Coming right up - the theatre sketch - so don’t move!
I have a vewy gweat fwiend in Wome named Biggus… Dickus.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the refreshment room here at Bletchley. My name is Kenny Lust and I’m your compère for tonight. You know, once in a while it is my pleasure, and my privilege, to welcome here at the refreshment room, some of the truly great international artists of our time. And tonight we have one such artist. Ladies and gentlemen, someone whom I’ve always personally admired, perhaps more deeply, more strongly, more abjectly than ever before. A man, well, more than a man, a god, a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him. Ladies and gentlemen, the incomparably superior human being, Harry Fink.
I think I’ll just go for a little walk.
He hasn’t got shit all over him.
No, the whole premise is silly and it’s very badly written. I’m the senior officer here and I haven’t had a funny line yet. So I’m stopping it.
Remember - policemen make wonderful friends. So write today and take advantage of our free officer. Thank you. And now for the next sketch.
I’m taking this lot in in the name of Her Gracious Majesty Queen Elizabeth.
I entered a seaside summarizing contest, and my doctor encouraged me.
Regards,
Shodan
Theatrical managers in this area have not been slow to appreciate the sea’s tremendous dramatic value. And somewhere, out in this bay, is the first underwater production of Measure for Measure.
And now, the Fish Slapping Dance.
Still no sign of land. How long is it?
Oh, well, I’d like to buy a copy of an ‘Illustrated History of False Teeth’.
I’d like to welcome the pommy bastard to God’s own earth, and I’d like to remind him that we don’t like stuck-up sticky-beaks here.
Well I’ve just been starring in several major multi-million dollar international films, and, during breaks on the set, I’ve been designing a Cathedral, doing wonderful unpublicized work for charity, er, finishing my history of the world, of course, pulling the birds, er, photographing royalty on the loo, averting World War Three - can’t be bad - and, er learning to read.
Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Chief Constable There’samanbehindyou.
Reg, for God’s sake, it’s perfectly simple. All you’ve got to do is to go out of that door now, and try to stop the Romans’ nailing him up! It’s happening, Reg! Something’s actually happening, Reg! Can’t you understand?!
My brain hurts!
I told him we already had one. Heeheehee.
Well here it is at last … the goal of our quest. After six months and three days we’ve caught up with the legendary walking tree of Dahomey, Quercus Nicholas Parsonus, resting here for a moment, on its long journey south. It’s almost incredible isn’t it, to think that this huge tree has walked over two thousand miles across this inhospitable terrain to stop here, maybe just to take in water before the two thousand miles on to Cape Town, where it lives.