From alt.fan.goons Tue Dec 13 12:22:59 1994 Path: rahul.net!a2i!ddsw1!news.cic.net!news.mci.net!barrnet.net!agate!howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!newsxfer.itd.umich.edu!caen!usenet.coe.montana.edu!netnews.nwnet.net!news.u.washington.edu!pogo!josh From: josh@pogo.cqs.washington.edu (doc) Newsgroups: alt.fan.goons Subject: SCRIPT: "Robin's Post" Date: 12 Dec 1994 18:31:15 GMT Organization: University of Washington, Seattle Lines: 906 Distribution: world Message-ID: <3ci4tj$73p@news.u.washington.edu> Reply-To: josh@pogo.cqs.washington.edu NNTP-Posting-Host: pogo.cqs.washington.edu Keywords: I'm sorry sir, you cannot park that huge bloated Welsh body there At long last, my work is completed. Grams: Ovations, stamping of feet Stop! I present for your edification, as well as your idification, and of course, your undification, a script of the original lantern-slide-type wireless leather Goon show, entitled... Robin's Post Series 6, 6 December 1955 WALLACE This is the BBC. It feareth not, and holdeth forth not, but it keepeth friends with alleth. NED And a ripe twit thou soundest. What's all this 'them them thou' chat? WALLACE Chat? Well, we felt that in strict contrast with the coming brisk clinical commercial radio, we might introduce an olde worlde atmosphere. NED A good answer, now read the statues on this Monogrammed Water Buffaloo. WALLACE In the absence of entertainment we present -- Orchestra: Tatty gong PETER The Great Brown, all the way from mysterious Upper Dicker. No question is too difficult. JIM First question? HARRY (twitt) My name is Gladys Clutt. JIM There is no cure. Next! HARRY (twitt) No, my name is Gladys Clutt spelt with a Masculine G ans in Gee Whizz. PETER I'm his friend. JIM Just stand in this open crocodile and wait for the first spring swallow. NED Who won the Battle of Waterloo? JIM Tom Kretch. NED Wrong! It was Lord Wellington. JIM It's only your word against mine, Jim. Orchestra: Taa raaaaaaa ching (on real old cymbal) PETER (gushing BBC twit announcer) And this week's 'Worker's Playtime' came from a cake-bottling factory in Burton Wood. Now, here is the foreman's name -- NED Tom Hopkin. Grams: Roars of laughter, goats and cows WALLACE That was the sound of the human race -- resignation forms are now available. Now, to certain things -- PETER (Swede) Aye aye to that, sirr. WALLACE The part of the Cornish idiot was played at short notice by a very well-known Cornish idiot player. PETER Har...narnnnnnnnnnn. WALLACE Ta. We present a tragedy -- the story of Lord Seagoon, playboy of the Western Approaches, great lover, man of action, athlete, slob -- and great wit. NED Who's a great twit? Orchestra: dramatic chords Grams: Old time orchestra playing The Lancers in the distance, murmur of the dancers SPIKE Jove, you look lovely tonight, Daphne. PETER Oh, you're just saying that. SPIKE Let's go into the garden. NED Hear that maddening sound of gaiety, music and acting? Huh huh huh...It took place in Robin's Post, my ancestral home at Hailsham, Sussex, S.W.3. Now, it's all gone. G-o-n-e pronounced -- Grams: Spike (pre-recorded) saying very fast 'Goneeeeeeeeeee' NED I was rich, as you will now hear. Grams: Ned (pre-recorded) saying slightly faster than normal 'I was rich' NED This is me now speaking, a ruined, broken, crumbling man, going to pieces. FX: Length of the tubular bell from the tubular bells, let drop on the floor NED There goes another bit. PETER After her, men. NED Her? Yes, it was a woman who brought me this low -- that and short legs. Grams: quack of a duck NED Duck's disease, the curse of the Seagoons. Anyhow, we met years ago. Her name was Penelope, mine was Ned. Why, I can hear her now. PETER (old dear) Hello, Ned dear. NED THERE SHE IS!!!! But let's go back to when it alllll started. It was 1901 and I was holding a masked ball. Grams: surge up the dancers and the music. then down Omnes: odd lines of chatter. 