The Moriarty Murder Mystery

Series 8, episode 17

First broadcast 20/01/1958

Transcribed by Stratford

 

Alright, this is my first try at a Goon show transcript, so please help me out here if you can :) Now, all the words I simply couldn't understand I've marked in red, and I've tried to write what they sounds like or I've just written (mutters) (if anyone can shed any light on the Bluebottle-Eccles dialogue I'd be most grateful). Suggested corrections are in green. Furthermore, I was very puzzled to find Milligan is not credited as a script writer in the end. Did he really not write this?

 

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GREENSLADE: This is the BBC Light Programme. Here is a game you can all play. Take an ordinary piece of paper and make a small hole in it - thus. Place your eye to the hole and look through. If other members of the family will do the same, you can then gaze at each other. In this way you can all enjoy hours of innocent boredom.

SEAGOON: Wal, big fat Wal. A likely story. Now leap onto that blazing bed when I say, hello folks! Itís me!

GRAMS: ENTHUSIASTIC CHEERING

SEAGOON: Thank you! Thank you! Seagoon fans, thank you.

GREENSLADE: Err listeners, once again I inform you that that was only recorded applause.

SECOMBE: (Raspberry)

GREENSLADE: Anybody can do it, Iíll show you. Hello folks! Itís me!

GRAMS/OMNES: BOOING, RASPBERRIES, LAUGHING

SEAGOON: All of which brings us to the all-leather Goon show!

FX: BUBBLES BLOWN IN A GLASS OF LIQUID WITH A STRAW

MILLIGAN: Tonight, the Moriarty Murder Mystery.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK

GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP

SEAGOON: New Scotland Ying? Inspector Seagoon here.

CHAP (SELLERS) (distort): Listen inspector, listen! (Panting) Do you want to know who the Mauve Raven is?

SEAGOON: Yes!

CHAP: Itís...

FX: GUNSHOT

CHAP: Aaaaagh!!

OíSHEA: Harh. Who was it sir?

SEAGOON: Chap reporting a murder, constable.

OíSHEA: Murder sir? Whose murder? Whasrfrss...

SEAGOON: He didnít say.

GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP

SEAGOON: Helloo? Inspector Seagoon here.

MUMBLER (MILLIGAN): (Distort, incoherent mumbling) -- if I -- (clears throat, more mumbling) See?

SEAGOON: Iíll be right over!

GRAMS: TELEPHONE PUT DOWN, ALARM SOUNDING TWICE, CAR TYRES SCREECHING

SEAGOON: Sergeant (???) OíShea, surround the dustbin!

FX: WHISTLE

OíSHEA: Iím sorry sir, itís knocking off time.

SEAGOON: Curses! Foiled by knocking off time. Ah well, see you here nine oíclock tomorrow.

OíSHEA: Right sir.

FX: BASS DRUM, WHISTLE

SEAGOON: Morning, OíShea!

OíSHEA: Morning sir!

SEAGOON: Right. Now letís see whatís in this dustbin.

GRAMS: DUSTBIN LID REMOVED

SEAGOON: (Hysterical, nervous laugh)

OíSHEA: Steady sir.

SEAGOON: A body! The police should hear about this.

OíSHEA: We are the police sir.

SEAGOON: What? Oh, we got here quickly didnít we? (Laughs)

WILLIUM (weak): ĎEllo, Ďello.

SEAGOON: What is it, OíShea?

OíSHEA: I never spoke sir! It must be the... the body!

SEAGOON: What? Did you speak?

WILLIUM: Yes mate.

SEAGOON: Now, play the game, donít mess about. Either youíre a corpse or youíre not!

WILLIUM: I was, but Iím much better now, thank you.

SEAGOON: Donít tell me you live in that dustbin?

WILLIUM: Fícourse I donít live Ďere mate! I just popped in to see my old matey.

SEAGOON: Where is he, mate?

WILLIUM: Downstairs he is mate. I only come up here to answer the lid. Ainít that right, Charlie?

THROAT (MILLIGAN) (echo): Yes.

GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP

WILLIUM: ĎEllo? ĎAng on, itís for you.

