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**** The Spam Sketch **** **** From the second series of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" **** **** Transcribed 9/17/87 from "Monty Python's Previous Record" **** (Spam = Spiced Pork And Ham, a sort of cheap luncheon meat) Scene: A cafe. One table is occupied by a group of Vikings with horned helmets on. A man and his wife enter. Man (Eric Idle): You sit here, dear. Wife (Graham Chapman in drag): All right. Man (to Waitress): Morning! Waitress (Terry Jones, in drag as a bit of a rat-bag): Morning! Man: Well, what've you got? Waitrss: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam; Vikings (starting to chant): Spam spam spam spam... Waitrss: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam and spam... Vikings (singing): Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Waitrss: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam. Wife: Have you got anything without spam? Waitrss: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it. Wife: I don't want ANY spam! Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage? Wife: THAT'S got spam in it! Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it? Vikings: Spam spam spam spam (crescendo through next few lines) Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then? Waitrss: Urgghh! Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam! Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!) Waitrss: Shut up! Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Waitrss: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam. Wife (shrieks): I don't like spam! Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam! Vikings (singing): Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Waitrss: Shut up!! Baked beans are off. Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then? Waitrss: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam and spam?... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words) Vikings (singing elaborately): Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Lovely spam! Wonderful Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam!Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam! **** The Spanish Inquisition Sketch **** **** From "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and "And Now for Something **** **** Completely Different" **** Graham Chapman: Trouble at mill. Carol Cleveland: Oh no - what kind of trouble? Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treddle. Cleveland: Pardon? Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treddle. Cleveland: I don't understand what you're saying. Chapman: (slightly irritatedly and with exaggeratedly clear accent) One of the cross beams has gone out askew on the treddle. Cleveland: Well what on earth does that mean? Chapman: *I* don't know - Mr. Wentworth just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at the mill, that's all - I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition. (JARRING CHORD) (The door flies open and Cardinal Ximinez of Spain (Palin) enters, flanked by two junior cardinals. Cardinal Biggles (Jones) has goggles pushed over his forehead. Cardinal Fang (Gilliam) is just Cardinal Fang) Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our *three* weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.... Our *four*...no... *Amongst* our weapons.... Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise.... I'll come in again. (Exit and exeunt) Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition. (JARRING CHORD) (The cardinals burst in) Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms - Oh damn! (To Cardinal Biggles) I can't say it - you'll have to say it. Biggles: What? Ximinez: You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief weapons are ...' Biggles: (rather horrified): I couldn't do that... (Ximinez bundles the cardinals outside again) Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition. (JARRING CHORD) (The cardinals enter) Biggles: Er.... Nobody...um.... Ximinez: Expects... Biggles: Expects... Nobody expects the...um...the Spanish...um... Ximinez: Inquisition. Biggles: I know, I know! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect - Ximinez: Our chief weapons are... Biggles: Our chief weapons are...um...er... Ximinez: Surprise... Biggles: Surprise and -- Ximinez: Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah! ...our chief weapons are surprise...blah blah blah. Cardinal, read the charges. Fang: You are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates commit heresy against the Holy Church. 