THE THING ON THE MOUNTAINSeries 8, number 15

Transcribed from the Transcription Services Series version.

Greenslade: This is the BBC.

Seagoon: I do not wish to know that! Kindly leave the country. ????????? was a coward.

Greenslade: Listen. How dare you interrupt me while I am providing vital information to the

ignorant masses.

Seagoon: What, what, what, what, what, what, what?

Greenslade: And speaking of ignorant masses, how are you, Seagoon?

Seagoon: (chicken sounds)

F.X.: (sound of iron bar hitting head)

Greenslade: Or, in plain English, the all-leather Goon Show.

Orch: (trumpet fanfare)

Greenslade: We present, based on an original wall-paper by J. Philpott-Brim and adapted for

washing machine by Sir Peers Bladdock, the story of Ö

Milligan: (in a quivering voice) .. the Thing on the Mountain. Oooh.

Orch: (trumpet calls, followed by chords)

"Sexy" voice: Our story opens at the bottom of the great Mount Snowdon in the little village of

Llandehoy (?? Spelling Ė my Welsh is non-existent). Here, one bitter night, in the village hall, the choral society was engaged in that most famous of Welsh past-times.

F.X.: (sound of drink being poured into a glass)

Omnes: (unintelligible ramblings)

Voice: Mr. Worshipful Mayor, permission to speak.

Mayor: Yes.

Voice: (Welsh words?) passed by (more Welsh words?), boy.

Mayor: Oh dear, dear, dear, dear.

Voice: Cheer up, Dai the Bread. Have another glass of leek tea.

Mayor: Oh, no more for me, boy. Itíll keep me awake all the night, you know.

"Sexy" voice: All of a sudden, running down the mountain, came a wild-eyed, terror-stricken

mad-man.

F.X.: (sound of running feet approaching, and Seagoonís voice "aaaaaaaaaagh")

"Sexy" voice: .. he said. I recognized the voice. It was me.

Spriggs: Ah, listen, Jim. (sings) Listen, Jim. What was that, Jim?

F.X.: (door bursts open)

Another voice: Ah, boy, boy. Iím sorry. It was terrible. Aw, it was a terrible thing.

Look you! Ooooh, ooooh. (falls to the ground)

Mayor: Itís Dai the Hair.

Spriggs: Quick, force this iced tea between his teeth.

Mayor: Whatís happened, Dai, bach (pronounced "bark").

Dai the Hair: Oh, bach, I was up the mountain doing a bit of courting Ö

Mayor: Courting on the mountain? Thatís no place to take a girl, man.

Dai the Hair: Oh, I havenít got a girl.

Mayor: Then why did you go up by yourself, then?

Dai the Hair: Well, I didnít want to be up there alone, you see.

Milligan: Heís got a head on his shoulders, you know.

Mayor: Ah, pity itís facing the wrong way, isnít it?

Dai the Hair: And suddenly, through the mist and the snow, I saw this terrible thing walking

towards me ..

Mayor: Go on, bach.

Dai the Hair: Then it gave a terrible cry.

Mayor: Did it, bach?

Dai the Hair: No, it didnít bark, it sort of Ďowled. It went (chicken-like sounds), psssst.

Mayor: Boys, as Mayor of Llandehoy, and President of the singing and burial club, I say

we must get rid of this monster.

Dai the Hair: Right, Dai the short arm (?hand). Iíll take down this poster.

Throat: Right.

F.X.: (ripping sound)

Mayor: Put up another one saying "Five pounds reward for the capture of the Snowdon

monster".

Throat: Right.

Seagoon: Iíve called about your poster.

Mayor: How did you know about it?

Seagoon: I was listening to your program.

Mayor: This program is a recording.

Seagoon: I was listening to it on my gramophone. Hup.

Orch: (chords)

Spriggs: Oooh. What are your qualifications for mountain-climbing, Jim? (sings) What

are your qualifications Ö (fades) .. Oooh, that hurts, Jim!

