From: David Bromage (dbromage eccles fang.omni.com.au)
Subject: The Race to Mornington Crescent
Date: 2001-06-14 00:18:59 PST
Finally finished my first full length original script. Comments welcome.

Cheers
David


Greenslade: This is the BBC. 
FX:         Duck quack
Greenslade: Thank you. That duck was brought to you by the Governors of
            BBC wireless. Tune in to the Light Program next week when 
            you will hear.
FX:         Duck quack
GRAMS:      Wild applause and cheering
Greenslade: And now, we present...
Sellers:    One moment, Mr Greenslade. I have an important announcement
            to make.
Greenslade: But you are interrupting my introduction of the introduction.
Sellers:    It's about your record.
Greenslade: Really? Is it.... is it good news? Please, tell me.
Sellers:    Your record has sold....
ORCHESTRA:  Fanfare
Sellers:    Three copies!
Greenslade: I never thought it would go so well. And now....
FX:         Duck quack
Greenslade: I thought that was next week.
Seagoon:    It's me.
Greenslade: Have a care, Mr Seagoon. I have not yet introduced you.
Seagoon:    The proceed, Wallace. Announce to the listeners via the
            talking-type wireless the words they long to hear.
Greenslade: Very well. Ladies and gentlemen, Ned Seagoon.
GRAMS:      Screams and running away
Seagoon:    Come back! Come back!
Greenslade: This then is introduction to the highly esteemed Goon Show.
ORCHESTRA:  Weak, out of tune "ta raa".
Greenslade: We present The Race to Mornington Crescent. The winner will
            be the first person win by arriving at the finish line. I am
            joined in the commentary box by John Snagge.
Snagge:     Good afternoon and welcome to Neasden. This is a most
            memorable occasion for me as it is the 203rd occasion I 
            have announced this race since it started in 1897. We have 
            a few minutes before the race begins, so Wallace will
            interview some of the runners.
Grrenslade: You just want the box to yourself, John.
Snagge:     There is only one chair and one tea cup between us. The BBC
            isn't made of money and my record isn't selling well.
Greenslade: Now I shall interview some of the runners.
FX:         WHOOSH
Greenslade: Standing next to me is a short bladder of lard. What is your
            name, sir?
Seagoon:    You've already inroduced me once, Wal.
Greenslade: That was before I introduced the story.
Seagoon:    Oh, right. Then play this gramophone record and and all
            will be revealed.
Seagoon:    (pre rec, backwards) My name is Ned Seagoon.
Seagoon:    WhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhat? The label is upside down. Let 
            me try again.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) My name is Ned Seagoon.
Greenslade: Mr Seagoon, what makes you think you can win this race?
Seagoon:    Because I'm running for the glory of England, sir, for the 
            honour of our island heritage! (sings) Rule Britannia, 
            Britann...
FX:         Flying haggis splat
Greenslade: For the benefit of listeners with black and white radios, Mr
            Seagoon has just been hit with a flying haggis.
Laird Red Hairy McLegs:
            And there's more where that came from, laddie.
Greenslade: Ah, a Scotsman, I see.
McLegs:     That's right, ye sassenach fool.
Greenslade: Can I ask you why you think you can win this race?
McLegs:     Aye, ye can ask, but I'm sworrrrn tae secrecy. If I tell ye, 
            then a powerful infernal device in ma sporran will explode!
FX:         Running feet recede into the middle distance.
Greenslade: (shouting from distace) Perhaps I had better not enquire then.
            Now, who are these two gentlemen dressed in immaculate brown
            paper suits?
Grytpype:   Good afternoon. My name is Hercules Grytpype-Thynne. We are
            the Spon Team. This is my partner, count Jim "Trembles"...
GRAMS:      Bubbles
Moriarty:   Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Grytpype:   ... Moriarty. Winner of the 1923 race to Rue de Plonge. We 
            have a winning strategy that cannot fail, revealed to us by
            secret stone and string tablets found in a dustbin in Exeter.
Greenslade: And what is this winning strategy?
Moriarty:   We have two, I say! Two strategies.
Grytpype:   Each forming one half of a connected and foolproof whole.
            Moriarty, tell him what the first one is.
Moriarty:   Sex appeal, *sex* appeal, do you hear me?
Greenslade: And the second?
Grytpype:   We're going to ride a motorbike!
Seagoon:    I say, isn't that rather a rotten trick?
Grytpype:   Is it? I wouldn't know.
