and going out the door) I'll go and have a look.
M: I don't know...kids bringin' 'em in here....
S: It's not me!
M: I've got three of 'em down by the bin, and the dustmen won't touch 'em!
K: (coming back in) Leicester.
M: 'Ow d'you know?
K: Tattooed on the back o' the neck.  I'll call the police.
M: Shouldn't you call the church?
S: Call the church police!
K: All right.  (shouting) The Church Police!
(sirens racing up, followed by a tremendous crash)
(the church police burst in the door)
Detective: What's all this then, Amen!
M: Are you the church police?
All the police officers: (in unison) Ho, Yes!
(MAINE)CSNEWS - The EARNET   to ICINECA  link is down (Inactive)
M: There's another dead bishop on the landing, vicar sargeant!
Detective: Uh, Detective Parson, madam.  I see... suffrican, or diocisian?
M: 'Ow should I know?
D: It's tatooed on the back o' their neck.  (spying the tart) 'Ere, is that rat
M: yes.
D: Disgusting!  Right!  Men, the chase is on!  Now we should all kneel!
   (they all kneel)
All: O Lord, we beseech thee, tell us 'oo croaked Lester!
Voice of the Lord: The one in the braces, he done it!
Klaus: It's a fair cop, but society's to blame.
Detective: Agreed.  We'll be charging them too.
K: I'd like you to take the three boddlabin into consideration.
D: Right.  I'll now ask you all to conclude this harrest with a hymn.
All: All things bright and beautiful,
     All creatures great and small,
     All things wise and wonderful,
     The church has nigged them all.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  BLACKMAIL!!!!!
**** from "Monty Python Live at City Center 1974"
(Music up-- wild applause and cheers from the audience)
Hello!  Hello!  Hello!  Thank you,thank you.
Hello good evening and welcome, to BLACKMAIL!  Yes, it's another edition of
the game in which you can play with *yourself*.  (applause)
And to start tonight's show, let's see our first contestant, all the way from
Manchester, on the big screen please:  MRS. BETTY TEAL!
(applause, which suddenly stops when the clap track tape breaks)
'Ello, Mrs. Teal, lovely to have you on the show.  Now Mrs. Teal, if you're
looking in tonight, this is for 15 pounds: and is to stop us from revealing
the name of your LOVER IN BOULTON!!  So, Mrs. Teal, send us 15 pounds, by
return of post please, and your husband Trevor, and your lovely children
Diane, Janice, and Juliet, need never know the name... of your LOVER IN
(applause; organ music)
Thank you Onan!  And now: a letter, a hotel registration book, and a series of
photographs, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible
criminal proceedings for a company director in Bromsgrove.  He's a freemason,
and a conservative M.P., so that's 3,000 pounds please Mr. S... thank you...
to stop us from revealing:
     Your name
     The name of the three other people involved,
     The youth organization to which they belonged,
 and The shop where you bought the equipment!
(organ music)
But right now, yes everyone is the moment you've all been waiting for; it's
time for our Stop the Film spots!  As you know, the rules are very simple.  We
have taken a film which contains compromising scenes and unpleasant details
which could wreck a man's career.  (gasp)  But, the victim may 'phone me at
any moment, and stop the film.  But remember the money increases as the film
goes on, so,.... the longer you leave it, the more you have to pay!  Tonight,
Stop the Film visits the little Thames-side village of Thames Ditton.
(music--announcer's voice over)
Well, here we go, here we go now, let's see...where's our man.
Oh yes, there he is behind the tree now....
Mm, boy, this is fun, this is good fun....
He looks respectable, so we should be in for some real...real shucks here....
A member of the government, could be a brain surgeon, they're the worst....
wHOW!  Look at the *size* of that.....briefcase.
Aah, yes, he's, he's up to the door, rung the doorbell now....
O-oh, who's the little number with the nightie and the whip, eh?  Heh-heh.
Doesn't look like his mother....could be his sister....
If it is he's in real trouble....
And just look at that, they're upstairs already... whoah, boy, this is fun!
A very brave man, our contestant tonight.
Who-ho-ho!!  This is no Tupperware party!
Very brave man, they don't usually get this far...
What's--what's that, what's she's doing to his.....is that a CHICKEN up
there?  No, no, it's just the way she's holding the grapefruit... Whoah, ho
('Phone rings; buzzer goes off.  Applause)
(picking up 'phone)
Hello sir...yes...aha-ha-ha...yes, just in time, sir, that was...what?
No, no, sir, it's alright, we don't morally censor, we just want the
money.  Thank you sir, yes,....what? You...okay....Thank you for playing the
game, sir, very nice indeed, okay....okay, see you tonight, Dad, bye bye.
Well, that's all from this edition of Blackmail.  Join me next week, same
time, same channel....Join me, two dogs, and a vicar, when we'll be playing
"Pedorasto", the game for all the family.
Thank you, thank you, thank you....
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
     *** The Bookshop Sketch - from Monty Python at the Hollywood Bowl ***
Customer: (entering the bookshop) Good morning.
Proprietor: Good morning, sir.  Can I help you?
C: Er, yes. Do you have a copy of "Thirty Days in the Samarkind Desert with
   the Duchess of Kent" by A. E. J. Eliott, O.B.E.?
P: Ah, well, I don't know the book, sir...
C: Er, never mind, never mind.  How about "A Hundred and One Ways to
   Start a Fight"?
P: ...By?
C: An Irish gentleman whose name eludes me for the moment.
P: Ah, no, well we haven't got it in stock, sir....
C: Oh, well, not to worry, not to worry.  Can you help me with "David
P: Ah, yes, Dickens.
C: No....
P: (pause) I beg your pardon?
C: No, Edmund Wells.
P: I... *think* you'll find Charles Dickens wrote "David Copperfield", sir....
C: No, no, Dickens wrote "David Copperfield" with *two* Ps. This is
   "David Coperfield" with *one* P by Edmund Wells.
P: "David Coperfield" with one P?
C: Yes, I should have said.
P: Yes, well in that case we don't have it.
C: (peering over counter)  Funny, you've got a lot of books here....
P: (slightly perturbed) Yes, we do, but we don't have "David Coperfield"
   with one P by Edmund Wells.
C: Pity, it's more thorough than the Dickens.
C: Yes...I wonder if it might be worth a look through all your "David Copper-
P: No, sir, all our "David Copperfield"s have two P's.
C: Are you quite sure?
P: Quite.
C: Not worth just looking?
P: Definitely not.
C: Oh... how 'bout "Grate Expectations"?
P: Yes, well we have that....
C: That's "G-R-A-T-E Expectations," also by Edmund Wells.
P: (pause) Yes, well in that case we don't have it.  We don't have anything
   by Edmund Wells, actually: he's not very popular.
C: Not "Knickerless Knickleby"? That's K-N-I-C-K-E-R-L-E-S-S.
P: (taciturn) No.
C: "Khristmas Karol" with a K?
P: (really quite perturbed) No....
C: Er, how about "A Sale of Two Titties"?
C: (moving towards door) Sorry to trouble you....
P: Not at all....
C: Good morning.
P: Good morning.
C: (turning around) Oh!
P: (deep breath) Yesss?
C: I wonder if you might have a copy of "Rarnaby Budge"?
P: No, as I say, we're right out of Edmund Wells!
C: No, not Edmund Wells - Charles Dikkens.
P: (pause - eagerly) Charles Dickens??
C: Yes.
P: (excitedly) You mean "Barnaby Rudge"!
C: No, "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens.  That's Dikkens with two Ks, the
   well-known Dutch author.
P: (slight pause) No, well we don't have "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens
   with two Ks, the well-known Dutch author, and perhaps to save time I
   should add that we don't have "Karnaby Fudge" by Darles Chickens, or
   "Farmer of Sludge" by Marles Pickens, or even "Stickwick Stapers" by Farles
   Wickens with four M's and a silent Q!!!!!  Why don't you try W. H. Smith's?
C: Ah did, They sent me here.
P: DID they?
C: Oh, I wonder...
P: Oh, do go on, please.
C: Yes...I wonder if you might have "The Amazing Adventures of Captain Gladys
   Stoutpamphlet and her Intrepid Spaniel Stig Amongst the Giant Pygmies of
   Beckles"...volume eight.
P: (after a pause for recovery) No, we don't have that...funny, we've got a lot
   of books here...well, I musn't keep you standing here...thank you,
C: Oh, well do, do you have--              ---\
P: No, we haven't. No, we haven't.            |
C: B-b-b-but--                                |
P: Sorry, no, it's one o'clock now, we're     |
   closing for lunch--                        |
C: Ah, I--I saw it--                          |-------loud arguments
P: I'm sorry--                                |
C: I saw it over there! I saw it...           |
P: What? What? WHAT?!?                     ---/
C: I saw it over there: "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds".
P: (pause; trying to stay calm) "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds"?
C: Yes...
P: O-L-S-E-N?
C: Yes....
P: B-I-R-D-S??
C: Yes.....
P: (beat) Yes, well, we do have that, as a matter of fact....
C: The expurgated version....
P: (pause; politely) I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that...?
C: The expurgated version.
P: (exploding) The EXPURGATED version of "Olsen's Standard Book of British
C: (desperately) The one without the gannet!
P: The one without the gannet-!!! They've ALL got the gannet!! It's a
   Standard British Bird, the gannet, it's in all the books!!!
C: (insistent) Well, I don't like them...they wet their nests.
P: (furious) All right!  I'll remove it!! (rrrip!) Any other birds you don't
C: I don't like the robin...
P: (screaming) The robin!  Right!  The robin! (rrrip!) There you are, any
   others you don't like, any others?
C: The nuthatch?
P: Right!  (flipping through the book) The nuthatch, the nuthatch, the
   nuthatch, 'ere we are! (rrriiip!) There you are!  NO gannets, NO robins,
   NO nuthatches, THERE's your book!
C: (indignant) I can't buy that!  It's torn!
P: (incoherent noise)
C: Ah, I wonder if you have--
P: God, ask me anything!!  We got lots of books here, you know, it's a
C: Er, how 'bout "Biggles Combs his Hair"?
P: No, no, we don't have that one, funny!
C: "The Gospel According to Charley Drake"?
P: No, no, no, try me again!
C: Ah...oh, I know!  "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
P: No, no, no, no, no,...What?  WHAT??????
C: "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
P: "Ethel the Aa--" YES!!!YES!!!  WE'VE GOT IT!!  (throwing books wildly about)
   I-I've seen it somewhere!!!  I know it!!!  Hee hee hee hee hee!!!  Ha ha hoo
   ho---WAIT!!  WAIT!!  Is it??  Is it???  (triumphant) YES!!!!!!  Here we are,
   "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying"!!!!!  There's your book!!
   (throwing it down) Now, BUY IT!!!
C: (quickly) I don't have enough money.
P: (desperate) I'll take a deposit!
C: I don't have ANY money!
P: I'll take a check!!
C: I don't have a checkbook!
P: I've got a blank one!!
C: I don't have a bank account!!
P: RIGHT!!!! I'll buy it FOR you! (ring) There we are, there's your change,
   there's some money for a taxi on the way home, there's your book, now, now..
C: Wait, wait, wait!
P: What? What?!? WHAT?!?  WHAT???!!
C: I can't read!!!
P: (staggeringly long pause; very quietly) You can't...read. (pause) RIGHT!!!
   Sit down!! Sit down!! Sit!! Sit!! Are you sitting comfortably??? Right!!!
   (opens book) "Ethel the Aardvark was hopping down the river valley one
   lovely morning, trottety-trottety-trottety, when she might a nice little
   quantity surveyor..." (fade out)
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The Opening Scene Song from "Monty Python's Life of Brian"           ****
Brian ... the babe they called Brian
Grew ... grew grew and grew, grew up to be
A boy called Brian
A boy called Brian
He had arms and legs and hands and feet
This boy whose name was Brian
And he grew, grew, grew and grew
Grew up to be
Yes he grew up to be
A teenager called Brian
A teenager called Brian
And his face became spotty
Yes his face became spotty
And his voice dropped down low
And things started to grow
On young Brian and show
He was certainly no
No girl named Brian
Not a girl named Brian
And he started to shave
And have one off the wrist
And want to see girls
And go out and get pissed
This man called Brian
This man called Brian
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
-----The Bridgekeeper scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"-----
King Arthur: Now, we are about to attempt to cross...the Bridge of Death!  The
         gate-keeper of the Bridge will ask any who attempt to cross five
         questions---Sir Bedevere: Three, sire.