Seagoon: Gentlemen, I hold a gold medal for fish scaling, I was the first man to ski across

the Albert Memorial, I wear size 9 boots, and my grandmother keeps a duck farm in Kent.

Spriggs: Oooh. The very man!

Orch: (chords)

Greenslade: Meanwhile, not far away, in a small Welsh pig sty, it is feeding time.

F.X.: (pig feeding sounds)

Grytpype-Thynne: Moriarty! Manners, manners!

Moriarty: Ah, but the food, the food, Grytpype. The food Ö (fades) Owww.

 

Grytpype-Thynne: Moriarty, donít you know when eating pig swill out of a trough, always

take your hat off.

Moriarty: Owww (etc).

Grytpype-Thynne: Donít point your "owww" at me, you fool! It might be loaded.

Moriarty: But, Grytpype, these tiny little pigs, they keep biting me. I donít look like a pig.. I

donít sound like a pig ..Iím not a pig.

Grytpype-Thynne: There are other means of identifying a pig, you know. Now, pass the

finger bowl, would you? (pause) You greedy swine, youíve eaten the last finger!

Moriarty: Aaagh.

Seagoon: Iíd climb the hairy mountain for you, Iíd fight the very trousers .. oops! I didnít

know you were having dinner.

Grytpype-Thynne: Well, thatís quite alright, my dear sir. Would you care to join us? Pull up

a pig.

Seagoon: Thank you. My host was impeccably turned out in a stove-pipe hat, and a dark

grey stove.

Grytpype-Thynne: Yes, thatís where I keep my dinner. And this bucket of pig swill contains

the head of none other than Count Jim "Steam" (Moriarty - phssssh) Moriarty, inventor of the brown boot and first man to go three weeks without stopping.

Moriarty: Owww. Je suis tres charming. Phsssht-tooo.

Grytpype-Thynne: Tell me, little round sir. What are you doing here?

Seagoon: Nothing.

Grytpype-Thynne: Good, good, itís not our style, you know.

Seagoon: Well, actually, Iím going to climb Snowdon to capture the monster for the reward.

Moriarty: Aaagh. Reward!. Ah, money, moolah, Ö

Grytpype-Thynne: Quiet, you rotting heap! Iíll do the talking.

Moriarty: And Iíll do the steaming. Iím wearing the sock. Phsssht-tooo.

Grytpype-Thynne: Now, what you need, Neddie, is our "Snowmaster" complete

mountaineering kit for only fifty shillings, marked down to three pounds.

Seagoon: Iíll take it.

F.X.: (cash register)

Grytpype-Thynne: I thank you. I thank you. Now, Neddie, all you need to climb Snowdon is

a long ladder.

Seagoon: Of course. Where is it?

Grytpype-Thynne: On the fire engine.

Seagoon: How do I get the fire engine?

Grytpype-Thynne: You start a fire. Here then is the "Snowmaster" mountaineering kit Ė one

box of matches. Right, Moriarty, shall we go?

Seagoon: Why has he run away?

Grytpype-Thynne: Because, lad, here comes Max "Barefoot" Geldray to play his hot

underwear.

(Geldray and orchestra)

Greenslade: Now, if any listener would care to tie a vintage haddock to the third finger of his

left hand, and swing it round his head, heíll be able to hear The Thing on the Mountain, part 2.

Orch: (trumpet chords)

Orch: (chords)

Welsh announcer: Equipped with his mountaineering kit of one box of matches, Seagoon

began to search the lower slopes of Snowdon.

Seagoon: Yes, folks! Yes, folks! I was looking for a place to set fire to. Suddenly, I saw

before me a small ragged tent made from sacking. Inside was a heap of rags and old clothes. Hello, folks! The very thing! Pardon me.

F.X.: (sound of match being struck)

Seagoon: Ahaha, what a lovely blaze!

Bloodnok: Owwwwwww! Look at me trousers! Oh! Oh!

Seagoon: Hello, folks! A smoking figure rushed past me and hurriedly sat down in a bucket

of water.

F.X.: (sound of steam hissing)

Bloodnok: Oh, thatís better!