Greenslade: I'm sorry, I cannot abide by cheating. I shall have to report 
            you to the judges.
Grytpype:   Fifty pounds be enough?
Greenslade: Well, I... I...
Grytpype:   A hundred?
Greenslade: Done.
FX:         Cash register
Grytpype:   Moriarty, warm up the motor cycle. I shall ride in the
            sidecar.
Moriarty:   Owwww.....
GRAMS:      Motor cycle starting up
Grytpype:   Pass me my leather helmet and goggles.
Ned:        This is supposed to be a running race.
Grytpype:   And she's running very nicely, too.
GRAMS:      Motor cycle gives a few revs.
Ned:        But you can't do that! i'm going to call tell the referees. 
            Calling the referees! Heeeeeelp!
Bluebottle: I heard you call, my capitan! I heard you call me. Enter 
            Bluebottle, pauses for audience sosinges.
Ned:        Are you the referee?
Bluebottle: Yes! We are!
Eccles:     Yer..... we are.
Ned:        These two men are trying to enter a motor bike in a foot
race.
Eccles:     Oooooo...... let us see.
Grytpype:   Neddy, this isn't a real motor bike, it's only a cardboard 
            replica.
Ned:        But it looks like a motor bike, and it tastes like a motor
            bike.
Bluebottle: It is! These naughty men are trying to cheat!
Moriarty:   Fifty pounds?
Bluebottle: No.
Moriarty:   A hundred?
Bluebottle: No!
Moriarty:   A quarter of dolly mixtures?
Bluebottle: Tee hee. Now Molly Spits will think twice about me.
Eccles:     Wait a minute, my good man. Dis here is a real motor bike and
            my little book says dey are..... naughty!
Grytpype:   Fifty pounds enough?
Eccles:     Dat is also... naughty!
Grytpype:   A hundred?
Eccles:     Errrr.... no!
Grytpype:   A poster of Sabrina?
Eccles:     Oh ho ho ho ho!You can't do dat to me.
Grytpype:   Perhaps we can settle this amicably.
Eccles:     How?
FX:         Gunshot
Eccles:     Ow! Ooooowwwwww! I accept your apology.
Greenslade: And now we return you to John Snagge in the commentary box for
            an important announcement.
Snagge:     Ladies and gentlemen, I have just received word that my 
            record has just sold two more copies in Lewisham. And we have
            just had news of a late entry. The final entry, having just
            arrived by tram from Bombay, has arrived at the podium.
ORCHESTRA:  Bloodnok theme
GRAMS:      Bloodnok explosions
Bloodnok:   Eiiiioooooorrghghghgh! Arrrgghhghghghghgh! As you were, lads,
            it's only me.
Greenslade: Who are you?
Bloodnok:   I, sir, am Major Denis Bloodnok, of the 3rd Disgusting
            Lancers. We are going to win this race for the glory of the 
            Indian Army, and..... money! Isn't that right, lads?
Lalkaka:    Your reasoning is of sound capacity to my mind.
Banerjee:   You are most definately correct, sahib.
Ned:        But they're riding horses. This is a foot race!
Bloodnok:   The horses *are* using their feet!
Ned:        Gasp! Me against horses and a motor bike, I'll never make it.
            I shall have to think of something.
Greenslade: For the benefit of listeners, the the short blue lad on the
            podium is about to start the race.
Ned:        ARGH! I can't think of anything. How can I win this race for
            the glory of England?
Spriggs:    Hello, Jim!
Ned:        Good heavens! It's a London Undergound station master.
Spriggs:    Take the tube, Jim. Take the tube, Jeeeem!
Ned:        Of course! The only way to get to Mornington Crescent!
Bluebottle: On your marks.....
Bloodnok:   Mount up, lads. Sabres at the ready.
Bluebottle: Get set....
Moriarty:   Hold on tight, Grytpype.
GRAMS:      Motor bike revving, bagpipes starting
Ned:        There's the entrance to the tube station. It's only a short
            run.
Bluebottle: Go!
FX:         Starting pistol
Bloodnok:   Charge!
GRAMS:      Motor bike, horses, bagpipes and running feet into the
            distance.
GRAMS:      Feet running closer with echo
Singhz Thing: Mind the doors, hooray.
GRAMS:      Tube train departing station.
Greenslade: While Mr Seagoon takes the tube, Mr Max Geldray will play
            his new record in a reclining position.

