The Series: An Unfinished Transcript
Rutland Weekend Television



EMCEE [idle], SITTING IN A CHEAP ANNOUNCER SET, WEARING A LOUD CHECKED SUIT AND A BLONDE WIG A LA DIDDY DAVID HAMILTON.  SOUNDS OF PARTYING ARE HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.  HE GUSHES IN A GURGLY, EXCITED MANNER

EMCEE Good evening, and a very very special welcome to the very very first evening's viewing on Rutland Weekend Television.  Tonight is a very very special occasion, as you can imagine. There's a very very special party going on, as you can imagine, live in the centre of Rutland tonight, as you can imagine.  All the stars, as you can imagine, are there, waiting to talk to Pete Murray, as you can imagine.  But before we go over there I'm gonna have a little something here with you to celebrate, as you can imagine.

(OPENS BOTTLE OF CHAMPAGNE, AND ATTEMPTS TO POUR SOME INTO A GLASS.  THE BOTTLE IS TOTALLY EMPTY.  IDLE KEEPS SMILING, TOSSES THE BOTTLE TOP ASIDE AND GIGGLES, OBVIOUSLY A BIT CRESTFALLEN)

EMCEE Great.  Well we'll be going over to the party at the moment, as you can imagine, but right now we're all set to enjoy the very first programme on Rutland Weekend Television.  (LOOKS TOWARDS MONITOR)



HOST [Eric]: Ham sandwich, bucket and water plastic duralex rubber McFisheries' underwear. Plugged rabbit emulsion, zinc custard without sustainance in kippling-duff geriatric scenery, maximizes press insulating government grunting sapphire-clubs incidentally. But tonight, sam pan bombay bermuda in diptheria rustic McAlpine splendor, rabbit and and futfutfooey jugs rapidly big biro ruveliners musk-green gauges micturate with nipples and tiptoe rusting machinery, rustically inclined. Good evening and welcome.

AGED GUEST [Henry Woolf]: Helloo.

HOST: (to guest) Foreskin mousetrap view Mount Everest tintray lobotomy in England?

GUEST: Saddleback, saddleback. Lechery billboard kettlebum simpering snuff masticated bowelside handset lemonade enterprisingly apartheid rubberized plumbjoint curvaceously mucking squirrels!

HOST: I see. Rapidly piddlepot strumming Hanover peace pudding (polite chuckle) mouse rumpling cuddly corridor cabinets?

GUEST: Sick in a cup! Toejam whisper tap sunderland shower-curtain, ice wallpaper cups grounchingly rubberking wrapped butter kissing-feathers defnitely pheasantry daughter successfully douche dinner-bottom.

HOST: (in confidential way) Machine-wrapped, with butter?

GUEST: Machine-wrapped, with butter.

HOST: (to audience) So, nail-attacking butterfly-clouts reputedly. Without I might galvanize sugar, elbow-wrenchingly heartfelt until purse-playing perspicaceously rattled mandibled on asinine shoestring-drawn two lost three butter-machismo whenever cobbled therein. Good night.

GUEST: Good niight.

(We return to the emcee.  He does a confused double-take at the monitor.)

EMCEE Er...well that was...as you can imagine.  Just a reminder that we'll be going over later to this terrific party that they're having to celebrate the opening of Rutland Weekend Television but er... (THE CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE ON THE TABLE POPS OPEN AND A VOLCANIC QUANITY OF FLUID SPURTS OUT ALL OVER HIM.  IDLE CONTINUES GUSHING AND SMILING) ...right now we're gonna have some lovely music and er, ha ha, great.  As you can imagine.





