Monty Pythonesque Skit – The Game!

This got eaten by the outage last week, and I thought it deserved a return engagement – I want to see brilliantly funny skits, Goddamn it! Get cracking, you! :smiley:

It’s the Monty Python esque game. The challenge – to segue, or just swerve absurdly from skit to skit!

The rules:

  1. There aren’t any!
  2. You must refer (at least) to the previous skit!
  3. There are so rules!
  4. British accent mandatorily optional!
  5. No animatory padding!
    Here’s the starter skit:

[Iampunha chides Ace0Spades for thinking Kilts were out at the upcoming dopefest]

:: further off-voice, shouting :: We did that last yeearr!!

:: far-off voice :: Oh. Quite right. Then should we tar him or feather him?!

:: further off-voice:: It’s not either/or, you gittt!

:: far-off voice :: Whattt?!

:: further-off voice :: That’s what I keep telling you. It can be annnnd!!

:: far-off voice :: That’s ridiculous. It’s tarring or feathering!

:: further off-voice, shouting :: The feathering, it doesn’t work so…

:: far-off voice, interrupting:: What?!

:: further-off voice :: The feathering! It! Doesn’t!

:: far-off voice, interrupting:: I say, I can’t hear you! Use the PA system!

[Pause, many clicks]

:: further-off voice :: ** Hello! Up with the queen, down with people, vegemite sandwich 1-2-3-4! Ah, Much better! Like I was saying, we tried just the feathering during my tenure with the Liverpool Mob and it was totally ineffective! And we didn’t have to yell across the hills, either! And isn’t it time we used something modern to talk, like smoke signals or passenger doves, or the like? :: **

:: Homebly Weatherspire :: **What Vegemite-Dove Sandwich?!? I’m sorry, did you dial Homer6000 or Homer5000? **

:: further-off voice :: **What? Yes! No! None! First of all, I was addressing that loud git from lower pemberton, and secondly, secondly I don’t even believe, even if I were on a phone, which I most certainly am not, since they do not generally involve loudspeakers, there would still be no such number as Homer6000… **

:: Homebly Weatherspire, interrupting :: Or Homer5000…

:: further-off voice :: **Yes–neither! I mean, you impostor! Snoop! Prankster! Quit pretending you’re Homer6000, which isn’t even a real phone number! AND, if you’re going to lie, don’t pretend to be a cartoon death machine, you dim bulb!! **

:: Homebly Weatherspire, interrupting :: **Dim bulb? Listen, at least I know what a passenger dove isn’t! ** :: rings off ::

:: further-off voice :: There’s no passenger pigeon! Who would want to receive a love note from a bloody passenger pigeon! I’ll tell you who the pigeon is! It’s you! Get off the line, you bloody impostor, I want to speak to Homer6000, I mean, I don’t!

[Two quick clicks]

:: Homer5000, mechanically :: Hello, This. Is. Homer. 5000.

:: further-off voice :: Oh, for the love of bloody christ! These party lines are insane! Listen, I don’t want to speak to Homer 5000, or 6000, or any of the little thousands! I want to speak to the bloke from lower pemberton! About the tarring or feathering!

:: Homer5000:: [Whirrs] It’s tarring. and. feathering.

:: further-off voice :: That’s what I said! And feathering, any fool knows it’s And-Or feathering, that’s what I need to speak to the bloke from north pemberton about!

:: Homer5000 :: [Whirrs for some time]

Is this. About. The. Kilt?

:: further-off voice :: **Yes! Yes! The Kilt! The Feathering! Or the Tarring! Now you’ve got it! **

:: Homer5000 :: [Whirrs] Trans-ferr-ing.

:: further-off voice :: Thank goodness for technology. Hello, lower-northern pemberton mob? Hello, hello?

[Long pause, hold music]

[three clicks]

:: Homer6000, slightly mechanical yet modulated, british accent :: Yes, hello there, and welcome to the Homer6000 death system. Please punch in your social security, using your touch-tone phone, now!

:: further-off voice :: WHAT?! I don’t WANT any death! I want the bloke from lower-north-southerly pemberton! And I’m ON A BLOODY LOUDSPEAKER!!

:: Homer6000 :: I’m sorry! I did not get your entry! Punch in your social security, using your touch-tone phone, now!

:: further-off voice :: You hopped-up timex sinclair! Ring off! [Homer6000: I’m Sorry, I still did not get your entry!] Here, here, beep boop boopity beep c-sharp fucking beep! Ha!

:: Homer6000 :: [Whirrs for some time] Thank you for using the Homer6000 death system! Your order, Death by Tarring but not Feathering will arrive Jan. 3rd or whenever we damn please! Thanks again for using HOMER6000!

:: further-off and far-off voice together :: [Anguished screams]


You forgot rule #6!