'My old man said follow the--' Biggles: That's enough. (To Cleveland) Now, how do you plead? Cleveland: We're innocent. Ximinez: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! (Superimposed caption: 'DIABOLICAL LAUGHTER') Biggles: We'll soon change your mind about that! (Superimposed caption: 'DIABOLICAL ACTING') Ximinez: Fear, surprise, and a most ruthless-- (controls himself with a supreme effort) Ooooh! Now, Cardinal -- the rack! (Biggles produces a plastic-coated dish-drying rack. Ximinez looks at it and clenches his teeth in an effort not to lose control. He hums heavily to cover his anger) Ximinez: You....Right! Tie her down. (Fang and Biggles make a pathetic attempt to tie her on to the drying rack) Ximinez: Right! How do you plead? Cleveland: Innocent. Ximinez: Ha! Right! Cardinal, give the rack (oh dear) give the rack a turn. (Biggles stands their awkwardly and shrugs his shoulders) Biggles: I.... Ximinez: (gritting his teeth) I *know*, I know you can't. I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake. Biggles: I... Ximinez: It makes it all seem so stupid. Biggles: Shall I...? Ximinez: No, just pretend for God's sake. Ha! Ha! Ha! (Biggles turns an imaginary handle on the side of the dish-rack) (Cut to them torturing a dear old lady, Marjorie Wilde). Ximinez: Now, old woman -- you are accused of heresy on three counts -- heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action -- *four* counts. Do you confess? Wilde: I don't understand what I'm accused of. Ximinez: Ha! Then we'll make you understand! Biggles! Fetch...THE CUSHIONS! (JARRING CHORD) (Biggles holds out two ordinary modern household cushions) Biggles: Here they are, lord. Ximinez: Now, old lady -- you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin of heresy, reject the works of the ungodly -- *two* last chances. And you shall be free -- *three* last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance. Wilde: I don't know what you're talking about. Ximinez: Right! If that's the way you want it -- Cardinal! Poke her with the soft cushions! (Biggles carries out this rather pathetic torture) Ximinez: Confess! Confess! Confess! Biggles: It doesn't seem to be hurting her, lord. Ximinez: Have you got all the stuffing up one end? Biggles: Yes, lord. Ximinez (angrily hurling away the cushions): Hm! She is made of harder stuff! Cardinal Fang! Fetch...THE COMFY CHAIR! (JARRING CHORD) (Zoom into Fang's horrified face) Fang (terrified): The...Comfy Chair? (Biggles pushes in a comfy chair -- a really plush one) Ximinez: So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft cushions. Well, we shall see. Biggles! Put her in the Comfy Chair! (They roughly push her into the Comfy Chair) Ximinez (with a cruel leer): Now -- you will stay in the Comfy Chair until lunch time, with only a cup of coffee at eleven. (aside, to Biggles) Is that really all it is? Biggles: Yes, lord. Ximinez: I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we? Confess, woman. Confess! Confess! Confess! Confess! Biggles: I confess! Ximinez: Not you! **** EVERY SPERM IS SACRED (Michael Palin & Terry Jones) **** **** by Michael Palin and Terry Jones **** **** from Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life" **** There are Jews in the world, there are Buddhists, there are Hindus and Mormons and then there are those that follow Mohammed -but- I've never been one of them. I am a Roman Catholic and have been since before I was born, and the one thing they say about Catholics is they'll take you as soon as you're warm. You don't have to be a six-footer. You don't have to have a great brain. You don't have to have any clothes on, you're a Catholic the moment dad came ...Because... Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great, If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate. (2x) Let the heathens spill theirs, on the dusty ground. God shall make them pay for Each sperm that can't be found. Every sperm is wanted, every sperm is good. Every sperm is needed, in your neighborhood. Hindu, Taoist, Mormon, spill theirs just anywhere but God loves those who treat their semen with more care. (misc choruses) Every sperm is useful, every sperm is fine. God needs everybodies, mine, and mine, and mine. Let the pagans spill theirs on mountain hill and plain. God shall strike them down for each sperm that's spilled in vain. (misc. choruses and finale) **** The string sketch **** **** Transcribed from "The Instant Monty Python Record Collection" **** Adrian Wapcaplet: Aah, come in, come