This man to all appearances is an ordinary man
You wouldn't think to look at him that he had a single friend
The dirty mackintosh brigade pass him by without a glance
Yet if he took off his clothes right now he'd be boffed by all at once

Yes he's the star of the sexy movies (oh yeahhh!)
Though his life is rather grim (ooo-ooh!)
For wherever he goes, when he's wearing clothes
nobody recognizes him

He was Mister Kinks the milkman in "Peeping Tom Came 2"
He played the alcoholic in "Bathroom Frolic" and the bishop in "Kinda Blue"
We never saw his face in "The Dirty Boat Race" with the opulent Cambridge cock
He was the one with the friend third from the end who never took off his sock

Yes he's the star of the naughty movies
Oh what a life he's led
On bouncin' springs and all kinds of things
He's the king of the king-size bed

He played well-hung Roger in "The Artful Lodger"
Brian in "Whips Ahoy" (Whips Ahoy!)
He was Wicked Keith in "Sex Without Teeth"
The one with the vicar and the big blonde boy
He played the lead in "She Stayed and Peed"
Though his part was rather small (oooh!)
And it was tiny too in "The Girls Who Do"
You could hardly see it at all!

Yes he's the star of the dirty movies
And at night they film away
But when morning comes he rejoins his chums
A policeman during the day

Yes he's the star of the sexy movies
With a bazshwipe Desi O'Shea

But back on the beat he's kind of sweet
a policeman during the day
Oh yeah

POLICEMAN: Evenin' all!

(When we return to the studio, Idle is mopping himself down with a towel.)

IDLE (CHUCKLING) Well that was just great, as you can imagine.  Well, this whole evening is such fun and everyone's tremendously excited, as you can imagine, and now it's time to go over live to the party.

CAPTION: 'NORMAL SERVICE WILL BE RESUMED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE' WHICH IMMEDIATELY CATCHES FIRE.  CUT BACK TO IDLE, STILL GUSHING.

IDLE Well, great, just a few slight teething problems, as you can imagine, so let's go over now instead to, er... (FLOUNDERS) um, something else...great.




Hi there. My name is Solo. Stoop Solo. I do amazing things ... But right now I'd like to sing for you.

Stormy days (stormy days)
Cloudy skies (cloudy skies)
Wind and Rain (wind and rain)
Got a watery eye (watery eye)
Yellow leaves (yellow leaves)
Fall from the trees (from the trees)
I kick my way (kick my way)
Through memories (shut your face)

Rain and snow let the four winds blow
On my collar there's a long blonde hair
Now I know that's all I've got to show
For the love we used to share

I remember back in June
Our love was like a fire
And the song in our hearts sounded like a choir
But I held onto you like a hand holds water
But now it's September and the days get shorter

Rain and snow let the four winds blow
On my collar there's a long blonde hair
Now I know that's all I've got to show
For the love we used to share

Rain and snow let the four winds blow
On my collar there's a long blonde hair
Now I know that's all I've got to show
For the love...
we used...
to share

Thank you.

(Solo comes out of character and, looking off camera, mouths 'Was that alright?' Cut back to Idle:)

IDLE (ACKNOWLEDGING STOOP SOLO) Just terrific.  Well, as you can imagine, we've just heard from the party that Princess Grace of Monaco is definitely... not there which is just great.  Well, let's now... (THE LIGHTS FAIL PLUNGING IDLE INTO DARKNESS) ...oh, oh dear (THE SOUNDS OF PARTYING TURN TO BOOS AND JEERS.  IDLE HOLDS UP A LIGHTER) Oh, well we seem to have a slight...as you can imagine, so let's instead join tonight's documentary film.  Great.



CAPTION: THE WEEK AHEAD ON RWT - MONDAY: CHURCHILL'S CAT

V/O (IDLE) (CAPTIONS CHANGE THROUGHOUT, ILLUSTRATING THE VOICEOVER)Next Monday marks the 80th anniversary of the birth of Churchill's cat.  Rutland Weekend will be celebrating this event with a four-hour dramatisation of the cat's life, with Sir Laurence Olivier playing the vet and Arthur Askey as 'Puss'.  There's also an exhibition of Churchill's cat litters at the Victoria and Albert Museum, and you can buy a memorial medallion with a picture of Churchill and a little pussycat.  On Tuesday, at ten-thirty, you can see 'It's The Churchills again'.  This non-award-winning 192-part drama series continues with Lulu as Rita McChurchill, the little-known aunt of Fred Churchill who was to grow up to be not a relation of any of the famous ones.  Thursday night of course means 'Top Of The Pops'.

