[b]The Missing No 10 Downing Street[/b]

[i]This is a transcript of the BBC LP "The Very Best of the Goons" released in 1974.  The two musical items are not on the LP. [color=green]TS version 24m07s[/color]

In this episode, Sellers plays Grytpype-Thynne who plays Mr Harry.  I have used the name Grytpype for this character as firstly, we all know the voice and secondly, calling him Harry would be confusing.[/i]

[color=blue][As usual I have inserted my suggestions as follows, [/color][color=green]insertions[/color][color=blue]/[/color][color=red]deletions[/color][color=blue] - Tony (moderator) 6/6/03][/color]

[b]Greenslade:  The BBC presents "Vintage Goons".  Another in a series of programs first broadcast to British listeners in 1954.[/b]

Ned: And now listeners, this is Neddie Seagoon speaking with the new electric microphone, folks. Hello folks! Hello folks! Can you hear me, folks? 

OMNES: Arrrrrrrr. 

Ned: Then listen to the mystery as told by "The Man in Black". 

Orch: Gong 

Sellers: ([i]Alec Guinness[/i])  Thank you. Actually, Iím not "The Man in Black"; the truth is, Iím Guinness, "The Man in the White Suit", but on the way here I fell down a coalhole. This gentleman here is my secretary. 

Ned: You fell down a coalhole too, then? 

Ray: Man, I did not. 

Ned: Silence Ellington. 

Ray: Yim bam balla boo! 

Ned: Iíll have a whitewash brush to you (not in these trousers, mate). Now [color=green]then[/color], pray silence as we tell the story of "This Missing Prime Minister of 1953"! 

Orch: Dramatic chords (ba ba baba bom) 

Greenslade: It was midnight on Christmas Eve 1953. Inspector Seagoon was checking with a policeman on the beat. 

GRAMS: The Great Clock of Westminster striking the four quarters - one set of footsteps - all speeded up and slowed down. 

Ned: Good evening, Constable and law guardian. 

Willium: Hullo, good evening there, Inspector mate. 

Ned: Everything all right at Number Ten? Wait! Whereís your hairy helmet gone? 

Willium: The Prime Minister knocked it orf with a snowball. 

Ned: Did he? Youíll get promotion for this. 

Willium: Oh ta. Just in time for retirement. 

Ned: Keep up the good work! 

Willium: Yes I will. 

Greenslade: That was at midnight; then, at twelve hundred hours....... 

FX: Telephone rings and is picked up 

Spriggs: Hello Jeem. 

Grytpype: Who[color=red]ís[/color][color=green] is[/color] that? 

Spriggs: This is the Bow Street police station speaking. ([i]sings - two-octave[/i]) Speeeek-iiiiing. 

Grytpype: What a clever police station. 

Spriggs: Youíll get a punch up the conk Jim. ([i]sings - two-octave[/i]) Right up the coooonk [color=green], yabadabool[/color]. 

Grytpype: Withhold your two-octave conk punch, while I unfold the tale of a certain story. 

Spriggs: Iíll take everything down, Jim. 

Grytpype: Donít do that! Youíll catch cold. 

Spriggs: Ohh. Ah ha. Whatís your name sir? 

Grytpype: Itís Mr Avery T. Deacon Harry. 

Spriggs: Iíll just right that down. Avery T. Deacon Harry. Whatís the T. for? 

Grytpype: Tom. 

Spriggs: Oh, I see. [color=red]A[/color][color=green]E[/color]very Tom Deacon Harry. Now sir, whatís the trouble? 

Grytpype: 10 Downing Street has gone, laddie. 

[color=green]Spriggs: Owwww!

Grytpype: [/color]Itís not there! 

Spriggs: What do you mean "gone"? ([i]sings - two-octave[/i]) What do you mean "gone"? What do you mean "gone"? 

Grytpype: Iíll tell you. In between number[color=green]s[/color] 9 and 11, there is a blank space. 

Spriggs: ([i]sings[/i]) Nothing there? 

Grytpype: Nothing save a space between 9 and 11. 

Spriggs: Are you pulling my leg? 

