Neddie Seagoon

Harry Secombe

Yakamoto

Max Geldray

Bluebottle

Peter Sellers

Eidelburger

Peter Sellers

Grytpype Thynne

Peter Sellers

Gwendoline

Peter Sellers

Major Dennis Bloodnok

Peter Sellers

Mr Henry Crun

Peter Sellers

Eccles

Spike Milligan

Garkon [Throat]

Spike Milligan

Hotel Manager

Spike Milligan

Miss Minnie Bannister

Spike Milligan

Moriarty

Spike Milligan

Museum Custodian

Wallace Greenslade

GREENSLADE:

This is the BBC \Home Service\.

GRAMS:

WAILING. [OUTBREAK OF PEOPLE SIGHING]

GREENSLADE:

Oh, come, come {, come, come}, dear listeners. {You know,} it's not that bad.

SECOMBE:

Of course not! Come, Mr. Greenslade, tell them the good news.

GREENSLADE:

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have the extraordinary talking type wireless "Goon Show".

GRAMS:

CROWD SCREAMING AND STAMPEDING.

SECOMBE:

Mmm. Is the popularity waning? Hmmph.

MILLIGAN:

Oh ho ho {ho ho!} Fear not, Neddie lad! We'll jolly them up with a merry laughing type joke show. Stand prepared for the story of "Napoleon's Piano". {Ho ho ho ho!}

ORCHESTRA:

Piano and horns mood setting music. [VERY OLD RECORD OF A PIANO SOLO (MARSEILLAISE)]

SEAGOON:

Napoleon's Piano. The story starts in the bad old days \, back in April 1955\. It was early one morning, and breakfast had just been served at Beauliegh Manor, and I was standing at the window, looking in. With the aid of a telescope I was reading the paper on the breakfast table, when suddenly an advertisement caught my eye. It said:

GRYTPYPE:

(bassy, echoey[distort]) Will pay anybody five pounds to remove piano from one room to another. Apply: The Bladders, Harpiapipe, {The} Quants.

SEAGOON:

In needle nardle noo time I was at the address, and with the aid of a piece of iron and a lump of wood, I made this sound:

FX:

KNOCKS FIVE TIMES ON DOOR [SOLID OAK].

MORIARTY:

Sapristi knockoes! When I heard that sound I ran down [the] stairs, and with the aid of a doorknob and two hinges I made this sound:

FX:

DOOR HANDLE TURNS, DOOR CREAKS OPEN.

SEAGOON:

Ah! Good morning!

\MORIARTY:

Good morning? Just a moment...\

\FX:

TELEPHONE PICKED UP, DIALING.\

\MORIARTY:

Hello? Air Ministry roof? [Weather] Report... yes? yes? Thank you.\

\FX:

TELEPHONE HUNG UP.\

\MORIARTY:

You're perfectly right: it is a good morning.\

SEAGOON:

\Thank[s] {you}.\ My name is Neddie Seagoon.

MORIARTY:

What a memory you have!

SEAGOON:

Needle nardle noo! I've, er... I've come to move the piano.

MORIARTY:

[Laughs maniacally, stopping suddenly] Come in.

SEAGOON:

[Laughs similarly, but longer, stopping just as suddenly] Thanks.

MORIARTY:

You must excuse {my filthy hands but I've just been washing my face} [the mess but we've got the Socialists in].

GRYTPYPE:

(Off) [Oh] Moriarty?

{MORIARTY:

Yes?}

GRYTPYPE:

(Now here) Can I borrow your shoe? [Mine's worn out] {I want to read the paper.}

{MORIARTY:

I'm sorry it's on...}

GRYTPYPE:

{(interrupts)} Oh, {we appear to} [you] have company.

MORIARTY:

[Ahh ah - these three men are called Neddie Seagoon. He's] {Ha ha ha ha ha. This gentleman has} come in answer to {y}our ad{vertisement}.

GRYTPYPE:

Oh, {how lovely!} Come in, sit down.

{SEAGOON:

Thank you.}

GRYTPYPE:

Have a gorilla.

SEAGOON:

No thanks... I'm trying to give them up.