CLIP FROM SAID PROGRAMME.  POP MUSIC PLAYS (ACTUALLY THE INTRO FROM INNES' 'FRONT LOADER' WHICH FEATURES LATER IN THE SERIES).  TYPICAL SWIRLING 70s VIDEO FX.  WINSTON CHURCHILL DANCES TO THIS A LA PAN'S PEOPLE.  IT LOOKS QUITE UNNERVING.  CAPTION: 'CHURCHILL'S PEOPLE'.

V/O Well you can see more of Churchill's People on Top Of The Rutland Pops on Thursday.  Just some of the things you can look forward to on Rutland Weekend.



(return to Idle, still in darkness, no sounds of partying, booing or otherwise and a small lantern on the table:)

IDLE Well I'm afraid that, as you can imagine, that's about it for this week.  We shall maybe go over live to the party next week if there's still anybody there, as you can imagine. (WE HEAR AN OMINOUS CREAKING SOUND) Until then, a big kiss from me and see you next week, as you can imagine... (THE CEILING STARTS TO COLLAPSE, COVERING IDLE WITH DEBRIS.  HE SMILES THROUGHOUT) ...just great... ha ha... terrific... ha ha...






ANNOUNCER: Well now, it's Cookery Time, introduced, as usual, by Lenin.

(Lively opening music)

LENIN: Hello Comrades! Last week I showed you how to make the party go with the swing, by making pretty little angel cakes. Comrade Trotsky has a different recipe for this, but, uh, we are going to deal with him. But this week I wanted to show you an old Marxist recipe, Marks [Marx] Pudding.

MARX: Hello Comrades! Here is a recipe I found in the British Museum. First, make some batter, then put the eggs in the batter, then put the batter in the oven. Then wait for the collapse of the entire bourgeois capitalist system. Set the table, politicize the proletariat, replace the decadent bourgeoisie, activate the workers. Remove from the oven, serve from four to six people. Ah! Delicious, if a bit decadent...

LENIN: What a wonderful recipe, thank you, Karl. Incidentally, it's still not too late to write in and tell us what your neighbours are doing. But now, here's Joe, with a new way to cook eggs.

STALIN: Capture a dozen eggs. When you've captured them, take them outside, and shoot them. Then, round up the rest of the ingredients, and take them outside, and shoot them. When you've made the omelette, don't trust it: shoot it. (bang) Then shoot all the rest of the ingredients. (bang) Then shoot all the people who've come to eat the omelette. (bang) And shoot the little kettle! (bang) And shoot the teapot! (bang) And shoot the ladder! (bang) And shoot everything! (bang) Shoot! (bang) Shoot! (bang)

Then eat the omelette.

LENIN: You can't make an omelette without breaking the kitchen.
(singing)
LENIN: Whenever the bourgeoisie get you down, and revisionism's looking blue

ALL: Get into the kitchen, get out your pans, and cook a little dish or two

MARX: Whenever the decline of the capitalist system seems to be coming true

ALL: Get into your kitchen, get out your pans, and cook a little dish or two
Here's our recipe if you want to be free
The future lies in your hands
Don't go on bitchin', get into (the) (a) kitchen (*both are said)
And rattle, rattle, rattle them pots and pans

STALIN: Whenever you've shot all the people to shoot, and you've shot the firing squad, too
Get into the kitchen, get out your pans, and shoot a little dish or two

LENIN: Shoot one for me, Joe!

ALL: Shoot a little dish or two

MARX: Make mine a bourgeois!