Grytpype: No, why? 

Spriggs: Itís just dropped off. 

Grytpype: I see...Well, donít wake it up then. 

Greenslade: That was at 2am. At 2:15, Inspector Seagoon received a report of a mysterious Ďphone call. 

Ned: It says a man claims 10 Downing Street is missing? Hmmm. Eccles, weíd better drive up there. 

Eccles: What for? 

Ned: I want to look Ďround. 

Eccles: But you already look round. Oh ho ho ho ho. Oh, weíre having fun tonight. 

Ned: Yes, yes. Is your squad car handy? 

Eccles: Yep, I tuned the engine myself and I can get an extra two miles an hour out of her. 

Ned: How fast did she go before? 

Eccles: She ainít ever been before. 

Ned: In that case, Iíll walk; itíll be quicker. 

Eccles: All right den. You walk! Iíll drive de car aní you walk! Weíll see....weíll see who gets dere first. [color=green]([i]lip smacking noises[/i])[/color]

Ned: OK, good bye! 

FX: Door slams 

Eccles: OK, my good man. Goodbye den...Goodbye! Ow. OK, weíll see... ([i]shouts[/i]) Oh Inspector? 

Ned: ([i]off mic[/i]) Yes? 

Eccles: When you get dere, wait for me! 

Orch: Dramatic chords (ba ba baba bom) 

Greenslade: On arrival at Downing Street, Inspector Seagoon was horrified. 

Eccles: Yeah! I got dere first! 

Greenslade: Number 10 Downing Street was missing. The area was soon alive with CID men. The duty Constable was closely questioned, quostioned and quistioned. 

Willium: Yes, well...Oh dear...I was tied up, Inspector, and then they gagged me with this; they got it from 1[color=red]3[/color][color=green]0[/color] Downing Street. 

Ned: Oh, a hand towel. 

Willium: Yeah, they stuffed it in me mouf. 

Ned: Oh. I see. 

Willium: Well sir, itís like this, you see; at twelve thirty, a monster lorry pull up outside, ten men jump out and wallop me on my Ďead. I turn round to see who it was, and "wallop, wallop" on my Ďead again. I stood up, you see, Ďave a quick vada, no one there, and "wallop, wallop, wallop" all on my Ďead. As I took out me notebook, all official like, "wallop, wallop, wallop" on my Ďead, all wallop[color=red]ed[/color][color=green]s[/color], all over my Ďead. Aní then I... 

Ned: Yes, yes, yes. But did you notice anything about these men? 

Willium: Yes...I noticed they kept walloping me on [color=red]my[/color][color=green]the[/color] Ďead! 

Ned: And, to your knowledge, the Prime Minister was in the house? 

Willium: Yeah. Aní when I come three, er, too, the Ďouse was gone. 

Ned: The Prime Minister gone?! Heís got to be found quickly! 

Spike: ([i]Thesp[/i]) Inspector! I found these lying in the road! 

Ned: Ah...a pair of gloves, eh? These may help us...Curse! 

Spike: ([i]Thesp[/i]) Whatís up sir? 

Ned: They donít fit me. 

Spike: ([i]Thesp[/i]) Ohhhhh. 

Ned: Whereís the ace cardboard detective? 

Bluebottle: I heard you call, my Captain. I heard you call! ([i]sings[/i]) deedle deedle der dum. ([i]sings new signature tune[/i]). Give your command and it will be done-ed! I will not flinch from my duty! I stand ready! 

Ned: Bluebottle...Bluebottle, have these gloves analysed at once. 

Bluebottle: It shall be done my Captain, with all speed! I go! Farewell! 

Ned: Stout lad. Sergeant Max Geldray? See what you can make of this small, blunt instrument. 

GRAMS: Many running feet - cries of "Brandy!" 

(Musical item cut) 

Bluebottle: Right Captain, I have returned, Iím back. (points at own face - toot-toot-toot-toot) 

Ned: Well? 

Bluebottle: Well, I will tell you. These gloves, what I have got, have been thoroughly analysed at a laboratory. 

Ned: And? 

Bluebottle: We have ascertained the exact type what is they are. 

