Posted on GSD 24-May-03 by AbsentMindedGenius

Right, folks, here it is. As it's my first transcription, it'll need a lot of correction, so feel free to point out my (numerous) mistakes.

*amg*

The International Christmas Pudding

Series 6, Episode 9

Script by Spike Milligan, first broadcast 15/11/55

Transcribed: absentmindedgenius

(?) denotes that I am unsure of the previous word/phrase

GREENSLADE:

This is the BBC. Will anybody start the bidding?

SECOMBE:

Ten shillings there!

GREENSLADE:

Sold!

SECOMBE:

Good!

SECOMBE:

And we're off on another remarkable wireless talking-type Goon Show!

GRAMS:

Music, continues until...

SECOMBE:

Stop! Tonight, tonight , in honour of the occasion, we bring you, especially writted for the wireless, the classic tale of the Great International Christmas Pudding!

ORCHESTRA

Dramatic chords and send up

ECCLES:

Fine, fine, fine.

SPRIGGS(?)

The Great International Christmas Pudding...where is it?

SELLERS (McGoonigal):

Many years ago in the year 562 BC

The Great monumental International Christmas Pudding was struck by lightning which also struck a tree.

And the magnificent International Christmas Pudding, which had been directed by (Sissy Gambis) Cecile Gambers(?) atop a temple tall,

Was broken into two portions by the knock it received during the fall.

And oh, these portions had been carried to a far corner of the earth,

And this terrible disaster is not an occasion for mirth, and oh...

ORCHESTRA:

Harp link- time passing

GREENSLADE:

Yes, it was in 1843 that the discovery in the Sudan of a large fossilised fragment of this long forgotten pudding prompted a question in the House of Commons.

OMNES: (Snoring under:)

MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT (old):

And the discovery of this portion of pudding prompts me to suggest that if all the portions, if all the portions of this emblem of international goodwill and understanding could be reassembled and set up in some appropriate spot (SECOMBE, under: hear, hear!) it might well be the turning point in the falling prestige of this wonderful country of ours.

SECOMBE:

Hear hear, all right lads, tea up , tea up!

GREENSLADE:

And so it was, one autumn evening, that a tall stranger approached a young man, secretly repairing a granite banjo in Hyde Park.

FX:

Scratching and sanding sounds.

GRYTPYPE-THYNNE:

Good evening. Have a picture of Queen Victoria.

NEDDIE SEAGOON:

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

GRYTPYPE:

I don't think you'll ever do it, I've tried and failed. May I come in?

SEAGOON:

But I'm outside.

GRYTPYPE:

Well you come in, then.

FX: Door opens then shuts.

SEAGOON:

(narrative) I found myself inside a twelve bob a week bed-sitting room in Temple Kilburn.

GRYTPYPE:

Moriarty, we have a guest.

MORIARTY:

Good, at last we eat!

GRYTPYPE:

Neddie, just step into the oven, will you?

FX:

oven door opens and shuts

GRYTPYPE:

We'll soon dry those damp clothes for you.

SEAGOON:

(off) Oh, haha, thank you very much.

GRYTPYPE:

Would you mind lying down in the baking tin?

SEAGOON:

(off) Right.

GRYTPYPE:

Right Moriarty, light the gas.

MORIARTY:

I can't, I've no money for the meter.

GRYTPYPE:

What? What happened to that penny?

MORIARTY:

I sold it for two ha'pennies.

SEAGOON:

(off) I can lend you a penny.

FX:

Oven door opens.

GRYTPYPE:

You have money?

SEAGOON:

Oh, lots of it.

MORIARTY:

Money! Ohahehihohehah (etc)

GRYTPYPE:

Steady, Moriarty! Please hide those bones!

MORIARTY:

I can't ,they're mine.

GRYTPYPE:

Well, put a brown paper towel around them. Now Neddie, come out of the oven and sit down on this orange box.

SEAGOON:

Thank you very much. By heavens, it's stiff in there, you know. Haha.

GRYTPYPE:

Moriarty, put that cardboard chicken on the table and play the record of a champagne bottle being opened.

MORIARTY:

Right, I'll do it.

GRYTPYPE:

You say you're rich, Neddie.

SEAGOON:

Yes. I'm an eccentric millionaire you know. Haha, I really don't know what to do with the money. I was thinking of giving it all to a fund for third rate music hall comedians.