GRYTPYPE:

Splendid {for you}! Now, Neddie, here's the money for moving the piano. There {you are:} five pounds in fivers.

SEAGOON:

Five pounds for moving a piano? Ha ha! This is money for old rope.

GRYTPYPE:

Is it? I['d have] thought you'd have bought something more useful.

SEAGOON:

No, no. I have simple tastes... Now, where is this piano?

GRYTPYPE:

{All in good time, laddie.

MORIARTY:

arwl arwl arwl

GRYTPYPE:

Now} [Just a moment.] first,[would]{will} you sign this contract, in which you guarantee to move the piano from one room to another for five pounds.

SEAGOON:

Of course I'll sign. Have you any ink?

GRYTPYPE:

Here's a fresh bottle.

SEAGOON:

(gulp) [ahhhhhhh] Gad!, I was thirsty.

MORIARTY:

Sapristi [knockoes] {indelible!} Do you always drink ink?

SEAGOON:

Only in the mating seasons.

\MORIARTY:

Shall we dance?\

\GRAMS:

WALTZ [1929 LOMBARDO RECORD OF 'LOVER' WALTZ].\

\SEAGOON:

You dance divinely.\

GRYTPYPE:

\Next dance please.\ Now Neddie, please just sign the contract [on the side of this horse].

SEAGOON:

Certainly.

FX:

[SCRIBBLES] [SCRATCHING OF PEN UNDER SEAGOON AS THE SPEAKS NEXT LINE].

SEAGOON:

Neddie Seagoon. A G G

MORIARTY:

What's A G G for?

SEAGOON:

For the kiddies to ride on. {(blows raspberry, laughs)} [get it? A gee-gee - ha ha ha ha]

[(agonised silence)]

GRYTPYPE:

{Are} you['re] sure you won't have a gorilla?

SEAGOON:

No thanks, I've just put one out.

{GRYTPYPE:

I see.}

SEAGOON:

Now, which room is this piano in?

GRYTPYPE:

{It's } Ahemm... It's in the Louvre.

SEAGOON:

Strange [place to put a piano] {taste you have}.

GRYTPYPE:

We refer to the Louvre Museum [, Paris].

SEAGOON:

What what what what {what what what what what what? You mean the piano's in Paris}?

{GRYTPYPE:

Yes.}

SEAGOON:

{Ahhh!} I've been tricked! Yahhahh!

FX:

THUD [OF BODY HITTING FLOOR.]

MORIARTY:

For the benefit of people without television... he's fainted.

GRYTPYPE:

Don't waste time. Open his jacket..

{MORIARTY:

Right!}

GRYTPYPE:

[get] {..and take} the weight of his [cruel] wallet off his chest.

{MORIARTY:

Aha!}

\GRYTPYPE:

[mmm] Found anything [in his pockets]?\

\MORIARTY:

Yes. A signed photograph of Neddie Seagoon, a press cutting from the theatre, Bolton, a gramophone record of Gigli mowing the lawn, {and} a photograph of Gigli singing [and a half share in Kim Novak].\

GRYTPYPE:

He's still out cold. See if this brings him round.

FX:

COIN DROPPED ON FLOOR.

SEAGOON:

Thank you lady. (Sings) Comrades, comrades, ever since {we were boys. Sharing}... (Stops singing) {Ah oh ooh} oh [where] {ooh!} Where am I?

GRYTPYPE:

England.

SEAGOON:

What number?

GRYTPYPE:

Seven A. Have a gorilla.

SEAGOON:

No, they hurt my throat.

{GRYTPYPE:

Oh, naughty gorillas.}

SEAGOON:

Wait! Now I remember... You've trapped me into bringing back a piano from France for only five pounds.

GRYTPYPE:

You signed the contract, Neddie. Now get that piano (voice changes to Lew's) or we sue you for breach of contract.

SEAGOON:

Owww! (going off)

FX:

DOOR KNOB, DOOR CLOSES.

GRYTPYPE:

Gad, Moriarty! If he brings that piano back we shall be {well} in the money. That piano must be worth {at least} ten thousand pounds.

MORIARTY:

How do you know?

GRYTPYPE:

I've seen its bank book. [Do you know] That is the very piano Napoleon played at Waterloo.