SEAGOON: Thanks. Hello?

GREENSLADE (distort): Inspector Seagoon? Chief commissioner Scotland Yard to speak to you. Click, buzz.

SPRIGGS: Hello Jim! Hello Jee-eeym? Hello Jim. I canít hear you, Jim. Jim, Jim. Hello-hello. Chig-chig-chig-chig. Hello Jim. Jim, is that you? Hello Jeeym. Jim-Jim-Jim? Hello? Hello-hello-hello-hello... There must be something wrong with the line Jim.

SEAGOON: Seagoon speaking.

SPRIGGS: Ah, now I can hear you! What did you do Jim?

SEAGOON: I spoke.

SPRIGGS: Then there is something wrong with the line! When you donít speak I canít hear you. Come in to my office Jim.

SEAGOON: Right sir!

GRAMS: TELEPHONE PUT DOWN

SPRIGGS: (Nasal sound, over following)

GRAMS: DOOR OPENING

SPRIGGS: Come in Jim. Pull up a helmet, if itís not spiked. Now... Now then, youíve been with the police for, youíve been with the police foooor... Twenty years?

SEAGOON: Yes sir.

SPRIGGS: Silence! Si-Silence Jim, when you speak to me. Silence when you speak to me! Did you find the murdered body and solve it? Hu-uuh? Hu-uuh? You will receive the size fourteen boot!

SEAGOON: Oh no, sir! Not that! Sir, please! (Sobbing) Not that! Not the - ! (sobbing uncontrollably dissolving to strange sounds)

SPRIGGS: I tell you this is no laughing matter Jim! Very well, Iíll give you twenty-four hours or one day, whichever is the wider by far! Whichever is the wider by faa-eeeh...

ORCHESTRA: LINK MUSIC

GREENSLADE: Meanwhile in Shortage High Street...

GRAMS: FAINT CAR MOTOR

FX: BANJO AND SPOONS

GRYTPYPE (singing): Whoís lovable and whoís kissable? Miss Annabelle Lee...

MORIARTY: Owww...

GRYTPYPE (singing): Whoís wonderful and whoís...

BOTH (singing): Marvellous? Miss Annabelle Lee.

FX: COIN IN TIN CUP

MORIARTY: Oooouugh! Ooh-ho!... Thank you! thank you, lady...

GRYTPYPE: Give me that hapenny at once, Iím wearing the pocket.

MORIARTY: Ow! But Grytpype, Iím the master of the spoon! Give it to me!

GRYTPYPE: Hand over, you blackened wreck or Iíll set fire to your string wig!

MORIARTY: Aeough! No, no...Eoghh...

GRYTPYPE: Thatís better. Now then...

FX: SPOON CLICKING

MORIARTY: Eoughh. (Singing) Whoís wonderful... Marvelous... Miss Annabelle Lee (whistling)

GRYTPYPE: Shut up, you unmusical steamer you.

MORIARTY: Unmusical? Me?

GRYPYPE: Yes.

MORIARTY: Sapristi longala dongala hellava dongala!

GRYTPYPE: Whatís that?

MORIARTY: Longala dongala I tell you! I have trodden in the steps of the masters!

GRYTPYPE: Youíve trodden in something.

MORIARTY: What?!

GRYTPYPE: Now letís see how much weíve taken.

MORIARTY (singing): Marvellous... Oh, money?

GRYTPYPE: One hapenny... (muttering) --of newspaper--one penny. (Aloud) One penny.

MORIARTY: One penny?

GRYTPYPE: Yes.

MORIARTY: Let's live! Whoooaw! Whohohoho-oww!

GRYPTYPE: Put it away! Waving your Ďowwwí about like that... Sssh! Look at that!

MORIARTY: What? (incoherent sentence) (Laughs)

GRYTPYPE: Itís a police inspector standing in a tobacconistís window with a postcard pinned to him. What does it say?

MORIARTY: "Amateur photographer needs a beautiful model to -"

GRYTPYPE: No, no, not that police inspector. The one next to him.

MORIARTY: Haah! One pound in cash or Sterling offered for the body of a murder victim!

