Oh, I’m sorry, just one moment. Is this a five minute argument or the full half hour?
Makes you feel so, sort of, insignificant, doesn’t it?
Constable Clitoris ate one of ‘em not ‘alf an hour ago.
You are hereby charged that you did willfully take part in a strange sketch, that is, a skit, spoof or humorous vignette of an unconventional nature with intent to cause grievous mental confusion to the Greater British Public.
My wife’s name is not Pat at all.
And now on BBC another six minutes of Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
Here comes that wacky Queen again!
This is the planet Algon, fifth world in the system of Aldebaran, the Red Giant in the constellation of Sagittarius. Here an ordinary cup of drinking chocolate costs four million pounds, an immersion heater for the hot-water tank costs over six billion pounds, and a pair of split-crotch panties would be almost unobtainable.
I won’t madam. I just want to come in and ransack the flat. Honestly.
Yes, tell me more about your problem.
The Reverend Ronald Simms, the Dirty Vicar of St Michael’s … ooh!
But our sales would plummet!
Yes, well you see, they’ve dragged in all this irrelevant mush…
Quick! Ring up the Unexploded Scotsman Squad!
It’s…
I think I’ll go for a walk.
I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but I’m afraid my walk has become rather sillier recently, and so it takes me rather longer to get to work.
I am not a loony.
You must be out of your tiny mind.
Dad… it’s the man from ‘The Hay Wain’ by Constable to see you.