(Sound: Church bells, lots of them, ringing.)
Man: I wish those bloody bells would stop.
Wife: Oh, it's quite nice dear, it's Sunday, it's the church.
Man: What about us atheists? Why should we have to listen to that sectarian turmoil?
Wife: You're a lapsed atheist, dear.
Man: The principle's the same. Bleeding C of E. The Mohhamedans don't come 'round here wavin' bells at us! We don't get Buddhists playing bagpipes in our bathroom! Or Hindus harmonizing in the hall! The Shintus don't come here shattering sheet glass in the shithouse and shouting slogans.
Wife: All right, don't practice your alliteration on me.
Man: Anyway, when I get my membership card and blazer badge back from the League of Agnostics, I shall urge the executive to lodge a protest against that religious racket! Pass the butter knife!
Wife: WHAT??
Man: PASS THE BUTTER KNIFE!! (pause) THANK YOU! IF ONLY WE HAD SOME KIND OF MISSILE!
Wife: 'OLD ON, I'LL CLOSE THE WINDOW.
(Sound: Window closing, bells get faint, but are still there)
Man: If only we had some kind of missile, we could take the steam out of those bells.
Wife: Well, you could always use the number 14 to St. Joseph-the-somewhat-divine-on-the-hill ballistic missile. It's in the attic.
Man: What ballistic missile would this be, then?
(Sound of bells begins to get increasingly louder)
Wife: I made it for you, it's your birthday present!
Man: Just what I wanted, 'ow nice of you to remember, my pet. 'ERE!
Wife: WHAT?
Man: THOSE BELLS ARE GETTING LOUDER!
Wife: WHAT?
Man: THOSE BELLS ARE GETTING LOUDER!!
Wife: THE BELLS ARE GETTING LOUDER! OOOH, LOOK!
Man: WHAT?
Wife: THE CHURCH, IT.. ITS COMING CLOSER! ITS COMING DOWN THE 'ILL!
Man: WHAT A LIBERTY!
Wife: ITS TURNING INTO OUR LANE!
Man: STRAIGHT THROUGH THE LIGHTS OF COURSE!
Wife: TYPICAL. WELL, YOU BETTER GO PUT IT OUT OF IT'S MISERY.
Man: WHERE'S THIS MISSILE, THEN?
Wife: IT'S IN THE ATTIC CUPBOARD. PRESS THE BUTTON MARKED 'CHURCH'!
Man: 'OW DO I AIM IT?
Wife: IT AUTOMATICALLY HOMES IN ON THE NEAREST PLACE OF WORSHIP!
Man: THAT'S ST. MARKS!
Wife: IT ISN'T NOW, LOOK!! OH, IT'S OPENING THE GATE.
Man: WHAT? USE THE MEGAPHONE!
Wife: IT'S OPENING THE GATE!!
Man: OPEN UP THE ATTIC CUPBOARD!!
Wife: I AM, HURRY UP, ITS TRAMPLING OVER THE AZALIAS!
(Sound of missle launch, explosion, bells stop)
Man: Did I 'it it?
Wife: Yes, right up the aisle.
Man: Well I've always said, There's nothing an agnostic can't do if he really doesn't know whether he believes in anything or not.
************************************************
Samson: (John Cleese) Blood donors that way, please.
Donor: Oh, thank you very much.
Samson: Thank you.
Grimshaw: (Eric Idle) (whispering)
Samson: What?
Grimshaw: (whispering)
Samson: No, no. I'm sorry, but 'no'.
Grimshaw: (whispering)
Samson: No, you may not give urine instead of blood.
Grimshaw: (whispering)
Samson: No. Well, I don't care if you want to.
Grimshaw: (whispering)
Samson: No. There is no such thing as a urine bank.
Grimshaw: Please.
Samson: No. We have no call for it. We've quite enough of it without volunteers coming in here donating it.
Grimshaw: Just a specimen?
Samson: No. We don't want a specimen. We either want your blood or nothing.
Grimshaw: I'll give you some blood if you'll give me...
Samson: What?
Grimshaw: ...a thing to do some urine in.
Samson: No, no. Just go away, please.
Grimshaw: Anyway, I don't want to give you any blood.
Samson: Fine. Well, you don't have to, you see. Just go away.
Grimshaw: Can I give you some spit?
Samson: No.
Grimshaw: Sweat?
Samson: No.
Grimshaw: Ear wax?
