From: (Owen Carter)
Subject: another script
Message-ID: <>
Organization: Dept. of Maths, Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland.
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1993 07:40:41 GMT
Lines: 406


The Statue in the Sahara Desert

< sound of water dropping into a bucket over the top of ...>
Greenslade: This is the BBC Light Programme and the roof leaks. 
< sounds of anguish from audience>
Sprigs: Good heavens!
Greenslade: Yes, even worse I have a severely shattered shirt tale
Secombe: Say that again, Wal
Greenslade: Severly shattered shirt
Secombe: Steady on, remember what happened at rehersal
Sprigs: He got a better laugh that way too, Jim
Secombe: STOP!
Sprigs: OK I'll stop [??]
Secombe: What's this approaching? It's a lorry driven by a rolls royce, 
	isn't it -- yes.
	It's that great thesbian star of bru -- ve-a-von Sellers!
< applause and other excited-type crowd noises -- about 30-50 second of>
Sprigs: He's not as popular as he used to be
	I'll sing that bit folks.
	< sings> He's not as popular as he used to be (eeeeeeeeeeeee)
Sellers: < gibberish ending in 'prune'>
	< Now in a very _bad_ French accent>
	Next week I shall be appearing in 'The Impotence of Being Earnest'
	by Oscar Wilde the blagard of Redding Jail.
	Yours Neddie...
Secombe: Ta!
Sellers: Te!
Secombe: Ti!
Sellers: To! All together
All: Tooo!
Sellers: Oh what it is to have friends!
Sprigs: Ah ... I know I once ...
	Next question please.

Secombe: Dear Sir, My wife has just made a pancake 30 foot round. Is this a 
Milligan: < sounds like Bloodnock> I don't know -- try playing it on the 
Sellers: Together -- the band
Band: Traaaaa!
Sellers: Ah! Caught with their instruments down!
Secombe: And now folks take up the slack while we unwrap this brown paper 
	parcel. Look! < inane giggling>
Sprigs: < quietly> What's that next song [??]
Secombe: It is a lifesize Goon Show in imitation plastic.
Sprigs: And what are these little round things?
Secombe: Gads! It is a set of spare glass jokes
Sellers: Let us hear one, Tom
F/X: < smashing glass>
Sprigs: That's an old one, Jim
Greenslade: Ah, Gentlemen...
Springs: Gentlemen? What's up with you then?
Greenslade: This registered brazzie has just arrived by female
Sprigs: From a bossom friend!
	I got it in quick there -- Thank you, thank you it won't last long, folks
	And now here is an impression of Tom Sellers reading it
Sellers: Ta, te, to, too. This message shows this week's story of the 
	French wine yards entitled "I Like Claret < sings> and to hell with
Sprigs: Oh and now, here wearing a three knot river is Page 1
Secombe: Hello folks. My name is page 1, but it is spelt differently. 
Sprigs: What do you mean it is spelt differently?
Secombe: d i f f ...
Sprigs: Yes, yes, yes. But how do you pronounce it?
Secombe: It is pronounced 'Bang', but it is spelt...
F/X: Loud bang
Secombe: But the 'e' is silent
Sprigs: Silent? Silent as in what?
Secombe: There is no 'e' in 'what'?
Sprigs: Yes there is, Jim. Oh yes there is < something>
	It is spelt w h a t eee
Secombe: That is pronounced whateee 
Sprigs: Not if the 'e' is silent
Secombe: Lets' hear a silent 'e'
Sprigs: Right -- a silent 'e'
< scilence>
Secombe: Perfect!
Sprigs:	Right -- we all saw it coming, didn't we
	Now then a word from Peter Sellers:
Sellers: < loudly> DRAWS!!!
Sprigs: Next week -- another word
Sprigs: < sings, going up at end> For no reason at all 
	My stand in will answer that
	Forward stand in
Secombe: My name is Spike "stand-in" Milligan
	But the knees are silent as in trousers
Sellers: No trembler?
Secombe: Tu-sha
Sellers: Mr Greenslade, answer that for me as me
Greenslade: My name is Peter Sellers
Secombe: Who's playing you
??: Mee!
Secombe: Then who is Peter Sellers?
Sprigs: I am! But the 'i' is silent as in 'looking' [Yes I get it -- do you?]
Secombe: Would you care to elaborate?
Sprigs: Yes
Secombe: Well you will have to wait.
Sprigs: He gets them in some how.
	It's a joke folks! Oh ha, ha, ha
Secombe: And 'Oh ha, ha, ha, ha' is the right answer
	So say 'Ahhhh'
F/X: Bullet shot
Sprigs: < smaking chops> 303 -- my favourite bullet
Secombe: Do you like it? I fired it myself
Sellers: Too much salt for me
Secombe: Who heard of too much salt in Sellers?
Sellers: I am not salt cellars -- my name is Peter
Sprigs: Salt Peter!
Secombe: That's an explosive!
F/X: Explosion
Sellers: Ohhhh!!! There I go!!!
Sprigs: Thank you. Trimph of matter over mind
Secombe: < American> And now from Peterbrough, 17 year old Max Galgray
	And here he is .. 17 year old Max Galgray from Peterbrough
Galgray: Oh boy! At last the breaks!