Max and orchestra: music

Greenslade: The Race to Mornington Crescent, part 2. During the musical
            break, my record sold another copy at Fred  Nutt's Music
            Emporium near Marble Arch. Meanwhile, Ned Seagoon caught 
            the Jubilee line towards Dollis Hill. Grytpype and Moriarty
            rode their motor bike towards Killburn with Bloodnok and his
            Lancers close behind, and the haggis-powered Laird bringing 
            up the rear.
GRAMS:      Motor bike at speed
Grytpype:   Faster, Moriarty. They're gaining on us.
Moriarty:   I'm trying, Grytpype.
GRAMS:      Police siren
Grytpype:   Curses, it's the police! Pull over, Moriarty.
GRAMS:      Motor bike slows and stops
Willium:    'Ello, sonny. Late for the garden party?
GRAMS:      Horses approaching
Moriarty:   Look, it's Bloodnok and his team!
Bloodnok:   Faster, lads. Last one to the Finchley Road mucks out the
            stables.
GRAMS:      Horses riding into the distance
Moriarty:   They're getting away! (panicking sounds)
FX:         Slap.
Grytpype:   Stop it, Moriarty. I have a plan. Constable, allow me to 
            introduce myself. My name is Stanley Baldwin.
Willium:    But 'e's dead.
Moriarty:   Then we must get to a hospital at once!
GRAMS:      Motor bike driving off very fast.
Willium:    'Ere, come back! I'll get you!
GRAMS:      Police car with siren driving away, followed by running 
            feet and bagpipes
McLegs:     Oot 'o my way, mon!
ORCHESTRA:  Change of scene music.
GRAMS:      Tube train arriving at station
Seagoon:    As I arrived at Baker Street, I had no idea where any of the
            runners were. I decided to find out. I ran to the nearest
            telephone and called the BBC. I say, there!
Spriggs:    Yes, Jim?
Seagoon:    You again? Weren't you at Neasden?
Spriggs:    No, that was by brother Jim, Jim. My brother Jeeeeem!
Seagoon:    Can you direct me to a telephone?
Spriggs:    Over there, Jim.
Seagoon:    Thankyou.
FX:         Telephone dialing
Greenslade: Meanwhile, at the BBC master control room and telephone
            exchange.
FX:         Wires being clipped
Henry:      Mnk.. mnk...It's no good, these wires are too short. Minnie,
            did we get a new piece of wire this week?
Minnie:     Yes, buddy.
Henry:      There where is it?
Minnie:     You used it to hold up your socks, buddy.
Minnie:     Mnk... so I did. Never mind, I'll fix transmitter with a
            piece of string.
FX:         Phone ringing
Minnie:     Hello, BBC.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) Hello. Can you put me thtough to John Snagge?
Minnie:     One moment, sir. Henry!!!
Henry:      What is it, Min?
Minnie:     There's a man on the telephone who wants to speak to Mr
            Snagge.
Henry:      Mnk.. mnk.. ask him what he wants.
Minnie:     What do you want, sir?
Seagoon:    (pre rec) I want to speak to John Snagge.
Minnie:     He says he wants to speak to John Snagge.
Henry:      Really? There's a gentleman on the telephone who wants to
            speak to him too.
Minnie:     Speak to who?
Henry:      To Mr Snagge.
Minnie:     John Snagge? The man on the telephone wants to speak to him.
Henry:      Who?
Minnie:     The man on the telephone.
Henry:      What does he want?
Minnie:     To speak to John Snagge.
Henry:      There's a man on the telephone who wants to speak to him too.
Minnie:     I know that, buddy. Where is he?
Henry:      Where is who?
Minnie:     Mr Snagge.
Henry:      I think he's talking to a man on the telephone.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) Hello? Hello? Are you there?
Minnie:     Yes sir.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) Can I speak to John Snagge?
Minnie:     You'll have to wait, there's a man on the telephone who 
            wants to speak to him first.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) I am on the telephone!
Minnie:     Henry, he says he's on the telephone.
Henry:      Well ask him to wait. I've got ink on my trousers.
Minnie:     You'll have to wait, sir. Mr Crun has ink on his trousers.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) Tell him to use blotting paper.
Minnie:     Henry, the man says to use blotting paper.
Henry:      Ooohhh, that's a good idea. I think John Snagge has some. 
            But he's out calling the race.
Minnie:     Does he have a telephone?
Henry:      Don't be a silly billy, Min. He's in Neasden. I'll get him on
            the wireless.