Ned: Good. What type are they? 

Bluebottle: Theyíre what you wear on your hands. 

Ned: Bluebottle, I am proud here and now, to give you the rank of Constable, First Class. Just stand on this springboard... 

FX: Boing 

Bluebottle: Eugh. 

GRAMS: Splosh 

Little Jim: Heís fallen in da water. 

Bluebottle: You rotten swine, you! Eugh. [color=red]Goodbye[/color][color=green]Farewell[/color] cruel world! (sinks slowly into underpants) 

Ned: Heís upset about something Sergeant. 

Greenslade: Yes. Still, Inspector, while the police force have men like Bluebottle, what have they got to worry about? 

Ned: Men like Eccles. 

Greenslade: Yes indeed, men like Eccles. 

Eccles: Women like Eccles too! Oh ho ho. 

Ned: Now Eccles, what is the exact time? 

Eccles: The time? Itís...oh, itís getting on. 

Ned: Thank you. 

Eccles: Ta. 

Ned: ([i]shouts[/i]) Now, gather Ďround everyone. 

Spike: Rhubarb rhubarb, Iím everyone. 

Ned: [color=green]Men! [/color]Stop the rhubarb. ([i]shouts[/i]) [color=red]Now[/color] men, this is the position. Someone claims that they saw a large lorry with what looked like 10 Downing Street strapped to the back! 

Bluebottle: ([i]shadowing Ned, about half a second behind[/i])....to the back. 

Ned: ([i]shouts[/i]) So we intend to set up police and military roadblocks on all main roads! 

Bluebottle: ([i]shadowing Ned, about half a second behind[/i])...main roads. 

Ned: Shut up Bluebottle! 

Bluebottle: Shut up Bluebottle. 

Ned: ([i]shouts[/i]) Flying squad cars [color=red]and[/color][color=green]will stop all[/color]...([i]self fades[/i]) 

Orch: Dramatic chords 


Ned: Slow down at this corner Bluebottle. 

Bluebottle: Right-ho, Captain. 

Eccles: ([i]slow, talking over police radio[/i]) Hello, Hello. Policeman Eccles calling Inspector Seagoonís car. [color=green]Hello ([i]over top of the start of Neds line[/i])[/color]

Ned: [color=green]Hello Eccles, [/color]Seagoon answering, over. 

Eccles: Inspector? I think [color=red]I might have[/color][color=green]I'm on to[/color] something. Iíve been tailing a car up de Great North Road for the last 30 miles, and it looks very suspicious. 

Ned: Overtake [color=red]it[/color][color=green]him[/color] at once! 

Eccles: But heís doiní a hundred miles an hour. 

Ned: Well, try and pass him. 

Eccles: Well, Iíll try, but heís got the advantage over me. 

Ned: Why? 

Eccles: Heís in a car, [color=red]aní[/color] Iím walkiní. 

Ned: Youíve got boots on? 

Eccles: Iíve got boots on. 

Ned: Then none of these silly excuses; get that car! 

Eccles: OK, over and out. 

Ned: Right now...Private Bluebottle? Howís the time going? 

Bluebottle: Itís going "tick-tock, tick-tock, tick." 

Ned: It must be the same make as mine; mine goes "tick-tock" too. 

Bluebottle: Mine doesnít go "tick-tock-too", mine just goes "tick-tock, tick-tock...tick." 

GRAM: Smashing glass [color=green], crashes and thumps[/color]

Bluebottle: Eugh! Someoneís hitted me with a brick! Eughew. ([color=green]narrating)[/color] face turns green, ears fall off, legs turn to jelly, goes cross-eyed with agony. Faints, on soft part of ground[color=red])[/color]. 

Ned: Bluebottle, are you hurt? 

Eccles: ([i]slow, talking over police radio[/i]) Hello? Calling Inspector Seagoon? 

Ned: Oh blast! Hello Eccles, what is it? 

Eccles: Good news. I stopped that car! 

Ned: How? 

Eccles: I threw a brick at the driver! 

Ned: You threw a brick...?! 