'Gad, she's got a trim ankle', etc. THYNNE (approaches laughing) Ha ha ha, tell me Lord Seagoon, why are you holding that masked ball? NED This is no ordinary ball. THYNNE Don't frighten me, Ned. NED This man was the powerful Lord Thynne, pwer behind the throne, owner of The Times, Peer of the Realm and relief pianist at the Hackney Empire. MORIARTY Tell me, Neddie, what is that ball made from? NED Oh, silly old gold. Grams: Moriarty (pre-recorded) series of screams and yells about gold. take three overlapping tracks. FX: slapstick fast twice THYNNE Steady, Moriarty, it's only gold. Come let's weigh it on this set of scales I happen to have handy...there. Grams: squeak of scales THYNNE Fourteen carrots, three turnips and a mango -- gad, it's worth its weight in greens. NED But what does it mean to me, Lord Thynne, me, a man of means? ECCLES Hello Neddie, Hello Neddie. Ho, phew, I've danced every dance since it started. Lancers, eightsome reels, tango, waltz. NED Who was the lucky girl? ECCLES I didn't bother about them, I did it on my own. I'm not the idiot you think I am. THYNNE Oh, which idiot are you then? ECCLES Ummmmmm, what I mean is, I'm a great thinker. THYNNE For instance? ECCLES For instance, I think...er...I think...I think I'll go home. THYNNE You thought of that all by yourself? ECCLES Well, if you put it like that -- yes. THYNNE Mmmmmm -- time for Conks Geldray. FX: slapstick Max & Orchestra: music MAX That was the music of Conks Geldray, folks. Conks lets in the air. WALLACE Mr. Geldray wishes it known that the Conks Anonymous Club is now open for membership. Part Two of our Tragedy. Grams: Old time music as before. Music stops - polite applause. Laughter of dancers leaving the floor NED Between dances we sat on the balcony smoking port and drinking sherry. THYNNE (aside) Moriarty - stand by the light switch. Now, Ned, let's have a look at the golden ball. Grams: Crackling of electricity. Dancers reaction NED Don't panic, folks. It's only the gas mantles fused - carry on dancing. PETER (Geraldo) What do you mean, man? The boys can't see to play in the dark. NED Come on now, you can busk. PETER Only from music. In the dark we're strictly a load of schmose. NED Nonsense. Hand me an instrument, I'll play. Waltz, please. Orchestra: Drums play waltz tempo NED And so the magic of my waltz rhythm rang through the hall. (Sings) Fertang, fertang, fertang tang tang - but in the rosy light of dawn, I discovered myself sitting in the middle of a field in full evening dress playing the drums. I took immediate action - I stopped playing - Grams: Ned (Pre-recorded) saying normally 'Next dance pleaseeeeeee' NED - I said. WILLIUM (to self) Hello, we got a right twit 'ere. NED Ah, good morning, Constabule. WILLIUM Hello, sonny, lost the band? NED No, someone has stolen Robin's Post, my ancestral home. WILLIUM (slowly) 'Ere, you haven't escaped from anywhere, have you? NED What do you mean? WILLIUM You know - one of them. (Puts finger in mouth - wobbles) Wo wo wo wo. NED I say, how do you do that? WILLIUM Wo wo wo wo. NED Here, let me try...Wow wo wo wo...ha ha ha ha...let's do it together. NED & WILLIUM Wo wo wo wo. NED I say, this IS fun. WILLIUM And it's tax-free, mate. Now, come along, off to the station. Grams: Ned (pre-recorded) protesting 'No no no