Arthur: (pause) Oh, yes, three. He who successfully answers these five
Bedevere: Three, sire!
Arthur: (slightly longer pause) Ah, three, then...er, may pass in safety.
        However, anyone who fails to correctly answer all five questions--
Bedevere: THREE, sire!
Arthur: I KNOW IT'S BLOODY THR--ahem, yes, of course, three. (black look at
        Bedevere)...will be cast into the Gorge of Eternal Peril!!!
(dramatic music)
Arthur: (continuing) Sir Robin, why don't you go?
Sir Robin: Er...I've got an idea! Why doesn't Sir Lancelot go?
Sir Lancelot: Yes, I'll take him, sire. (about to draw sword) I'll make a feint
        to the North-East, and then--
Arthur: No, no, just answer the questions, Sir Lancelot.
Lancelot: But I'd really like a feint to the North-East, sire...
Arthur: No, Sir Lancelot. We'll all be right behind you, listening...
Lancelot: (sheathing sword) I...understand, sire.
Arthur: Our prayers go with you, Sir Lancelot.
(Lancelot approaches the bridge.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, the BRIDGEKEEPER
Bedevere: (whispering) It's the old man from Scene 24!!
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
              He who would cross the Bridge of Death
              Must answer me
              These questions three
              Ere the other side he see.
Lancelot: Ask me your questions, Bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your name?
Lancelot: Sir Lancelot of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your quest?
Lancelot: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your favorite color?
Lancelot: Blue.
Bridgekeeper: Right, off you go.
Lancelot: (slightly surprised) Oh! Well, thank you. Thank you very much.
(and off he goes. The knights look at each other.)
Robin: That's EASY!!!
(A mad rush for the bridge.  Robin arrives first.  The knights cluster behind.
 A few sniff and wrinkle their noses, and the group backs off.)
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
              He who would cross the Bridge of Death
              Must answer me
              These questions three
              Ere the other side he see.
Robin: (excitedly) Ask me your questions, Bridgekeeper, I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your name?
Robin: Robin of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What...is you quest?
Robin: I seek the Grail!
Bridgekeeper: What...is the capital of Assyria?
Robin: (indignant) I don't know THAT!! (An unseen force whisks him up and over
(The knights pause, realizing this may be a bit tougher than all that.)
*** Note: The following bit was cut from the movie. ***
Bedevere: What shall we do, sire?
Arthur: Well, I'm not sure, but...
Bridgekeeper: (off) What...goes black, white, black, white, black, white?
Sir Gawain: (off) Uh...er...ah...Babylon? AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!
*** Movie resumes. ***
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
              He who would cross the Bridge of Death
              Must answer me
              These questions three
              Ere the other side he see.
Sir Galahad: (swallowing) Ask me your questions, Bridgekeeper...I am not a-
Bridgekeeper: What...is your name?
Galahad: (nervous) Sir Galahad...
Bridgekeeper: What...is your quest?
Galahad: (really nervous) To seek the Grail...
Bridgekeeper: What...is your favorite color?
Galahad: (relieved) Blue! (starts across; oops) NO! YELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWW!!!!
(Arthur steps forward)
Bridgekeeper: STOP!
              He who would cross the Bridge of Death
              Must answer me
              These questions three
              Ere the other side he see.
Arthur: Ask me your questions, Bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What...is your name?
Arthur: King Arthur of the Britons!
Bridgekeeper: What...is your quest?
Arthur: I seek the Holy Grail!
Bridgekeeper: What...is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
Arthur: (brief pause) What do you mean, an African or a European swallow?
Bridgekeeper: (confused) Well...I don't know...AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!
Bedevere: (crossing behind Arthur) How do you know so much about swallows,
Arthur: Well, you have to know these sorts of things when you're a king, you
*** Note: The following bit was *also* cut from the movie. ***
                   (Arthur and Bedevere approach a gigantic lake.
                   A boat in the shape of a dragon glides slowly
                   towards them. As they prepare to cross, the
                   same old man suddenly appears before them.)
Boat-keeper: STOP!
              He who would cross the Sea of Fate
              Must answer me these questions twenty-eight!
(Arthur and Bedevere look at each other.  They look at the old man.  They look
 back at each other.  They pick the old man up, throw him in the water, and
 board the ship.)
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
 *** from "Monty Python Live at City Center"...
                        The Bruces
Goodday, Bruce!
Oh, Hello Bruce!
How are you Bruce?
A bit crooked, Bruce.
Where's Bruce?
He's not 'ere, Bruce.
Blimey, it's hot in here, Bruce.
Hot as a monkey's bum!
That's a strange expression, Bruce.
Well Bruce, I heard the Prime Minister use it. "It's hot enough to boil
     a monkey's bum in here, your Majesty," he said and she smiled quietly
     to herself.
She's a good Sheila, Bruce, and not at all stuck up.
Here! Here's the boss-fellow now!
'Ow  are you, Bruce?
Goodnight Bruce!
Hello Bruce.
How are you, Bruce?
Goodnight Bruce.
Gentleman, I'd like to introduce man from Pommey Land who is joinin'
    us this year in the philosophy department at the University of
(Everyone) Goodnight!
Michael Baldwin, Bruce. Michael Baldwin, Bruce. Michael Baldwin, Bruce.
Is your name not Bruce?
No, it's Michael.
That's going to cause a little confusion.
Mind if we call you "Bruce" to keep it clear?
Gentlemen, I think we better start the faculty meeting, before we start,
    though, I'd like to ask the padre for a prayer.
Oh Lord, we beseech Thee, Amen!!
Crack a tube! (Bottles opening)
Now I call upon Bruce to officially welcome Mr. Baldwin to the
    philosophy faculty.
I'd like to welcome the pommey bastard to God's own Earth! And remind
    him that we don't like stuck-up sticky-beaks here.
(Everyone) Hear, hear! Well spoken, Bruce!
Bruce here teaches classical philosophy, Bruce there teaches Haegelian
    philosophy, and Bruce here teaches logical positivism. And is also
    in charge of the sheep dip.
What's New-Bruce going to teach?
New Bruce will be teaching political science, Machiavelli, Benton,
    Lockholm, Sackly, Millbo, Hasset, and Bernerd.
Those are all cricketers!
Aww, spit!
Hails of derisive laughter, Bruce!
(Everyone) 'Straylya, 'Straylia, 'Straylia, 'Straylya, we love you! Amen!!
Another tube! (Bottles opening)
Any questions?
New-Bruce, are you a Pooftah?
Are you a Pooftah?
No. Right, I just want to remind you of the faculty rules:
 Rule One! (Everyone) No Pooftahs!
 Rule Two, no member of the faculty is to mal-treat the others in any
           way at all.. if there's anybody watching.
 Rule Three? (Everyone) No Pooftahs!!
 Rule Four, now this term, I don't want to catch anybody not drinking.
    Rule Five, (Everyone) No Pooftahs!
    Rule Six, there is NO.... Rule Six.
    Rule Seven, (Everyone) No Pooftahs!!
    Right, that concludes the readin' of the rules, Bruce.
This here's the wattle, the emblem of our land. You can stick it in
    a bottle, you can hold it in your hand.
<And now all four Bruces launch into the Philosopher's song>
Immanuel Kant was a real piss-ant who was very rarely stable.
Heideggar, Heideggar was a boozy beggar who could
    think you under the table.
David Hume could out-consume Schoppenhauer and Hegel.
And Whittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as sloshed as Schlegel.
There's nothing Nieizsche couldn't teach 'ya
    'bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.
John Stewart Mill, of his own free will
    On half a pint of shanty was particularly ill.
Plato they say could stick it away,
    Half a crate of whiskey every day.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
    And Hoppes was fond of his dram.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart.
    "I drink, therefore I am."
Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed;
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he's pissed.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
        ****   The song of the Knights of Camelot   ****
       ****   from Monty Python and the Holy Grail   ****
Look, my liege!
(It's only a model.)
Arthur: Knights, to your new home.  Let us ride...to ...
We're knights of the round table, we dance whene're we're able.
We do routines, and border scenes, and footwork imp-e-cable;
We dine well here in Camelot, we eat ham and jam and spamalot.
We're knights of the round table, our shows are for-mid-able
The many times, we're given rhymes, that are quite un-sing-able
We're often mad in Camelot, we sing from the lie of hamalot!
Though we're tough and able,
Quite in-de-fa-ti-gable,
Between our quests, we seek incest and impersonate Clark Gable,
It's a busy life in Camelot:
(Bass-Solo): I have to push the pram-a-lot!
Arthur: On second thought, let's not go to Camelot.  It is a silly place.
Assorted Knights:  (mumble) Yeah, let's go, agreed, etc...
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*** The Cheeseshop Sketch
                    ***  The Cheese Shoppe   ***
(a customer walks in the door.)
Customer: Good Morning.
Owner: Good morning, Sir.  Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium!
Customer: Ah .man.
Owner: What can I do for you, Sir?
C: Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmon Street just now,
   skimming through "Rogue Herrys" by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over
   all peckish.
O: Peckish, sir?
C: Esuriant.
O: Eh?
C: 'Ee Ah wor 'ungry-like!
O: Ah, hungry!
C: In a nutshell.  And I thought to myself, "a little fermented curd will do
   the trick," so, I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and
   infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy
O: Come again?
C: I want to buy some cheese.
O: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the mazuki player!
C: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations of the
   Terpsichorean muse!
O: Sorry?
C: 'Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, 'yer forced too!
O: So he can go on playing, can he?
C: Most certainly!  Now then, some cheese please, my good man.
O: (lustily) Certainly, sir.  What would you like?
C: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.
O: I'm, a-fraid we're fresh out of red Leicester, sir.
C: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilset?
O: I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it
   fresh on Monday.
C: Tish tish.  No matter.  Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Cafilly, if you
O: Ah!  It's beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks.  Was expecting it this
C: 'T's Not my lucky day, is it?   Aah, Bell Paisey?
O: Sorry, sir.
C: Red Windsor?
O: Normally, sir, yes.  Today the van broke down.
C: Ah.  Stilton?
O: Sorry.
C: Emental? Brilliere?
O: No.
C: Any Norweigan Yarlsburger, per chance.
O: No.
C: Lipta?
O: No.
C: Lancashire?
O: No.
C: White Stilton?
O: No.
C: Danish Brew?
O: No.
C: Double Goucester?
O: <pause>   No.
C: Cheshire?
O: No.
C: Dorset Bluveny?
O: No.
C: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Porceileu, Savoy Aire, Sampolan, Carrier de
   lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson?
O: No.
C: Camenbert, perhaps?
O: Ah!  We have Camenbert, yessir.
C: (suprised) You do!  Excellent.
O: Yessir.  It's..ah,.....it's a bit runny...
C: Oh, I like it runny.
O: Well,.. It's very runny, actually, sir.
C: No matter.  Fetch hither the fromage de la Belle France!  Mmmwah!
O: I...think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it, sir.
C: I don't care how fucking runny it is.  Hand it over with all speed.
O: Oooooooooohhh........!   <pause>
C: What now?
O: The cat's eaten it.
C: <pause>    Has he.
O: She, sir.
C: Goudon?
O: No.
C: Idam?
O: No.
C: Case Ness?
O: No.
C: Smoked Austrian?
O: No.
C: Japanese Sage Darby?
O: No, sir.
C: You...do *have* some cheese, don't you?
O: (brightly) Of course, sir.  It's a cheese shop, sir.  We've got-
C: No no... don't tell me.   I'm keen to guess.
O: Fair enough.
C: Uuuuuh, Wensleydale.
O: Yes?
C: Ah, well, I'll have some of that!
O: Oh!  I thought you were talking to me, sir.
