BILL: This is the BBC Home Service, away with dull care, let the joy bells ring, Huzzah!
GRAMS: DEAD MARCH FROM 'HAMLET': SOLEMN TREAD OF FUNERAL CORTEGE WAILS OF PROFESSIONAL JEWISH MOURNERS IN THE BACKGROUND -ECCLES SINGING
KEN: By Jove, it's a merry singing funeral. Don't take it so hard folks, it's only a trial one for Eccles. And now for an encore I'll sing a little song entitled 'Looking through the knot-hole in Grandma's wooden leg'. Maestro please.... thank you (sings), 'Long long ago in the wilds of Australia....
PETER: I say, I say, You look a sporting gentleman to me, You look like a sporting man.
KEN: How dare you interrupt my act with 'I say, I says' while I'm trying to entertain these nice nutty ladies and gentlemen here.
PETER: Tell me, I say.... tell me I say, if it takes a chicken ten days to eat forty pounds of sawdust how long would it take to lay a ten-ton wooden egg....?Doyougiveup?
PETER: You do....? So did the chicken!
KEN: I say, now look here, look here....
PETER: Tell me, tell me, tell me Mister Man, tell me Mister man can a woman with a wooden leg change a pound note?
KEN: Gan a woman with a wooden leg change a pound note? Of course she can!
PETER: No she can't, you see she's only got 'Half a Nicker' ha ha!
KEN: Would you kindly leave the green-gate. It doesn't really matter 'cos we're still good friends.... you see hecauseeeee!
ORCHESTRA: THREE NOTE INTRO INTO 'ARM IN ARM TOGETHER' - LAST EIGHT BARS
PETER & KEN: (sing) Arm in Arm together just like we used to be arm in arm through destinyyyyyyyyyy.
ORCHESTRA: TATTY 'I WANT TO BE HAPPY' PLAY OFF. SEGUE INTO 'MOONUGHT MADONNA' VIOLIN, CLARINET, TROMBONE LEAD ON FLOOR. ALL PLAYING MELODY.
HOUSE: MANAGER (over mikes) And now, if you'll pardon the expression, number two on your programme is the world famous Continental act Le Trois Toms des Acton.
BILL: (seat in the circle voice) And onto the stage come three tatty men wearing wigs, leotards and partial hoots, the anchor man has a hearing aid on his shin.
KEN: ~ huo hup!
ORCHESTRA: ROLL ON DRUMS. CYMBAL CRASH.
GRAMS: TATTY APPLAUSE. DISTANT RASPBERRY.
KEN: And now we take pleasure in performing the death-defying Great Pyramid... Hoi! Hup -
ORCHESTRA: SLOW BUILDING ROLL ON DRUMS
TRIO: DREADFUL STRAINS. F.X. ODD CLICKS AND CLACKS. OLD BONES CREAKING.
HOUSE: MANAGER (over above) And the Trois Toms des Acton strain to make a sub-human pyramid of knees.
GRAMS: SOUND OF PLANK ON THE STAGE STARTING TO BREAK - FINALLY THE WHOLE TRIO CRASH THROUGH THE WOODEN STAGE - TRIO SCREAM
HOUSE: MANAGER Oh dear, they've all gone through the stage, they'll be killed!
ORCHESTRA: 'I WANT TO BE HAPPY' - LAST 8 BARS
KEN: Ohh my leg, it's gone below the waist.
LEW: (approach) What's happened? Why aren't you on the stage then?
KEN: I've broken my right leg.
LEW: Only one? Get back on that stage do you hear!
KEN: I refuse!
MAX: You'd better do as he says boy, or we'll never work again.
KEN: Rightttttt come here, come here. Help me up with your conk.
F.X.: CRACK OR SNAP OF LEG-BONE BREAKING
KEN: Oh, there goes the other one!
LEW: Two broken legs! Give me the mike. Hello ladies and gentlemen, presenting Neddie Seagoon in his impression of Toulouse Lautrec!
F.X.: BICYCLE BELL
MORIARTY: STOP! Ferme Roi La.
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: I second Ferme Hoi La.
KEN: In our midst if not sooner, rode two men wearing nude clothes. On a unicycle they were. Their bodies driven by legs and their legs driven by feet.