Eccles: Just a minute, just a minute...Hup...OK. I just threw another brick at his mate. 

Ned: Eccles, you idiot. You.... 

FX: Wood block 

Ned: Oh! 

Eccles: Hello? Hello, Inspector Seagoon? I[color=green]'ve[/color] got his mate as well! Hello?...Hello?....Ohhhhhh. 

Orch: Dramatic chords 

Sellers: ([i]Radio reporter[/i]) [color=green]At [/color] five in the morning. There was still no news of the missing Prime Minister or number 10 Downing Street. Finally the BBC, after high-level consultations, decided to broadcast the following bulletin to the nation. 

Greenslade: Owing to frost, the swimming gala at Lordís Cricket Ground has been postponed. In its place you can hear "Hamlet on Ice", it helps to keep it fresh. 

Bloodnok: Switch that radio thing off, will you?...Thatís better. Oh, stuck out here at five in the morning, in charge of a military roadblock. What a life. Still, duty before pleasure! Now, let me see men...yes! Iíll pay pontoons only. Letís be having you now, come along... 

GRAMS: cash dropping onto table 

OMNES: Unhappy muttering 

Bloodnok: Never mind lads, never mind. Letís have another round. 

Private Bogg: ([i]Harry[/i]) Not for me Sir, Iím skint. 

Bloodnok: No money? 

Private Bogg: No. 

Bloodnok: Flatten ([i]Knurkel ???[/i]) me gronkers! Get outside on guard, [color=red]you[/color][color=green]fool[/color] military fool! How dare you play cards when you should be at your post?! To your duties...quick...march! 

FX: one pair of footsteps marching away - under 

Bloodnok: Left...Left...Left, right, left...Come on. Pick Ďem up! 

FX: footsteps stop suddenly 

Bloodnok: Now...put Ďem down again. 

FX: footsteps continue 

Ellington: ([i]off mic - shouts[/i]) Hello there (?) 

Private Bogg: Sir! 

Bloodnok: What? 

Private Bogg: Thereís somebody creeping about, outside. 

Bloodnok: What?! Give me my pistol...sword...hand me that rifle...steel helmet...and that hand grenade...breastplate and armoured shield. Right, now Private Bogg, take this stick and go and see who it is. While I go and have my Ďphoto taken under the bed. 

Private Bogg: Right Sir. 

FX: Door opens 

Private Bogg: Hello? ([i]clears throat[/i]) Hello? Anybody there? Hello? Hello-ho? Anybody out there in the dark? 

Bloodnok: Well Bogg? Is there anybody there? 

Private Bogg: No Sir. Not a soul. 

Bloodnok: Oh...Then Iíll take charge of this. ([i]shouts[/i]) Come on out and fight, you out there in the dark! ([i]to Bogg[/i]) I say, youíre sure thereís nobody out there, are you? 

Private Bogg: Iím positive. 

Bloodnok: Right. ([i]shouts[/i]) Come on you cowards. Come and fight! Oh ho ho ho...That scared them away. ([i]shouts[/i]) Youíve run away, havenít you? 

Ellington: ([i]off mic[/i]) Oh no I ainít! 

[color=green]Bloodnok: Argghh![/color]

FX: door slams [color=green]bolts slid across[/color] - knocking on door under 

Private Bogg: Major, open the door! Let me in! 

Bloodnok: I canít, Iím in the bath. 

Private Bogg: Let me in! 

Bloodnok: Iím sorry, all vacancies are filled. 

Private Bogg: You can have ten bob! 

FX: door opening and closing - cash register [color=green], coin in tray[/color]

Private Bogg: Thank you Major. I was so frightened out there. 

Ellington: ([i]very close[/i]) Man, so was I. 

Bloodnok: Aeuoigh. Hands up or I shoot! 

Ellington: Hey, donít point that thing at me. 

Bloodnok: Youíll feel no pain; itís not loaded. Now, Who are you[color=red] and[/color][color=green],[/color] what do you want? 

Ellington: Me man? Well I just dropped off a lorry. 

Bloodnok: Youíre not a spare tyre are you? 

Ellington: Oh no. It was a lorry with a large building strapped on the back. 