   Mister Wensleydale, that's my name.
C: Greek Fetta?
O: Uh, not as such.
C: Uuh, Gorgonzola?
O: no
C: Parmesan,
O: no
C: Mozarella,
O: no
C: Paper Cramer,
O: no
C: Danish Bimbo,
O: no
C: Czech sheep's milk,
O: no
C: Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?
O: Not -today-, sir, no.
C: Aah, how about Cheddar?
O: Well, we don't get much call for it around here, sir.
C: Not much ca--It's the single most popular cheese in the world!
O: Not 'round here, sir.
C: <slight pause> and what IS the most popular cheese 'round hyah?
O: 'Illchester, sir.
C: IS it.
O: Oh, yes, it's staggeringly popular in this manusquire.
C: Is it.
O: It's our number one best seller, sir!
C: I see.  Uuh...'Illchester, eh?
O: Right, sir.
C: All right.  Okay.
   "Have you got any?"  He asked, expecting the answer 'no'.
O: I'll have a look, sir..
C: It's not much of a cheese shop, is it?
O: Finest in the district!
C: (annoyed) Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
O: Well, it's so clean, sir!
C: It's certainly uncontaminated by cheese....
O: (brightly) You haven't asked me about Limburger, sir.
C: Would it be worth it?
O: Could be....
O: Told you sir...
C: (slowly) Have you got any Limburger?
O: No.
C: Figures.
   Predictable, really I suppose.  It was an act of purest optomism to have
   posed the question in the first place.  Tell me:
O: Yessir?
C: (deliberately) Have you in fact got any cheese here at all.
O: Yes,sir.
C: Really?
O: No.  Not really, sir.
C: You haven't.
O: Nosir.  Not a scrap.  I was deliberately wasting your time,sir.
C: Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shoot you.
O: Right-0, sir.
The customer takes out a gun and takes out a pistol.
C: What a -senseless- waste of human life.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
**** The "Bring out your dead" scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" ***
   A cart passes through the muddy road through a village.
   A baby cries.  People wrestle in the mud.  A woman beats a cat.
The cart-master chants wearily as they trudge along:
Bring out your dead!
Bring out your dead!
Bring out your dead!        etc.  while beating occasionally on a large
                            triangle with a wooden spoon.
As each person comes forward with his or her dead relative, they throw them on
the cart.  He holds out his hand and they pay.
Bring out your dead!
A man comes out with a dead-looking old man in a nightshirst slung over his
shoulder.  He starts to put the old man on the cart.
Man:         Here's one-
Cart-master: Ninepence.
Old Man:     (feebly) I'm not dead!
Cart-master: (suprised) What?
Man:         Nothing!  Here's your ninepence....
Old Man:     (still feebly) I'm not dead!
Cart-master: 'Ere!  'E says 'e's not dead!
Man:         Yes he is.
Old Man:     I'm not!
Cart-master: 'E isn't?
Man:         Well... he will be soon-- he's very ill...
Old Man:     I'm getting better!
Man:         No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
Cart-master: I can't take 'im like that!  It's against regulations!
Old Man:     I don't want to go on the cart....
Man:         Oh, don't be such a baby.
Cart-master: I can't take 'im....
Old Man:     I feel fine!
Man:         Well, do us a favor...
Cart-master: I can't!
Man:         Can you hang around a couple of minutes?  He won't be long...
Cart-master: No, gotta get to Robinson's by nine today....
Man:         Well, when's your next round?
Cart-master: Thursday.
Old Man:     I think I'll go for a walk....
Man:         You're not fooling anyone, you know--
             (to Cart-master) Look, isn't there something you can do...?
(they both look around)
Old Man:     I feel happy!  I feel happy!
(the Cart-master deals the old man a swift blow to the head with his wooden
spoon.  The old man goes limp.)
Man:         (throwing the old man onto the cart) Ah.  thanks very much.
Cart-master: Not at all.  See you on Thursday!
Man: Right!  All right....
King Arthur and his trusty servant, Patsy, "ride" through the town and past
the men.
Man:        'Oo's that then?
Cart-master: I don't know.  Must be a king.
Man:         Why
Cart-master: 'E 'asn't got shit all over 'im.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*****   The Front's Demands Scene from Life of Brian            *****
(The interior of MATTHIAS'S HOUSE.  A cellar-like room with a very
 conspiratorial atmosphere.  REG and STAN are seated at a table at one end of
 the room.  FRANCIS, dressed in commando gear -- black robes and a red sash
 around his head -- is standing by a plan on the wall.  He is addressing an
 audience of about ten.

     We get in through the underground heating system here ... up through to
     the main audience chamber here ... and Pilate's wife's bedroom is here.
     Having grabbed his wife, we inform Pilate that she is in our custody and
     forthwith issue our demands.  Any questions?
     What exactly are the demands?
     We're giving Pilate two days to dismantle the entire apparatus of the
     Roman Imperialist State and if he doesn't agree immediately we execute her.
     Cut her head of?
     Cut all her bits off, send 'em back every hour on the hour ... show him
     we're not to be trifled with.
     Also, we're demanding a ten foot mahogany statue of the Emperor Julius
     Caesar with his cock hanging out.
     What?  They'll never agree to that, Reg.
     That's just a bargaining counter.  And of course, we point out that they
     bear full responsibility when we chop her up, AND ... that we shall NOT
     submit to blackmail.
     (Applause) No blackmail!!!!
     They've bled us white, the bastards.  They've taken everything we had,
     not just from us, from our fathers and from our fathers' fathers.
     And from our fathers' fathers' fathers.
     And from our fathers' fathers' fathers' fathers.
     All right, Stan.  Don't labour the point.  And what have they ever given
     us IN RETURN?  (he pauses smugly)
     The aqueduct?
     The aqueduct.
     Oh yeah, yeah they gave us that.  Yeah.  That's true.
     And the sanitation!
     Oh yes ... sanitation, Reg, you remember what the city used to be like.
     All right, I'll grant you that the aqueduct and the sanitation are two
     things that the Romans HAVE done ...
     And the roads ...
     (sharply) Well YES OBVIOUSLY the roads ... the roads go without saying.
     But apart from the aqueduct, the sanitation and the roads ...
     Irrigation ...
     Medicine ... Education ... Health
     Yes ... all right, fair enough ...
     And the wine ...
     Oh yes!  True!
     Yeah.  That's something we'd really miss if the Romans left, Reg.
     Public baths!
     AND it's safe to walk in the streets at night now.
     Yes, they certainly know how to keep order ...
     (general nodding)
     ... let's face it, they're the only ones who could in a place like this.
     (more general murmurs of agreement)
     All right ... all right ... but apart from better sanitation and medicine
     and education and irrigation and public health and roads and a freshwater
     system and baths and public order ... what HAVE the Romans done for US?
     Brought peace!
     (very angry, he's not having a good meeting at all)
     What!?  Oh ... (scornfully) Peace, yes ... shut up!
*****   Here endeth Part Eight of Life of Brian (of Nazareth)   *****
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The French Castle Scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"       ****
King Arthur and his knights of the round table, along with their servants,
"ride" up to a castle.  King Arthur's servant, Patsy, blows a horn.
Arthur: HELLO!
Bedevere: HELLO!
An armor-clad face appears at the top of the rampart.
 He has an outrageous French accent.
Soldier: 'Allo!  'Oo is it?
Arthur: It is I, King Arthur, and these are my knights of the Round Table.
        Whose castle is this?
S: This is the castle of my master, Guy de Lombard.
A: Go and tell your master that we have been charged by God with a sacred
   quest.  If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us
   in our quest for the Holy Grail.
S: Well, I'll ask 'im, but I don't think 'e'll be very keen-- 'e's already got
   one, you see?
A: What?
Lancelot: He says they've already *got* one!
A: (confused) Are you *sure* he's got one?
S: Oh yes, it's ver' naahs.
   (to the other soldiers:)  I told 'em we've already *got* one!
   (they snicker)
A: (taken a bit off balance) Well... ah, um...  Can we come up and have a look?
S: Of course not!  You are English types.
A: Well, what are you then?
S: (Indignant) Ah'm French!  Why do you think I have this out-rrrageous
   accent, you silly king?!
A: What are you doing in England?
S: Mind your own business!
A: If you will not show us the Grail, we shall take your castle by force!
S: You don't frighten us, English pig-dogs!  Go and boil your bottoms, son of a
   silly person!  Ah blow my nose at you, so-called "Arthur Keeeng"!  You and
   all your silly English Knnnnnnnn-ighuts!!!
(the soldier proceeds to bang on his helmet with his hands and stick out his
tongue at the knights, making strange noises.)
Lancelot: What a strange person.
A: (getting mad) Now look here, my good ma--
S: Ah don' wanna talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food-trough
   wiper!  Ah fart in your general direction!  Your mother was a hamster, and
   your father smelt of elderberries!
Galahad: Is there someone else up there we can talk to?
S: No!!  Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
      -----  The Crunchy Frog Sketch  from   Monty Python Live at    -----
    -----       the Hollywood Bowl  and   Live at City Center          -----
Inspector: 'ELLO!
Mr. Hilton: 'Ello.
Inspector:  Mr. 'ilton?
Hilton:  A-yes?
I: You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company?
H: I am, yes.
I: Constable Clitoris and I are from the 'ygiene squad, and we'd like to have
   a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the "Whizzo Quality
H: Oh, yes.
I: If I may begin at the beginning.  First there is the Cherry Fondue.
   Now this is extremely nasty. (pause) But we can't prosecute you for that.
H: Ah, agreed.
I: Then we have number four.  Number four: Crunchy Frog.
H: Yes.
I: Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in 'ere?
H: Yes, a little one.
I: What sort of frog?
H: A...a *dead* frog.
I: Is it cooked?
H: No.
I: What, a RAW frog?!?
H: Oh, we use only the finest baby frogs, dew-picked and flown from Iraq,
   cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and sealed in
   a succulent, Swiss, quintuple-smooth, treble-milk chocolate envelope, and
   lovingly frosted with glucose.
I: That's as may be, but it's still a frog!
H: What else?
I: Well, don't you even take the bones out?
H: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?
I: Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public!
C: Uh, would you excuse me a moment, Sir?   (exits)
I: We have to protect the public! People aren't going to think there's a real
   frog in chocolate! Constable Clitoris thought it was an almond whirl!
   They're bound to expect some sort of mock frog!
H: (outraged) MOCK frog!?!  We use NO artificial additives or preservatives of
   ANY kind!
I: Nevertheless, I advise you in future to replace the words "Crunchy Frog"
   with the legend, "Crunchy, Raw, Unboned Real Dead Frog" if you wish to avoid
H: What about our sales?
I: FUCK your sales!  We've got to protect the public!  Now what about this
   one, number five, it was number five, wasn't it?  Number five:  Ram's
   Bladder Cup. (beat) Now, what sort of confectionery is that?!?
H: Oh, we use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish Ram's bladder,
   emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and
   garnished with lark's vomit.
H: Correct.
I: It doesn't say anything here about lark's vomit!
H: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after "monosodium glutamate".
I: I hardly think that's good enough!  I think it's be more appropriate if the
   box bore a great red label: "WARNING: LARK'S VOMIT!!!"
H: Our sales would plummet!
I: (screaming) Well why don't you move into more conventional areas of
(the constable returns)
I: Like Praline, or, or Lime Creme, a very popular flavor, I'm lead to
   understand.  Or Raspberry Lite.  I mean, what's this one, what's
   this one?  'Ere we are: Cockroach Cluster!  --      --   Anthrax Ripple!
** For those of you watching this transcript on your terminal, the young     **
** constable has just thrown up into his helmet.  This is the longest        **
** continuous vomit seen on Broadway since John Barrymore puked over Laertes **
** in the second act of Hamlet in 1941.                                      **
I: (continuing)  And what is this one: Spring Surprise?
H: Ah, that's one of our specialities.  Covered in dark, velvety chocolate,
   when you pop it into your mouth, stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge
   straight through both cheeks.