Rule #6: There is NO! rule number 6
Very proper british man in bowler walking through the streets of london. Along with his neatly folded overcoat and 'brelly he carries a rough cloth sack. As he walks along he passes and breifly stares at the little old “it’s” man enthusiastically stomping a bull horn as used in the last skit. He frowns puzzled and shakes his head and continues on finally entering an unremarkable store front labeled “Pet Shop”

Scene: A pet shop.

Man (entering): Hello, miss?

Clerk (male): What do you mean miss?

Man: I’m sorry, my friend who told me about the shop had a cold.

Clerk (suspiciously): Can I help you?

Man: I wish to register a complaint.

Clerk: A complaint?

Man: Yes, I wish to complain about this badger what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.

Clerk: A what?

Man: A badger! this badger to be exact. (takes very flat badger out of a sack)

Clerk (pointing): That’s a badger!

Man: Precisely! Now about my complaint! You see this badger is dead.

Clerk: Well I can see that. (grabs badger and turns it around so the camera can see the tire tracks.) It’s been run down by a lorry.

Man: Not so, Not so! When I left here not an hour ago he was the liveliest badger you’d hope to see. Frisking about like nobodies business. Then I got him home and he suddenly came over all flat.

Clerk: You’re a loony. Look I’ve been here all day and I never saw you in the shop.

Man: I was helped by the other young lady.

Clerk (with warning gesture): Look we’ll have no more of that, alright!

Man: Sorry but from behind you looked . . .

Clerk: Never mind about that! You did not buy that badger in this store did you?

Man(looking guilty): I’ve got a recipt.

Clerk: Let me see. (takes paper) This is written in crayon . . .

Man: It was all she could find to write with.

Clerk: and is it signed, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret”

Man (aside): I thought she looked familiar.

Clerk: Did you say your friend had a cold?

Man: Yes but I don’t see what . . .

Clerk (aside): I knew I never should have given a refund for that parrot.
(to Man) Look, you found that badger in the street and brought it in here to try and get me to give you money for it. Admit it.

Man: Actually I was hoping for an exchange. I’ll settle for a squirrel, providing its good with children.

Clerk: I’m sorry but we don’t stock squirrels.

Man: Polecats?

Clerk: No, no polecats.

Man: Two voles and a gold fish?

Clerk(thinking about it): Do you promise to go away?

Man: Immediately

Clerk(getting a box from under the counter): Right! Let’s have the badger. (after receiving badger) Two voles and a gold fish as requested.

Man: Good day (leaves)

Cut to scene outside with long line of various sorts carrying a variety of well-used animals. We see Man exit the shop with his box as the next customer enters carrying a stoat with a nail through it. The camera follows the line of prospective “customers” around the corner where we see John as the last person in line seated at a desk stroking the front half of a fox while the back half sits a foot or so away near the edge of the desk. After cooing at the fox for a few seconds John notices the camera and says, “ and now for something completely different.”

Cut to: A Gay Singles Bar

Homer5000 meets Homer6000. Lust at first sight!

Cut to: An Chevy Impala, Licence plate: TAN-D-SCKS

The Homer’s get in, get busy, and steam up the windows.

Cut to: Marriage – The aisle full of big-iron.

Cut to: Homer5000 cooking, Commodore 64’s, and a Mac Lisa scurry underfoot.

Homer6000 closes the door of the den, opens a beer and turns on the TV. Some fund-raising drive is on. Cast members in drag are answering the phones.

Eric: 100 Dollars! Thank you for supporting wankery of the arts!

John: My script says “Performing arts.”

Eric: Putayto, PuTAHto. It’s still money from suckers.

John: Oh fine. Hello? You’d like to donate a car? What kind? A Chevy Impala!! Almost mint condition!!! Wonderful! – Thank you for supporting the performing arts!

Eric: Yes, Hello? You’d like to donate a lawn mower!!! Sure, that’s hard currency at PBS – sure, a bunch of flautist…stists need their lawn mowed – Thank you for supporting wank-ery of the arts!

John, eyes rolling at Eric, picks up a third phone ::You’d like to donate the change found in your couch?! Good lord man, that’s a gold mine! Yes, yes, send the whole couch in – we’ve got native couch divers who will harvest the couch bottom. Right, boys!? :: gives thumbs up to loin-cloth wearing natives, who are enmeshed in a green couch. They all give thumbs-up ::

:: Screen pulls back to reveal cars, couches, pianos, a jetski, and a chandelier piled up behind the phone bank ::

Eric, grabbing a new phone :: Hello? You’d like to donate two voles and a gold fish?!? [Drops the other two phones, and starts screaming into the third] Just what sort of dumpster service do you think we run here at… PBS! Listen, are you the same bloke who tried to pledge a flattened badger last week?! That’s it! Oh, you dare me to do my worst, do you?!

:: Eric presses a button on the side of the phone that says UPN9. Theme song for “The Parkers” starts playing ::

:: From the phone, anguished screams ::