Bloodnok: What? That [color=red]must[/color][color=green]might[/color] be number 10 Downing Street. I must contact HQ at once! Bogg, go and try and find a telephone, and you...play Ray. 

Ellington: Well all right! 

Bloodnok: Round the back for the brandy[color=green], quickly[/color]. 

GRAMS: Running feet 

([i]musical item cut[/i]) 

Greenslade: At six in the morning, Private Bogg approached a house in the shape of a Ďplane. He had hopes of using the telephone. Inside, however, all was asleep. 

FX: clock ticking under 

Henry: ([i]mouth noises - sleeping[/i]) 

FX: alarm clock under 

Henry: ([i]wakes up[/i]) What? Oh dear, dear ([i]snores[/i]) [color=green]oh dear dear dear, what, what, what, what, what, what[/color]what? What!? [color=green]([i]lip smacking noises[/i]) [/color]Oh drat it! The alarm clock again. Much too early, Iíll think Iíll turn it off...Where have my specer-tic-als gone? I think they were on the mantelpiece. Iíll just feel along... 

FX: things falling off mantelpiece - pots, pans etc - under 

Henry: Oh dear, dear, dear, [color=green]steady Mr Crun, oh dear, dear, oh dear [/color]what have I done now? 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Henry! 

Henry: Oh dear. I mustnít wake Minnie up. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Henry! Henry Crun!? 

Henry: Are you awake Min? 

FX: alarm clock stops [color=green], things falling stops[/color]

Henry: Are you calling [color=red]me[/color][color=green]Min[/color]? 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) [color=red]Itís[/color][color=green]Yes[/color] the alarm[color=green]'s[/color] going. 

Henry: Itís stopped now Min[color=red]nie[/color]. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Turn it off Henry. 

Henry: I have turned it off. Itís stopped Min. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Itís going "rrrrring" 

Henry: It wasnít going "ring". Itís stopped Min, I tell you! 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Rrrrring, rrrrrrring. 

Henry: Iíve turned it off Min. Donít tell me... 


Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Rrrrrring 

Henry: Itís off Min! Have a caraway seed, and shut up. 

FX: alarm clock starts again 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) What did you say Henry? 

Henry: What, what? Itís stopped now. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Itís stopped now, Henry. 

Henry: No! Itís started again. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Itís stopped Henry, no need to bother. 

Henry: Itís started I tell you. 

Min: ([i]off mic - shouting at Henry under his line[/i]) 

Henry: Itís started. Itís going "rrrring" 

Min: ([i]off mic - shouting at Henry under his line[/i]) 

Henry: Itís going "ring" Iím telling you. 

Min: ([i]off mic - shouting at Henry under his line[/i]) 

Henry: Itís going "ring", I can hear!...There! 

FX: alarm clock stops 

Henry: Min? Modern Min? 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) What is it? 

Henry: Where are my specer-tic-als? 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Your specer-tic-als are in your trousers Henry. 

Henry: Arrr 

FX: knock on door 

Henry and Min: ([i]cries of alarm[/i]) 

Henry: Whoís that at the door, eh?! 

[color=green]Min: We'll all (???) be murdered in our beds.

Henry: Yes?[/color]

Private Bogg: ([i]muffled[/i]) 

[color=green]Henry: Who's that at the door eh?

Private Bogg: ([i]muffled[/i])[/color]

Henry: Whoever you are, speak through the letterbox. 

Private Bogg: It that better? 

Henry: Yes, who are you sir? 

Private Bogg: Well, I have come to ask if we can use your Ďphone.... 

FX: alarm clock starts ringing 

Private Bogg: ...because weíve had a bit of trouble and ... 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Itís going [color=red]"rrring"[/color][color=green]Henry[/color] 

Private Bogg: ...we need to (call HQ ?) [color=green](we've had a lot of things to do ???)[/color] and weíd like to use the telephone. 

Henry: But [color=red]we[/color][color=green]I[/color] havenít got a ... 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) [color=green]~~~ ~~~ ~~~[/color] Itís the alarm clock. 