< Musical number>

Greenslade: Ta. Now the Goon Show proper
	I have in my left ventricle a copy of the Adict of Nanties holding an
	elephant's cardigin. Through the hole drilled up the bottom I can see
	the House of Commons. In the Strangers Gallery disguised as strangers
	are two sinister figures rampant on a cloth of fillited Spon.
Moriariy: Spon!!!!!
F/X: Scratching noises
Moriarity: < over scratching> Oh! Ah! The plin, the plin, oh
GTT: Moriarity, will you stop that revolting buttock scratching in the 
	Strangers Gallery.
M: But I've got strangers in my gallery!
GTT: Stop this noise in Parliment, do you here! Do you want to wake them up?
Secombe: < As Uncle Harry?> As I was saying ....
??: What?
GS: Here! Here!
Se: As I was saying ... 
??: What?
GS: Here! Here!
Se: As I was ... was saying. Do you realize that the British Atomic 
	Commission ...
??: Bravo!
Se: You'd better tell them Lord Puel
Sellers: < very upper class> The British Atomic Commission have no idea 
	what the effect of an atom bomb would be on a nude Welshman holding a 
	rice pudding
Milligan: Do the Russians have this information?
Secombe: No. < some gibberish>
Sellers: Would Mr Beaven have any comment on that?
F/X: Sounds of a donkey (jack ass? :)
Sellers: Thank you.
Milligan?: < Now Indian> Gentlemen, Gentlemen, the Government are willing to pay 
	(thankyou) to pay 1000 pounds in cloth for any Welshman who is willing 
	to stand naked holding a rice pudding and hit by the power of an atom 
GTT: Moriarity? I know the very man -- come
F/X: < Two whoshes>

GS: Sure enough, those woshes were pointed at an early Anglo-Saxian leaping
	house in Picidilly. Within two men are repairing the ravages of Roman 

F/X: < sawing and things falling> with...
William: < singing over this>
Seagoon: William! What are you doing in there?
W: Cutting me toenails, mate. When I gets in bed at night they tears 
	the ceiling, mate.
F/X: Knocking
Bloodnock: I say! You in there!
S: It's Bloonock -- professional soldier and ametuer landlord.
B: Have you got a woman in your room?
S: I certainly have not!
B: Well get out of here will you! This is not that kind of a house!
	Do you hear!
S: Now he tells me -- after all those nights of rafia and fret work!
M: Knock, knock, knocky knock, chum
S: Knock, knock, knocky knock, chum?
M: Yes!
S: That's the private number of my door knocker. Come in!
F/X: Door opening and Feet stampeding in
M: Hello Needie
S: I recognise those octagonal shins. Of course. Its Count Jim "Thighs" 
G: The Steam Count < woosh by M> has been commissioned to do a statue of 
	the Sahrara Desert holding a rice pudding and he wants you Needie to 
	pose for it.
S: Me? Pose as a desert?
M: Certainly -- you are just the right size. And twice as barren!
S: Do I have to pose N-U-D-E?
G: Of course you do. The Sahrara never wears clothes.
S: Not even for supper?
G: Malicious rumors, dear boy
S: But you can't sit down to dinner nude. Supposing there are ladies 
Throat: Ohhhhhhhh
M: Yow!!!!
S: To continue. How long would I have to hold the pose for.
G: You don't have to hold any pose, Ned. You can move at will -- just as 
	long as you don't move. Now for salary. You will be paid in the current 
	Bank of England cigarrete card series of famous criminal footballers.
S: I accept!
< Ta, Te, Ti, To, Tooo! again>
G: All togther!
< Tooo!>
G: Yes, coming on very nicely, thank you
	And now to contact the British Saharra Desert Atomic Centre
	But first Ray Ellignton will (um) sing through his mouth
< Musical number>