MORIARTY:

What? I say I say I say, what is it that has eight wheels and flies?

GRYTPYPE:

I don't know. What is it that has eight wheels and flies?

MORIARTY:

Two corporation dustcarts!

GRYTPYPE:

I don't wish to know that.

SEAGOON:

No, neither do I. (clears throat) On second thoughts...

MORIARTY:

Yesyesyesyes?

SEAGOON:

I think I'll give it all to the next two men to swim the channel.

GRYTPYPE and MORIARTY:

Ohh.....

GRAMS: Two splashes followed by sound of men swimming away.

SEAGOON:

No, come back, come back.

GRAMS: Sound of two men swimming back.

MORIARTY:

What, what?

SEAGOON:

I've changed my mind. No, no, I will give it all to the next two men to swim the channel.

GRYTPYPE and MORIARTY:

Ohh.....

GRAMS: Two splashes followed by sound of men swimming away.

SEAGOON:

No, no no no no no (etc, different pitches) stop! I've changed my mind. I'll spend every penny on forming a new show band.

GRAMS: Brassy type music.

SEAGOON:

No, I've got it. Yes, I've got it. I'll give it all to the man who runs a mile in three minutes.

FX: Pistol shot.

GRAMS: Sound of feet running away then returning.

MORIARTY:

(pants) There, three minutes exactly.

SEAGOON:

No, I've changed my mind.

MORIARTY:

(desperate) What what what what what?

SEAGOON:

I don't know really. I tell you what. Have you got any ideas on how to spend my money?

MORIARTY:

Ohohohoho.

GRYTPYPE:

Moriarty, please. Let me look in my book of suggestions. A...B...C...Charlie. Neddie, have you ever heard of the Great International Christmas Pudding?

SEAGOON:

No...

GRYTPYPE:

Do have a picture of Queen Victoria

SEAGOON:

Well, just this one. (narrative) As I puffed my Queen Victoria, he told me the amazing story of the Great International Christmas Pudding, originally built at Alexandria in BC 2000, destroyed and sacked by the Catharginians under Plato's republic and it's fragments scattered the length and longth of the known world.

GRYTPYPE:

Thank you Neddie, you saved me telling you. If only all these fragments of the Great International Christmas Pudding could be found and reassembled under one roof, the whole magnificent structure could be completely restored. What an incentive to goodwill and understanding among men.

SEAGOON:

Gad!

GRYTPYPE:

Yes, and think carefully. How would you like to join my Great International Christmas Pudding expedition?

SEAGOON:

Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes!

GRYTPYPE:

No, no though, I doubt if you have the stamina.

SEAGOON:

What? A test, a test, give me a test.

GRYTPYPE:

Right, lift me on your back.

SEAGOON:

Child's play (strains) put your foot... there!

GRYTPYPE:

(off)Good! Now Moriarty.

SEAGOON:

Easy (strains) watch out for the tenors friend there... now what?.

GRYTPYPE:

(off)Are you sure you have money?

SEAGOON:

Yes, of course I have.

GRYTPYPE:

(off)Then the Ritz Carlton grill for lunch, and step on it please, do you mind.

MORIARTY:

Yes, and at all costs avoid Max Geldray.

GELDRAY:

(harmonica slide)

MORIARTY:

Too late!

GELDRAY and ORCHESTRA: Music

ORCHESTRA:

Dramatic link

GREENSLADE:

The Great International Christmas Pudding, second helping. Deeply impressed by the magnificent luncheon he bought for Lord Grytpype, Neddie decided to equip a complete Christmas Pudding expedition.

ORCHESTRA and OMNES(possible GRAMS):

African-style drumming and singing

SEAGOON:

(narrative) Yes, within a week, I had landed at Port Pakango and waiting for me on the quay was a resplendent figure wearing a tiger-skin busby, a scarlet duffel coat and karki drill shorts, and smoking a picture of Queen Victoria.

BLOODNOK:

Ohhh...allow me to introduce myself sir. Major Denis Bloodnok, International Christmas Pudding agent for the Sudan.

SEAGOON:

Gad, what luck! The very man I'm looking for.

BLOODNOK:

You mean you're interested?

SEAGOON:

Of course.

BLOODNOK:

You don't know what you're undertaking. Do you realise there are men here who would be willing to drive you out of the country at any price?

SEAGOON:

Who are they?

BLOODNOK:

Taxi drivers.