ALL: Shoot a little dish or two, too

STALIN: Toodle-oo

ANOTHER ANNOUNCER: Joseph Stalin is currently appearing with Cilla Black at the "Talk of the Town", Newkie. Karl Marx is a National Theatre Player.

HENRY ANNOUNCING: Hello. Well from Swimming, we move on now to our next program, from Earl's Court, the International Rabbit Show...

WOOLF Well, she certainly was a stunner.  And now, in a similar vein, it's time for Underwater Golf. 

A 'KING AND I' SET UP.  THE WOMAN SINGS 'GETTING TO KNOW YOU WELL'.  THE YUL BRYNNER CHARACTER BEATS HER UP WITH MARTIAL ARTS MOVES.

CAPTION: 'THE KUNG & I'




TITLE: "The End."

(A rather dirty-looking MAN [Neil], on film, is staring at the closed-down Off-License shop. Now music is playing, with a bit of Irish influence. He turns around and starts to sing a sweet song. But his lips, as it goes on, match the words less and less.)

There's no song for the singer
No words for the tune
There's a mess in the message

TITLE: "This man is miming."

And a man on the moon
There's no plan in the planet

TITLE: "Very badly."

It's all gone berserk
There's a milk bottle shortage
And the traffic lights don't work

TITLE: "No I'm not."

(Pull out to show Neil in the studio, clearer now, holding a sign with those exact words in his hands and miming the song perfectly.)

Lie down and be counted
Don't take any more
Lie down and be counted
What are we standing for?

But there's hope for the couples (throws sign down) who stroll in the park
There's nuclear power to light up the dark (stock footage)
There's national health and ice in the fridge
And the occasional cow on a motorway bridge
There's extended credit on easier terms
And something to kill all known household germs
There's sofas and armchairs and washing machines
Stars on Sunday, fishfingers and beans

Lie down and be counted
Don't take any more
Lie down and be counted
What are we standing for?

There's no song for the singer, no words for the tune
There's a mess in the message and a man on the moon
There's no plan in the planet, it's all gone berserk
There's an everything shortage and the traffic lights still don't work

Lie down and be counted
Don't take any more
Lie down and be counted
What are we standing for?

(The final bit of stock footage is shots of graves.)

Lie down and be counted
Don't take any more
Lie down and be counted
What are we standing for?

(Irish riff from the beginning repeats and we return to "Come Dancing.")

HOST [Eric]: Well, there you have it, if you're lucky enough, and who isn't lucky enough with the lovely Maureen, who incidentally is fourteen stone today, and looking for every inch of it.



I throw house bricks for The Arsenal
I chuck lead pipe for West Ham
I kick and maim for Chelsea
I kill for Tottenham
I drop bottles for United on the crowd from up above
Yes football is the game that we all love

I razor slash for Sheffield
I cut 'em up for Q.P.R.
I stick nails in 'em for Norwich
For Leeds I slash and scar
For Celtic I throw petrol bombs whenever our teams score
Yes football is the game that we adore

We all love football
Kill rape slash AAH
We all love football
Shoot stab boot AAH
Football is the game that we adore

I hack limbs off for Newcastle
I rape for Luton Town
For the Rangers I kill strangers
And kick police horses down
I set fire to referees who let opponents score
Yes football is the game that we adore

We all love football
Bomb hurt kill AHH
We all love football
Slash Kick maim AHH
Football is the game that we adore

The end.

(screams of agony)

SAMUELS: Ah, come in, uh, Collier. Now, the padre tells me you've not been to church parade again.

COLLIER: Yes, sir.

SAMUELS: Why?

COLLIER: I'm an Agnostic, sir.

SAMUELS: Last week, you told me you were an Atheist.

COLLIER: Uh, yes, sir, but this week I don't necessarily deny the existence of a supreme being, I just question its particular existence in a theological sense, and deny that it is necessarily good.

SAMUELS: You told the padre you were a Black Muslim.