GS: Ta! By placing a microphone near GTT's trousers we pick up the thread 
	which shows Ned in the Saharra Desert
G: Now then Ned -- off with your clothes, Neddie
F/X: Great rippings
S: Ohhh! There! How do I look?
M: Owwww!
G: I suppose he makes _somebody_ happy
	Hold this rice pudding!
M: < whispered> GT, GT Only three minutes to zero hour before they drop 
	the bomb -- hurry.
	< aloud> Now Neddie ...
G: Yes
M: ...	just stand on this bulls eye and don't move!
F/X: < woosh away, two off>
S: < tightly> 'Don't move', he said. Right. < normal> Dumm-de-dumm. Gayd if 
	only my mother could see me now, posing for a statue of the Saharra.
	What a proud day for Wales -- not to mention sardines and kippers.
	< giggling> < quietly> It's a bit early in the show isn't it, now? 
GS: Ta. Seeing Mr Seagoon is in a state of de sa be ...
S: Cheeky
GS: ... it would be appreciated if old ladies with binoculars would all 
	listen with your backs to the wireless or place a dark cloth 
	over the speaker.
Minnie: < over howls of protests from old ladies, sounding like her> Oh dear
	-- it's not fair you know. Not fair...

G: Gayd this is living. Now, what was it that Mortiarty said?
F/X: Woosh up to us
M: I said 'Don't Move!'
F/X: Woosh away from us
G: Ta
S: Wait -- what is this approaching across the desert.
Eccles: Dumm, de dung, dlang etc
S: The ragged solider carried cement sacks, playing an imaginary piano.
	He must be one of ours!
	< To Eccles> Good morning.
E: Morning < continues playing, and then pauses for a second and carries on>
S: Gayd that sun's hot
E: Well you shouldn't touch it
S: Well its touched you!
	< to auidence> Just then I caught a glimse of the label on his hat
	it said "Early English Idiot circa 1899'
E: I'm not an indiot. Ask me any question -- I'll show you I'm clever.
	We are clever -- C L E X L X FER. Pronounced
Grams: < gibbersish that sounds like CLEVER as spelt above>
S: All right then -- What's your name?
E: Ahh -- the hard ones first, eh?
S: Come on man! Your name!
E: < repeating> Come on man! Your name! My name. That's funny, I had it
	on the tip of my tounge
S: Stick it out then
	Ahh yes -- Fred Smith, Esq. So you are Fred Smith, Esq
E: No -- that's the name of my tounge
S: We must be related. Smith is the madien name of my right elbow
E: Well I had better be getting back to the barracks
	How far is it to the fort, Fort Doom
S: Thirteen miles
E: Thirteen? That's unlucky
S: Oh alright then -- fourteen miles
E: See -- it was unlucky. I'm a mile further away now
	I shall go amoung you
Grams: < singing and music speed up, approaching>
E: Look -- the rifts!
S: I thought they were aboard!
E: I'm off!
S: Now -- I mustn't loose my head. If I keep dead still the fiendish Arabs will
	think I am a statue of a statue.
Grams: Horses drawing up and music stops
Ellignton: < as Arab> Ahhhh -- look -- statue of fat man holding rice 
	pudding. Just what I need to put in my harem. Keep wives happy 'till
	I get TV or more time. Get him up on horse.
Grams: Musics starts again and fades into distance
GS: Dear listeners. What a stroke of luck for Mr Seagoon. Another thirty
	seconds and the A bomb would have burst on that very spot.
	But wait -- someone approaches the danger zone.
< two male voices (Sellers and Secombe) singing very badly, under this:>
Idiot [Milligan] It's the long lost number eight touring company of the 
	desert song.
Singer 1: Ahh my dear. Look at the peaceful scene. Let us rest here, in 
	the shade of this grass hopper's leg. Ohhh inspiration. I feel a song 
	coming on my dear.  < sings> Because of ....
F/X: Bomb coming down and going off
	Various bits hitting the ground etc
	Two wooshes up to us
M: < panting> Look Gryphe-Thype. He's there -- a direct hit. But he is in 
	bits. Otherwise he is alright.
GTT: Yes
M: Come on Neddie, it was only an atom bomb. Ha ha ha ha
GTT: Let me. Allow me Mortarity. I was always rather good at jigsaw 
	puzzles. Now that bit goes in there. This leg goes there. That bit in 
	there. And this goes in there!
Minnie: Nooo!
GTT: No it doesn't. Wait a moment. This knee fits here.
M: What?
GTT: Horrors of mutation! He's changed -- he's turned into more than one person!
M: Well there was always enough of him!
GTT: Let's get him to the atomic centre!
M: Right -- we get him there!
Orchestra: Some music