in, Mr....Simpson. Aaah, welcome to Mousebat, Follicle, Goosecreature, Ampersand, Spong, Wapcaplet, Looseliver, Vendetta and Prang! Mr. Simpson: Thank you. Wapcap: Do sit down--my name's Wapcaplet, Adrian Wapcaplet... Simpsn: How'd'y'do. Wapcap: Now, Mr. Simpson... Simpson, Simpson... French, is it? Simpsn: No. Wapcap: Aah. Now, I understand you want us to advertise your washing powder. Simpsn: String. Wapcap: String, washing powder, what's the difference. We can sell *anything*. Simpsn: Good. Well I have this large quantity of string, a hundred and twenty- two thousand *miles* of it to be exact, which I inherited, and I thought if I advertised it-- Wapcap: Of course! A national campaign. Useful stuff, string, no trouble there. Simpsn: Ah, but there's a snag, you see. Due to bad planning, the hundred and twenty-two thousand miles is in three inch lengths. So it's not very useful. Wapcap: Well, that's our selling point! "SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL STRINGETTES!" Simpsn: What? Wapcap: "THE NOW STRING! READY CUT, EASY TO HANDLE, SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL EMPEROR STRINGETTES - JUST THE RIGHT LENGTH!" Simpsn: For what? Wapcap: "A MILLION HOUSEHOLD USES!" Simpsn: Such as? Wapcap: Uhmm...Tying up very small parcels, attaching notes to pigeons' legs, uh, destroying household pests... Simpsn: Destroying household pests?! How? Wapcap: Well, if they're bigger than a mouse, you can strangle them with it, and if they're smaller than, you flog them to death with it! Simpsn: Well *surely*!.... Wapcap: "DESTROY NINETY-NINE PERCENT OF KNOWN HOUSEHOLD PESTS WITH PRE-SLICED, RUSTPROOF, EASY-TO-HANDLE, LOW CALORIE SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL EMPEROR STRINGETTES, FREE FROM ARTIFICIAL COLORING, AS USED IN HOSPITALS!" Simpsn: 'Ospitals!?!?!?!!? Wapcap: Have you ever in a Hospital where they didn't have string? Simpsn: No, but it's only *string*! Wapcap: ONLY STRING?! It's everything! It's...it's waterproof! Simpsn: No it isn't! Wapcap: All right, it's water resistant then! Simpsn: It isn't! Wapcap: All right, it's water absorbent! It's...Super Absorbent String! "ABSORB WATER TODAY WITH SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL WATER ABSORB-A-TEX STRINGETTES! AWAY WITH FLOODS!" Simpsn: You just said it was waterproof! Wapcap: "AWAY WITH THE DULL DRUDGERY OF WORKADAY TIDAL WAVES! USE SIMPSON'S INDIVIDUAL FLOOD PREVENTERS!" Simpsn: You're mad! Wapcap: Shut up, shut up, shut up! Sex, sex sex, must get sex into it. Wait, I see a television commercial- There's this nude woman in a bath holding a bit of your string. That's great, great, but we need a doctor, got to have a medical opinion. There's a nude woman in a bath with a doctor--that's too sexy. Put an archbishop there watching them, that'll take the curse off it. Now, we need children and animals. There's two kids admiring the string, and a dog admiring the archbishop who's blessing the string. Uhh...international flavor's missing...make the archbishop Greek Orthodox. Why not Archbishop Macarios? No, no, he's dead... nevermind, we'll get his brother, it'll be cheaper... So, there's this nude woman.... **** A trial scene from Monty Python **** Bailiff (Cleese): I'm sorry I'm late, m'lud, I couldn't find a kosher car park. Don't bother to recap, m'lud, I'll pick it up as we go along. Call Mrs. Fiona Lewis. (Enter Chapman, in drag) Fiona Lewis (Chapman): I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so anyway, I said to her, I said, they can't afford that on what he earns, I mean for a start the feathers get up your nose, I ask you, four and sixpence a pound, and him with a wooden leg, I don't know how she puts up with it after all the trouble she's had with her you-know-what, anyway, it *was* a white wedding, much to everyone's surprise, of course they bought everything on the hire purchase, I think they ought to send them back where they came from, I mean you've got to be cruel to be kind, so Mrs. Harris said, so she said she said she said, a dead crab she said she said? well her sister's gone to Rhodesia, what with her womb and all, and her youngest, fit as a filing cabinet, and the goldfish, the goldfish, they've got whooping-cough, they keep spitting water at the Bratbys, well they *do*, don't they, I mean, you can't*, can you, I mean they're not even married or anything, they're not even *divorced*, and he's in the KGB if you ask me, he says he's a tree surgeon, but I don't like the sound of his liver, all that squeaking and banging every night till the small hours, well, his