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: Nothing but the best for us, Kennie. My card de Jour.
KEN: (reads) 'Doctors Moriarty and Thynne, surgeons, tree fellers and old women hit while you wait.'
MORIARTY: We must examine this wreck.... say ahhhhhh.
MORIARTY: Come little hairy Kennie let us give you a free diagnosis.... now put your head on that anvil.
F.X.: SLAM OF SHOVEL ON ANVIL - KEN SCREAMS
MORIARTY: Just as I thought! A fractured skull!
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: Yes, Ken, now let us examine your wallet.
F.X.: BOLTS, CHAINS, LOCKS, KEYS
GRAMS: TAPPING ON HUGE EMPTY WATER TANK WITH A SMALL MALLET. (TO GIVE THAT HOLLOW SOUND)
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: Empty, by Jupiter.... Kennie you're suffering from advanced poverty.
KEN I say, is that dangerous?
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: If not checked it can lead to bankruptcy, and the Pauper's Krutt, the dreaded disease that took poor Max Geldray's conk away in its prime.
MAX: Yes, I got it bad and dat ain't good, boy.
KEN: You going to play mate?
MAX: Yes, dat means that you're going back for -OMNES The Brandyyyyyy
GRAMS: THUNDERING OF DEPARTING BOOTS
MAX: & MUSIC ORCHESTRA
MAX: Thank you ladies and gentlemen.
BILL: During Mr Geidray's conk, the great surgeons worked on Connor's poverty.
MORIARTY: Now little hairy Kennie, here is a National Health Prescription on hair.
KEN: I see. (reads) '£50 to be taken once a week until better'.... moneyr Ha, ha, ha.... so that's the cure for poverty.
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: Yes.... it took a lot of Lab work but we found it.
KEN: Well, I'll get round to the bank and have this made-up.
MORIARTY: Not with those naughty broken legs Kennie.... we'll keep them until they're mended.... now let us rest your body on this pair of skates and awayyyyyyyyyyy.... goodbye!
GRAMS: KEN SINGING: AND THE SOUND OF A PAIR OF SKATES DEPARTING DOWN A PAVED-PAVEMENT
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: Now Moriarty, our master-plan, put on this mask, strap itto your knee, then glue this bearded wig to your teeth.
MORIARTY: There, how do I look?
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE It's too early to say.
MORIARTY: Look out, here comes an announcement....
BILL: And now by arrangement with America.... the sound of the Bank of England.
F.X.: PENNY DROPPED ON TO SOMETHING RESONANT
BANK TELLER: We had a beastly day, dear.
KEN Hello Merry bank teller.
BANK TELLER: I say, what's this? A sack of potatoes on skates?
KEN: It's only a temporary measure, now call your manager.
BANK MANAGER: What is it Jim what is Jimmmmmmmmm.
KEN: Make up this prescription Jimmmmmmmmmm.
BANK MANAGER: £50 on the National Health.... that will cost you a shilling J immmmmmmmmmmm.
BANK MANAGER: Miss Lum, make up a bottle of £50.
F.X.: SCOOP OF MONEY (COINS)
BANK MANAGER: There Jim. There Jimmmmm....
KEN: Thank you, thank you my man, and here's a tip.
BANK MANAGER: A tip? A piece of cork?
KEN: Yes, it's a cork tip!
ORCHESTRA: TA RA CHORD GRAMS OVATION, SCREAMS AND CHEERS
KEN: Stop.... it wasn't that funny folks .... it wasn't that funny.
F.X.: THUD. (NOT TEMPLE BLOCK) THUD
KEN: Ohh, nutted by men with masked ~
MORIARTY: Got him! Now get this bottle of money, and off -
WILLIUM: (blows hot break on police whistle) 'Ello sir 'ello, I was reading the Police Gazette and I saw your Advert that read 'help, I have been attacked, apply to the supine body on the pavement'.
KEN: Yes, I've just had my medicine stolen.
WILLIUM: Stolen on it yern?
WILLIUM: Arnn! Now, where's me mate's note-hook, ah here it is on top of the Eiffel Tower. Now den.... What was this medicine called?
KEN: It's called £50.
ECCLES: Hello Ken!.
KEN: Hello Eccies.