{MORIARTY:

No wonder we lost.}

GRYTPYPE:

{Yes.} With [the] {all that} moolah [we get on that] we can have a {wonderful slap-up} holiday.

GRYTPYPE & MORIARTY:

(sing) April in Paris, we've found a Charlie...

GREENSLADE:

I say! Poor Neddie must have been at his wit's end. Faced with the dilemma of having to bring Napoleon's Piano back from Paris he went to the Foreign Office for advice on passports and visas.

FX:

THROUGHOUT THIS SCENE, A PIECE OF METAL IS DROPPED ON THE FLOOR RANDOMLY.[BITS AND PIECES DROPPING DOWN].

[CRUN & BANNISTER:

(Nattering away]

[CRUN:

Ohh dee dee - dee, X9?]

[BANNISTER:

(off) X9 answering - who's that calling buddy?]

[CRUN:

It's me - the Foreign Secretary. Do you know where the key to the secret documents is?]

[BANNISTER:

Yes - it's with the charlady.]

[CRUN:

Do you think that's wise - she has access to all the vital British secret documents.]

[BANNISTER:

She can't read them buddy, she only speaks Russian.]

[CRUN:

That's a bit of luck -]

FX:

KNOCKING ON DOOR.

BANNISTER:

{Mnaw!} Oh! That [might be one of England's strolling Prime ministers of no fixed abode] {must be the Prime Minister at the door}.

{CRUN:

Yes, that must be the Prime Minister.}

BANNISTER:

Coming \, Antony. Coming\.

CRUN:

{Yes... } Tell him we're very sorry.

BANNISTER:

Sorry for what {, Henry?}

CRUN:

[Oh, mmm] {Well.. well.. well..} make something up {-- anything will do, it doesn't matter.}

[FX:

DOOR OPENS.]

BANNISTER:

[Ahh,] We're very sorry \, Antony\. Oh ohhhhh oh!

{CRUN:

Oh! }

BANNISTER:

{You're n..} You're not the Prime Minister.

SEAGOON:

Not yet, but it's just a matter of time. My name is Neddie Seagoon.

CRUN:

Do you want to buy a White Paper?

SEAGOON:

No thanks. I'm trying to give them up.

CRUN:

{Oh.} So are we.

SEAGOON:

{(clears throat)} I want a few particulars. You see, I want to leave the country.

CRUN:

He's going to Russia!

{BANNISTER:

Stop him!}

CRUN:

Stop him! [Min get him!]

[BANNISTER:

Hit him, Hen ...]

GRAMS:

FIGHTING SOUNDS, WITH BUGLE SOUNDING ATTACK. CRUN & BANNISTER YELL, WHILE SEAGOON SHOUTS "I SAY, I SAY!" ECCLES SAYS "OH, HERE ERE ERE ERE" [STOPS SUDDENLY]

{SEAGOON:

Are you threatening me?}

CRUN:

[There! let that be a lesson to you -] {Now} get out!

SEAGOON:

I will... but not before I hear musical saboteur Max Geldray.

INTERVAL:

MAX PLAYS: "AIN'T MISBEHAVING"

(applause)

GREENSLADE:

Seagoon was confused {- he's not the only one.} It seems that {with no more than a fiver,} the cheapest [method of getting] {way} to Paris was to stow-away [to France] on board a Channel steamer.

GRAMS:

SHIP'S BELL, SEAGULLS.[WASH OF SHIPS WAKE]

SEAGOON:

Down in the dark hold I lay. Alone... so I thought.

ECCLES:

(sings) I talk to the trees... that's why they put me away... (continues singing under:)

SEAGOON:

The singer was a tall ragged idiot

{ECCLES:

(sings) ragged idiot}

SEAGOON:

He carried a plasticine gramophone and wore a metal trilby.

ECCLES:

{(sings) ...metal tril.. oh! (stops singing)} Hello, shipmate {of mine}. Where are you a'goin' {of}?

SEAGOON:

Nowhere. I think it's safer to stay [on]{in} the ship until we reach Calais.

ECCLES:

{Yeah... Hey!} You goin' to Calais?