GRYTPYPE: Well read, Moriarty! We are about to cop some lob.

MORIARTY: But where can we get the body?

GRYTPYPE: Quick, stick this imitation bullet-hole on your forehead.

MORIARTY: Right!

FX: SOUND OF A LIGHT SLAP

GRYTPYPE: Fall down in the gutter and close your eyes.

MORIARTY: Oowww...

GRYTPYPE (off mike): I say! Mister little round copper!

SEAGOON (off mike): What-what-what-what-what-what-what-what?

GRYTPYPE (on mike): May I introduce you to the body of Count Jim "Toes"...

MORIARTY: Brrrl!

GRYTPYPE: ...Moriarty. Only man to have shot a telephone directory in flight and twice world cheese dancer.

SEAGOON: Iíll take him!

GRAMS: CASH MACHINE REGISTER, COIN ON HARD SURFACE

GRYTPYPE: I thank you.

SEAGOON: Now why is this body lying down?

GRYTPYPE: Heís been murdered.

SEAGOON: Badly?

GRYTPYPE: No very well, heís dead.

SEAGOON: Hold on a minute. What? A fake bullet-hole? What does this mean?

GRYTPYPE: He was murdered by a fake bullet.

SEAGOON: Gad, what a hellish way to die! Did you see his assailant?

GRYTPYPE: No, he had his coat buttoned up. But the murderer was a fuel man with a ling hat and faglo boots. And...

SEAGOON: Yes?

GRYTPYPE: He went that-a way.

SEAGOON: After him! After him! After hiim! After hiiiim!

MORIARTY: Ah, that little hairy man! That got rid of him Grytpype, that got rid of him!

GRYTPYPE: Yes. (Laughs) Now letís get out of here because here comes Max "Overcoat" Geldray to blow up his Dutch sleeves.

MORIARTY: Phistoo!

INTERVAL: MAX & ORCHESTRA: "Once in love with Amy".

(applause)

GREENSLADE: To The Moriarty Murder Mystery...

MILLIGAN: (Nasal sound)

GREENSLADE: ...Part two.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK

GRAMS: SPEEDED UP RUNNING FADING IN AND OUT

SELLERS: Seagoon ran on and on. By nightfall he found himself in Chinatown amongst the almond-eyed devotees of the the poppy. And here and there, a pop-eyed devotee of the almond.

CHINESE (MILLIGAN): (Long-drawn Chinese gibberish)

FX: GUN SHOT

CHINESE: (Hurried, stressful Chinese gibberish)

GREENSLADE: Finally Seagoon paused in a darkened alley near the docks.

GRAMS: SHIP SIRENS

SEAGOON: Gad! Wonder where I am!

GRAMS: SLOWLY APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS

SEAGOON: What-what-what-what-what-what-what? Whoís that?

UNDERTAKER: Whoís there?

SEAGOON: Iím a policeman.

UNDERTAKER: And Iím an undertaker.

SEAGOON: (Gulp) Are you... looking for somebody?

UNDERTAKER: Yes. You.

SEAGOON: But I... (Garbles) Iím not dead! You, you canít bury people who arenít dead, itís impossible!

UNDERTAKER: Not (intake of breath) impossible. But we should certainly have to box exceeding (sneer) clever.

SEAGOON: Well, I, ah... (Laughs nervously) Iíve got to go!

UNDERTAKER: In the end havenít we all?...My card. But first, inspector, in your job I suppose you must stumble across the odd body? Hm? Hm?

SEAGOON: Yes.

UNDERTAKER: My business is falling off, you know and...

SEAGOON: (Snickers) You mean people donít want their unders taken anymore?

UNDERTAKER: Youíve hit the nail right into the lid. Therefore I will pay you five pounds for every body you push my way.

SEAGOON: Certainly, I've got one already. Itís ah -

GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP

SEAGOON: Yes?

SINGHIZ (distort): Seagoon, listen. The murder of, murder of Count Moriarty reported. Good heavens man, the body has vanished, oh heavens man!

SEAGOON: What?

FX: TELEPHONE PUT DOWN

UNDERTAKER: Vanished?

