Good evening. My name is Leapy Lee. No, sorry. That’s the name of me favorite singer.
Where’s the john?
Stand and deliver.
In a way, in a way … hum … moping, I must remember that.
I know you’re trying to help but believe me, my mind’s made up. I’ve given this long and careful thought. And it’s medical experiments for the lot of you…
It’s…
Blimey, whatever did I give the wife?
Right. I’ve got some of your prescriptions here. Er, who’s got the pox? … Come on, who’s got the pox … come on … there you go. Who’s got a boil on the bum… boil on the botty…
Doug and Bob are metropolitan policemen with a difference. Doug likes
nothing more than slipping into little cocktail frocks, while Bob bouffants
his hair for a night on duty. Still, as the art immace, no one gives their
last names.
What…is the capital of Assyria?
We were out strolling across a fiord one day when one of the local matadors came out of his tree house and flung a lot of old scimitars and guillotines out that he’d got cluttering up his wine cellar and apparently rather a large proportion of them landed on my wife causing her to snuff it without much more ado.
Do you know I still wet my bed?
Ken was a mounted policeman… with a difference.
Yes, they’re the ones. I’m sure.
Hello and welcome to ‘Election Night Special’. There’s great excitement here as we should be getting the first results through any minute now. We don’t know where it’ll be from…it might be Leicester or from Luton. The polling’s been quite heavy in both areas… oh, wait a moment…I’m just getting…I’m just getting a loud buzzing noise in my left ear. Excuse me a moment.
And one other small point. Why is it that these new lurex dancing tights go baggy at the knees after only a couple of evenings’ fun? Bring back the old canvas ones I say.
This is where Mrs. Shazam was so wrong. Exploding is a perfectly normal medical phenomenon. In many fields of medicine nowadays, a dose of dynamite can do a world of good. For instance, athlete’s foot - an irritating condition - can be cured by applying a small charge of TNT between each toe.
Allo, dappy English k-niggets and Monsieur Arthur King, who has the brain of a duck, you know. So, we French fellows outwit you a second time!
Now, old woman! You are accused of heresy on three counts. Heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action. Four counts. Do you confess?
But soon the killer sheep began to infect other animals with its startling intelligence. Pussy cats began to arrange mortgages, cocker spaniels began to design supermarkets…