wo wo (speed up slowly) I'm not wo wo wow - let me go' WILLIUM (over grams) Come on, a few powders and you'll be all right on it. Orchestra: Soft sad long dull chord. Two bar hot break on trombone WALLACE Very puzzling. Part Two. [three? - JAH] FX: rattling iron door NED Let me out of this place! Take this jacket off! (Interrupts behind Wallace) WALLACE Lord Seagoon had been incarcerated in a gentlemen's rest home in Sussex on a charge of going 'Wo wo wo wo wo', illusions of grandeur, and duck's disease. Wow wo wo wo wo - I say, it's not difficult - wo wo wo wo wo. WILLIUM In you go, too. Grams: Iron door slams WALLACE You can't lock me away, I'm from the BBC - wo wo wo wo wo wo. WILLIUM Oh, you're just the right type, mate. Wo wo wo wo 'em, mate. NED It's no good, Wal. We'll plot to get out of here - I'll bake a cake, put a file in it and post it to myself - JIM Parcel for you! NED It's arrived! FX: rapid ripping open NED And here's the file. Now, while I claw a hole in the wall with my bare hands, you cover up the sound by filing through your teeth. FX: filing BLOODNOK I say, are you filing your teeth? WALLACE Yes. BLOODNOK Well, put 'em under "T". NED Bloodnok! How did you get in here? BLOODNOK I have the OBE and a parcel of steamed squids. NED Shut up man - help me dig a tunnel. Grams: digging up rocks by hand BLOODNOK Ohhhhhhhhhhh....Ohhhhhhhhh - NED You've GOT to get rid of these rocks - BLOODNOK I'm eating them as fast as I can! NED & BLOODNOK (grunting) Grams: Rocks being piled WALLACE What are you doing, Mr. Seagoon? NED Twit! I'm trying to tunnel out. BLOODNOK Now, Ned of Wales, Bloodnock of Anywhere will get ou out of this home provided you sign the contract on this boiled egg. NED (dry) Is this contract binding? BLOODNOK A real eye-waterer. Now, let's have your deposit - this set of drums will do - gad, they look in fine military condition. I'll do a parrididdle on 'em. NED Don't you dare!! Orchestra: drums play a military beat. Side drum and undampened bass drum BLOODNOK (over orchestra sings his favourite military melody. All fade into distance) NED He's escaped by military drums. Thank heavens - he's gone. BLOODNOK And thank heavens - he's back again. "The Return of Bloodnok", Part Three. (Acts) Hello, Neddie of Wales. Look, we've all been imprisoned here for wo wo wo and unlawfully detained as retired stud horses. NED Yes, why should we spend the rest of our time here? BLOODNOK True. I mean, I can still pull a cart and whistle the Queen. (whistles tunelessly) NED Look, this is my plan. Grams: series of electronic sounds BLOODNOK Oh. It sounds infallible, when do we start? NED Now. First we must contact a solicitor. Contact. CRUN Contact. Grams: propeller-engined plane roars into life then slurs to a stop CRUN Contact made. Welcome to Whacklow, Futtle, Crun and Bannister - Solicitors for Oaths, Thin Oil and Certain Thingsssssssss. MINNIE Thingsssss! Orchestra: All join in 'Thingsssssssss' CRUN Thingssssssss are catching onnnnnnn, Min. Now Sir, what, apart from your plasticine nose, is the trouble. NED My wife left me. CRUN WHERE did she leave you? NED At home. CRUN What was her name? NED Mrs Seagoon. CRUN So, she's a married woman? There's a clue. Have you a description of her? FX: rustling of plans NED Here's a complete set of plans of her. CRUN These are the plans of a house. NED She's inside. FX: door opens NED Anybody in? RAY (off) Yes, there is. CRUN What is your name, Madam? RAY I can't see, the lights are fused. FX: door closes NED You see? All we have to do is find that house and there she'll be. CRUN Krermunck. Thingssssss...of