Our next guest tonight has come all the way from Egypt, he’s just flown into London today, he’s Mr Ali Bayan, he’s with us in the studio tonight and he’s stark raving mad.
My brain hurts!
Was the Battle of Trafalgar fought in the Atlantic off southern Spain? Or was it fought on dry land near Cudworth in Yorkshire?
I like a nice dance, you’re forced to.
If you could see your way to lending me sixpence. I could at least buy a newspaper. That’s not much to ask anyone.
But the real question remains. What is the solution, if any, to this problem? What can we do? What am I saying? Why am I sitting in this chair? Why am I on this programme? And what am I going to say next? Here to answer this is a professional cricketer.
My brain hurts!
Wensleydale?
Ah! Stalingrad! Ha ha ha, Heinri…Reginald, you have the wrong map here you silly old leg-before-vicket English person.
He’s that most dangerous of animals, a clever sheep.
There will now be a short intermission.
That was never five minutes.
Good morning, I am a bank robber. Er, please don’t panic, just hand over all your money.
The criminal mind is a strange and contorted one. Good evening. The mind is subject to severe mental stresses. Good evening. Guilt fears abound, good evening. In the subconscious in this state, one of our lads, with a fair training in the black arts can scare the fertilizer out of them.
Dead Indian!
Uh-oh, here comes that wacky queen again!
Hello Sailors! Listen, guess what. The Minister of Aviation has made me head of the RAF Ola Pola.
Mind if we call you Bruce?
I’m not dead yet.
Oh blimey, I’m on. Is me hat on straight constable?