COLLIER: Yes sir.

SAMUELS: Well?

COLLIER: Uh, well, sir, I toyed with the idea, sir...

SAMUELS: But?

COLLIER: Well, I'm not black, sir, I, I thought of blacking up, but it seemed to make a mockery of the whole thing.

SAMUELS: So you became a White Muslim.

COLLIER: No, sir, I became Jewish.

SAMUELS: What?!

COLLIER: Uh, yes, only for a day, sir, I was kosher for a day, and then I realized that the Jewish god was the same as the Christian's, with some, only with some silly food regulations.

SAMUELS: So you became an Agnostic.

COLLIER: No, sir, I became a Seventh Day Adventist.

SAMUELS: What happened?

COLLIER: Well, I was on guard duty on the seventh day, and I missed it.

SAMUELS: Collier, the army isn't here to furnish you in a career of comparative religions. Why don't you just choose one... stick to it?
COLLIER: Well, sir, I can't find on that's comfortable, sir. Um, could I start one, sir?

SAMUELS: Self-worship, Collier?

COLLIER: Uh, no, sir, not me, sir.

SAMUELS: Well, who or what would you worship?

COLLIER: Well, I rather wondered whether you would care to take on the job, sir, be the Supreme Being, and then we could adore you, sir. There's uh, Corporal Harrington, Bombardier Wells...

SAMUELS: Collier, you can't worship your commanding officer, even in the British Army.


AND YET ANOTHER ANNOUNCER: But they did. All through the 1950's, Brigadier Samuels was accepted as THE Supreme Being of B Division on the Rhine. Collier became first a Lance Corporal, and then an archbishop in the regiment. Brigadier Samuels was worshipped on Tuesday afternoons, after fire practice, behind the tents, and after awhile, his religion spread to several other regiments, including the Welsh Fusiliers, The Horseguards, and the Worican Worcesters. By the early 1960's, he'd become THE god in the British Army, bigger than Major Hutchinson, who was worshipped by the Scots and Irish regiments, and rivalling even Uberloitenenthant Fufner, the official NATO god. In 1964, an attempt was made to deny his existence. This was probably the work of Master Sergeant Sy Kirkoffer, the official god of the C.I.A. His brother, Ronnie Kirkoffer, is possibly related to Simon Pribble, the official god of BBC 2. And Simon Pribble, himself, may be related to Yvonne Mitchell.


ANDY ROBERTS: Hello again. Yvonne Mitchell would like it to be made clear that she is not related to Simon Pribble, the official god of BBC2. However, she will be appearing soon on BBC 2, so please watch out for her. Meanwhile, here on Rutland Weekend Television, it's just coming up to my knees, and time once again for Thrust with Splig Utherism.



ANNOUNCER (BRIDGET ARMSTRONG) Hello again.  Well we've got an absolutely wonderful evening for you here on Rutland Weekend and I hope you enjoy it as often as I do, but right now it's time to enjoy Rutland Weekend Theatre.

CAPTION: RUTLAND WEEKEND THEATRE

AN UPPER-CLASS COUPLE ARE CANOODLING ON A BALCONY IN SOME EXOTIC-LOOKING LOCATION

WOMAN (ARMSTRONG) Darling.

MAN (BATTLEY) Yes darling?

WOMAN It's so vibrant, alive and throbbing.

MAN Oh, I'm sorry darling.

WOMAN No, no, the evening - alive, fierce, vibrant, exciting.  Oh, Asia!  Asia!

MAN Esher, darling.

WOMAN Aren't we near Hong Kong, darling?

MAN Nearer Righgate, darling.

WOMAN Oh. (SITS DOWN) Darling, there's... something I've been meaning to tell you.

MAN Yes darling?

WOMAN I'm in love with Archie Galbraith!

MAN Not Archie Galbraith!

WOMAN No, not Archie Galbraith... Um... name...  Paul Hamilton.

MAN But that's me, darling.