Henry: Please Min. Thereís a man at the door. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Did you hear what I said? 

FX: alarm clock stops 

Henry: Yes, I didnít hear what you said. 

Private Bogg: I said "Can we borrow your telephone?" 

FX: alarm clock starts ringing 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) There it goes again! [color=green] ~~~ ~~~[/color]

Henry: I canít see it Min. I canít find where my specer-tic-als are. 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Theyíre in your trousers! 

Henry: What? 

Private Bogg: Hello? Can we borrow your telephone, please? 

[color=green]FX: alarm stops[/color]

Henry: Did you say "in my trousers" Min? 

Private Bogg: No, I said "can I borrow your telephone?" 

Henry: ([i]getting cross[/i]) We havenít got a telephone! 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) I know we havenít got a telephone, Henry! 

Private Bogg: But I heard it ringing. 

Henry: That was the alarm clock ringing! 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Youíre right, it is ringing. 

Henry: Shut up, you rotten old fool, you! 

Min: ([i]off mic[/i]) Donít you talk to me... 

Henry: Arghh 

Private Bogg: Can we borrow the telephone, please? 

Henry: ([i]angry[/i]) I tell you, this was not a telephone! 

Private Bogg: Weíd like to use the Ďphone because [color=green]we've had a bit of trouble [/color]... 

Orch: dramatic chords 

Bloodnok: [color=red](?)[/color][color=green]Five thirty and[/color] Bogg hasnít returned yet. Still too dark to see a thing. 

Eccles: ([i]coming towards mic, singing[/i]) I travel the road... 

Bloodnok: Splan me blins! Who is it? Hands up! 

Eccles: I canít put my hands up, Iím... 

Bloodnok: Hands up or I fire! 

Eccles: OK 

FX: lots of metal hitting ground 

Bloodnok: Now whatís happened? 

Eccles: I was riding a bike! 

Bloodnok: Come here! Ough! Perish me fabula! 

Eccles: ([i]makes whooping noise[/i]) 

Bloodnok: Thank you. Who are you two ragged looking goon[color=red]s[/color]? 

Eccles: Aoogh argh, Iím a policeman. 

Bloodnok: If youíre a policeman, Iím Marilyn Munroe! 

Eccles: Wow! 

Bloodnok: Put me down at once! 

Eccles: Wait a minute! Turn Ďround!...Youíre not Marilyn Munroe! 

Bloodnok: I told you I wasnít. What a bitter disappointment to us both. Hold out your wrists. 

FX: chains 

Bloodnok: Now your ankles. 

FX: chains 

Bloodnok: Your neck. 

FX: chains 

Bloodnok: And now, into this iron cell. 

FX: cell door slams 

Eccles: Um, am I a prisoner? 

Bloodnok: Prisoner? What an imagination you have! 

Eccles: Well, I thought you were Marilyn Munroe; you canít have a better imagination than that, can you?...[color=red]Well then[/color][color=green]Anyhow[/color], why did you put all these chains on me? 

Bloodnok: Well...they suit you. 

FX: knock on door 

Bloodnok: I surrender! 

FX: door opens 

Ned: Eccles! 

Eccles: Inspector! 

Bloodnok: Bloodnok! 

Ned: Eccles, what are you doing in that cell? 

Eccles: Iím not doing anything in it. 

Ned: Thank heaven for that! Bloodnok, bad news! 

Bloodnok: What? 

Ned: 10 Downing Street and the PM are in France! Last reported travelling towards Paris, [color=red]Alle[/color][color=green]Follow me[/color]! (?) 

Orch: dramatic chords 

Sellers ([i]radio reporter[/i]) [color=red]At[/color][color=green]By[/color] seven on Christmas morning, Paris was in France, [color=red]and[/color] so was Seagoon. French police, ever willing, supplied flying squad transport. 

FX: horse slowly plodding along road - under 

Eccles: Iím not driving too fast for you fellows, am I? 

Ned: I canít understand it; the French police have been most uncooperative. So very secretive, itís, itís... 

Eccles: Yeah, well dese French are always tryiní to hide something. 

Bloodnok: Not at the Folles Bergere theyíre not! 