SEAGOON:

I don't wish to know that.

BLOODNOK:

Neither do I.

SEAGOON:

Ha hmm. Tell me more about the pudding. Is there a portion somewhere in the Sudan?

BLOODNOK:

It's all here lad, in Africa. Three quarters of it is worshipped as a god by the savage Naringi Burbas, and the other quarter has turned man-eater and is roaming the forest of Ying-Tong-Iddle-I-Po.

SEAGOON:

Gad! You mean that portion will have to be shot?

BLOODNOK:

Yes, it will need a man with a steady eye, a hollow tooth and a wooden leg to bring it down.

SEAGOON:

Do you know such a man?

BLOODNOK:

No, but I know a man whose advice would be invaluable to you, but, er, hmm, he'd be too expensive.

SEAGOON:

Mmm. Between you and me, how much should I offer him?

BLOODNOK:

Well, between you and me, his usual fee is a thousand, but in my estimation he's worth much more.

SEAGOON:

Two?

BLOODNOK:

Three.

SEAGOON:

Right. Who is he?

BLOODNOK:

Me.

SEAGOON:

Ahaha, Major Bloodnok, I've been told to offer you three thousand pounds.

BLOODNOK:

You've been very well advised.

SEAGOON:

Well now what do you advise me to do?

BLOODNOK:

First, pay me the money. Er, you have money, haven't you?

SEAGOON:

Of course I have money.

BLOODNOK:

Good, good.

SEAGOON:

Miss Throat?

THROAT:

Yes?

SEAGOON:

Open my money chest and put on the gramophone record of seven thousand pounds in shillings.

THROAT:

Right.

GRAMS:

Coins falling onto floor. Carries on for very long time.

BLOODNOK:

Wait a minute, that was only three thousand, five hundred pounds. Where's the rest of it?

SEAGOON:

I'll play you the other side:

BLOODNOK:

All right, I'll play the rest when I get home. Do have a picture of Queen Victoria please.

SEAGOON:

No thanks, I'm trying to give them up. (BLOODNOK under: Ohh) Now tell me, what is your advice about the Great International Christmas Pudding?

BLOODNOK:

Forget all about it lad, goodbye!

SEAGOON:

Stop! You mustn't go.

BLOODNOK:

Why?

SEAGOON:

I've made up my mind. I'm going to get that Christmas Pudding, and all for Britain. And I want you to accompany me on a safari.

BLOODNOK:

But I've never played one in my life.

SEAGOON:

I'll have a man flown out to teach you.

BLOODNOK:

Then I'll come. Of course, I shall need special equipment.

SEAGOON:

Such as?

BLOODNOK:

Money.

SEAGOON:

Very well. Here's a recording of a blank cheque.

GRAMS: Recorded silence (with surface record noise).

BLOODNOK:

Ohh.

SEAGOON:

Just fill in the label for any amount you like. Now, what else do we need?

BLOODNOK:

A picture of Queen Victoria.

SEAGOON:

(narrative) On Bloodnok's advice, I also purchased the following vital equipment.

MILLIGAN:

One knee-action, self-reciprocating Christmas Pudding gun.

SECOMBE:

One hand painted inflatable Christmas Pudding decoy with rubber hollow.

SELLERS:

One portable plastic and gravel road.

MILLIGAN:

One long bent thing with a sort of lump on the end.

SECOMBE:

On waterproof cover for same.

SELLERS:

One same.

MILLIGAN:

Thirty-three boxes of yellow kosher boots.

SECOMBE:

Another long bent thing with a sort of lump on the end.

SELLERS:

One uncooked leather trilby with sugar feather.

MILLIGAN:

One sixty foot explodable granite statue with built in plunger

SECOMBE:

Detailed plans of what to do with long bent thing with a sort of lump on the end.

BLOODNOK:

Right, now, pack all that into the piano and burn it to ashes.

SEAGOON:

To ashes?

BLOODNOK:

Yes, they're much, much lighter to carry. Please have a picture of Queen Victoria.

SEAGOON:

Haha. Not before lunch.

BLOODNOK:

Right, then follow me:

ORCHESTRA:

Bloodnok theme, into military style march.

GRAMS:

Effect of boots tramping on gravel.