WOMAN Oh, is it?  Oh then it is you, darling.

MAN Oh, you're so wonderfully vague, Patricia.

WOMAN Yes I am, very vague.  But my name isn't Patricia though is it?

MAN Er, no it isn't.

WOMAN What is it?

MAN Dashed if I know, dear.

WOMAN Call the native boy and ask him.

MAN Don't think we have a native boy in Esher, dear.

WOMAN Oh, haven't we?

MAN I've...forgotten.

WOMAN Call and see anyway.

MAN Ah yes.  (CLAPS HANDS)  Hello, I say, erm is there anyone in there who lives with us?

A SECOND MAN ENTERS

MAN 2 (WOOLF) Hello.

MAN Oh, hello.  Look, ah, my name's Paul but I'm afraid we've forgotten my wife's name.  Who are you?

MAN 2 I'm your son.

MAN Oh hello, Good Lord, what's your name?

MAN 2 Daddy I've been living with you and Mummy for eighteen years!

WOMAN Yes, we want your name !

MAN 2 It's... (STAMMERS) I'm afraid I've forgotten.

MAN Listen, um, your mother can't remember who she's having an affair with.

MAN 2 Oh I know!

MAN Yes?

MAN 2 It's um, er... (STAMMERS AGAIN) I'm afraid I've forgotten his name.

A THIRD MAN ENTERS

MAN 3 (IDLE)  Someone to see you Sir.

MAN Oh, jolly good, show him in.  I'd quite forgotten we had a butler.

MAN 3 You don't, Sir.  I'm someone to see you, Sir.

MAN Ah...  Hello.

MAN 3 I want to marry Virginia.

MAN Who's Virginia?

MAN 3 You don't know who Virginia is?

MAN No.

MAN 3 Damn!  I was rather hoping you'd tell me.

MAN 2 It's not me, is it?

MAN 3 (PAUSE) No, I don't think so.

A FOURTH MAN ENTERS

MAN 4 (INNES) Harry..?

THE GATHERING LOOK AT HIM, CONFUSED.  HE RETURNS A CONFUSED LOOK.  CONFUSION ALL ROUND.




Once we had a donkey,
we kept it in the yard
One day in the winter
it was snowin' hard
Mother said the donkey
must be cold in the yard
Bring him in the kitchen
let him have a warm

In came the donkey,
bit me father's ear
Took it for a cabbage leaf
and broke the chandelier

Out went the gas
And then it came alight again

Poor father's head
The donkey took a bite again

Mother took a knife and fork
t'stick it in the ass
Stuck it in me father's head
and out went the gas

Ain't you mad you can't get at it?
Mother's sewn me drawers up




EMCEE [Neil]: Hello, and welcome to Rutland Weekend Television. Well, we've got a very good evening for you tonight ... in spite of the fact they never give us enough money. Well I mean, you can't run a television station on a shoestring budget. I mean, look at this suit. It's rubbish! I mean, feel the quality of that! Rubbish. They don't even own it. I mean it's all hired. None of this stuff's theirs. 'Course I don't want to say too much, I'm only the announcer. Anyway, it finishes tonight, all of it. It's all closing down. Not enough money for one thing. (whispers) They've overspent. (confidential look) Anyway -- welcome to Rutland Weekend, and now it's time for Religion Today.

CAPTION: "RELIGION TODAY."

(Appropriate music. Lights up on Brian [David Battley].)

BRIAN: Hello. Are people difficult bastards, or not? To help us find out we have in the studio a really difficult bastard ...

BASTARD [Eric]: Hello, good evening.

BRIAN: ... and the Bishop of Somerset.

BISHOP [Henry Woolf]: Geht-lowst.

BRIAN: Can I turn to you first, Bishop?

BISHOP: Shaddap.

BRIAN: Oh. -- Arthur Collier, you have the reputation of being an extremely difficult bastard.