ECCLES: Well I better be gettin' along.
WILLIUM: 'Ere, 'ere wait a minute aren't you the Minister who built that highway that fell to bits?
WILLIUM: Ohh, well it was somebody like you, I know.
ECCLES: I arrest you for the murder of Bluebottle. -
WILLIUM: He ain't dead!
ECCLES: Oh well, you watch it, that's all.
MORIARTY: Look Grytpype, it's poor Kennie.... and his wallet is still empty.
F.X.: FURIOUS WRITING
GRYTPYFE-THYNNE: There Ken, a fresh prescription for £50.... now let's get him to a hospital.
GRAMS: PAIR OF SKATES ON PAVEMENT
KEN: Oh, thank heaven you came Doctor, some swine 5 robbed my £50 of medicine and.... (speed up)
BILL: Now, a National Health Hospital.
GRAMS: PALM COURT TRIO: TEA CUPS IN DISTANCE
NURSE: Time for your naughty medicine Mr Gonnor.
KEN: Oh Nurse.... ha ha I didn't see you....
NURSE: You are naughty.... say Ahhhhhhhh!
F.X.: MONEY BEING SCOOPED DOWN HIS THROAT
KEN: (mou~hing)Ahh£50... my poverty feels better already... gad, I feel fit.
ECCLE5: Hello dear.... well, how's the patient?
NURSE: Ohh hello handsome.
ECCLES: Ohh, you're a good looking fella too. KEN Silly Eccles, this nurse is a woman.
EGGLES: Oh well, he's a good-lookin' woman, isn't he....
NURSE: Are you married?
NURSE: Your poor wife.
ECCLES: Yer. But the girl next door, ohhh ho ho ho ho.... KEN He's growing up folks, it had to come.
ECCLE5: Hello folks, hello folks and now folks here's my latest record folks.
GRAMS: VERY OLD HILTON RECORD: RECORD ECCLES SINGING OVER THE TOP OF IT
F.X.: PISTOL SHOT
KEN: Bad news folks devine, while that record was in the oven, I was dragged from my sick bed, and thrown in Holloway Women's Prison. Oh tragedy, incarcerated in a women's prison, I have a request for liberty, give me twenty-four hours.
GOVERNOR WOLFIT:Right, hold out your steaming hat.
F.X.: PILE OF RUBBISH
GOVERNOR WOLFIT: There, and it's all in minutes.
KEN: Ta sir, in the time given I will try to trace the villains and regain possession of my legs.
GOVERNOR WOLFIT: Right Warden, let him go, but keep him on a chain. RAY Right, I'll pay it out. Off you go mate.
GRAMS: PAIR OF SKATES FREE WHEELING START SLOW AND GET FAST. CHAIN PAYING OUT.
KEN SINGS: 'China, my Island homeland of the free.... I've got the etc. etc.'
BILL: And as the body of Connor skates into the night we find a lone-vinegar sipper called Ray Ellington who sings devine.
RAY: ELLINGTON MUSIC QUARTET
BILL: Could I have some music with this announcement please.
BLUEBOTTLE: All right den Wal, I been wai tin' for dis bit (sings) 'Does the Christmas Puddin' lose its flavour up the chimney overnight.' (sings behind)
BILL: Ta. Poor Connor is travelling on a roller skate, his legs being filched by the two fiend doctors. We find him on a lonely Sussex moor, a chain
round: his neck, the other end attached to Holloway Prison.
GRAMS: HOWLING WIND AND RAIN. ROLLER SKATES APPROACH CHAIN PAYING OUT.
KEN: Ohhh what a night folks. Ten miles I have travelled and no signs of the two doctors. I must complain to the AA, the BB and the CC, or in English yes yes.
BLUEBOTTLE: Can I stop singing now, Captain? My nose has started to bleed.
KEN: Co away lad Will you, I'm acting.
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh, could I act wid you den?
KEN: Yes, but keep quiet.
BLUEBOTTLE: Can I be your stand in?
KEN: Airight. Stand in that hole over there.
BLUEBOTTLE: Cor standing in a hole! I wish my mum could see me now.... Hello, Mum, Dad, Rene, Eileen and Dave, I am quite well and acting on radio keep the dinner in the oven, 'coslwon'tbe....