GREENSLADE:

Meanwhile, unknown to Seagoon, a different expedition has already reached the forest of Ying-Tong-Iddle-I-Po, collecting moss for the BBC. At this very moment indeed, its members are bedding down in their tents under the jungle moon

MINNIE:

Oh dear, yim-bom-biddle-oh, melodies divine. Have you tucked the ends of the sheets in, Henry?

HENRY:

Yes, yes Min, yes.

MINNIE:

Oh dear. Have you put the hot water bottle in?

HENRY:

Yes.

MINNIE:

Good, good good.

HENRY:

Oh Min!

MINNIE:

It's very hot tonight, I think I'll have a cold water bottle.

HENRY:

Here, we will have to get these tents redecorated. The wallpaper is peeling.

MINNIE:

Oh, I'll get a new roll from London, Henry.

HENRY:

Good, good.

MINNIE:

Yes, it is good.

HENRY:

Did you put the tiger out, Min?

MINNIE:

Yes Henry, I, I put the tiger out, Henry.

HENRY:

And don't forget to tell the camel driver no milk tomorrow.

GRAMS: Loud dull thuds, continue under following conversation.

MINNIE:

Ohhhhhhhheeoh. What, what's that?

HENRY:

It's all right Min, it's just those noisy people in the tent upstairs. Who's that walking about upstairs?

ECCLES:

(off) I'm the famous Eccles! I got friends in.

HENRY:

He's the famous Eccles and he's got friends in, Min. Do you mind taking those noisy boots off?

ECCLES:

(off)OK.

FX: Two thuds.

MINNIE:

Ahh, that's better.

FX: Thud

MINNIE:

Ohh, I didn't know he had three legs, Henry.

HENRY:

He hasn't, Min, he hasn't, he has a one legged friend. Goodnight Min.

MINNIE:

Goodnight, buddy.

FX: Thud

MINNIE and HENRY:

Ohh!

HENRY:

He's got two one legged friends!

FX: Thud

MINNIE:

That, or one three legged friend, Henry.

HENRY:

Yes, well goodnight Min.

MINNIE:

Goodnight, little mmnnnn naughty Henry. Goodnight little Henry!

GRAMS: Lion roaring

MINNIE:

Ohh! What's that? We'll all be murdered in our beds!

HENRY:

Is that the tiger, Min? Let him in, let him in.

MINNIE:

Come in, pussy.

GRAMS: Lion roaring

MINNIE:

Ohhoww! It isn't the tiger Henry! It's a savage portion of the Christmas Pudding!

HENRY:

Help, Eccles, help!

MINNIE

Helppp, Eccles!

HENRY:

Help, Eccles, help!

FX: Loud banging

ECCLES:

(off) You two down there! Stop that naughty noise! I'm trying to get some sleep, I'm a brain-worker!

HENRY:

I'm sorry Eccles. Not so loud, Min, quietly.

MINNIE and HENRY:

(quietly) Help, Eccles, help.

SEAGOON:

Keep calm, I heard your refined screams. Now, what's the trouble?

HENRY:

There's a savage portion of International Christmas Pudding loose in the long grass.

SEAGOON:

Good heavens! Just what I'm looking for. Quick, surround Africa!

ORCHESTRA and OMNES:

Loud, frantic shouting.

SEAGOON:

Now, load that gun with thrup'ny bits. Careful! Don't point that gun at me. Point it up at the ceiling.

FX: Pistol shot. Whoosh. Door opens.

ECCLES:

Look, I'm rich!

FX: coin falls on floor

SEAGOON:

Pull up your pants at once! Now then, if possible we must take the savage portion of pudding alive.

BLOODNOK:

Are you mad? That Christmas Pudding can never be held captive inside anything.

SEAGOON:

Then we must dig a pudding pit, and line the sides with custard, so it can't climb out.

BLOODNOK:

Brilliant lad, brilliant. We have no time to waste. Ellington, play that crocodile quinge!

Ray Ellington Quartet: music.

GREENSLADE:

The Great International Christmas Pudding, third helping. A change of events. At dawn, a shock for our hunters.

GRAMS: Tribesmen calling and running. Gunfire.

BLOODNOK:

Great walloping scraggles of nurgle! Look over there!

SEAGOON:

Quick. Hand me my semi-circular grass telescope.

BLOODNOK:

There.

SEAGOON:

Gad! (narrative) Dear listeners. As I looked over my shoulder, I could see a terrible sight. Galloping at full tilt across the ~~~ hills was a savage portion of the Great International Christmas Pudding, hotly pursued by the ferocious tribe, the Naringi Burbas.