Ned: Please Major; this is not the time to think of women! 

Bloodnok: What? Well, tell me when it is, will you? Iíll be there. 

Ned: [color=green]Look! [/color]The trail leads into that French bois. 

Bloodnok: Heís right. Stop the cart Eccles. 

Eccles: OK. Whoa boy... 

FX: horse continues plodding 

Eccles: Whoa. 

FX: horse continues plodding 

Eccles: Whoa, back boy...whoa. 

FX: horse continues plodding 

Eccles: Good horse...whoa. Stop, whoa. 

FX: horse continues plodding 

Eccles: Whoa...back boy...stop...whoa. Nice horse...whoa...whoa horse [color=green]whoooa horse, stop horse ... stop horse, ulumalumalum[/color]. 

FX: horse continues plodding 

Bloodnok: What a big, lumbering idiot he is. 

Eccles: Donít speak to [color=red]the[/color][color=green]dat[/color] horse like that. 

Bloodnok: I was speaking to you [color=green], you fool[/color]! Stop the animal! 

Ned: You fools; that horse is a foreigner. Try shouting stop in French. 

Eccles: Oh yeah...Stop in French! Stop in French! 

Ned: Itís no good; weíll have to jump off. 

Eccles: But I havenít got a parachute. 

Bloodnok: Here, swallow mine. 

Eccles: ([i]swallows and smacks lips[/i]) It wasnít cooked! 

Bloodnok: Never mind. 

Ned: Jump lads! 

Eccles, Ned and Bloodnok: Arrrrrrrrrgh 

FX: three bodies landing 

Ned: Did you hurt yourself Eccles? 

Eccles: No, should I jump again? 

Ned: Save it for the Eiffel Tower. 

Bloodnok: [color=green]Here, [/color]Seagoon; through my telescope, I can see 10 Downing Street in the woods. 

Ned: Let me observe...Gad, it looks real[color=red]ly[/color] close through this telescope! 

Bloodnok: Itís miles away, really. 

Eccles: Well, if itís nearer [color=red]through[/color][color=green]wid[/color] the telescope, lets crawl through the telescope. 

Ned: Brilliant Eccles! 

FX: three pops 

Ned: Right, are we all through? 

Greenslade: As far as being comics, yes. 

Ned: ([i]raspberry[/i]) Silence Greenslade, keep your place! [color=red]And[/color] hide your haddock and cod! Hup! 

Orch: Tatty Ta ra 

Ned: Thank yew. 

Spike: ([i]off mic[/i]) Every one a gem. 

Greenslade: During that brief chord, our heroes arrived at the door of the missing number 10 Downing Street. 

FX: long fancy knocking on door - door opens 

Grytpype: Yes? 

Ned: My nameís Seagoon. 

Grytpype: You must be a drummer. (?) 

Ned: Iím an Inspector. 

Grytpype: Of course, the drains. This way sir. 

Ned: A police Inspector, sir! I only inspect police. Now tell us [color=red]sir[/color], is this place10 Downing Street? 

Grytpype: Who wants to know? 

Ned: A police Inspector by the name of Seagoon. 

Bloodnok: Answer man, answer. Remember, this sword is loaded, and so am I. 

Grytpype: If you must know, the Prime Minister and the entire British Cabinet are in the next room, debating certain affairs that they didnít wish the British people to hear. 

Ned: So thatís why they brought 10 Downing Street to France!!! 

Orch: Ta ra 

Greenslade: And there we conclude our story. There will be a silver collection for the actors. 

Ned: Stop! Wal, dear, big, fat Wal. You canít leave the British Government in a wood in France! 

Grytpype: You canít think of a better place to leave them, can you? 

Ned and Grytpype: Laugh [color=green]([i]getting more and more manic[/i])[/color]

GRAMS: "Land of Hope and Glory" gradually speeded up 

Orch: "Old Comrades March"

[color=green]Greenslade: That was the Goon Show. A BBC recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray and the orchestra conducted by Wally Stott. The script by Spike Milligan, announcer Wallace Greenslade, program produced by Roy Speirs.[/color]