I: (stunned) Well where's the pleasure in THAT?!?  If people pop a nice little
   chockie into their mouth, they don't expect to get their cheeks pierced!!!
   In any case, it is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat.  I shall have
   to ask you to accompany me to the station.
H: (shrugging) It's a fair cop.
I: And DON'T talk to the audience.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
-----    The Galaxy song from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life    -----
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown,
And things seem hard or tough,
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft,
And you feel that you've had quite eno-o-o-o-o-ough,
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And reolving at nine thousand miles an hour.
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
The sun that is the source of all our power.
Now the sun, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see,
Are moving at a million miles a day,
In the outer spiral arm, at fourteen thousand miles an hour,
Of a galaxy we call the Milky Way.
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred million stars;
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side;
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick,
But out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide.
We're thirty thousand light-years from Galactic Central Point,
We go 'round every two hundred million years;
And our galaxy itself is one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.
Our universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding,
In all of the directions it can whiz;
As fast as it can go, that's the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth;
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth!
                                                    -- Eric Idle
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
***   Blessing from the Lord  ***
*** Monty Python and the Holy Grail ***
Bedevere: ...And that, my liege, is how we know the earth to be of a girly
Arthur: This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedevere.  Explain again, how sheep's
        bladders can be employed to prevent earthquakes.
Bedevere: Oh, certainly, Sir.  You see,...
(the clouds open and a giant animated face is seen.  It speaks:)
God:  Aaaarthur...  Arthur, King of the Britons...
(the knights fall to their knees)
God: Oh don't grovel!
Arthur: Sorry, Lord...
God:  And DON'T apologize!!  Every time I try to talk to somebody, its "I'm
      sorry" this and "forgive me" that and "I'm not *worthy*"...  It's like
      those miserable Psalms--they're soooo depressing!
Arthur: Yes, Lord.
God: What're you doing now?
Arthur: Averting my eyes, o Lord.
God:  Well KNOCK IT OFF!
Arthur:  Yes, Lord.
God:  Right.  Arthur, King of the Britons, I have decided to set you a task as
      an example in these dark times.
Arthur: Good idear, o Lord!
God:  (thunder) 'COURSE IT'S A GOOD IDEA!  Now:  this is the Holy Grail.
      (giant picture of a golden, jewel-encrusted grail appears in the sky)
      (heavenly music)
      Look well, Arthur: It is your mission to seek this Grail.  That is your
      purpose, Arthur: The Quest for the Holy Grail!
(the clouds slam shut.)
Arthur:  A blessing!  A blessing from the Lord!
Lancelot:  God be praised!
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The Holy Hand-Grenade Scene                                          ****
****  from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"                               ****
                      ***  The Holy Hand Grenade  ***
The knights rush into a cave, huffing and puffing, to take cover from the
vicious onslaught of the Killer Rabbit.
Bedevere: Okay, how many did we lose?
Arthur: Well...Gawain...Ector...and Bors.  That's five.
Bedevere: Three, Sire!
Arthur: Three.  And we can't risk another try, that rabbit's dynamite!
All: Hmmmm..
Robin: Maybe if we attack it, it will get confused, and make a mistake!
Arthur: Like what?
 (longer pause)
Robin: Ummmm....
Lancelot: Have we got birds?
Arthur: (quickly) No.
Galahad: (brightly) We *have* the Holy Hand Grenade, Sir!
Arthur:  Of course!  'Tis one of the sacred relics that Brother Maynard
         carries with him!  Brother Maynard!  Bring out the Holy Hand Grenade!
Monks: (Chant)
                    Die Jesu domine,
                    Dona eis requiem.
                    Die Jesu domine,
                    Dona eis requiem.
(Pause.  Arthur examines the hand grenade, turning it over in his hands.)
Arthur: How does it....How does it work?
High Priest: I know not, my leige.
Arthur: Consult the book of Armaments!
High Priest: Armaments Chapter One, verses nine through twenty-seven:
Brother Maynard: And Saint Attila raised the Holy Hand Grenade up on high
                 saying, "Oh Lord, Bless us this Holy Hand Grenade, and with it
                 smash our enemies to tiny bits."
                 And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the
                 lambs, and stoats, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and
                 lima bean-
High Priest:  Skip a bit, brother.
Brother Maynard: And then the Lord spake, saying:
                 "First, shalt thou take out the holy pin.
                 Then shalt thou count to three.
                 No more, no less.
                 *Three* shall be the number of the counting, and the number
                 of the counting shall be three.
                 *Four* shalt thou not count, and neither count thou two,
                 excepting that thou then goest on to three.
                 Five is RIGHT OUT.  Once the number three, being the third
                 number be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade
                 to-wards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff
                 it.  Amen.
All: Amen.
Arthur: Right!  (pulls pin)
Bedevere (quickly): Three, Sire!!
Arthur: Three!  (throws hand grenade at the Killer Rabbit)
(holy music)
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*****   The Market Haggling Scene from Life of Brian            *****
(After BRIAN has escaped the CENTURIONS, he runs off towards the crowded
 market square.  At one end of the market there is a speakers' corner, with
 many strangely bearded and oddly dressed PROPHETS attempting to attract an
 audience.  The noisiest or the most controversial are clearly doing best at
 attracting PASSERS-BY.  A STRANGE FIGURE with a rasta hairstyle, covered in
 mud, and with two severed hands on a pole waves wildly at the audience.)
     ... and shall ride forth on a serpents' back, and the eyes shall be red
     with the blood of living creatures, and the whore of Babylon shall rise
     over the hill of excitement and throughout the land there will be a great
     rubbing of parts ...
(Beside him, another PROPHET with red hair, none the less fierce, is trying to
 attract some of the BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET'S audience.)
     And he shall bear a nine-bladed sword.  Nine-bladed.  Not two.  Or five
     or seven, but nine, which he shall wield on all wretched sinners and that
     includes you sir, and the horns shall be on the head ...
(In front of each PROPHET is a ROMAN GUARD, clearly bored but there to break
 up any trouble.  BRIAN races into the market place.  A cohort of ROMANS are
 searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down PASSERS-BY.
 BRIAN appears near a rather dull little PROPHET, who is standing underneath
 the high window that backs out of MATTHIAS' house, the revolutionary HQ.
     And there shall in that time be rumours of things going astray, and there
     will be a great confusion as to where things really are, and nobody will
     really know where lieth those little things with the sort of raffia work
     base, that has an attachment they will not be there.
(Across the square the ROMANS appear, searching.  BRIAN spots HARRY, the beard
 salesman and moves towards his stall, an idea forming in his mind.)
(The BORING PROPHET drones on and on.)
     At this time a friend shall lose his friends's hammer and the young shall
     not know where lieth the things possessed by their fathers that their
     fathers put there only just the night before ...
(BRIAN runs up to HARRY the beard seller's stall and hurriedly grabs an
 artificial beard.)
BRIAN: How much?  Quick!
HARRY: What?
BRIAN: It's for the wife.
HARRY: Oh.  Twenty shekels.
BRIAN: Right.
HARRY: What?
BRIAN (as he puts down 20 shekels): There you are.
HARRY: Wait a moment.
BRIAN: What?
HARRY: We're supposed to haggle.
BRIAN: No, no, I've got to ...
HARRY: What do you mean, no?
BRIAN: I haven't time, I've got to get ...
HARRY: Give it back then.
BRIAN: No, no, I paid you.
HARRY: Burt!  (BURT appears.  He is very big.)
BURT:  Yeah?
HARRY: This bloke won't haggle.
BURT (looking around): Where are the guards?
BRIAN: Oh, all right ... I mean do we have to ...
HARRY: Now I want twenty for that ...
BRIAN: I gave you twenty.
HARRY: Now are you telling me that's not worth twenty shekels?
HARRY: Feel the quality, that's none of yer goat.
BRIAN: Oh ... I'll give you nineteen then.
HARRY: No, no.  Do it properly.
BRIAN: What?
HARRY: Haggle properly.  This isn't worth nineteen.
BRIAN: You just said it was worth twenty.
HARRY: Burt!!  (Burt pops up again)
BRIAN  I'll give you ten.
HARRY: That's more like it.  (outraged)  Ten!?  Are you trying to insult me?
       Me?  With a poor dying grandmother ... Ten!?!
BRIAN: Eleven.
HARRY: Now you're getting it.  Eleven!?!  Did I hear you right?  Eleven?  This
       cost me twelve.  You want to ruin me.
BRIAN: Seventeen.
HARRY: Seventeen!?!
BRIAN: Eighteen?
HARRY: No, no, no.  You go to fourteen now.
BRIAN: Fourteen.
HARRY: Fourteen, are you joking?
BRIAN: That's what you told me to say.
   (HARRY registers total despair.)
BRIAN: Tell me what to say!  Please!!
HARRY: Offer me fourteen.
BRIAN: I'll give you fourteen.
HARRY: (to onlookers)  He's offering me fourteen for this!
BRIAN: Fifteen.
HARRY: Seventeen.  My last word.  I won't take a penny less, or strike me dead.
BRIAN: Sixteen.
HARRY: Done.  (He grasps BRIAN'S hand and shakes it.)  Nice to do business with
       you.  Tell you what, I'll throw in this as well.  (He gives BRIAN a
BRIAN: I don't want it but thanks.
HARRY: Burt!
BURT:  (appearing rapidly)  Yes?
BRIAN: All right!  All right!!  Thank you.
HARRY: Where's the sixteen then?
BRIAN: I already gave you twenty.
HARRY: Oh yes ... that's four I owe you then.  (starts looking for change)
BRIAN: ... It's all right, it doesn't matter.
HARRY: Hang on.
    (Pause as HARRY can't find change.  BRIAN sees a pair of prowling ROMANS.)
BRIAN: It's all right, that's four for the gourd -- that's fine!
HARRY: Four for the gourd.  Four!!!!  Look at it, that's worth ten if it's worth
       a shekel.
BRIAN: You just gave it to me for nothing.
HARRY: Yes, but it's *worth* ten.
BRIAN: All right, all right.
HARRY: No, no, no.  It's not worth ten.  You're supposed to argue.  "What?  Ten
       for that, you must be mad!"
(BRIAN pays ten, runs off with the gourd, and fixes the beard on his face.)
HARRY: Ah, well there's one born every minute.
*****   Here endeth Part Eleven of Life of Brian (of Nazareth)  *****
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*****   The Brian in Jail Scene from Life of Brian              *****
(BRIAN wakes up with a smile on his face to find himself being dragged along a
 cell corridor by TWO GUARDS.  The horrible figure of the JAILER spits at him
 and flings him into a dark damp cell, slamming the iron grate behind him and
 turning the key hollowly in the lock.  BRIAN slumps to the floor.  A voice
 comes out of the darkness behind him.)
BEN:   You LUCKY bastard!
BRIAN: (spins around and peers into the gloom): Who's that?
(In the darkness BRIAN just makes out an emaciated figure, suspended on the
 wall, with his feet off the ground, by chains round his wrists.  This is BEN.)
BEN:   You lucky, lucky bastard.
BRIAN: What?
BEN    (with great bitterness): Proper little gaoler's pet, aren't we?
BRIAN: (ruffled) What do you mean?
BEN:   You must have slipped him a few shekels, eh?
BRIAN: Slipped him a few shekels!?  You saw him spit in my face!
BEN:   Ohh!  What wouldn't I give to be spat at in the face!  I sometimes hang
       awake at nights dreaming of being spat in the face.
BRIAN: Well, it's not exactly friendly, is it?  They had me in manacles ...
BEN:   Manacles!  Oooh....
       (his eyes go quite dreamy)
       My idea of heaven is to be allowed to be put in manacles ... just for a
       few hours.  They must think the sun shines out of your arse, sonny!
BRIAN: Listen!  They beat me up before they threw me in here.
BEN:   Oh yeah?  The only day they don't beat me up is on my birthday.
BRIAN: Oh shut up.
BEN:   Well, your type makes me sick!  You come in here, you get treated like
       Royalty, and everyone outside thinks you're a bloody martyr.
BRIAN: Oh, lay off me ... I've had a hard time!