BLOODNOK:

Yes!

SEAGOON:

(narrative) Then, to our horror, they brought it down with a well aimed plasticine boomerang and saxophone mat. Yes, in a naughty words, we are forestalled!

BLOODNOK:

Don't worry lad, don't worry, it's a blessing in disguise.

FX: Knocking

SEAGOON:

Heavens, it's two men carrying a door. Come in.

GRYTPYPE:

Hello Neddie.

SEAGOON:

Grytpype! So glad you came. Bad news. Bad, bad news.(at this point, Secombe gets rather muddled and messes up the next line) The Naringi Burbas have captured the last pudding of the International Christmas Pudding portion. Ahahaha! Well, you know what I mean, don't you Grytpype? Anyway, they've had a go at it. Hmmhmm.

MORIARTY:

Don't worry Neddie. We have with us a guide here who knows where they live.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Yes, I know where they live, my capitain! Enter Bluebottle on cardboard horse. Signals applause on gramophone record.

GRAMS: Applause and cheering.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Stop! I have had my fill of the clapping. Puts record in knapsack for next week.

SEAGOON:

Little East Finchley Arab chieftain in brown suede shoes.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Ohh.

SEAGOON:

Lead us to the city of the Naringi Burbas and this quarter of jelly babies is yours.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Ohhhoh. Yehehe! I like this game! Follow me!

ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link

BLUEBOTTLE sings under..

SEAGOON:

(narrative)Following the tracks of the Naringi Burbas, Bluebottle led us to the great mud-walled city of Ice-Ack-Ton.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Yes, there it is capitain! Now for my reward.

SEAGOON:

Here then, is your quarter of jelly babies.

BLUEBOTTLE:

Oooh! Thank you! Thinks. These jelly babies will increase my powers of influence at school! This will make Molly Nasher think twice about me at playtime! Thinks again. I know, I will taunt her with my jelly babies. I will be a man of wealth and mystery! Nhingying! I will make her forget about that rotten swine Harold Lane and his Tony Curtis-type haircut!

SEAGOON:

I say. the gates of the city aren't locked and there's no-one about.

BLOODNOK.

Flap me nurglers, the city's deserted.

MORIARTY:

Sapristi yuckakakakuing!

FX: Roaring

MORIARTY:

Oh, run for your lives! Look! the savage portion of the pudding has escaped!

SEAGOON:

(narrative) As he spoke, the terrible pudding sprang into the deserted courtyard, its holly thrashing to and fro.

MORIARTY:

Sapristi Nyackoes! I know why the natives have fled. That pudding has hydrophobia!

SEAGOON:

Don't panic! (BLOODNOK under: What?) Don't panic chaps. Play it with the pudding cloth (???) while I get this plate under it.

OMNES: Shouting

SEAGOON:

Got it! Quick, quick, put the dish cover on!

FX: Clang

BLOODNOK:

Well done Ned. Unless you give that pudding an anti-hydrophobia injection, I promise you it won't live!

MORIARTY:

Yes Neddie, you will have to do it. Take this hypodermic syringe.

SEAGOON:

All right, lift the dish-cover. Now!

FX: Roaring

SEAGOON:

Under you go. Aah.

FX: Clang

GRYTPYPE:

Well done Moriarty. that pudding will be worth a fortune. Now we'll ditch Neddie.

MORIARTY and GRYTPYPE:

(Laugh) Hahahahahah (etc)

FX: Knocking on dish cover

MORIARTY:

Wait! He's knocking. Lift up the cover. Hup!

SEAGOON:

Ah. Thank you.

MORIARTY:

Neddie! How's the pudding?

SEAGOON:

(burps) Delicious!

MORIARTY:

You swine Seagoon!

ORCHESTRA: Begin play out.

GREENSLADE:

Hold it, stop it, that's enough. Wooah, just a moment, wait a moment. Wait a moment. Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Jim Pills.

SPRIGGS:

(sings, melodies divine)(40 seconds worth)

GREENSLADE:

Right right, thank you. Thank you Mr. Pills. Mr. Pills was brought along to fill in as the programme was under-running.

ORCHESTRA: Play out

GREENSLADE:

(over)That was the Goon Show, a 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 and the programme produced by Peter Eton.

_________________

I'm not really here- it's all an illusion!