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh you swine, you've hurt my shirt.
KEN: Shut up child. I'll lay me down on this tatty piece of ground called England. (sleeps)
BLUEBOTTLE: (goes of) I'm goin' home.... I don't want to stay and play.... (I'm gozng threats) Do you hear me? I'm .........
GRAMS: SOUND OF GREAT THUNDERING SOLO OF 'OLD COMRADES' OVER: SUDDENLY. HAVE AN EXPLOSION. RAIN ON TIN ROOF. SKITTLES IN BOWLING
ALLEY. EXPLOSION. SERIES OF FIREWORKS. (THE CRACKERS THAT GO OFF RAPIDLY ONE AFTER OTHER): ONE OR TWO THUNDER FLASHES. SUPERIMPOSED OVER SOLO OF 'OLD COMRADES'
BLOODNOK: (screams and hollers over the above) Ohhh, dear dearrrrrrr, that wasn't in the music.
KEN: You, you sir, how dare you break into my private sleep.
BLOODNOK Well, I saw your mouth open so I came in.
KEN: Well get out of my mouth and Mind the Jaws!
GRAMS: TUBE TRAIN DOORS CLOSE
BLOODNOK: Ohh, just in time. Wait a moment Sir. Lift-up your trouser leg.
F.X.: WOODEN VENETIAN BLIND GOES UP
BLOODNOK: Ohh, just as I thought, the ragged-underpants of gunner Connor, ex-regimental strangler.
KEN: Exposed! Tell me, how do you know my terrible secret? BLOODNOK The war lad, France and the Low Countries. Remember?
BLOODNOK: The invasion, Salerno. Remember we spent that night in a field together?
KEN: Sheila Francis, 601 ATS Company. Darling, what hit you?
BLOODNOK: Put me down you blind military fool! I'm not her do you hear me. I'm.... and I quote from this dishonourable discharge paper.... I'm . . . . no, better still, I'll unveil myself.
F.X.: UPPING OF CANVAS
KEN: Great Heavens! Major Denis Bloodnok, coward and bar, what are you doing on a lonely Sussex m~?
BLOODNOK: The old trouble lad, you know. You never know where you find them. You see I'm on a world tuba playing tour of England.
KEN: It must be hell in there.
BLOODNOK: It is. Look we can't stand here in this rain on a lonely moor, people will think we're avoiding them. Wait a minute, give me a rock, there's something behind that tree. Huh.....
GRAMS: DISTANT SOUND OF STONE HITTING BLUEBOTTLES HEAD
BLUEBOTTLE: Oeeeeeee.Ohhhhhh... swine man Bloodnok, you've krinned my Plitts. (SPEED UP AS BLUEBOTTLE SPEAKS)
ORCHESTRA: MAD LINK. SUDDEN RUSH OF COMPUCATED 5/4 MUSIC. PAUSE. ANOTHER MAD RUSH TO PLAY THE PHRASE... ALL THE ORCHESTRA GIVE A LOUD YELL.... GEORGE CHISHOLM SINGS '0000000000' ORCHESTRA PLAY THE PHRASE
AFTER HIM (BUSK IT).... TROMBONE SOLO.
GRAMS: GREAT EXPLOSION
ORCHESTRA: BURSTS INTO MAD RUSH OF GRAND FINALE GETS FASTER AND FASTER
GRAMS: SCREECH OF BRAKES, CAR CRASHES INTO PLATEGLASS SHOP-WINDOW. THREE OR FOUR CUCKOOS FROM GENUINE CUCKOOS.
MORIARTY: And there's more where that came from.
BILL: For no reason other than a paucity of creative continuity, we go to an outlandish old Victorian manor. If you roll up your trousers you will hear it quite clearly.
GRAMS: BOILING CAULDRON
MINNIE: Ha ha ha ha he he he, boil cauldron boil, eye of newt, leg of toad, eagles knee, shell of snail, he he he he, ha ha ha ha.
CRUN: Ah mistress Bannister, what is that hellish fiend brew? MINNIE It's your laundry Henery, I'm making a laundry soup.
F.X.: DOOR OPENS
MINNIE: Make way for him Henery, stand back!