BEN:   YOU'VE had a hard time!  Listen, sonny!  I've been here five years and
       they only hung me the right way up yesterday!
BRIAN: All right!  All right!
BEN:   I just wish I had half your luck.  They must think you're Lord God
BRIAN: What'll they do to me?
BEN:   Oh, you'll probably get away with crucifixion.
BRIAN: Crucifixion!
BEN:   Yeah, first offense.
BRIAN: Get away with crucifixion!
BEN:   Best thing the Romans ever did for us.
BRIAN: (incredulous)  What?
BEN:   Oh yeah.  If we didn't have crucifixion this country would be in a right
       bloody mess I tell you.
BRIAN: (who can stand it no longer)  Guard!
BEN:   Nail 'em up I say!
BRIAN: (dragging himself over to the door)  Guard!
BEN:   Nail some sense into them!
GUARD: (looking through the bars)  What d'you want?
BRIAN: I want to be moved to another cell.
       (GUARD spits in his face.)
BRIAN: Oh!  (he recoils in helpless disgust)
BEN:   Oh ... look at that!  Bloody favouritism!
GUARD: Shut up, you!
BEN:   Sorry!  Sorry!
       (he lowers his voice)
       Now take my case.  I've been here five years, and every night they take
       me down for ten minutes, then they hang me up again ... which I regard
       as very fair ... in view of what I done ... and if nothing else, it's
       taught me to respect the Romans, and it's taught me that you'll never
       get anywhere in life unless you're prepared to do a fair day's work for
       a fair day's pay ...
BRIAN: Oh ... Shut up!
    (CENTURION approaches cell door with two soldiers, starts unlocking door)
CENT:  Pilate wants to see you.
CENT:  Come on.
BRIAN: Pilate?  What does he want to see me for?
CENT:  I think he wants to know which way up you want to be crucified.
    (He laughs.  The TWO SOLDIERS smirk.  BEN laughs uproariously.)
BEN:     ... Nice one, centurion.  Like it, like it.
CENT (to BEN):  Shut up!
    (BRIAN is hustled out.  The door slams.)
BEN (to himself): Terrific race the Romans ... terrific.
*****   Here endeth Part Nine of Life of Brian (of Nazareth)    *****
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
                     *** The Lumberjack Song ***
              ***  from Monty Python's Flying Circus  ***
I never wanted to do this in the first place!
I...  I wanted to be...
(piano vamp)
Leaping from tree to tree!  As they float down the mighty rivers of
British Columbia!  With my best girl by my side!
The Larch!
The Pine!
The Giant Redwood tree!
The Sequoia!
The Little Whopping Rule Tree!
We'd sing!  Sing!  Sing!
Oh, I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay,
I sleep all night and I work all day.
CHORUS:  He's a lumberjack, and he's okay,
         He sleeps all night and he works all day.
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lavatree.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,
          He goes to the lavatree.
          On Wednesdays he goes shoppin'
          And has buttered scones for tea.
I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing,
And hang around in bars.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,
          He likes to press wild flowers.
          He puts on women's clothing
          And hangs around.... In bars???????
I chop down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspenders and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie
Just like my dear papa.
Mounties: He cuts down trees, he wears high heels
          Suspenders and a .... a Bra????
          (spoken, raggedly)  What's this?  Wants to be a *girlie*?  Oh, My!
          And I thought you were so rugged!  Poofter!
All: He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaaaayyy.....   (BONG)
Sound Cue: The Liberty Bell March, by John Phillip Sousa.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*** Okay, Malcolm, you asked for it... Medocato...***
(Mr. Bertenshaw and his sick wife arrive at a hospital.)
Doctor: Mr. Bertenshaw?
Mr. B:  Me, Doctor.
Doctor: No, me doctor, you Mr. Bertenshaw.
Mr. B:  My wife, doctor...
Doctor: No, your wife patient.
Sister: Come with me, please.
Mr. B:  Me, Sister?
Doctor: No, she Sister, me doctor, you Mr. Bertenshaw.
Nurse:  Dr. Walters?
Doctor: Me, nurse...You Mr. Bertenshaw, she Sister, you doctor.
Sister: No, doctor.
Doctor: No doctor: call ambulance, keep warm.
Nurse:  Drink, doctor?
Doctor: Drink doctor, eat Sister, cook Mr. Bertenshaw, nurse me!
Nurse:  You, doctor?
Doctor: ME doctor!! You Mr. Bertenshaw. She Sister!
Mr. B:  But my wife, nurse...
Doctor: Your wife not nurse. She nurse, your wife patient. Be patient,
        she nurse your wife. Me doctor, you tent, you tree, you Tarzan, me
        Jane, you Trent, you Trillo...me doctor!
Sergeant-Major: Stop this, stop this. What a silly way to carry on. What
                do you want?
Customer: I wish to register a complaint.
Sergeant-Major: Well, this is a hospital. You want the pet shop in the
                next file...
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The Knights Who Say "Ni!"                                            ****
****  From, of course, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"                   ****
Voice over:  Meanwhile, King Arthur and Bedevere, not more than a swallow's
             flight away, had discovered something.
Knights of Ni: Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!
Arthur: Who are you?
Knight of Ni: We are the Knights who say.....   "Ni"!
Arthur: (horrified) No!  Not the Knights who say "Ni"!
Knight of Ni: The same.
Other Knight of Ni: Who are we?
Knight of Ni: We are the keepers of the sacred words: Ni, Ping, and Nee-womm!
Other Knight of Ni: Nee-womm!
Arthur: (to Bedevere) Those who hear them seldom live to tell the tale!
Knight of Ni: The knights who say "Ni" demand..... a sacrifice!
Arthur: Knights of Ni, we are but simple travelers who seek the enchanter who
        lives beyond these woods.
Knights of Ni: Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!  Ni!
Bedevere: No! Noooo!  Aaaugh!  No!
Knight of Ni: We shall say "Ni" to you... if you do not appease us.
Arthur: Well what is it you want?
Knight of Ni: We want.....
(pregnant pause)
                             A SHRUBBERY!!!!
(dramatic minor chord)
Arthur: A *WHAT*?
Knights of Ni: Ni!  Ni!!  Ni!  Ni!
Arthur; No!  No!  Please, please, no more!  We will find you a shrubbery.
Knight of Ni: You must return here with a shrubbery... or else you will never
              pass through this wood...   alive.
Arthur: O Knights of Ni, you are just and fair, and we will return with a
Knight of Ni: One that looks nice.
Arthur: Of course!
Knight of Ni: And not *too* expensive.
Arthur; Yes!
Knight of Ni: Noowwwww.... GO!
Arthur: O Knights of Ni.  We have brought you your shrubbery.  May we go now?
Knight of Ni: Yes, it is a good shrubbery.  I like the laurels particularly.
              But there is one small problem....
Arthur: What is that?
Knight of Ni: We are now *no longer* the Knights Who Say "Ni"!
Other Knights of Ni: Ni!  Shh! Shh!
Knight of Ni: We are now the Knights who say "Ekky-ekky-ekky-ekky-z'Bang,
              zoom-Boing, z'nourrrwringmm".
Other Knight of Ni: Ni!
Knight of Ni:  Therefore, we must give you a test.
Arthur: What is this test, o Knights of.....
        Knights who 'til recently said "Ni"?
Knight of Ni: Firstly, you must find....
                      ANOTHER SHRUBBERY!!!
(another minor chord)
Arthur: Oh not *another* shrubbery!!
Knight of Ni: (excitedly) THEN... Then, when you have found the shrubbery,
              you must place it here, beside this shrubbery, only slightly
              higher, so we get the two-level effect with a little path
              running down the middle.
Other Knights of Ni:  A path!  A path!  A path!   Shh, shhh.  Ni!  Ni!
Knight of Ni: Then, when you have found the shrubbery, you must cut down the
              mightiest tree in the forest...
              Wiiiiiithh....  A HERRING!
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
**** The Peasant scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"              ****
Arthur and his trusty servant Patsy "ride" into a field where peasants are
working.  They come up behind a cart which is being dragged by a hunched-over
peasant in ragged clothing.  Patsy slows as they near the cart.
Arthur: Old Woman!
The peasant turns around, revealing that he is in fact a man.
Man:    Man!
Arthur: Man, sorry....  What night lives in that castle over there?
Man:    I'm thirty-seven!
Arthur: (suprised) What?
Man:    I'm thirty-seven!  I'm not old--
Arthur: Well I can't just call you "man"...
Man:    Well you could say "Dennis"--
Arthur: I didn't know you were called Dennis!
Man:    Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?!
Arthur: I did say sorry about the "old woman", but from behind, you looked--
Man:    Well I object to your...you automatically treat me like an inferior!
Arthur: Well I *am* king...
Man:    Oh, king, eh, very nice.  And 'ow'd you get that, eh?
        (he reaches his destination and stops, dropping the cart)
        By exploiting the workers!  By 'angin' on to outdated imperialist dogma
        which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.
        If there's ever going to be any progress,--
Woman:  Dennis!  There's some lovely filth down 'ere!
        (noticing Arthur) Oh!  'Ow'd'ja do?
Arthur: How do you do, good lady.  I am Arthur, king of the Britons.  Whose
        castle is that?
Woman:  King of the 'oo?
Arthur: King of the Britons.
Woman:  'Oo are the Britons?
Arthur: Well we all are!  We are all Britons!  And I am your king.
Woman:  I didn't know we 'ad a king!  I thought we were autonomous collective.
Man:    (mad)  You're fooling yourself!  We're living in a dictatorship!  A
        self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--
Woman:  There you go, bringing class into it again...
Man:    That's what it's all about!  If only people would--
Arthur: Please, *please*, good people, I am in haste!  WHO lives in that
Woman:  No one lives there.
Arthur: Then who is your lord?
Woman:  We don't have a lord!
Arthur: (spurised) What??
Man:    I *told* you!  We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune!  We're taking
        turns to act as a sort of executive-officer-for-the-week--
Arthur: (uninterested) Yes...
Man:    But all the decisions *of* that officer 'ave to be ratified at a
        special bi-weekly meeting--
Arthur: (perturbed) Yes I see!
Man:    By a simple majority, in the case of purely internal affairs--
Arthur: (mad) Be quiet!
Man:    But by a two-thirds majority, in the case of more major--
Arthur: (very angry) BE QUIET!  I *order* you to be quiet!
Woman:  "Order", eh, 'oo does 'e think 'e is?
Arthur: I am your king!
Woman:  Well I didn't vote for you!
Arthur: You don't vote for kings!
Woman:  Well 'ow'd you become king then?
(holy music up)
Arthur: The Lady of the Lake-- her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite,
        held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by
        divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur.  THAT is why
        I am your king!
Man:    (laughingly) Listen: Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords
        is no basis for a system of government!  Supreme executive power
        derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some... farcical
        aquatic ceremony!
Arthur: (yelling) BE QUIET!
Man:    You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some
        watery tart threw a sword at you!!
Arthur: (coming forward and grabbing the man) Shut *UP*!
Man:    I mean, if I went 'round, saying I was an emperor, just because some
        moistened bink had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!
Arthur: (throwing the man around) Shut up, will you, SHUT UP!
Man:    Aha!  Now we see the violence inherent in the system!
Arthur: SHUT UP!
Man:    (yelling to all the other workers) Come and see the violence inherent
        in the system!  HELP, HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!
Arthur: (letting go and walking away)  Bloody PEASANT!
Man:    Oh, what a giveaway!  Did'j'hear that, did'j'hear that, eh?  That's
        what I'm all about!  Did you see 'im repressing me?  You saw it,
        didn't you?!
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
----    The Penguin on top of the Tellyvision set    ----
----    from Monty Python's Flying Circus            ----
(voice over)  Number ninety-seven: a radio.
voice on radio: And now the BBC is proud to present a brand new radio drama
series: The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots.  Part One: The Beginning.
man's voice: Yoo arrr Mary, Queen of Scots?
woman's voice: I am!
  (sound of violent blows being dealt, things being smashed, awful crunching
   noises, bones being broken, and other bodily harm being inflicted.  All of
   this accompanied by screaming from the woman.)