GRAMS:      Radio being tuned
Henry:      This is BBC master control centre calling special broadcast
            station Neasden. Come in Neasden.
Snagge:     (pre rec, crackling) This is Neasden. Go ahead, control.
Henry:      This is master controller Henry Crun speaking. Do you read
me?
Snagge:     (pre rec) Neasden here. Reading you loud and clear, control.
Henry:      Mnk.. good. I have a message for you, Neasden. Are you ready
            to receive it?
Snagge:     (pre rec) Ready to receive. Go ahead, control.
Henry:      Do you have any blotting paper?
Snagge:     On my desk, control. Under a pile of unsold copies of
            Greenslade's record.
Henry:      Thankyou, Neasden. Oh, wait. There's a man on the telephone
            who wants to talk to you. Minnie, what does the man on the
            telephone want?
Minnie:     What did you want, sir?
Seagoon:    (pre rec) I want to find out who is winning the race.
Minnie:     He wants to know who is winning the race, buddy.
Henry:      Hello Neasden? The man wants to know who is winning the race.
Snagge:     (pre rec) Hello control. The leader is Major Bloodnok. Over.
Henry:      He says it's Major Bloodnok, buddy.
Minnie:     He says it's Major Bloodnok, buddy.
Seagoon:    (pre rec) ARGH!
FX:         Click
Minnie:     He's gone, buddy.
Henry:      Good. Now where's the gentleman who wanted to speak to Mr
            Snagge?
ORCHESTRA:  Dramatic change of scene music
Greenslade: Indeed, Major Bloodnok was in the lead. But not for long.
GRAMS:      Horses at speed. Bugle call.
Bloodnok:   Faster, lads. Faster! (sings) I travel the road, in a 
            military way.
Lalkala:    Look out!
Bloodnok:   Stop!
GRAMS:      Horses screeching to a halt
Bloodnok:   What is this? Out of the way, man!
Fred Nurk:  What do you want?
Bloodnok:   Get this dirty great hole in the road out of the way. We're
            trying to win a race.
Nurk:       All right, all right. Calm down. We're just doing the drains.
            We'll be done in a couple of days.
Bloodnok:   What?
GRAMS:      Motorcycle driving up at speed, screeching to a halt
Moriarty:   Look, a hole in the road, Grytpype. A hole, I tell you!
Oowww!
FX:         Slap
Grytpype:   Silence, Moriarty. Do you want to be arrested for commiting 
            a public oowww? Let me talk to the gentleman. I say, my good
            man.
Nurk:       What do you want?
Grytpype:   The steaming French Count and I are in a race. Would you be 
            so kind as to move this hole so we can continue?
Nurk:       What a lark. We're doing the drains, you see. Hang about and
            we'll be done in a couple of days.
Moriarty:   Days! We could be stuck her for days with no food. No food,
            I tell you!
FX:         Slap
Moriarty:   Ooowwww!
Grytpype:   And another!
FX:         Slap
GRAMS:      Bagpipes screeching to a halt
McLegs:     Oot 'o my way, mon! Canna ye see that I'm trying to win a 
            race for Scotland?
Nurk:       Not another one! All right, calm down or I'll nut you with
            this shovel. Just wait a couple of days and...
McLegs:     Days? Och, time for a wee drappie then.
GRAMS:      Long recording of pouring liquid, bubbles, gulping
McLegs:     Ah, that's better.
GRAMS:      Running feet aproaching
Seagoon:    Stop!
GRAMS:      Feet stop
Seagoon:    What's happening? Why has the race stopped?
Bloodnok:   This soundrel won't move this hole in the road. It's blocking
            the race. Why, I'd form the troops into an extended squadron
            line and charge the drain workers if I wasn't a complete
            coward.
Seagoon:    We need the referees to decide on this one. Calling the
            referees! Heeeeellp!
Eccles:     Hello.
Seagoon:    These council workers won't move their hole in the road.
            It's holding up the race.
Eccles:     Oooooo.... let me see, my good fellow. Bottle?
Bluebottle: What is it Eccles?
Eccles:     These good men won't move this 'ere hold in the road.
Bluebottle: Ooohh! Let me talk to them, Eccles. I say! I can practice my
            talking for my new record.
FX:         Clunk
Bluebottle: Aaaaiiyyyyeee! What's the matter with you? Hitting my nut.
Nurk:       I told you, calm down or I'll belt you with this shovel.
Eccles:     Fine, fine, fine. Now look here, my good man. I..