SEAGOON:

Yes.

ECCLES:

What a coincidence -- that's where the ship's going. Ain't you lucky! {Everything's goin to be fine fine ... fine...}

SEAGOON:

Here! Have a gorilla.

ECCLES:

Oh! Thanks.

GRAMS:

TWO GORILLAS FIGHTING UNDER:

ECCLES:

Oww! Oww! Ooh! Oww! (growling stops) Hey! These gorillas are strong. {Here,} have one of my monkeys -- they're milder.

SEAGOON:

And so for the rest of the voyage we sat quietly smoking our monkeys. At Calais I left the idiot singer. By sliding down the ship's rope, in French, I avoided detection {and made for the Louvre}. Late that night I checked into a French hotel. Next morning, I sat in my room eating my breakfast, when suddenly through the window a fork on the end of a long pole appeared. It tried to spear my kipper.

BLOODNOK:

{Oh-ho!} [(off) (Strained). Aeiough.]

SEAGOON:

Who the blazes are you sir?

BLOODNOK:

Ah-ah-oh! I'm sorry. I was... {ummm...} fishing.

SEAGOON:

Fishing? {Fishing?} This is the thirty-fourth floor.

BLOODNOK:

Oh. The... {ummm...} river must have dropped.

SEAGOON:

Who are you, sir?

BLOODNOK:

I've got it on a bit of paper here. {Let's have a look...} oh yes! Major Dennis Bloodnok, late of the third Disgusting Fusiliers OBE, MT, MT [MT, MT] and MT.

SEAGOON:

What are all those MTs for?

BLOODNOK:

I get tuppence on each of them. Ohh! {I'm in condition tonight. Ohhh!}

SEAGOON:

You're acting suspiciously suspicious. I've a good mind to call the manager.

BLOODNOK:

Call him. I am unafraid.

SEAGOON:

(considers) No. Why should I call him?

BLOODNOK:

Then I will. (calls) Manager?

FX:

DOOR OPENS.

MANAGER:

(Milligan: French accent) Oui, monsieur?

BLOODNOK:

Throw this man out!

SEAGOON:

Owww!

FX:

DOOR SLAMS.

BLOODNOK:

Now for breakfast. [see,] Kippers? Toast? [de da dee dee] {Oh yes! Wait?} What's this coming through the window? Flatten me krurker and nosh me schlappers! It's a fork on a pole... and it's trying to take me kipper off me plate! {Ohhhhhh!} I say! Who is that?

SEAGOON:

I'm sorry, I was just fishing.

BLOODNOK:

What [,you] ?! I've a good mind to call the manager.

SEAGOON:

Go on then, call him.

BLOODNOK:

No{... no}, why should I?

SEAGOON:

Then I'll call him. (aside) Watch me turn the tables, listeners {huh a ha ha}. (calls) Manager?

FX:

DOOR OPENS.

MANAGER:

Oui monsieur?

BLOODNOK:

Throw this man out of my room!

SEAGOON:

Ahhhh!

FX:

DOOR SLAMS.

SEAGOON:

Alone in Paree... I went down to the notorious Cafe Tom, proprietor: Maurice Ponk.

\GRAMS:

[SOUS LES TOITS DE PARIS] CLARINET AND PIANO PLAY IN CLUB ENVIRONMENT.\

SEAGOON:

\Inside the air was filled with gorilla smoke.\ I was looking for a man who might specialise in piano robberies from the Louvre.

FX:

WHOOSH!

EIDELBURGER:

(Sellers: German accent) Good evening. You are looking for a man who might specialise in piano robberies from the Louvre.

SEAGOON:

How do you know?

EIDELBURGER:

I was listening on the radio and I heard you say it.

SEAGOON:

Good. [pull up a chair] Sit down.

EIDELBURGER:

No thank you -- {I am naked} [I'd rather stand].

SEAGOON:

[Very well, stand on a chair] Garkon?

GARKON:

(Spike: Throat) Oui?

SEAGOON:

Two glasses of English, port-type cooking sherry [and vite].

[GARKON:

Two glasses of sherry and vite coming up] {Oui}.

SEAGOON:

Now... [name?]