(music fades up and out)
voice: Stay tuned for part two of the Radio Four Production of "The Death of
Mary, Queen of Scots", coming up...almost immediately.
  (sound of saw cutting, and other violent sounds as before, with the woman
   screaming.  Suddenly it is silent.)
man's voice: I think she's dead.
woman's voice: No I'm not!
  (sounds of physical harm and screaming start again.)
  (music fades up and out)
voice: that was episode two of "The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots", specially
adapted for radio by Gracie Fields and Joe Frazier.  And now, Radio Four will
the radio explodes.
two old women are sitting on the couch listening to the radio when it
explodes.  One looks at the other:
1: We'll have to watch the Telly-vision!
2: Aaaaw.
(they turn the couch so it's facing the television.  One turns the television
 on, and they sit down.  There is a small penguin sitting on top of the
 television set.)
1 & 2: (singing, mumbled)  hhmhmhmhmh... mhmmhmh mhmhm hhmhmmhm mhmhmmhmhmh
1: What's that on top of the telly-vision set?
2: (matter-of-factly) Looks like a penguin.
1: What's it doin' there?
2: It's sittin'.
1: I can see that!  I meant, why's it there?
2: (pause) I don't know.
1: Where'd it come from?
2: Well, it must have come from the zoo.
1: It can't have come from the zoo!  If it had come from the zoo it would have
   "Property of the Zoo" stamped on it!
2: They don't stamp animals "Property of the Zoo"!!!  You can't stamp a huge
1: (resolute)  They stamp them when they're small.
2: Besides, penguins don't come from the zoo!  they come from the antartic!
  (the television warms up: a man is sitting behind a news desk)
man:  And now the penguin on top of your television set will explode.
(the penguin explodes)
1: 'Ow did 'e know that was going to happen?!
man: it was an educated guess.  And now:
voice over:  Number ninety-eight: the nape of the neck.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*** Continued from Me, Doctor?
*** (From "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and  "And Now For Something
*** Completely Different")
                        The Pet Shoppe
A customer enters a pet shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C: <pause> I'm sorry, I have a cold.  I wish to make a complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad.  I wish to complain about this parrot what I
   purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's
   wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking
   at one right now.
O: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'!  Remarkable bird, the Norwegian
   Blue, idn'it, ay?  Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it.  It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no!  'E's resting!
C: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up!
   (shouting at the cage)
   'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot!  I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if
   you show...(owner hits the cage)
O: There, he moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!!
   Testing! Testing!  Testing!  Testing!  This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter.  Throws it up
in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
C: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
O: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
O: Yeah!  You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up!  Norwegian Blues
   stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this.
   That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
   ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein'
   tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!?  What kind of talk is that?, look, why
   did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
O: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back!  Remarkable bird, id'nit,
   squire?  Lovely plumage!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home,
   and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in
   the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there!  If I hadn't nailed that bird down,
   it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
C: "VOOM"?!?  Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts
   through it!  'E's bleedin' demised!
O: No no!  'E's pining!
C: 'E's not pinin'!  'E's passed on!  This parrot is no more!  He has ceased
   to be!  'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker!  'E's a stiff!  Bereft
   of life, 'e rests in peace!  If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be
   pushing up the daisies!  'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory!  'E's off
   the twig!  'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run
   down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O:  Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're
    right out of parrots.
C: I see.  I see, I get the picture.
O: <pause> I got a slug.
C: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
O: Look, if you go to my brother's pet shop in Bolton, he'll replace
   the parrot for you.
C: Bolton, eh? Very well.
The customer leaves.
The customer enters a remarkably similar pet shop.  The owner is putting on a
false moustache.
C: This -is- Bolton, is it?
O: (with a fake mustache) No, it's Ipswitch.
C: (looking at the camera) That's inter-city rail for you.
The customer goes to the train station.
He addresses a man standing behind a desk marked "Complaints".
C: I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.
C: I beg your pardon...?
A: I'm a qualified brain surgeon!  I only do this job because I like
   being my own boss!
C: Excuse me, this is irrelevant, isn't it?
A: Yeah, well it's not easy to pad these python files out to 200 lines,
   you know. (Lightly edited)
C: Well, I wish to complain. I got on the Bolton train and found myself
   deposited here in Ipswitch.
A: No, this is Bolton.
C: (to the camera) The pet shop man's brother was lying!!
A: Can't blame British Rail for that.
C: In that case, I shall return to the pet shop!
He does.
C: I understand this IS Bolton.
O: (still with the fake mustache) Yes?
C: You told me it was Ipswitch!
O: ...It was a pun.
C: (pause) A PUN?!?
O: No, no...not a pun...What's that thing that spells the same backwards
   as forwards?
C: (Long pause)  A palindrome...?
O: Yeah, that's it!
C: It's not a palindrome! The palindrome of "Bolton" would be "Notlob"!!
   It don't work!!
O: Well, what do you want?
C: I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as I think
   this is getting too silly!
Sergeant-Major: Quite agree, quite agree, too silly, far too silly...
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*****   The Pilate's Chamber Scene from Life of Brian           *****
(BRIAN is hauled into PILATE'S audience chamber.  It is big and impressive,
 although a certain amount of redecorating is underway.  The CENTURION salutes.)
CENTURON:  Hail Caesar.
PILATE:    Hail Caesar.
CENTURON:  Only one survivor, sir.
PILATE:    Thwow him to the floor.
CENTURON:  What sir?
PILATE:    Thwow him to the floor.
  (He indicates to the two roman GUARDS who throw BRIAN to the ground.)
PILATE:    Now, what is your name, Jew?
BRIAN:     Brian.
PILATE:    Bwian, eh?
BRIAN:  (trying to be helpful) No, *BRIAN*.
  (The CENTURION cuffs him.)
PILATE:    The little wascal has spiwit.
CENTURON:  Has what, sir?
CENTURON:  Yes, he did, sir.
PILATE:    No, no, spiwit ... bwavado ... a touch of dewwing-do.
CENTURON:  (still not really understanding) Ah.  About eleven, sir.
PILATE: (to BRIAN) So you dare to waid us.
BRIAN: (rising to his feet) To what?
PILATE:    Stwike him, centuwion, vewwy woughly.
CENTURON:  And throw him to the floor, sir?
PILATE:    What?
CENTURON:  THWOW him to the floor again, sir?
PILATE:    Oh yes.  Thwow him to the floor.
  (The CENTURION knocks BRIAN hard on the side of the head again and the TWO
   GUARDS throw him to the floor.)
PILATE:    Now, Jewish wapscallion.
BRIAN:     I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Roman!
BRIAN:     No, *ROMAN*.
  (But he's not quick enough to avoid another blow from the CENTURION.)
PILATE:    So, your father was a *WOMAN*.  Who was he?
BRIAN:     He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrison.
PILATE:    Oh.  What was his name?
BRIAN:     Naughtius Maximus.
  (An involuntary titter arises from the CENTURION.)
PILATE:    Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
CENTURON:  Well ... no sir.
PILATE:    You sound vewwy sure ... have you checked?
CENTURON:  Well ... no sir ... I think it's a joke, sir ... like ... Sillius
           Soddus or ... Biggus Dickus.
PILATE:    What's so funny about Biggus Dickus?
CENTURON:  Well ... it's a ... joke name, sir.
PILATE:    I have a vewwy gweat fwend in Wome called Biggus Dickus.
  (Involuntary laughter from a nearby GUARD surprises PILATE.)
           Silence!  What is all this insolence?  You will find yourself in
           gladiator school vewwy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.
  (The GUARD tries to stop giggling.  PILATE turns away from him.  He is angry.)
BRIAN:     Can I go now sir ...
  (The CENTURION strikes him.)
PILATE:    Wait till Biggus hears of this!
  (The GUARD immediately breaks up again.  PILATE turns on him.)
           Wight!  Centuwion ... take him away.
CENTURON:  Oh sir, he only ...
PILATE:    I want him fighting wabid wild animals within a week.
CENTURON:  Yes, sir.
  (He starts to drag out the wretched GUARD.  BRIAN notices that little
   attention is being paid to him.)
PILATE:    I will not have my fwends widiculed by the common soldiewy.
  (He walks slowly towards the other GUARDS.)
           Now ... anyone else feel like a little giggle when I mention my
           fwend ...  (He goes right up to one of the GUARDS.)
           Biggus ....... Dickus?  He has a wife you know.
  (The GUARDS tense up.)
           Called Incontinentia.
  (The GUARDS relax.)
      (quickly) Incontinentia Buttocks.
  (The GUARDS fall about laughing.  BRIAN takes advantage of the chaos to slip
           Silence!  I've had enough of this wowdy wabble webel behaviour. Stop
           Call yourselves Pwaetonian guards.  Silence!
  (But the GUARDS are all hysterical by now.  PILATE notices BRIAN escaping.)
           You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps.  Seize him!  Blow your noses and
           seize him!  Oh my bum.
*****   Here endeth Part Ten of Life of Brian (of Nazareth)     *****
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
*****   The Inalienable Rights Scene from Life of Brian         *****
(A huge Roman amphitheatre sparsely attended.  REG, FRANCIS, STAN and JUDITH
 are seated in the stands.  They speak conspiratorially.)
JUDITH:  ...Any Anti-Imperialist group like ours must *reflect* such a
         divergence of interests within its power-base.
REG:     Agreed.
    (General nodding.)
FRANCIS: I think Judith's point of view is valid here, Reg, provided the
         Movement never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every
STAN:    Or woman.
FRANCIS: Or woman ... to rid himself ...
STAN:    Or herself.
REG:     Or herself.  Agreed.  Thank you, brother.
STAN:    Or sister.
FRANCIS: Thank you, brother.  Or sister.  Where was I?
REG:     I thought you'd finished.
FRANCIS: Oh, did I?  Right.
REG:     Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man ...
STAN:    Or woman.
REG:     Why don't you shut up about women, Stan, you're putting us off.
STAN:    Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Reg.
FRANCIS: Why are you always on about women, Stan?
STAN:    ... I want to be one.
REG:     ... What?
STAN:    I want to be a woman.  From now on I want you all to call me Loretta.
REG:     What!?
STAN:    It's my right as a man.
JUDITH:  Why do you want to be Loretta, Stan?
STAN:    I want to have babies.
REG:     You want to have babies?!?!?!
STAN:    It's every man's right to have babies if he wants them.
REG:     But you can't have babies.
STAN:    Don't you oppress me.
REG:     I'm not oppressing you, Stan -- you haven't got a womb.  Where's the
         fetus going to gestate?  You going to keep it in a box?
   (STAN starts crying.)
JUDITH:  Here!  I've got an idea.  Suppose you agree that he can't actually
         have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the
         Romans', but that he can have the *right* to have babies.
FRANCIS: Good idea, Judith.  We shall fight the oppressors for your right to
         have babies, brother.  Sister, sorry.
REG:     What's the point?
REG:     What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies, when he
         can't have babies?
FRANCIS: It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.
REG:     It's symbolic of his struggle against reality.
*****   Here endeth Part Six of ... Life of Brian (of Nazareth) *****
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
**** Brave and Bold Sir Robin -- his song                                  ****
                 **    The Tale  of Sir Robin.    **
So, each of the knights went their separate ways.
Sir Robin rode north, through the dark forest of Ewing, accompanied by his
favorite minstrels.
Minstrel sings:
Bravely bold Sir Robin
Brought forth from Camelot.
He was not afraid to die,
Oh, brave Sir Robin!
He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways.
Brave, brave, brave Sir Robin.
He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp.
Or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken!
To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away
And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin.
His head smashed in and his heart cut out,
And his liver removed and his bowls unplugged,
And his nostrils raked and his bottom burnt off,
And his penis--
Robin (interputing):  That's...That's, uh...  That's enough music for now,
     lads.  It looks like there's dirty work afoot.
Three headed knight: HALT!!!
Voice over:  YES!!  It was the dreaded Three Headed Knight, the fiercest
             creature for *yards* around!