FX:         Clunk
Eccles:     Yeeeeooowwww! I accept your apology.
Bluebottle: Eccles, I shall use the powers of da mind to move dis naughty
            hole. Stares at naughty hole. Toot, toot, toot, toot. Move,
            naughty hole. You cannot resist the powers of Bluebottle.
            Strain!!! You cannot stand up against my willpower. My mind
            power will move you. You cannot resist my power!
FX:         Metallic pop
GRAMS:      Rushing water
Nurk:       Now look what you've done. Burst a water main. Now stop that
            or I'll belt you with this shovel.
(General confusion)
Greenslade: Ladies and gentlemen, while our runners and the council 
            workers attempt to reach an amicable agreement..
FX:         Clunk
Eccles:     Ooowwww!
Greenslade: .. we present the all new record by Ray Ellington.

Ray Ellington Quartet: music

Greenslade: The Race to Mornington Crescent, part 3, in which my record
            sells another two copies. We now return to Killburn where our
            runners have been halted by a hole in the road, which is now
            rapidly filling with water. A horse drawn omnibus owned by the
            BBC arrives behind the runners.
GRAMS:      Horse drawn omnibus approaching and stopping
Snagge:     Here's is an important news flash. My record has some another
            copy at a tea shop in Cairo. In other news, the race to
            Mornington Crescent has been delayed by a hole in the road in
            Killburn. I am speaking to you from the scene where the
            runners and several council workers are discussing what to do.
FX:         Clunk
Moriarty:   Ooowwww!
Nurk:       Now belt up!
Grytpype:   I say, I think I may have the answer. Gather round and I
            dhall tell you. I think we should... (whispers for some
            time)
Seagoon:    Speak up!
Grytpype:   I was saying that if the council won't move this hole,
            perhaps we should... go around it!
GRAMS:      Wild applause and cheering, followed by Land of Hope and
            Glory.
Eccles:     Wait a minute, my good man. The race goes along this street
            and going on any other street is... naughty!
Grytpype:   But the hole has a burst water main, and I can't swim.
Eccles:     Neither can I.
Grytpype:   Then perhaps we can settle this amicably.
Eccles:     How? No, no! Put me down. I...
GRAMS:      Splash
Little Jim: He's falled in the water.
Seagoon:    I say, perhaps if we plug the hole we can get across when
            the water drains away.
Bloodnok:   Excellent idea, lad. Now where can we find something small
            and rubbery to bung in the hole?
Seagoon:    Here's something.
Bluebottle: Put me down!
Seagoon:    Curses. What if we build a bridge over the hole?
Grytpype:   Splendid! It just so happens that I have a portable bridge
            building kit. Available for the small price of 10,000 small
            pounds.
Seagoon:    But I don't have 10,000 pounds. Major Bloodnok, do you have
            10,000 pounds?
Bloodnok:   Sorry, lad. The regimental funds have... gone missing. Some
            soundrel stole them.
Seagoon:    Well if we can't build a bridge, perhaps we can float
            something across the hole? What will float on water?
FX:         Duck quack
Seagoon:    That's not until next week. But wait.... yes, I've got it!
            Taxi!
FX:         Taxi approaching and stopping
Willium:    Yes, mate?
Seagoon:    Aren't you a policeman?
Willium:    That's my brother, mate. Where to?
Seagoon:    Portsmouth, and step on it.
Willium:    Right, mate.
FX:         Taxi driving away at speed
Greenslade: While Ned is on his way to Portsmouth by taxi, I have an
            important announcement that my record has sold another copy.
            While the other runners are waiting patiently at the hole in
            Killburn....
Bloodnok:   Break out the brandy ration. And let's listen to Greenslade's
            record.
Greenslade: Oh, thank you! While they are waiting patiently, Ned arrived
            in Portsmouth.
GRAMS:      Seaside sounds. Ship horn.
Seagoon:    I arrived at the Royal Navy base, and knocked on the door of
            the nearest ship.
FX:         Knocking on metal door. Door opening.
Admiral (Sellers): What is is?
Seagoon:    My name is Ned Seagoon.
Admiral:    Are you the tailor?
Seagoon:    No, why?
Admiral:    I've spilled ink on my uniform, and John Snagge has run out of
            blotting paper. What do you want?
Seagoon:    I want to borrow your ship to sail across a hole filled with
            water in Killburn.
Admiral:    And what makes you think I will lend you one of Her Majesty's
            ships?
Seagoon:    For the glory of England! Rule Britannia, Britannia...