SEAGOON: Donít worry, Iíll find it!

UNDERTAKER: Good, I have a short contract here, just sign at the bottom of page (intake of breath) four hundred and ten...

SEAGOON: Right!

FX: PEN SCRATCHING

SEAGOON: There! Oh folks, oh folks! My first! Iíll be rich! (fades out)

GRAMS: SPED UP RUNNING, FADES OUT

UNDERTAKER: (Laughs)

ORCHESTRA: OMNIOUS MUSIC LINK

SEAGOON: Hullo folks! Hullo folks again! I lost my megaphone that time. Iím not only looking for a murderer but for a body folks! To solve this case, folks, I must have some clues, folks, but wait, folks! Whatís this poster on the wall folks?

CRUN: Crun and Company Limited. Licensed clue manufacturers. Now wash your hands.

SEAGOON: It says here in small print.

ORCHESTRA: ĎTO ACTIONí MUSIC LINK

FX: XYLOPHONE PLINKING, CONTINUES FOR 12 SECONDS

CRUN: Itís no good, Min. I shall never learn to play the exylophone.

MIN: Oooh... Alright modern buddy, let me try.

CRUN: Hear, hear.

FX: XYLOPHONE

MIN (singing): Yam-pam-pam, pam-pam-pampam...(etc., increases in speed)

CRUN: Modern Min... Modern Min! Stop that modern leaping Min!

MIN: I canít help it buddy. I got the spring in my knees. Pwaaooh!!

FX: BOINGS, OVER:

MIN: (Continues shrieking)

CRUN: Stop it, you drunken old fool!

MIN: Ahooow!!

FX: BOINGS CONTINUES

CRUN: Youíve been at the brass polish again!

FX: BOING, CRASH, DOOR OPENING

MIN: Oh dear... Iíve been taking too many of those Australian zoom pills, Henry.

CRUN: Thatíll teach you. You naughty Min...

MIN: Naughty Min...

CRUN: Now relax in this arm grammophone while I tell you a very funny joke. (Laughs to himself) I say to you, "Knocke-knock" and you say "Who is there?". Right?

MIN: Right, Henry!

CRUN: Knock... Knock.

MIN: Thereís someone at the door, Henry.

CRUN: That was me, Min! Modern Min...

MIN: I better go and let you in then. Come in, Henry!

CRUN: No, now look, look. You say "Knock knock" and Iíll say "Whoís there".

MIN: Alright, Henry... Knackedeknockeknack (etc.) Knock, knock! Knock!

CRUN: ĎScuse me, Min, thereís someone at the door.

GRAMS: DOOR OPENING

CRUN: Yes?

MIN: Oh, weíll be murdered in our beds! Phistoo, phistoo! Phistoo...

SEAGOON: Phistoo pie. ĎScuse me, Mister Crun, the clue manufacturer?

CRUN: Come in, and mind the dog.

SEAGOON: Dog? I say, what a lovely coat heís got!

CRUN: Yes, I knitted it myself.

GREENSLADE: Woof, woof.

SEAGOON: Saint Bernard.

CRUN: Yes.

SEAGOON: Now, I want to buy some murder clues.

CRUN: Brandy, you know. Now, what about our special mixed assortment. Here: One footprint, pointing North...

SEAGOON: Splendid.

CRUN: Good. One heavy brass candle stick...

SEAGOON: Whatís that for?

CRUN: Keeping a heavy brass candle. - And one porridge-stained knife.

SEAGOON: Porridge-stained?

CRUN: Yes, the victim was stabbed in the middle of breakfast, you know.

SEAGOON: Iíll take them. By the way, have you got an eyewitness in stock?

CRUN: An eyewitness? Well now, let me see...

FX: DRAWERS OPENING AND SHUTTING

CRUN: Where did I put him? Ah, here we are.

ECCLES: Aellough...

SEAGOON: So! Youíre the eyewitness?

ECCLES: Yup yup yup. Iím, Iím de, Iím the eyewitness.

SEAGOON: Did you see this murder?

ECCLES: No.

SEAGOON: Aha! Then you didnít see the man who committed it?