Seagoon: I didnít realize that these old clothes were alive.

Bloodnok: So you set fire to my trousers! You.. you.. you.. you dangerous military clown,

you! You might have ruined my chances of the All-England leg final.

Seagoon: But, wait! Youíre Major Bloodnok. Ahaha, you remember me.

Bloodnok: Do I?

Seagoon: Of course, Iím the man who set fire to your trousers.

Bloodnok: Gad, yes. I knew weíd met before.

Seagoon: Aha.

Bloodnok: Yes, Iíve come to Snowdon for the skiing [pronounced as ĎskÖí], you know.

Seagoon: You mean "skiing" [pronounced as "shÖ"] ?

Bloodnok: Yes, that as well.

Eccles: (mumbles) .. I got dat .. (mumbles). Oh, hullo!

Seagoon: Whoís this?

Bloodnok: Itís alright. He .. he comes here every day for a swim.

Seagoon: Yes, but thereís no water here.

Eccles: Thatís okay, I canít swim. I .. I never had a chance to learn.

Seagoon: Why not?

Eccles: Well, thereís no water here. You canít swim without water, man. Who is this

idiot?

Bloodnok: You.

Eccles: Oooh.

Seagoon: Thank you, (undecypherable). Iím the man who is going to climb Snowdon and

capture the monster.

Bloodnok: What?

Eccles: What?

Bloodnok: Then youíre talking to the right man.

Seagoon: Who?

Bloodnok: Me.

Eccles: Me.

Bloodnok: Havenít you seen my nameplate? Iíll show you.

Seagoon: So saying, he bent down. The brass plate on the seat of his hat said "Major

Bloodnok, mountaineering expert". To prove it, here is a brass plate reading it.

Greenslade: "Major Bloodnok, mountaineering expert", and I should like to point out that the

part of the brass nameplate was played by Ö

Seagoon: Shut up!

Bloodnok: For a small fee of every penny you possess, I can get you up to the top of

Snowdon in 2 seconds with my giant "spon" catapult.

Seagoon: Done!

F.X.: (cash register)

Bloodnok: I thank you. This way.

Seagoon: He led me to where fifty pairs of braces were tied together between two trees.

Bloodnok: Right, Eccles, help me pull these braces back.

F.X.: (straining sounds)

Bloodnok: Alright, Neddie? Neddie, lean back. Now, Eccles, let go!

F.X.: (sproing, then whistling through the air, then crash)

Seagoon: Aaaaagh! Ow! Now, whereís my speaking trumpet? (sound of speaking trumpet

landing on Seagoonís head) Aaagh! Here it is. Hello, folks. Calling those kindly folks. Well, here I am, folks, on top of Snowdon, folks. Acting now .. ohohoho, whatís this? The monster, the Thing on the Mountain?

Attendent (sounds like Crun with a Lancashire accent!):

Silly! North Country mountain? This is the top of Blackpool Tower!

Seagoon: Curses, foiled by double-strength braces!

Attendent: Can I see your ticket?

Seagoon: I havenít got one.

Attendent: You canít come up Blackpool Tower wiíout a ticket.

Seagoon: Well, where can I buy one?

Attendent: At the bottom.

Seagoon: Iíll go down and get one.

Attendent: You canít go down wiíout a ticket.

Seagoon: What am I supposed to do, jump off?

Attendent: You canít jump off wiíout a ticket.

Seagoon: Oh, folks, trapped on the top of Blackpool Tower.

Attendent: .. wiíout a ticket.

Seagoon: Yes, without a ticket.

Attendent: (unintelligible)

Moriarty: Pssst! Neddie, little Neddie!

Seagoon: The voice came from a rope ladder suspended from a horse-hair Zeppelin above

me.

Moriarty: Owww. Climb aboard, Neddie.

Greenslade: With light heart and heavy trousers, Seagoon climbed aboard and soon the mighty

Zeppelin was speeding towards the Welsh coast.