Samson: No. Look, this is a blood bank. All we want is blood.
Grimshaw: All right. I'll give you some blood.
Samson: Where did you get that?
Grimshaw: Today. It's today's.
Samson: What group is it?
Grimshaw: What groups are there?
Samson: There's 'A',--
Grimshaw: It's 'A'.
Samson: (sniff) Wait a moment. It's mine. This blood is mine! What are you doing with it?
Grimshaw: I found it.
Samson: You found it?! You stole it out of my body, didn't you?
Grimshaw: No.
Samson: No wonder I'm feeling off-colour. (drinks from bottle) Give that back!
Grimshaw: It's mine.
Samson: It's not yours. You stole it.
Grimshaw: Never.
Samson: Give it back to me.
Grimshaw: All right, but only if I can give urine.
Samson: Get in the queue...
******************************************
The Death of Mary Queen of Scots
Radio Announcer: (John Cleese) And that concludes this weeks episode of 'How to Recognize Different Parts of the Body' adapted for radio by Ann Hayden-Jones and her husband Piff. And now we present the first episode of a new radio drama series, 'The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots.' Part One: The Beginning.
(Music)
Man's voice: You are 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)
Announcer: Episode Two of 'The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots', can be heard on Radio Four...almost immediately.
(music then 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. Then music fades up and out)
Announcer: That was episode two of 'The Death of Mary, Queen of Scots', adapted for the radio by Bernard Holliwood and Brian London. And now, Radio Four will explode.
(Music and then the radio explodes.)
(Two old women are sitting on the couch listening to the radio when it explodes. One looks at the other.)
First Pepperpot (Graham Chapman): We'll have to watch the Telly then!
Second Pepperpot (John Cleese): Yes. (sound of agreement)
(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.)
First Pepperpot: Well, what's on the telly-vision then?
(pause)
Second Pepperpot: (matter-of-factly) Looks like a penguin.
(pause)
First Pepperpot: No no no no! I didn't mean what's on the telly-vision set. I meant what program?
Second Pepperpot: Oh
Both Pepperpots: (singing, mumbled) I dream of Jeannie with the light brown hair.
Second Pepperpot: Funny that penguin being there, isn't it?
First Pepperpot: What's it doin' there?
Second Pepperpot: Standin'!
First Pepperpot: I can see that!
(pause)
First Pepperpot: If it lays an egg, it will fall down the back of the telly-vision set.
Second Pepperpot: We'll have to watch that.
First Pepperpot: Mmmmmm
Second Pepperpot: Unless it's a male.
First Pepperpot: Ooh, I never thought of that.
Second Pepperpot: Yes. It looks fairly butch.
(pause)
First Pepperpot: Per'aps it comes from next door.
Second Pepperpot: (yelling) Penguins don't come from NEXT DOOR! They come from the Antarctic!
First Pepperpot: (yet louder) BURMA!!!
(They both stop short, looking around)
Second Pepperpot: Why'd'j say Burma?
First Pepperpot: I panicked.
Second Pepperpot: Oh.
(Pause)
Second Pepperpot: Per'aps it's from the zoo.
First Pepperpot: Which zoo?
Second Pepperpot: (angrily) 'ow should I know which zoo?!? I'm not Doctor bloody Bernofsky!!
First Pepperpot: 'Ow does Doctor bloody Bernofsky know which zoo it came from?
Second Pepperpot: He knows everything.
First Pepperpot: Oooh, I wouldn't like that, that'd take all the mystery out of life.
(pause)
First Pepperpot: Anyway, if it came from the zoo, it'd have 'property of the zoo' stamped on it.
Second Pepperpot: No it wouldn't! They don't stamp animals 'property of the zoo'!! You couldn't stamp a huge lion!!
First Pepperpot: (confidently) They stamp them when they're small.
Second Pepperpot: (snapping back) What happens when they moult?
First Pepperpot: Lions don't moult.
Second Pepperpot: No, but penguins do. THERE! I've run rings around you logically.
First Pepperpot: (looks at the camera) OOOOH! INTERCOURSE THE PENGUIN!!!
(The television warms up: a man is sitting behind a news desk)
Man: (Terry Jones) Hello! Well, it's just after eight o'clock, and time for the penguin on top of your television set to explode.
(The penguin explodes)
First Pepperpot: 'Ow did 'e know that was going to happen?!
Man: It was an inspired guess. And now...
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