[EIDELBURGER:

I am Justin Eidelburger.]

SEAGOON:

[Oh.] have a gorilla.

EIDELBURGER:

No thanks -- I only smoke baboons.

{SEAGOON:

Good show!}

{EIDELBURGER:

Yes. Babboon show!}

{GRAMS AND AUDIENCE:

RIOTOUS CHEERING.}

{EIDELBURGER:

Thank you. Thank you, and now back to the plot.}

SEAGOON:

{Yes!} This piano we must steal, it's the one Napoleon played at Waterloo.

EIDELBURGER:

{Steal?} That will be a very sticky job.

SEAGOON:

Why?

EIDELBURGER:

It's just been varnished. Ho ho ho! The German joke, {ja? Huh?}

SEAGOON:

{Ha ha ha.} The English silence.

EIDELBURGER:

Now, Mr Sneezegroin. Meet me outside the Louvre at midnight on the stroke of two.

SEAGOON:

[Right] {What time?}

{EIDELBURGER:

When the clock strikes twenty past twelve. Bob an' Alf veederzoin.}

SEAGOON:

{Veederline.} True to my word I was there dead on three.

EIDELBURGER:

You are late.

SEAGOON:

I'm sorry, my legs were slow.

EIDELBURGER:

You [must] {will have to} buy another pair. \Zis here is my oriental assistant Yakamoto.\

\YAKAMOTO:

(Geldray: Japanese accent) {Ah!} I am very honoured to meet you. {Why, I don't know.} Oh, boy!\

\SEAGOON:

What does this oriental creep know about piano thieving?\

EIDELBURGER:

\Nothing. He is just here to lend colour to the scene.\ Now Neddie, this is the map plan of the Louvre and the surrounding streets.

FX:

PAPER UNFOLDING. CONTINUES UNDER: (FOR A WHOLE MINUTE)

SEAGOON:

{Now...} you take one end {of this map... That's right... unfold it... That's the way... aha... mmm... that's right... there we go... yes... mmm hmmm... keep going... yes...} It's big, isn't it?

EIDELBURGER:

(far off) Yes, it is. This bit here shows the Rue de la Paix.

SEAGOON:

Good heavens, you're miles away! Walk straight up that street, take the second on the left, {and} I'll be waiting for you.

GRAMS:

CAR DRIVING UP AT SPEED, THEN SCREECHING TO A STOP.

EIDELBURGER:

I took a taxi -- it was too far. Now we disperse and meet again in the Hall of Mirrors, when the clock strikes twinge. At midnight we strike.

GRAMS:

BIG BEN STRIKING AT VARYING SPEED. {TEN} [TWELVE] TIMES

SEAGOON:

Shhhh

EIDELBURGER:

Is that you, Seagoon?

SEAGOON:

{No, it was the clock.} [Yes] {\Where's Tom Yakamoto?\}

EIDELBURGER:

{\He's gone to the Clochemerle.\} [Good].

FX:

HANDBELL RINGING.

CUSTODIAN:

(Greenslade: French accent) Everybody out! Closing time! [everyone back to zere own bed]

SEAGOON:

Quick! Hide behind this pane of glass.

EIDELBURGER:

But you can see through it.

SEAGOON:

Not if you close your eyes.

EIDELBURGER:

{Gefine} geblungen! You are right! Are all your family clever?

SEAGOON:

Only the crustaceans.

CUSTODIAN:

Everybody out, and that goes for you idiots with your eyes shut behind the sheet of glass.

SEAGOON:

You fool -- you can't see us.

CUSTODIAN:

Yes, I can -- get out or I call the police.

EIDELBURGER:

You anti-Bismark swine! I shoot [you].

SEAGOON:

No, {no!} Not through the glass, you'll break it. First I'll make a hole in it.

{EIDELBURGER:

Good!}

FX:

GLASS BREAKING.

SEAGOON:

{There...} now shoot through that.

FX:

GUNSHOT.

CUSTODIAN:

{Oh.} You've killed me. {Foutre a la porte. You will get me} [now I'll get] ze sack. Oho! Oh. Oh I die. {I fall to ze ground. Oh oohh I die } [killed by death!].