Moriarty: All fares, please. All fares. I thank you. Any more fares? Lor, love a duck, mate.

Cor blimey. All fares, mate.

Seagoon: Top of Snowdon, please.

Moriarty: Are you under 14?

Seagoon: Yes, Iím 13 stone 8.

Moriarty: Ninepence, please.

F.X.: (cash register)

Seagoon: Ninepence? I havenít got any money.

Grytpype-Thynne: Sorry, Neddie. Then youíre in the wrong compartment. Non-paying

passengers through that door.

Seagoon: Right.

F.X.: (door opens)

Seagoon: Aaaaaaaaaaaagh! (ends in splash)

Little Jim: Heís fallen in the water.

Grytpype-Thynne: Thank you, Little Jim! Now, get back in the barrel and make room for Ray

"Bones" Ellington and his melody minstrels.

(Ellington and quartet Ė "Long black nylons..")

Orch: (chords)

Welsh announcer: And so, the snow and the blizzards on Snowdon grew worse, and every

night the terror-stricken villagers padlocked their wives as they heard the distant cry of the Thing on the Mountain.

Orch: (trumpet chords)

F.X.: (sound of gales)

Seagoon: Hello, folks. How can I reach the summit of the dreaded Snowdon, and capture

the five pound monster?

Greenslade: Mister Seagoon, Ö

Seagoon: How can I possibly climb this impregnable mass of rock and snow?

Greenslade: Mister Seagoon, why donít you go by train?

Seagoon: Train?

Greenslade: Yes, thereís a mountain railway that runs up Snowdon.

Seagoon: What! But how will I get back?

Greenslade: The train runs down again.

Seagoon: Aha, gad. Saved by steam!

Orch: (chords)

Chinese voice: So, Neddie a-Seagoon went to little railway station at foot of honourable

foot of a-mountain. Oh, boy!

Willium: What do you want, then, bach? Look you, mate.

Seagoon: Third return to the top of Snowdon.

Willium: Right-oh, bach, mate.

Seagoon: What timeís the next train?

Willium: Three fifteen April.

Seagoon: What? Itís only ten past one January!

Willium: We canít run trains up in January, mate. Thereís blizzards and nine feet of snow

up there. Youíll have to wait Ďtil April.

Welsh announcer: And so, Seagoon waited until April when there were blizzards and eleven

feet of snow.

F.X.: (steam hissing)

Railway announcer (Greenslade):

The train now standing on the platform is for the top of Snowdon, calling at a

quarter of the way up, half way up, and three quarters of the way up.

Seagoon: Hooray! My train at last!

F.X.: (door closes)

Grytpype-Thynne: Moriarty, have you got the bomb?

Moriarty: Sapristi, gadabagoza! Yes, the bomb. Yes.

Grytpype-Thynne: Then slip it into the tender with the coal.

Moriarty: Owwww.

F.X.: (train whistle)

Willium: All aboard!

F.X.: (train whistle, then train chugs off)

Greenslade: And so, as the train chugs slowly up the side of the mountain, we find in the

engine, the driver and fireman hard at work.

F.X.: (train whistle)

Eccles: Oooh, this is living!

Bluebottle: Do you know something, my good man?

Eccles: Oooh, oooh.

Bluebottle: I have always wanted to be an engine driver.

Eccles: Oooh, oooh. And Iíve always wanted to be the village idiot.

Bluebottle: Then weíve both succeeded!

Eccles: Ow, no, ow-wow. Iím not the village idiot.

Bluebottle: No?

Eccles: No, but when he retires, my nameís top of the list.

Bluebottle: He he.

Eccles: Oh, this is living. I love it.

F.X.: (chugs slowing down)

Bluebottle: Here, weíre stopping! You stupid nit, my good man, Eccles! Hahaha, the fireís

going out!

Eccles: Oooh, Iíll put some more coal on. (shovels and sings) Oh, ho ho, oh.

Bluebottle: What?

Eccles: Ooh, oho. Here, this is a funny-looking piece of coal. It says B-O-M-B (gurgled

pronunciation)

Bluebottle: B-O-M-B? That stands for Best Ordinary Mixed Black. Itís special strong coal.