mother's been much better since she had her head off, don't you talk to me about bladders, I said... **** More Monty Python!!! A little-known biblical lesson **** **** Transcribed by Bret "Who else?" Shefter ( SHEBREB@YALEVM.BITNET ) **** St. Victor of Python And it came to pass that Saint Victor was taken from this place to another place, where he was lain to rest himself amongst sheets of muslin and velvet. And there stroked was he by maidens of the Orient. For sixteen days and nights stroked they him, yea verily and caressed him. His hair, ruffled they. And their fingers rubbethed they in oil of olives, and ranneth them across all parts of his body for as much as to soothe him. And the soles of his feet licked they. And the upper parts of his thigh did they anoint with the balm of forbidden trees. And with the teeth of their mouths, nibbled they the pointed bits at the top of his ears. Yea verily, and did their tongues thereof make themselves acquainted with his most secret places. For fifteen days and nights did Victor withstand these maidens, until he cried out, saying: "This...is fantastic! Oh...this is *terrific!!*" And the Lord did here the cry of Victor. And verily came He down and slew the maidens. And caused their cottonwool bugs to blow away, and their Kleenex to be laid waste utterly. And Victor, in his anguish, cried out that the Lord was a rotten bastard. So the Lord sent an angel to comfort Victor for the weekend. And entered they together the jaccuzzi. Here endeth the lesson. **** THE UNDERTAKER SKETCH **** **** from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album **** Man: (entering a shop) Um, excuse me, is this the undertaker's? Undertaker: Yup, that's right, what can I do for you, squire? Man: Um, well, I wonder if you can help me. My mother has just died and I'm not quite sure what I should do. Undrtk: Ah, well, we can 'elp you. We deal with stiffs. Man: (aghast) Stiffs? Undrtk: Yea. Now there's three things we can do with your mum. We can bury her, burn her, or dump her. Man: Dump her? Undrtk: Dump her in the Thames. Man: (still aghast) What? Undrtk: Oh, did you like her? Man: Yes! Undrtk: Oh well, we won't dump her, then. Well, what do you think: burn her, or bury her? Man: Um, well, um, which would you recommend? Undrtk: Well they're both nasty. If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead. But quick. And then you get a box of ashes, which you can pretend are hers. Man: (timidly) Oh. Undrtk: Or, if you don't wanna fry her, you can bury her. And then she'll get eaten up by maggots and weevils, nibble, nibble, nibble, which isn't so hot if, as I said, she's not quite dead. Man: I see. Um. Well, I.. I.. I.. I'm not very sure. She's definitely dead. Undrtk: Where is she? Man: In the sack. Undrtk: Let's 'ave a look. (FX: rustle of bag opening) Undrtk: Umm, she looks quite young. Man: Yes, she was. Undrtk: (over his shoulder) FRED! Fred: (offstage) Yea! Undrtk: I THINK WE'VE GOT AN EATER! Fred: (offstage) I'll get the oven on! Man: Um, er...excuse me, um, are you... are you suggesting we should eat my mother? (pause) Undrtk: Yeah. Not raw, not raw. We cook her. She'd be delicious with a few french fries, a bit of stuffing. Delicious! (smacks his lips) Man: What! (he stammers) (pause) Man: Actually, I do feel a bit peckish - No! NO, I can't! Undrtk: Look, we'll eat your mum. Then, if you feel a bit guilty about it afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up into it. Man: All right. **** The Crunchy Frog Sketch **** **** From "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl" and **** **** "Monty Python Live at City Center 1974" **** Inspector: 'ELLO! Mr. Hilton: 'Ello. Inspector: Mr. 'ilton? Hilton: A-yes? Insp. : You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company? Hilton: I am, yes. Insp. : Constable Clitoris and I are from the 'ygiene squad, and we'd like to have a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the "Whizzo Quality Assortment". Hilton: Oh, yes. Insp. : If I may begin at the beginning. First there is the Cherry Fondue. Now this is extremely nasty. (pause) But we can't prosecute you for that. Hilton: Ah, agreed. Insp. : Then we have number four. Number four: Crunchy Frog. Hilton: Yes. Insp. : Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in 'ere? Hilton: Yes, a little one. Insp. : What sort of frog? Hilton: A...a *dead* frog. Insp. : Is it cooked? Hilton: No. Insp. : What, a RAW frog?!? Hilton: Oh, we use only the finest baby frogs, dew-picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and