But what’s this? Two spectators have rushed onto the pitch with spoons and forks… what are they going to do?
We’ll be showing you more of that photograph later in the programme… unless we hear from Charles or Michael.
Oh dear, what’s he been telling you now?
I’ll bet she does, I’ll bet she does!
No, it’s all right, sir. We don’t morally censure, we just want the money.
Ahhh yes, that’s better. Now let’s hope this doesn’t get silly.
What’s that penguin doing on the telly?
'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
Told you so.
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lavatree.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin’
And have buttered scones for tea.
This man is Ernest Scribbler… writer of jokes. In a few moments, he will have written the funniest joke in the world… and, as a consequence, he will die … laughing.
Run away!
And now for something completely different.
It’s…
You’re a looney.
I’m not really a gorilla.
ANIMATION: Wilson and Heath dance to ‘The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’.
Cut to the nude organist; he plays a chord.
Cut to the announcer at his desk.
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.
Dad… it’s the man from ‘The Hay Wain’ by Constable to see you.
My brain hurts!