Eccles: Oh, good. Iíll throw it on the fire.

F.X.: (chugs, then explosion, then train races)

Eccles: You were right! That coal was strong! Oh, yeah.

F.X.: (sound of crash)

Eccles: All change!

F.X.: (hissing of steam)

Seagoon: Thatís all right, folks. Weíre all ready. Hello, folks. Now to capture the Ö

Wait, wait. Oh, whatís that?

Welsh announcer: At the top of the mountain, half buried in the snow, was a wooden shack

labelled "Teas. Hot meals all day."

Min: (mumbling) .. naughty black nylon stockings Ö

Min and Crun: ("sinful" singing)

Crun: Min, Min, Min! Min, Min, modern Min! Modern Min! Itís the elephantsí

feeding time!

Min: Toooo!

Crun: Go out the window and call them in.

Min: Buddy, whereís my bugle?

Crun: Itís in the bed.

Min: Oh, yes, Iíll go and call the elephants in.

F.X.: (door opens, followed by sound of gales)

Crun: Now, we should be getting some more customers soon. Iíd better lay the table.

Now, letís see. Herbal salt, dandelion pepper, er hmmm, Indian brandy, senapod vinegar, Ö

F.X.: (door opens, gales, door closes)

Seagoon: Good evening.

Crun: Oooh, hereís the menu.

Seagoon: Let me see, now. Pshshtooo. Elephantsí eggs, elephantsí eggs, elephantsí eggs,

elephantsí eggs, elephantsí eggs, elephantsí eggs. Hmmm. Um. I think Iíll have some elephantsí eggs.

Crun: Elephantsí eggs are off, sir. Theyíve gone off Ö pong!

Seagoon: What about some Pshshtooo?

Crun: Theyíre not laying, you know.

Seagoon: Elephants not laying?

Crun: No, theyíve not laid since we bought them, you know.

Seagoon: Oh, very well. Iíll have Ö

Orch: (trumpet sounds)

Seagoon: Listen! The monster! I must go to catch it at once!

F.X.: (door opens, gales, door closes)

Crun: Whatís he talking about.. the monster?

F.X.: (door opens, gales)

Min: Oh, oh, dear. Itís the cost (?) of a knee out there, you know.

Crun: Come on in, all of you.

Min: Thank you, Henry. Iíve got the dreaded pong thing on my legs. Come on, you

naughty elephants.

F.X.: (chicken sounds)

Min: Come on!

F.X.: (door opens, gales, door closes)

Seagoon: Curses! I was too late!

Min: Donít tread on the elephants!

F.X.: (chicken sounds)

Seagoon: Elephants? These are chickens.

Crun: No wonder they wouldnít lay!

Min:L Oooh.

Crun: Curse, then! Curse, then! There, did you catch the modern monster?

Seagoon: No, it was modern gone. But I found some huge footprints and I followed them

back here.

Min: Oh! Oh!

Crun: Pow! Pow!

Seagoon: Stop "pshshtoooing" at once! The monster is hiding Ö (laughs)Ö the monster is

hiding somewhere in this building.

Crun: Then we must search for it.

F.X.: (door opens)

Seagoon: Not in here.

F.X.: (door opens)

Min: Not in here.

F.X.: (door opens)

Crun: Ah, not in here.

Seagoon: Not under there.

Min: Thank heavens for that. Heís not in here.

Crun: Not in here.

F.X.: (several more "not in here"s, speeded up)

Greenslade: Where is the Snowdon monster? Personally, I think it is all I the mind, you know.

Orch: (roll-out music)

Announcer: That was the Goon Show, a BBC recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry

Secombe, and Spike Milligan, with the Ray Ellington quartet, Max Geldray and the orchestra conducted by Wally Stott. Script by Larry Stephens and Maurice Wiltshire. Announcer Wallace Greenslade. The program produced by Tom Ronald.

Orchestra: (music playout).