sealed in a succulent, Swiss, quintuple-smooth, treble-milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly frosted with glucose. Insp. : That's as may be, but it's still a frog! Hilton: What else? Insp. : Well, don't you even take the bones out? Hilton: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it? Insp. : Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public! Clit. : Uh, would you excuse me a moment, Sir? (exits) Insp. : We have to protect the public! People aren't going to think there's a real frog in chocolate! Constable Clitoris thought it was an almond whirl! They're bound to expect some sort of mock frog! Hilton: (outraged) MOCK frog!?! We use NO artificial additives or preservatives of ANY kind! Insp. : Nevertheless, I advise you in future to replace the words "Crunchy Frog" with the legend, "Crunchy, Raw, Unboned Real Dead Frog" if you wish to avoid prosecution! Hilton: What about our sales? Insp. : FUCK your sales! We've got to protect the public! Now what about this one, number five, it was number five, wasn't it? Number five: Ram's Bladder Cup. (beat) Now, what sort of confectionery is that?!? Hilton: Oh, we use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish Ram's bladder, emptied, steamed, flavored with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark's vomit. Insp. : LARK'S VOMIT?!?!? Hilton: Correct. Insp. : It doesn't say anything here about lark's vomit! Hilton: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after "monosodium glutamate". Insp. : I hardly think that's good enough! I think it's be more appropriate if the box bore a great red label: "WARNING: LARK'S VOMIT!!!" Hilton: Our sales would plummet! Insp. : (screaming) Well why don't you move into more conventional areas of confectionery??!! (the constable returns) Insp. : Like Praline, or, or Lime Creme, a very popular flavor, I'm lead to understand. Or Raspberry Lite. I mean, what's this one, what's this one? 'Ere we are: Cockroach Cluster! -- -- Anthrax Ripple! Clit. : MMMMWWWAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!! ** For those of you watching this transcript on your terminal, the young ** ** constable has just thrown up into his helmet. This is the longest ** ** continuous vomit seen on Broadway since John Barrymore puked over Laertes ** ** in the second act of Hamlet in 1941. ** Insp. : (continuing) And what is this one: Spring Surprise? Hilton: Ah, that's one of our specialities. Covered in dark, velvety chocolate, when you pop it into your mouth, stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge straight through both cheeks. Insp. : (stunned) Well where's the pleasure in THAT?!? If people pop a nice little chockie into their mouth, they don't expect to get their cheeks pierced!!! In any case, it is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat. I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station. Hilton: (shrugging) It's a fair cop. Insp. : And DON'T talk to the audience. **** The Australian Table Wines sketch **** From Monty Python A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette, but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain. "Black Stump Bordeaux" is rightly praised as a peppermint flavored Burgundy, whilst a good "Sydney Syrup" can rank with any of the world's best sugary wines. "Chateau Bleu", too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and its lingering afterburn. "Old Smokey, 1968" has been compared favorably to a Welsh claret, whilst the Australian wino society thoroughly recommends a 1970 "Coq du Rod Laver", which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: 8 bottles of this, and you're really finished -- at the opening of the Sydney Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an hour. Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is "Perth Pink". This is a bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!. This is not a wine for drinking -- this is a wine for laying down and avoiding. Another good fighting wine is "Melbourne Old-and-Yellow", which is particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat. Quite the reverse is true of "Chateau Chunder", which is an Appalachian control, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation -- a fine wine which really opens up the sluices at both ends. Real emetic fans will also go for a "Hobart Muddy", and a prize winning "Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wogga Wogga", which has a bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.

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