             For second....  after second..., Robin held his own, but the
             onslaught proved too much for the brave knight.  Scarcely was
             his armor damp, when Robin suddenly, dramatically, changed his
Minstrel:                               Robin:
Brave Sir Robin ran away.               No!
Bravely ran away away....               I didn't!
When Danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled     No!!
Yes brave Sir Robin turned about        I didn't!
And gallantly chickened out..
Bravely bravely bravely bravely         I never did!
Bravely bravely bravely bravely         All lies!
Bravely bravely brave Sir Robin!        I never!
Voice over:  Meanwhile, King Arthur and Bedevere, not more than a swallow's
             flight away, had discovered something.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  Flying Sheep                                                         ****
****  From the first Monty Python's Flying Circus episode ever!!!          ****
                             Flying Sheep
(A tourist approaches a shepherd.  The sounds of sheep and the outdoors
are heard.)
Tourist: Good afternoon.
Shephrd: Eh, 'tis that.
Tourist: You here on holiday?
Shephrd: Nope, I live 'ere.
Tourist: Oh, good for you.  Uh...those ARE sheep aren't they?
Shephrd: Yeh.
Tourist: Hmm, thought they were.  Only, what are they doing up in the
Shephrd: A fair question and one that in recent weeks 'as been much on
         my mind.  It's my considered opinion that they're nestin'.
Tourist: Nesting?
Shephrd: Aye.
Tourist: Like birds?
Shephrd: Exactly.  It's my belief that these sheep are laborin' under
         the misapprehension that they're birds.  Observe their be'avior.
         Take for a start the sheeps' tendency to 'op about the field
         on their 'ind legs.  Now witness their attmpts to fly from
         tree to tree.  Notice that they do not so much fly as...plummet.
<Baaa baaa... flap flap flap ... whoosh ... thud.>
Tourist: Yes, but why do they think they're birds?
Shephrd: Another fair question.  One thing is for sure, the sheep is not
         a creature of the air.  They have enormous difficulty in the
         comparatively simple act of perchin'.
<Baaa baaa... flap flap flap ... whoosh ... thud.>
         Trouble is, sheep are very dim.  Once they get an idea in their
         'eads, there's no shiftin' it.
Tourist: But where did they get the idea?
Shephrd: From Harold.  He's that most dangerous of creatures, a clever
         sheep.  'e's realized that a sheep's life consists of standin'
         around for a few months and then bein' eaten.  And that's a
         depressing prospect for an ambitious sheep.
Tourist: Well why don't just remove Harold?
Shephrd: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities if 'e succeeds.
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The string sketch
Adrian Wapcaplet:  Aah, come in, come in, Mr....Simpson.  Aaah, welcome to
    Mousebat, Follicle, Goosecreature, Ampersand, Spong, Wapcaplet, Looseliver,
    Vendetta and Prang!
Mr. Simpson: Thank you.
Wapcaplet: Do sit down--my name's Wapcaplet, Adrian Wapcaplet...
Mr. Simpson: how'd'y'do.
Wapcaplet: Now, Mr. Simpson... Simpson, Simpson... French, is it?
S: No.
W: Aah.  Now, I understand you want us to advertise your washing powder.
S: String.
W: String, washing powder, what's the difference.  We can sell *anything*.
S: Good.  Well I have this large quantity of string, a hundred and twenty-two
   thousand *miles* of it to be exact, which I inherited, and I thought if I
   advertised it...
W: Of course!  A national campaign.  Useful stuff, string, no trouble there.
S: Ah, but there's a snag, you see.  Due to bad planning, the hundred and
   twenty-two thousand miles is in three inch lengths.  So it's not very
W: Well, that's our selling point!
S: What?
S: For what?
S: Such as?
W: Uhmm...Tying up very small parcels, attatching notes to pigeons' legs, uh,
   destroying household pests...
S: Destroying household pests?!  How?
W: Well, if they're bigger than a mouse, you can strangle them with it, and if
   they're smaller than, you flog them to death with it!
S: Well *surely*!....
S: 'Ospitals!?!?!?!!?
W: Have you ever in a Hospital where they didn't have string?
S: No, but it's only *string*!
W: ONLY STRING?!  It's everything!  It's...it's waterproof!
S: No it isn't!
W: All right, it's water resistant then!
S: It isn't!
W: All right, it's water absorbent!  It's...Super Absorbent String!
S: You just said it was waterproof!
S: You're mad!
W: Shut up, shut up, shut up!  Sex, sex sex, must get sex into it.  Wait,
   I see a television commercial-
   There's this nude woman in a bath holding a bit of your string.  That's
   great, great, but we need a doctor, got to have a medical opinion.
   There's a nude woman in a bath with a doctor--that's too sexy.  Put an
   archbishop there watching them, that'll take the curse off it.  Now, we
   need children and animals.
   There's two kids admiring the string, and a dog admiring the archbishop
   who's blessing the string.  Uhh...international flavor's missing...make the
   archbishop Greek Orthodox....
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The Tale of Sir Launcelot                                            ****
****  From "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"                               ****
                      THE TALE OF SIR LAUNCELOT
As Sir Launcelot, the boldest and most expensive of the knights, lost his way
in the Forest of Ewing, at nearby Swamp Castle, a celebration was underway.
Setting: A small garret room in the Tall Tower of Swamp Castle.
         The King and his son the Prince.
King: (gesturing expansively out the window) One day, lad, *all* this will be
Son: What, the curtains?
King: No, not the curtains, lad!  All that you can see, stretched out over the
      'ills and valleys of this land.  That'll be your kindom, lad.
Son: But, Mother...
King: Father, lad, Father.
Son:  But, Father, I don't want any of that.
King: Listen, lad:  I built this kingdom up from nuthin'.  When I started
      here, all of this was swamp!  Other kings said it was *daft* to build a
      castle in a swamp, but I built it all the same, just to show 'em!  It
      sank into the swamp.  SO, I built a second one!  That sank into the
      swamp.  So I built a *third* one.  That burned down, fell over, *then*
      sank into the swamp.  But the fourth one......stayed up.  And that's what
      you're gonna get, lad:  the *strongest* castle in these islands.
Son:  But I don't want any of that! I'd rather...
King: Rather what?
Son:  I'd rather...just...sing!......
      <music up>
King: Stop that!  Stop that!  You're not going into a song while I'm here!
      <music dies away>
      Now, listen, lad.  In twenty minutes you're gettin' married to a girl
      whose father owns the biggest *tracts* of open land in England.
Son:  But I don't want land!
King: Listen, Alex...
Son:  'Erbert...
King: 'Erbert.  We live in a bloody swamp!  We need all the land we can get!!
Son:  But... but I don't *like* 'er!
King: don't like 'er?!?  What's wrong with 'er?  She's...  beautiful, she's...
      *rich*, she's got...  HUGE.............  tracts o' land...
Son:  Ah...ah know.  But I want the girl that I marry to have...  a
      certain...*special*...something...  <music up>
King: Cut that out!!  Cut that out.... <grabs the prince>
      <music dies away>
      You're marryin' Princess Lucky, so you'd better get used to the idea!
      <slaps the prince>
      GUARDS!!!  <two guards come in>
      Make sure the prince doesn't leave this room until I come and get 'im.
      <starts to go>
Guard 1: <repeating> Not to leave the room, even if you come and get 'im.
Guard 2: *Hic*
King:    Nono....  *Until* I come and get him.
Guard 1: Until you come and get him, we're not to enter the room.
King:    <stops> Nono, no... You *stay* in the room, and make sure *he*
         doesn't leave.
Guard 1: And you'll come and get him.
Guard 2: *Hic*
King:    Right.
Guard 1: We don't need to do anything, apart from just stop him, entering the
King:    Nono.  *Leaving* the room.
Guard 1: Leaving the room, yes.
King:    All right?
Guard 1: 'Right.
King:    Right.  <goes out the door>
Guard 1: Oh!  If if if uhhhh.... if if uhhhhh....  If if if we......
King:    <coming back in> Yes, what is it?
Guard 1: Oh.  I-if.......     Oh....
King:    Look, it's quite simple.
Guard 1: Uh.....
King:    You just stay here, and make sure 'e doesn't leave the room.
         All right?
Guard 2: *hic*
Guard 1: Oh, I remember!  Uhhhh, can he leave the room with us?
King:    No...nono, no.   You just keep him in 'ere, and make sure...
Guard 1: Oh yes, we'll keep him in here, obviously, but if he *had*
         to leave, and we *were* with him...
King:    nononono just KEEP HIM IN HERE
Guard 1: ...Until you or anyone else...
King:    No, not anyone else, just me...
Guard 1: ...Just you...
Guard 2: *hic*
King:    Get back.
Guard 1: Get back.
King:    All right?
Guard 1: Right, we'll stay here until you get back.
Guard 2: *hic*
King:    <pause>  And, uh... make sure 'e doesn't leave.
Guard 1: What?
King:    <pause>  Make sure 'e doesn't leave!
Guard 1: The prince??????
Guard 2: *hic*
Guard 1: Oh, yes, of course!!  I thought you meant him!  <motions towards
         the second guard>  You know, it seemed a bit daft me having to guard
         him when 'e's a guard...
King:    <pause> Is that clear?
Guard 1: Oh, quite clear, no problems!
Guard 2: *hic*
King:    Right. <starts to leave. The guards follow him>
         Where are *you* going?
Guard 1: We're coming with you!
King: Nono, I want you to *stay* here and MAKE SURE 'E DOESN'T LEAVE!
Guard 1: Oh, I see, right!
Son:     <plaintively>  but father...
King:    Shut your noise, you!  And get that suit on.  <leaves>
<music up>
<king re-enters>
         AND NO SINGING!
Guard 2: *hic*
King: Oh, go and get a glass of water.  (leaves)
The Prince looks at the guards.  They look at him.  He smiles.  They smile
back.  He gets a pen a paper out.  He smiles at them.  They smile back.
He scribbles something on it very fast, not looking at it.  He smiles at the
guards.  They smile back.  The Prince gets a bow and arrow from the wall.
He sticks the note on the arrow.  He smiles at the guards.  They smile back.
He side-steps to the window.  He smiles at the guards.  They smile back.
He shoots the arrow with the note out the window.  He puts down the bow.
He smiles at the guards.  They smile back.
Guard 2: *Hic*
Meanwhile, at a nearby stream, Sir Launcelot approaches. We hear horse's hooves
in the distance. Sir Launcelot appears, behind Concorde, who is banging two
coconut halves together to make the noise of a horse.
Launcelot: Ho! <they jump over the stream> Well taken, Concorde! Steady there,
         <an arrow whizzes through the air and embeds itself in Concorde>
Concorde: (as he falls) Message for you, sir.  (he falls)
Launcelot: Concorde!!  (spying the arrow) A note!  <reads> "To whomever finds
           this note. Help. I am being held prisoner by my father who wishes
          me to marry *against my will*!! Please please please please rescue
          me.  I am in the Tall Tower of Swamp Castle."  <aloud> A quest! A
          damsel in distress!  Oh, Concorde, noble Concorde, you shall not have
          died in vain!  <starts to draw sword>
Concorde: I'm not quite dead yet, sir!
Launcelot: (a bit put off) Well...you shall not have been...mortally wounded
         in vain! <draws sword>
Concorde: I think I could pull through, sir.
Launcelot: (a bit more put off) Concorde, maybe you'd better stay here and
         rest a bit, eh?
Concorde: Oh, I think I could come with you, sir...
Launcelot: No, no, Concorde, brave soul, you shall stay here, and I...I shall
         undertake a perilous quest to win freedom for a maiden and eternal
         fame for myself. Farewell, Concorde!! <runs off, leaving Concorde
         looking after him perplexedly>
Scene: The drawbridge of Swamp Castle.  Two guards standing here looking very
       bored.  Off in the distance, they see Launcelot running towards them
       waving his sword in the air.  They look at each other, then back at
       Launcelot. They seem confused.  He does not get any closer, though he
       he keeps running.  The guards look at each other again.  One taps his
       forehead.  They lean on their pikes and idly watch Sir Launcelot
       still running towards them and getting nowhere.  They look at each
       other.  Suddenly Launcelot appears right next to them and runs them
       both through.  They die, considerably surprised.
