Good evening and welcome to another edition of ‘Storage Jars’. On tonight’s programme Mikos Antoniarkis, the Greek rebel leader who seized power in Athens this morning, tells us what he keeps in storage jars.
What about a pointed stick?
blimey, how time flies. Sadly we are reaching the end of yet another programme and so it is finale time.
Well I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.
What an eccentric performance.
Good evening, and welcome to The Money Programme. Tonight on The Money Programme, we’re going to look at money. Lots of it. On film, and in the studio. Some of it in nice piles, others in lovely clanky bits of loose change. Some of it neatly counted into fat little hundreds, delicate fivers stuffed into bulging wallets, nice crisp clean checks, pert pieces of copper coinage thrust deep into trouser pockets, romantic foreign money rolling against the thigh with rough familiarity, beautiful wayward curlicued banknotes, filigreed copper plating cheek by jowl with tumbly rubbing gently against the terse leather of beautifully balanced bank books
Not ve–… It’s the single most popular cheese in the world!
Well, it’s in perfectly common parlance.
Call the Church Police!
Quiet! Silly person. Guards! Search the house.
Have I got one? Uh, well, no, but I can go down the road any time I want and walk into Harry’s and hold my head up high and say in a loud, steady voice, ‘Harry, I want you to sell me a condom. In fact, today, I think I’ll have a French Tickler, for I am a Protestant.’
Where? Where? What? Ah. Me Tiger. You Jane. Grrr. Beg your pardon, allow me to introduce myself I’m afraid I must ask that no one leave the room.
My brain hurts!
Hello, good evening and welcome to another edition of Blood, Devastation, Death War and Horror, and later on we’ll be meeting a man who does gardening.
But at what cost? (giant animated Siamese cat then swallows building)
Now you may think that this is very harsh behaviour, but let me tell you that our management consultants actually queried the necessity for us to employ a pantomime horse at all.
It’s…
Look, my fine friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express.
Well, would you remember a man six foot nine inches high, fortyish, and he’s got a long scar from here to here and absolutely no nose?
(In German) How does it smell? Awful!