Admiral:    I'm sorry, but I just can't..
Seagoon:    And if I don't win, the army team will.
Admiral:    What? Cast off! All ahead full!
GRAMS:      Ship leaving port
Seagoon:    As we sailed one of Her Majesty's battleships out of the
            Solent and around the Kent coast, I wondered what the others
            were doing.
Moriarty:   Curse this hold in the road! If we wait here much longer
            without food, we won't be able to win!
Grytpype:   Steady, Moriarty. But you should write out you will anyway.
Moriarty:   Good. I will.
GRAMS:      Scracthy pen under next line
Moriarty:   I, Count Jim Moriarty, leave one empty tin to my Uncle 
            Jacques, and my collection of antique string to..  Oowww!
Grytpype:   What?
            I've spilled ink on my trousers.
Snagge:     I have some blotting paper.
Moriarty:   Thankyou. Ow, dropped it. Wait.... look, Grytpype! The
            blotting paper is soaking up the water!
Grytpype:   You're right! More blotting paper! Throw it in the hole!
Nurk:       Ere, wait! You can't do that!
FX:         Clunk
Nurk:       Oowww!
Grytpype:   There, nearly full.
Moriarty:   I'll start the motor bike.
GRAMS:      Motor bike starting
Moriarty:   The power. The brown power!
Bloodnok:   Mount up, lads! Prepare to charge.
Eccles:     Come on, Bottle. We better get to the finish line.
Bluebottle: Yes. You drive the car cos I got ink my trousers.
Eccles:     Use blotting paper.
Snagge:     Here is an important announcement. My record has sold another
            copy. This makes it equal with Greenslade. The latest copy..
            (fades out)
Greenslade: Meanwhile, on the battleship.
Orchestra:  Nautical music
GRAMS:      Battleship noises
Seagoon:    As we sailed the Battleship up the Thames, I tuned into the
            wireless.
Snagge:     (pre rec) ..was sold in Glasgow. Meanwhile, the runners in the
            race to Mornington Crescent have filled the hole and are
            preparing to start again.
Seagoon:    Argh! I can't let them win! Admiral, faster or the army will
            win!
Admiral:    Full speed ahead!
GRAMS:      Battleship speeding up
Seagoon:    Faster, faster. Watch out for Westminster Pier. Don't worry
            about the bus, just sail up Tottenham Court Road.
GRAMS:      Traffic noise, cars honking, battleship hooting back
Greenslade: Listeners may question the possibility of sailing a battleship
            up Tottenham Court Road on a busy afternoon. Bond Street would
            be much faster. And with my record selling another copy,
            putting me ahead of John Snagge, we present the thrilling 
            climax. The Race to Mornington Crescent, part 4.
GRAMS:      Motorbike at speed
Grytpype:   Faster, Moriarty!
Moriarty:   I'm trying!
GRAMS:      Horses at speed
Bloodnok:   Charrrrrge!
GRAMS:      Bagpipes
McLegs:     Aye, mon! Scotland forever! Och, what? The inferrrnal device
            in ma sporran is stuck.
GRAMS:      Battleship hooting
Seagoon:    Hurry, we're almost at there. There's Euston.
Snagge:     And as we wait at the finish line with just seconds to go,
            the horses, motorbike and battleship appear to be neck and
            neck, with the Scotsman right behind. This is going to be a
            photo finish.
Bluebottle: Are you ready with the camera, Eccles?
Eccles:     Yes, Bottle. Hold the flash for me, my good man.
Seagoon:    I think we're going to win! Last hundred yards!
McLegs:     Och, ma sporran's going to explode!
Moriarty:   Oh no!
Seagoon:    Look out! Arrrrrrrgggghhh!
GRAMS:      Huge explosion, followed by falling rubble and metal
Bluebottle: You rotten swine, you!
Snagge:     Here is the news. The annual race to Mornington Crescent was
            cancelled this afternoon when a battleship blocked the finish
            line. Police are looking for a Major Denis Bloodnok in
            connection with the disappearance of several horses from the
            Horse Guards Parade early this morning. Police are also
            looking for two men in connection with the theft of a 
            motorbike and side car in Preston Road at about the same 
            time. And finally, sales of Greenslade's record stopped this
            afternoon when the warehouse in Mornington Crescent was
            blown up. 
Greenslade: You may think the loss of my record would worry me, dear
            listener. But it doesn't, because... it's all in the mind, 
            you know.

Orchestra: Play out