ECCLES: Yup. I didnít see the man who committed it.

SEAGOON: As I thought. Now, would you recognise him if you didnít see him again?

ECCLES: Er... Ough. Something funny here... I think so, but my eyes ainít what they used to be.

SEAGOON: No?

ECCLES: No, they used to be my ears! (Laughs)

SEAGOON: Well, we must get them tested. Whereís the nearest optician?

CRUN: Just round the bend. Iím going that way, Iíll take you.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK

GREENSLADE: Just around the bend was a small shop marked, "Eyes tested, wills altered, signatures carefully copied, and string repaired while you wait". Also, "Rare books, et cetera. Proprietor Major Bloodnok".

ORCHESTRA: BLOODNOK THEME

BLOODNOK: Oooohh, oh, oh! I mustíve been out of my mind! Red peppers in dynamite sauce? I must let my trousers out.

GRAMS: CLOTH RIPPING

BLOODNOK: Ooh, thatís better. Ahh, where was I? Ah yes, yes...

FX: PEN SCRATCHING UNDER:

BLOODNOK: "Dear headmaster. I enclose the three algebra books you requested. Yours sincerely, Dennis Bloodnok. P.S.: The middle one is hollowed out, and inside you will find our latest selection of photographs for art lovers, and fanciers of the human (hat?)".

FX: DOOR OPENING

SEAGOON: Good morning, Iím from the police.

BLOODNOK: Aooh! It wasnít me, I tell you, it wasnít! Sheís lying! The Granada Hotel, room two oh five, Iíve never heard of it! It must have been some other filthy swine!

SEAGOON: Major, Major, control your brown (~~~~)!

BLOODNOK: Iím trying to! I feel no pain!

SEAGOON: I wanted to test this manís eyes.

BLOODNOK: Certainly, certainly, certainly. Now, look here, you see that card on the wall?

ECCLES: Er... Yep, yep, yep.

BLOODNOK: Well... Read out as much as you can.

ECCLES: All them letters?

BLOODNOK: Yes, yes.

ECCLES: Okay. Um... (Strange sounds) "Snackopp. Esnaggoul. Nyakkanux... Alexedemyagganack...(etc.) Printed by J. Smith and Sons, Birmingham".

SEAGOON: Splendid! This manís eyes are perfect. Good enough to identify fifty yards Ray "Flat Top" Ellington and his four legs!

INTERVAL: RAY ELLINGTON AND QUARTET: "Stomp, look, listen"

(applause)

GREENSLADE: And now the Moriarty Murder Mystery, part three.

ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK

GREENSLADE: We rejoin Seagoon and Eccles, as they speed Northwards in a flying squad rickshaw.

SEAGOON: Now... What weíre looking for Eccles, is a fuel man wearing a ling hat and faglo boots.

OFFICER (distort): Hello-hello, calling all rickshaws, will Inspector Seagoon proceed to Hyde Park at once, suspicious-looking boot has been noticed loitering on the backs of the Serpentine, MP over.

SEAGOON: What-what-what-what? Rickshaw boy, faster! Faster!

CYRIL: Doing my best, but youíre getting fatter all the time!

SEAGOON: Shut up!

CYRIL: Shut you yourself, you cheeky bee!

ORCHESTRA: OMNIOUS MUSIC LINK

SEAGOON: There it is, Eccles! An ordinary brown boot! But wait! thereís a foot in it.

ECCLES: Yer, itís mine!

SEAGOON: Take it off.

ECCLES: Er, Iím only seeing if it fits. Itís a faglo boot.

SEAGOON: How do you know?

ECCLES: I got faglo feet.

SEAGOON: Then youíre the very man to keep watch for the murderer when he returns for his right foot property, or his left-foot property, depending on which boot it is! Hup! (Laughs)

ORCHESTRA: PUNCHLINE FANFARE

GREENSLADE: And so as night falls on the Serpentine, we find Eccles and a special constable keeping watch in disguise.

GRAMS: WIND, CRICKETS CHIRPING

BLUEBOTTLE: Eccles, my good man?

ECCLES: Yer, mine ĎBottle?