Mongolia? MINNIE (off) I won't be a second. CRUN Good, there's no money in the boxing game. Min of Mongolia, this man in the mosquito net hat is a new client. NED Now do you do. MINNIE I didn't catch the name. NED (dry) I haven't dropped it yet. FX: tubular bell dropped on stage with a telegraph pole clang NED That's it. MINNIE Mr. Steel, he's coming, he's coming nearer, he's almost here, he's arrived. NED Who? MINNIE Ha ha ha ha. CRUN Now, Ned, that will be a pound. Come and see us in ten guineas' time. NED Have you got change of a hern - no? Then to hell with you. Grams: wolf howl RAY Man, that sounds like my cue and I don't like it, I don't like it at all. The Ray Ellington Quartet: Music WALLACE That was Ray Ellington who is seven feet tall and covered in ginger hair, known in Woodside Park as - 'Gor, look at 'im!'. Part Three of 'Certain Thingssss'. Mr. Thynne - will you summarize? THYNNE The secret of Ned's missing home is simple. We have lifted it lock, stick and birrle on the back of a tank transporter. The dance inside continues. We intend to ransom the more important guests to Eastern Potentates, to be held as political hostages who will become the centre of international political tension at a reduced fee of ten guineas a day until World War Three, or the price of avocado pears is reduced to he ore fourteen minimum. Now for my next impression - Grams: tank transporter rumbling along the road MORIARTY Driving along the king's highwayyyyy. THYNNE Happy, Moriarty? MORIARTY Owwwwwww. THYNNE Look, there's something in the road ahead. MORIARTY It IS a head, with a body attached. BLUEBOTTLE It's mine, Bottle of Finchley. Can you give me a lift to London Town? MORIARTY Go on, hop it. BLUEBOTTLE It's too far to hop it. ECCLES Hullo, Bottle. BLUEBOTTLE Cor, look at him, in brown evening dress. Eccles of Lengths. ECCLES He's OK, Moriarty, he's a friend of mine. Come on. BLUEBOTTLE Ta, Eccles. Here's a cigarette card of Newt, and here's one of a King Edward potato at two months old. ECCLES Oh, just what I need for lunch (Gulps) Ohhhhhh... BLUEBOTTLE I been doing life-guard duties on the Splon beach at Ratsgate. ECCLES I didn't know you could swim in water. BLUEBOTTLE I had to learn to swim at two weeks old. ECCLES Why? BLUEBOTTLE The vicar dropped me in the font. Grams: Splash and bubbles -- BLUEBOTTLE -- I went. My next impression will be of a goose. Grams: Peter (pre-recorded): Screammmmmmm BLUEBOTTLE Ohhh, hello everybody, I didn't see you there. One - two - three...oh, not such a big crowd tonight. (Thinks, panic) Is - is poor Bottle losing the public that has kept him in liquorice and long shorts for all these years? Am I a fallen idol? Another has-been? Nooooo! I shall go on from triumph to triumph. FX: Swanee whistle down, and thud very fast BLUEBOTTLE Oh, my trousers have come down! Never again will I trust knitted string from Freda Milge. ECCLES Never mind, have a brandy. Grams: long pouring from a three gallon tin into a glass, then a long syphon of soda BLUEBOTTLE No thank you. Ringggg-ringgggg-ringgggg - the phoneeeeeee. Hello? NED Hello, Bottle, help me, where is Robin's Post? BLUEBOTTLE It's on a lorry going down the Great North Road. NED You will be rewarded for this with a twill nightie and a spare sock. Gid up! Grams: Dick Barton Theme - then Paul Temple theme - then The Archer's theme - then Mrs. Dale's harp NED It's pick of the flops! With that music behind me and my horse underneath - Grams: Lone Ranger - William Tell theme - goes under-- HERN Yes, a fiery horse, a flash of light, two pounds of potatoes, a sack of kneees and ho Silver and the Lone