{OMNES:

boo and hiss him.}

SEAGOON:

Never mind, {Walter}. Swallow this tin of Lifo, guaranteed to return you to life. \Recommended by all corpses and Wilfred Pickles.\ Forward Ray Ellington [and his music]!

INTERVAL:

RAY ELLINGTON & QUARTET "DON'T ROLL THOSE BLOODSHOT EYES AT ME"

(applause)

{BAND:

theme containing snatch of Marseillaise.}

FX:

COUPLE OF NOTES PLAYED DURING:

GREENSLADE:

Part Two, in which our heroes, {their purpose almost accomplished,} are discovered creeping up to the piano.

EIDELBURGER:

Shh... Neddie. There is someone under Napoleon's Piano trying to lift it by himself.

SEAGOON:

He must be mad.

ECCLES:

(sing) I [talk to the trees] dy dum dy dee.

SEAGOON:

I was right! Eccles, what are you doing out after feeding time?

ECCLES:

I signed a contract that fooled me {- fooled me mark you --} into taking this piano back to England.

SEAGOON:

What? You must be an idiot to sign a contract like that. {Heh heh.} Now help me get this piano back to England. Together... lift.

OMNES:

General straining sounds, with piano plonks.

SEAGOON:

{Watch the old tenor's friend... heave...} No, no {no, It's too heavy.} It's too heavy. Put it down.

FX:

THUD, PLONK.

ECCLES:

Here {here}... it's lighter when you let go, {i'n' it?}

SEAGOON:

I have an idea. We'll saw the legs off. Eccles? Give me that special piano leg saw that, {er, that} you just happen to be carrying. {Ha ha ha. Thank you...} now ...

ECCLES:

(sings under:) ["I talk to der trees - dats why dey put me away"]

FX:

SAWING WOOD FOLLOWED BY WOOD DROPPING ON FLOOR

FX:

SAWING WOOD FOLLOWED BY WOOD DROPPING ON FLOOR

FX:

SAWING WOOD FOLLOWED BY WOOD DROPPING ON FLOOR

FX:

SAWING WOOD FOLLOWED BY WOOD DROPPING ON FLOOR

SEAGOON:

There! I've sawn [all four legs off] {off all four legs}.

EIDELBURGER:

Strange.. {The} first time I've known of a piano with four legs.

ECCLES:

Hey! I keep fallin' down [ohhhhhh].

SEAGOON:

{I'm terribly} sorry {Eccles}. Eccles, here! Swallow this tin of Leggo, the wonder leg grower. Recommended by all good centipedes.

GREENSLADE:

[Sweating and struggling,] they managed {, by sweating and struggling,} to get Napoleon's Piano into the cobbled court.

SEAGOON:

(dry) Which is more than Napoleon ever did.

BLOODNOK:

Halt! Hand over le piano in the name of France.

SEAGOON:

Bloodnok take off that kilt! We know you're not French.

BLOODNOK:

One step nearer and I'll strike with this fork on the end of a pole.

SEAGOON:

You do and I'll attack with this kipper.

\BLOODNOK:

I've a good mind to call the manager.\

\SEAGOON:

Call the manager.\

\BLOODNOK:

No. Why should I? {I... I...}\

\SEAGOON:

Very well, I'll call him. (aside) I'll get him this time. {hahum} (calls) Manager?\

\FX:

DOOR OPENS.\

\MANAGER:

Oui, monsieur? \

\SEAGOON:

Throw this man out.\

\MANAGER:

(blows raspberry)\

\FX:

DOOR SHUTS.\

[SEAGOON:

Nurse? Put the screens around that bed.]

BLOODNOK:

Seagoon, you must let me have that piano, you see... I... I foolishly signed a contract that forces me to...

SEAGOON:

Yes, yes, we know.

{BLOODNOK:

Oh oh, you..}

SEAGOON:

We're all in the same boat. We have no money, so the only way to get the piano back to England is to float it back. All together, into the English Channel.. hurl... (heaves)

GRAMS:

PAUSE. SPLOSH!

SEAGOON:

All aboard {HMS Piano!} Cast off!

ORCHESTRA:

seafaring music.