       Launcelot runs through the castle, slicing, dicing, grating, mincing,
       and otherwise generally killing the entire populace.  He fights his
       way up to the Tower through the throngs of bewildered wedding guests.
       He reached the Tower and throws open the door.
Guard 1: Hello!  Urggh.  <dies, run though>
Guard 2: *Hic*  <also run through>
Launcelot: <kneeling before the white-garbed figure in the room> Milady, here
           kneels the humble Sir Launcelot of Camelot, Knight of the Round
           Table, and I stand ready to deliver you from-- <sees it's a man,
           gets up immediately>  Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
Son: <claps hands delightedly> You got my note!
Launcelot: Well, I got *a* note...let's not jump to conclusions...
Son: I *knew* some one would read it and rescue me!  I've got a rope all ready!
     <dispays shredded blanket made into rope>  Let's climb down!
King: <barging in, quite upset>  What's all this!?!  <sees Launcelot> Are you
      the one who killed all my guests?
Son: He's come to rescue me!
King: Shut your noise, you.  Well, what about it?
Launcelot: <highly embarrassed>  Well, I suppose I may have got...a bit...
           carried away with the moment...
King: Carried away?!?  Look, whoever you are, you not only ruined my wedding
         reception, and caused me great mental anguish, but you killed the
         bride's father and kicked the bride in the chest!  Now what sort of
         behavior is that???  Who are you, anyway?
Launcelot: Well, I am Sir Launcelot of King Arthur's Court, and I--
King: King Arthur??  King-of-England Arthur?  And you're one of his Knights of
      the Round Table?
Son: I'm ready, Sir Launcelot!  <ties rope to table>
Launcelot: Well...yes...and I'm awfully sorry about the fuss...
King: Fuss? Nonsense!!  Why, Sir Launcelot, consider yourself my honored guest,
      please!  (quietly) Lots of land up by Camelot, eh?
Launcelot: Well, I'm terribly sorry about killing all those people...and
           kicking the bride...
Son: Hurry, Sir Launcelot! <goes out the window>
King: Don't worry about a thing, sir.  Just come downstairs with me, will you?
      I want to introduce you to everyone.
Launcelot: Well, thank you....Thank you very much... <leaves>
King: I won't be a minute, Sir Launcelot.... <goes to window, draws dagger>
Son: (from outside)  Are you coming, Sir Launcelot?
     <The King cuts the blanket-rope, which slithers out the window>
     Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!  (thump)
King: (liltingly)  Coming, Sir Launcelot...
Sir Launcelot goes down the stairs. Upon recognizing him as the one who caused
all the damage, the remaining guests shout such things as, "There he is!" and,
"He's the one!" and, "Get him!" Launcelot draws his sword and goes beserk
King: Oh, bloody hell.
Launcelot is at last subdued before causing too much damage, save only kicking
the bride again, and the King prepares to make a speech.
King: Ladies and gentlemen.  This man whom you see beside me is my own honored
      friend, Sir Launcelot of Camelot.  He has come all this way just to---
Guest: He killed the bride's father!!
King: Oh, come now! Let's not bicker and argue about 'oo killed 'oo! Sir
      Lancelot has come to celebrate with me the joyful occasion of my son's
      marriage to Princess Lucky.  Unfortunately, my son Herbert has just
      fallen to his death from the Tall Tower.  (gasps) But, I like to think of
      myself, not as having lost a son, but as having gained a daughter.  For,
      since the father of the bride perished in most untimely circumstances....
Voice: He's not quite dead yet....
King: (thrown) Er...since her father has come so close to death as to be
       considered dead...
Voice: I think he's coming 'round!
King: <whispers to a guard, who circles towards the back of the room, where the
      father lies> Since her father, who, when it seemed he was just on the
      verge of recovery, suddenly felt the icy hand of death upon him...
Voice: He's kicked off!
King: Right...I should like the Princess to think of me as her own Dad. In the
      firm and legally binding sense.  And, as this is meant to be a wedding
      day, I would like to welcome Sir Launcelot into my family, and give him
      the hand of my new daughter in earnest token of my esteem for him and his
      title.  <pause, some feeble applause from the guards>
Launcelot: <taken aback>  Well, really, I must be going, I don't think--
King: Going?  Nonsense!  Why, how could you leave me at a time like this, so
      recently bereft of my only son?
Concorde: <entering with Son>  He's not quite dead yet! (general reaction)
King: Oh, bloody hell.
Voice: But, how on earth did you survive the fall from the Tall Tower?
Son: Well, I'll tell you...
         <music starts>
King: No! Wait! Stop that! <But it is too late>
Guests:                 He's going to tell,
                        he's going to tell,
                        he's going to tell,
                        he's going to tell!
                        He's going to tell,
                        he's going to tell,
                        he's going to tell,
                        he's going to tell!
Concorde: Quick, sir, let's get out of here. This way.
Launcelot: No, no. I need something more...more...
Concorde: Dramatic, sir?
Launcelot: Dramatic!  Right!  This bell pull will do...  <grabs bell pull.
           Runs up stairs.  Jumps in the air.  Swings down towards the window.
           Falls about twelve feet short, having not given himself a very good
           start.  Swings back and forth for a short time.>
Launcelot: Err...could someone give me a push?
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The Opening Scene of Life of Brian                                   ****
(Three camels are silhouetted against the bright stars of the moonless sky,
moving slowly along the horizon.  A star leads them towards Bethlehem.  The
WISE MEN enter the gates of the sleeping town and make their way through the
deserted streets.  A dog snarls at them.  They approach a stable, out of which
streams a beam of light.  They dismount and enter to find a typical manger
scene, with a baby in a rough crib of straw and patient animals standing
around.  The mother nods by the side of the child.  Suddenly she wakes from her
lightish doze, sees them, shrieks and falls backwards off her straw.  She's up
again in a flash, looking guardedly at them.  She is a ratbag.)
Mandy: Who are you?
Wise Man 1: We are three wise men.
Wise Man 2: We are astrologers.  We have come from the East.
Mandy: Is this some kind of joke?
WM1:   We wish to praise the infant.
WM2:   We must pay homage to him.
Mandy: Homage!!  You're all drunk you are.  It's disgusting.  Out, out.
WM3:   No, no.
Mandy: Coming bursting in here first thing in the morning with some tale about
       Oriental fortune tellers...  get out.
WM1:   No.  No we must see him.
Mandy: Go and praise someone else's brat, go on.
WM2:   We were led by a star.
Mandy: Led by a bottle, more like.  Get out!
WM2:   We must see him.  We have brought presents.
Mandy: Out!
WM1:   Gold, frankincense, myrrh.
(Mandy changes direction, smooth as silk.)
Mandy: Well, why didn't you say?  He's over here ...  Sorry this place is a
       bit of a mess.  What is myrrh, anyway?
WM3:   It is a valuable balm.
Mandy: A balm, what are you giving him a balm for?  It might bite him.
WM3:   What?
Mandy: It's a dangerous animal.  Quick, throw it in the trough.
WM3:   No it isn't.
Mandy: Yes it is.
WM3:   No, no, it is an ointment.
Mandy: An ointment?
WM3:   Look.
Mandy: (sampling the ointment with a grubby finger).  Oh. There is an animal
       called a balm or did I dream it?  You astrologers, eh?  Well, what's he
then?  WM2: H'm?
Mandy: What star sign is he?
WM2:   Capricorn.
Mandy: Capricorn eh, what are they like?
WM2:   He is the son of God, our Messiah.
WM1:   King of the Jews.
Mandy: And that's Capricorn, is it?
WM3:   No, no, that's just him.
Mandy: Oh, I was going to say, otherwise there'd be a lot of them.
(The WISE MEN are on their knees.)
WM2: By what name are you calling him?
(Dramatic Holy music... )
Mandy: ... Brian.
Three Wise Men: We worship you, Oh, Brian, who are Lord over us all.  Praise
                unto you, Brian and to the Lord our Father.  Amen.
Mandy: Do you do a lot of this, then?
WM1:   What?
Mandy: This praising.
WM1:   No, no, no.
Mandy: Oh!  Well, if you're dropping by again do pop in.
   (They take the hint and rise.)
       And thanks a lot for the gold and frankincense but ...  don't worry too
       much about the myrrh next time.  Thank you ...  Goodbye.
(To Brian)
       Well weren't they nice ... out of their bloody minds, but still...
(In the background we see the WISE MEN pause outside the door as a
 gentle glow suffuses them.  They look at each other, confer and then
 stride back in and grab the presents off MANDY and turn to go again,
 pushing MANDY over.  )
       Here, here, that's mine, you just gave me that.  Ow!
Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *  
****  The Witch Scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"               ****
Bedevere stands on a stage in front of a large crowd of wild villagers.
Villager: We have found a witch, may we burn her?
Bedevere: But how do you *know* she is a witch?
Villager: She looks like one!
Other Villagers: Yeah!  She looks like one!!!
Bedevere: Bring her forward.
(a young woman is pushed through the crowd of villagers to the platform.  She
 is dressed all in black, has a carrot tied around her face on top of her nose,
 and a black paper hat on her head.  She talks funny because her nose is
 closed by the carrot.)
Witch: I'm not a witch, I'm not a witch!
Bedevere: Er,...but you are dressed as one.
Witch: THEY dressed me up like this.
Villagers: No! nooo!  We didn't!  We didn't!
Witch: And this isn't my nose, it's a false one!
(Bedevere lifts up the carrot to reveal the woman's real nose, which is in
 fact rather small.)
Bedevere: Well?
One Villager: Well, we did do the nose.
Bedevere: The nose?
Villager: And the Hat.  But she's a witch!
Villagers: Yeah! Burn her! Burn! Burn her!
Bedevere: Did you dress her up like this?
Villagers: NO! No, no, no, no, no, no...
One Villager: yes.
Villagers: yes. yes. yes.  A bit. yes. a bit. a bit.
Another Villager: (hopefully) She has got a wart...
Bedevere: What makes you think she is a witch?
Villager: Well, She turned me into a newt!!
Bedevere: a newt?
(long pause)
Villager: I got better...
Villagers: BURN HER anyway! BURN! BURN! BURN HER!
Bedevere: Quiet, quiet, quiet, QUIETA  There are ways of *telling* whether she
   is a witch!
Villagers: Are there?  What?  Tell us, then!  Tell us!
Bedevere: Tell me.  What do you do with witches?
V: BUUUURN!!!!! BUUUUUURRRRNN!!!!!  You BURN them!!!!  BURN!!
Bedevere: And what do you burn apart from witches?
Villager: More Witches!
Other Villager: Wood.
Bedevere: So.  Why do witches burn?
(long silence)
(shuffling of feet by the villagers)
Villager: (tentatively) Because they're made of.....wood?
Bedevere: Goooood!
Other Villagers:  oh yeah... oh....
Bedevere: So.  How do we tell whether she is made of wood?
One Villager: Build a bridge out of 'er!
Bedevere: Aah.  But can you not also make bridges out of stone?
Villagers: oh yeah. oh.  umm...
Bedevere: Does wood sink in water?
One Villager: No! No, no, it floats!
Other Villager: Throw her into the pond!
Villagers: yaaaaaa!
(when order is restored)
Bedevere: What also floats in water?
Villager: Bread!
Another Villager: Apples!
Another Villager: Uh...very small rocks!
Another Villager: Cider!
Another Villager: Uh...great gravy!
Another Villager: Cherries!
Another Villager: Mud!
Another Villager: Churches! Churches!
Another Villager: Lead! Lead!
King Arthur: A Duck!
Villagers: (in amazement) ooooooh!
Bedevere: exACTly!
Bedevere: (to a villager) So, *logically*...
Villager: (very slowly, with pauses between each word)
          If...she...weighs the same as a duck......she's made of wood.
Bedevere: and therefore...
Villager: A Witch!
All Villagers: A WITCH!
(they do consequently weigh her across from a duck on Bedevere's largest
scale, and she does weigh the same as the duck.)

Gå til toppen af siden * Gå til TEKSTER  *