Ranger. FX: coconut shells NED Gid up, proud beauty. PETER (old dear) All right, dear. THYNNE Ring ring ring in the direction of Ned. NED What's that? It sounds like a telephone. (Tastes) It tastes like a telephone. What number does it taste like? BLOODNOK Hastings 1066. NED That's us. Hello? MORIARTY (distorted) Listen, Neddie, I'm warning you not to follow us. We've had beans for dinner. NED What what what? Arrest that phone, the man on the other end is a criminule. FX: handcuffs and chains on the telephone NED There! Hello? Hello? Blast, he's escaped, this phone is empty. Tarara! BLOODNOK It's near enough for jazz. NED We'll never catch them on a horse. But, just as I said that, folks, and old Indian hooker drew up on a nearby canal. LALKAKA Hello hello hello hello, Mister Man. BANAJEE Yes, Hello. We are Hindu bargees, Lalkaka and Banajee Limited. Here is our card. NED (reading) Jim Hones and Tom Squat, Printers. BANAJEE Yes, they are the men we bought the cards from. LALKAKA We got them second hand. NED Right. Cast offffffff. Orchestra: Open sea music. Shouts of 'Aye the Spon', etc. NED Now, then, who's our navigator? ECCLES I am. NED (panic) Man the boatssss! Neddie and children first! ECCLES Wait a minute...Major. BLOODNOK Let me explain. This man is brilliant at cartography and astral navigation - ask him any question. Eccles did you know that the mouth of the Amazon is one hundred miles wide? ECCLES Oh, yer. BLOODNOK And the coast of Albania is ten thousand miles long? ECCLES Oh, yer. BLOODNOK You see? He knew the answer to both questions. ECCLES Yer, here's a map of the route. NED What's the scale? ECCLES Doh ray me far so la te dooooooo. NED Perfect. (Calls) Set course for Ferpudden! ECCLES What's Ferpudden? NED Prunes and custard. BLUEBOTTLE Wind's coming up. Orchestra: Ta raaaaa BLOODNOK Caught with their instruments down. Ohh, not long to the pay-off now, folks. Now, Neddie, pick a card - don't show it to me. What is it? NED Jim Jones and Tom Squat, Printers. BLOODNOK Correct. JIM Heloo, Jim, hello Jimmmmmm. NED Helooooo Jim. JIM Look what I found floating in the canal - the pay-off. NED It's the front door of Robin's Post. FX: door opens Grams: old fashioned orchestra - as beginning of story - sound of dancers NED Stop the music! Grams: slow music down to a blur NED Where's my wife, Bulgarian Meg? Ahhh - Meggggg - kis kis kis kisssss. RAY There MUST be some mistake. PETER (Meg the Bulgar) Neddie, Neddie darling, your back - your front - you brought them both with you. NED I carry them for sentimental reasons - I - Grams: Great avalanche of rocks NED She's fainted. Peter (doctor) Stand aside, I'm a doctor, I specialize in fainting. Groannnnnn. FX: body falls to ground NED So he does. THYNNE Neddie, you disrespectful swine - standing there with two fainted people - take your shoes off. Grams: two small explosions THYNNE Do you have to wear such loud socks? NED Yes, I've got deaf feat. THYNNE Yes, folks, exploding socks - it's the new noise clothes. Why not get your grannie a pair of red flannel drawers that go -- Grams: great cackling of startled hens WALLACE And with Lord Seagoon's wife safely fainted, and a good laugh on a pair of cackling drawers, we say farewell from page thirteen of another Goon Show. BLOODNOK Is there no end to it! Ohhhhhh! Orchestra: Old Comrade's March Josh Hayes josh@cqs.washington.edu Disc Golf Page: http://www.cqs.washington.edu/~josh/discgolf.html Now, unlock your wigs, let the air out of your shoes, and prepare for a period of simulated exhiliration (Paul Webster - 23-Jun-2004 - changed references to Mate to Willium)