No. 1. The Larch. The… Larch.
Dear Sir, I am writing to complain about that sketch about people failing out of a high building. I have worked all my life in such a building and have never once aaaaaaaaaah!
Oh, oh. I see. I thought, I thought you were the er . … I like the police a lot, I’ve got a lot of time for them.
We’ve got, ah, yes, Sir Walter Raleigh is equipping another expedition to Virginia; he needs traders and sailors. Vittlers needed at the Court of Philip of Spain. Oh, yes, and they want master joiners and craftsmen for the building of the Globe Theatre.
But you know it’s always very easy to blame the big bad rabbit…
Say no more!
Well, he said we should say ‘dog kennels’ instead of saying ‘mattresses’. (Lambert puts bucket on his head)
I’d like to answer this question if I may in two ways. Firstly in my normal voice and then in a kind of silly high-pitched whine.
Well why didn’t it say on his form that he’s a gorilla?
Eric … do you think you could recognize a larch tree?
Well, you’d be surprised, actually sir. The Tudor economy’s booming, ever since Sir Humphrey Gilbert opened up the Northwest passage to Cathay, and the Cabots’ expansion in Canada, there’s been a tremendous surge in exports, and trade with the Holy Roman Empire is going… no, quite right, it’s no good at all.
Burma!
Oh, sorry, mum.
Quiet. Quiet. Now wait a minute. I have already warned this programme about infringing the Army copyright of our slogan ‘It’s a pig’s life… man’s life in the modern army’. And I’m warning you if it happens again, I shall come down on this programme like a ton of bricks… right. Carry on sergeant major.
I distinctly heard a Mexican rhythm combo.
You got a nice army base here, Colonel. We wouldn’t want anything BAD to happen to it.
It’s a dead loss. We haven’t put anyone in a job since 1625.
Listen, tell you what. I’ll file its legs down a bit, take its snout out, stick a few wires through its cheeks. There you are, a lovely pussy cat.
Dirty books, please.
Dear Sir, I object strongly to the obvious lavatorial turn this show has already taken. Why do we never hear about the good things in Britain, like Mary Bignall’s wonderful jump in 1964? Yours etc., Ken Voyeur.