GS: There then we have the situation. But the capture of the nude Neddie 
	soon came to the attention of the OC Fort Bowls
Orchestra: Bloodnok theme, followed by the usual collection of disgusting
	noises and crys from Bloodnok
B: Oh! Oh! Oh dear, dear. Oh, there must be a cure for it, Oh dear!
Secombe: Knock, knock
B: Come in 'Knock, knock'
Se: < slightly different accent> Good morning, Mayor
B: Gayd!! It's Secombe playing a different part. Curse these small budget 
	shows. What's in that envelope?
Milligan: < high pitched idiot> The next part of the plot and a messanger 
	in the plain wrappers.
B: So it is! Come out
B: Then I was right! Even as I spoke the native plunged his hand into his 
	lunch basket and drew out a glass ball. (A daring move on his part).
SDA: It's a fortune tellers' ball
B: What! Why weren't we invited!? Oh I can't resist them! Hand me the 
	turbin. Look at the crystal ball -- now what can we see? Turn up the 
	brightness...  Ah!! Its a nude Welsh man holding a rice pudding, being 
	abducted into Red Bladder's harem. Action! Bugler -- sound the sound of 
	the buge
Milligan: < several unsuccessful attempts to buge, followed by a gun shot>
Orchestra: Serious music 

B: Left, right, left ... < speed up and slowing down> ...
Secombe: Engisn! Ensign!
Bluebottle: Yes, captain! What is it!
< applause -- real>
Se: How far from Red Bladder are we?
Bb: I think we must be within ear shot
Se: Why?
Bb: He just shot off one of my ears!
< applause and recorded voices singing 'For he's a jolly good fellow!'>
	Thank you. Thank you Bluebottlers
	I'm glad to be back. And the good news now. During the summer hols
	guess what happened -- I started to grow hairs on my little legs!
	Nature is preparing me for marriage! Horrah! And for my next part
	I will ...
F/X: slap
Bb: You hit me again like that and see what happens
F/X: slap
Bb: See what happens?
F/X: Sound of steam train drawing up
Se: Look!
B: Gayd! It's the 4:20 Arab Fort from Islignton -- dead on time. Take cover 
Se: Theres the Red Bladder on the battlements.
B: Do you think he is going to capitulate?
Se: I don't know but I should stand back in case he does
B: Eccles -- you speak the language. You challange him
E: OK. Red Bladder! You can't frighten me!
F/X: Gun shot
E: Ow! He frightened me!
B: Bladder!!! I give you to dawn to get out and surrender or the new rent
	act will come into force. 
Orchestra: more serious music

GS: Meanwhile, the PM addresses the house
PM: Hons, mims, ma'ams and momes. I have just received great news. The 
	Atomic Commission have assitatained that when a nude Welsh man
	holding a rice pudding is struck by an atomic bomb, he turns into
	a fully clad number eight touring company of 'The Desert Song'.
Voice: < milligan>  Then Britian leads the world!!!
Grams: Land of Hope and Glory
Voice: < milligan again> Soon all over England reactors were set up and 
	atomic furnances were turning nude Welshmen into number 8 touring
	companies of The Desert Song. Song, song, song ... ding, ding
F/X: Morse code coming in over the last bit of that...
Voice: Oh they have taken over...
Voice: < American, Sellers> And it was assitained that England now leads
	the world in the production of number 8 Desert Song touring companies.
GS: And what of Neddie?
GTT: To this day he stands stuck still as a statue in a harem.
	One move would mean, well, the unkindest cut of all.

GS: I think they have finished. So would you all leave quietly. Thank you.
F/X: Sounds of auidence leaving. We can just hear a little dialog between 
	Henry and Minnie. This slows, then comes to a grinding halt and
	'pops' off to total silence
GS: I expect you were surpised but that was 'The Goon Show'.  In real life 
	they are disguised as Wally Stotts (sp?) Orchestra, the Ray Ellignton 
	quartet, Max Gelgray, Harry Secombe, Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan
	-- who also writes the thing. The only unreal persons in this
	recording were, Wallace Greenslade, announcer, and the producer
	John Browl -- who prefers to be called ...
Orchestra: Suddenly into theme music

#Owen Carter            #   "I put on my cloudiest suit...              _o_  #     #    Size five lightening boots too...           |<  #  #    ...and now, shooting into the night..."         #