BLUEBOTTLE: Tell me, my good man, how do you like being disguised as a lamp-post?

ECCLES: Oh, itís al- (clears throat) Itís alright, but I donít like that lamplighter fella.

BLUEBOTTLE: Why not?

ECCLES: Heís set fire to my nose three times. ĎEre Bottle, how do you like being disguised as a tree?

BLUEBOTTLE: Itís quite nice, then I had, what I had been disguised as a tree. Yes, it is nice...

ECCLES: (mutters incoherently)

BLUEBOTTLE (mutters): Yes...fine...it is nice...

ECCLES (mutters): ...it might been... (normal) I donít like trees.

BLUEBOTTLE: Donít you?

ECCLES: No, I donít like (breachiní?).

BLUEBOTTLE: (Snickers)

ECCLES: My uncle Tom was a lumberjack, and he was killed by a fallin' tree.

BLUEBOTTLE: What a shame!

ECCLES: And, and my uncle Dick, he was killed, he was killed by a fallin' tree as well. And my uncle Harry...

BLUEBOTTLE: Was he a lumberjack too?

ECCLES: Oh, no no. He died in bed.

BLUEBOTTLE: What happened?

ECCLES: A tree fell on him! (Laughs)

GRAMS: APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL

BLUEBOTTLE: Shh! Someone is coming! Leave him to me.

ECCLES (off mike): ...fine, you stand in front...

BLUEBOTTLE: Halt! Sir halt, sir Murderer! I arrest you in the name of the Lee! Takes out truncheon and reads instructions on label. "Blatt blam bash blin wham zowiee bling boing whing blatt"! It says here in small print.

SEAGOON: Silence little grubby constable or that high tide mark wonít be the only thing around your neck!

BLUEBOTTLE: Oh, it is my Captain! Salutes with truncheon, blatting self smartly on side of head, blan! Eeehoo!

ECCLES: Here, quiet! Shh, quiet! Someoneís cominí.

BLOODNOK (singing): The man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo...

ECCLES: He must have had a hammer.

BLOODNOK: Darling, darling, ah here you are!

SEAGOON: What-what-what? What are you doing here?

BLOODNOK: Ohohhh! Itís a lie! I left my Mackintosh here last night, thatís all, I... Oohhh!

SEAGOON: Answer us, you came here to meet a lady.

BLUEBOTTLE: Yes, Captain. (snickers) Thereís a lady behind that bush.

MIN: Ohh! One, two, three, pooww!

FX: BOING

GRAMS: SPLASH

LITTLE JIM: Sheís fallen in da water!

SEAGOON: Curses! Foiled by zoom pills. Itís no good. Bluebottle, circulate the reward of five pounds for the murderer of Count Jim "Pules" Moriarty.

GRAMS: WHOOSH, WHOOSH.

GRYTPYPE: Five pounds, please.

SEAGOON: Five pounds.

GRYTPYPE: May I present the murderer of Moriarty.

MORIARTY: Ahh, mon pleasure, Iím charmed, mon pleasure.

SEAGOON: But that is Moriarty.

GRYTPYPE: Exactly. He shot himself.

SEAGOON: What? Then whereís the gun?

GRYTPYPE: He didnít use one. He pointed his finger at his head and went "bang".

SEAGOON: Thatís ridiculous. (Laughs) How can a man shoot himself by pointing his finger at his head like this and going -

GRAMS: GUN SHOT, BODY FALLING TO THE GROUND. WHOOSH, SHOVEL ON HARD SURFACE

UNDERTAKER: Mine, I think! ... Hmm, whereís my shovel?

SEAGOON: What-what? You canít bury me, I wanna join the Guards!

UNDERTAKER: No man under six feet can join the Guards.

SEAGOON: (Fading out) Heeeeeee...eeelp!!

GREENSLADE: Let us not worry. Itís all in the mind, you know. It says here in small print.

ORCHESTRA: END TUNE: "Ding dong the witch is dead"

GREENSLADE: That was the Goon show, a BBC recorded programme 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 programme produced by Charles Chiltham.

ORCHESTRA: END TUNE WITH RAY ELLINGTON QUARTET