OLD UNCLE OSCAR: Morninggggggggggg ahhh Mm ahhhhhhh....
MINNIE: He's saying good morning Henery. Morning morning Uncle Oscar!
CRUN: He's a bit mutton. What did you do with his ear trumpet? Uncle, what are you doing out of your grave so early?
OLD UNCLE OSCAR: I'm feeling better. Hot porridge, ahhhhh.
CRUN He wants hot porridge, Mm.
MINNIE: Sip this nice steaming laundry soup.
OLD UNCLE OSCAR: Mamam ahhhhahahah sipppppppp ahhhhhhh....
MINNIE: Drink it all down.
GRAMS: THUD AND STARTLED CHICKEN CLUCKS -CONTINUES INTERMITTENTLY
CRUN: Ohhh it's turned him into a male chicken!
MINNIE: Oh dear, Oh dear, well give him an aspirin and put him to bed.
CRUN: Yes, perhaps it will wear off by morning, if not (glee) chicken for Sunday dinner Mi..... ha he he....
F.X.: STONE THROUGH GLASS WINDOW LANDS ON FLOOR
MINNIE: Lawks, a stone through the window.
CRUN There's something attached to it.
KEN: It's me folks, Kennie. And this is my way of saying have you got lodgings?
CRUN: Yes, I've got 'em very bad.
MINNIE: Look you could share the steam attic with two gentlemen doc(ors upstairs.
KEN: Two gentlemen doctors? Send for the police, those men are criminals.
ORCHESTRA: DRAMATIC MUSIC
GRAMS: SOUNDS OF WAILING POLICE SIRENS
MORIARTY: Ahh what's that? Ahhhhhh Police, they've surrounded the house, we're surrounded.
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: What? Somebody's tipped them off. Get the Gatling gun loaded and put this string in your shoulder holster.
WILLIUM: (OFF) You in there, gie yer self up on it, you're surrounded, come out with your hands up or we'll say rude words on you.
KEN: Throw my legs out you naughty men!
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: One step nearer Kennie, and your legs will go in the mincer.
KEN: You wouldn't dare mince the legs of a gooner.
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: No? I tell you we're desperate men.
KEN: You must be, to be on a show like this. CRYTPYPE-THYNNE You're ad-libbing.
KEN: I'm not ad-libbing at all. Bluebottle, take this conker and get my legs back.
BLUEBOTTLE: O.K. Captain, I have got my Finchley gang with me... ready men?
GRAMS: A DOZEN BLUEBOTTLES ALL YELL 'YESSSSSSSS'
BLUEBOTTLE: Charge eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
GRAMS: YELLS OF ALL THE BLUEBOTTLES ALL SHOUTING 'RAY FOR BOTTLE' ETC. AND DEPARTING LITTLE BOOTS
KEN: There they go little heroes all. All that night folks the battle for my legs it raged.
GRAMS: BLUEBOTTLES ALL SHOUTING 'BANG BANG BANG, YOU'RE DEAD'
F.X.: DOOR OPENS
MORIARTY: Stop! We give up. Those pimples and elastic string, they overpower us. Come in little boys, and have some of this nice laundry food.
GRAMS: GREAT RUSH OF BOOTS AS THEY RUSH IN
GRYTPYPE-THYNNE: Come in, let's all sip some of this special 'Minnie Bannister' soup.
KEN: I can see what's coming.... but here goes.
GRAMS: SIPPING SOUNDS.... GRADUALLY CHICKENS START TO CLUCK. CLUCKING.... EVERYWHERE CHICKENS CLUCKING
OMNES: WITH THE ABOVE. ALL CLUCK.
CRUN: Mm, what did you put in the laundry soup?
BILL: Ladies and Gentlemen, with the entire cast unfortunately turned into brood chickens, we are forced to close this series of Goon Shows. The entire audience will now join hands, teeth and knees with the orchestra and sing.
PIANO: CHORD INTO: 4WE'LL GATHER LILACS'
CAST: CAST & (SINGS) WE'LL GATHER LILACS
ORCHESTRA: (see accompanying words)
GRAMS: OVER THE ABOVE SINGING. CHICKENS KEEP CLUCKING IN A STARTLED MANNER
ORCHESTRA: 'OLD COMRADES' PLAY OUT