GRAMS:

WAVES, SEAGULLS

SEAGOON:

The log of Napoleon's Piano. December the third... second week in English Channel. Very seasick. No food. No water. Bloodnok down with the Lurgi. Eccles up with the lark.

BLOODNOK:

(weakly) [Ohhh] Seagoon, take over the keyboard. I can't steer any more.

SEAGOON:

Eccles, take over the keyboard.

ECCLES:

I can't -- I haven't brought my music.

SEAGOON:

You'll just have to busk for the next three miles.

BLOODNOK:

Wait!

{ECCLES:

Oooooh!}

BLOODNOK:

Great galloping crabs! Look in the sky.

GRAMS:

PROPELLER PLANE [HELICOPTER]

BLOODNOK:

It's a recording of a helicopter. Saved!

SEAGOON:

By St George, saved! Yes! (to audience) For those of you who haven't got television, they're lowering a man on a rope.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Yes, it is I -- Sea Ranger Bluebottle. {Direct from HMS Boxer.} Signals applause...

GRAMS:

WILD APPLAUSE.

BLUEBOTTLE:

...cease! (applause cuts off) I have drunk my fill of the clapping.

SEAGOON:

Little stinking Admiral.

{BLUEBOTTLE:

Yes!}

SEAGOON:

You have arrived in the nick of time.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Silencio! I must do my duty. (aside) Hurriedly runs up cardboard union jack. \I now claim this island for the British Empire and Lord Beaverbrook, the British patriot. Thinks: I wonder why he lives in France.\ Three cheers for the Empire. Hip hip hooray. Hip hip...

{SEAGOON:

Have you come to save us?}

BLUEBOTTLE:

{...hooray. Rockall (*1) is now British.} Cements in brass plate. Steps back to salute.

GRAMS:

SPLOSH!

BLUEBOTTLE:

Aiiooo! Help! I'm in deep dreaded drowning-type water.

SEAGOON:

Here! Grab this fork on the end of a pole.

BLUEBOTTLE:

It's got a kipper on!

SEAGOON:

Yes! You must keep your strength up.

BLUEBOTTLE:

But.. {but, I don~~~} I'm drowning!

SEAGOON:

There's no need to go hungry as well. Take my hand!

BLUEBOTTLE:

Why? Are you a stranger in paradise?

SEAGOON:

(Heave) {Heeuuueeeuuueeeuuup!} For those without television, I've pulled him back on the piano.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Piano? This is not a piano. This is Rockall.

SEAGOON:

This is Napoleon's Piano.

BLUEBOTTLE:

No.. no {, it is not.}

{SEAGOON:

It is.}

{BLUEBOTTLE:

No, it isn't.}

{SEAGOON:

This is Napoleon's Piano.}

BLUEBOTTLE:

No [no], this is Rockall. We have tooked it because it is in the area of the rocket testing range.

SEAGOON:

{Rocket testing range?} I've never heard {so much rubbish in all my}...

GRAMS:

WHEEEEE... BOOOM!

GREENSLADE:

What do you think, dear listeners? Were they standing on Rockall? Or was it Napoleon's piano? Send your suggestions to anybody but us. \For those who would prefer a happy ending, here it is.\

\FX:

DOOR OPENS.\

\GRAMS:

SNATCH OF MUSIC\

\SEAGOON:

(out of breath) Gwendoline! Gwendoline!\

\GWENDOLINE:

(Sellers: female) John, John darling.\

\SEAGOON:

{Gwendoline..... I've...} I've found work, darling. I've got a job.\

\GWENDOLINE:

Oh John. I'm so glad for you... What is it {, darling} ?\

\SEAGOON:

{Darling,} all I've got to do is to move a piano from one room to another... (laughs madly)\

ORCHESTRA:

[Signature tune]

GREENSLADE:

That was the Goon Show, a BBC Recorded programme featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray. The orchestra was conducted by Wally Stott, script by Spike Milligan, announcer Wallace Greenslade. The programme produced by Peter Eton.

ORCHESTRA:

Signature tune up to end.

(applause)

MAX & ORCHESTRA:

Crazy rhythm playout.