BASTARD: Yes, that's right Brian, I certainly do have that reputation, most true.

BRIAN: Have you have this reputation for a long time?

BASTARD: For quite some while, certainly Brian, yes.

BRIAN: If you don't mind my saying so, you don't seem to me to be an extremely difficult bastard at all.

BASTARD: Oh, shut up! [disables him with a swift handchop to the neck] Right! Get this, and get it right. The Bishop and I have got Michael Aspel tied up in the basement, and unless a thousand pounds is put on the steps ...

BISHOP: And a crate of whiskey.

BASTARD: What?

BISHOP: And a crate of whiskey.

BASTARD: Oh. Unless a thousand pounds and a crate of whiskey is put on the ste ...

BISHOP: And a wristwatch.

BASTARD: What?

BISHOP: I need a new wristwatch.

BASTARD: What sort?

BISHOP: Mickey Mouse one.

BASTARD: All right, unless a thousand pounds, a crate of whiskey, and a Mickey Mouse wristwatch are put ...

BISHOP: And get some of those little chocolates.

BASTARD: What sort?

BISHOP: Those nice minty ones.

BASTARD: Yeah, all right. -- Unless a thousand pounds, a crate of whiskey, a Mickey Mouse wristwatch, and some of those nice minty choc-ys are put on the steps ... Is that all?

BISHOP: Yep.

BASTARD: Are you sure?

BISHOP: Yep.

BASTARD: Right! ... Are put on the steps ...

BISHOP: Ay! What about getting something for Nora?

BASTARD: Oh! Ah, good idea. What should we get her?

BISHOP: A hairdryer?

BASTARD: Yeah, good idea! ... We'll have to get something for Harry as well.

BISHOP: Get him some of those nice cigars.

BASTARD: Very good idea.

BISHOP: 'Ere, can I get you something?

BASTARD: Oh! That's very nice of you! Uh, I'd like some of those nice little seatcovers for the car.

BISHOP: Okay, just ask for it!

BASTARD: Oh! Thank you very much! Right, here is the revised list. Unless a thousand pounds, a crate of whiskey, a nice Mickey Mouse wristwatch, some nice minty choc-ys, a hairdryer, some cigarlets, and some of those nice lovely little seat covers for the car ...

BISHOP: And a barathea overcoat.

BASTARD: ... and a barathea overcoat ...

BISHOP: And some double glazing.

BASTARD: ... and some double glazing ...

(Cut back to emcee. The standard RWT-set flowers are missing.)

EMCEE: Well, it appears that Religion Today has been hijacked. I knew it was going to be one of those days. ... I'm not one to bitch, but you can't expect anything from security.

(Quick clip of security men asleep in bed.)

EMCEE: Well, it appears under the circumstances that the best thing we can do is play you some music. ... Look, can't we do anything about this suit?

(Show Neil, in a red t-shirt and cap, playing on a white piano against a backdrop of chromakey stars.)

NEIL: (singing) Singing a song is easy
Watchin' the world go by
If you were a song I'd sing you
But you're more than meets my eye
So lets sing a song together
Just like holding hands
Simple words and music
We can all understand

You can only love somebody
As much as you love yourself
So I'd like to wish you everything
that I would wish myself
Someone to care for you
Someone to fall in love
Someone to raise your voice to
Maybe someone up above
Someone to share your laughter
Someone to ease your pain
And if the song's worth singing
We'll sing it again and again

Singing a song is easy
When you're watchin' the world go by
If you were a song I'd sing you
But you're more than meets my eye
Sooo lets sing a song together
Just like holding hands
Simple words and music
We can all understand
Yes we can all understand

La la la la la la la...

(Back to the emcee. His suit jacket is missing, as is the table and the desklamp.)

EMCEE: Well, that was much better. Although again they could have spent a little more on it -- I mean, he wasn't even wearing a suit! ... Still. Let's see if we can go back to Religion Today.

(Back to Religion Today.)

BASTARD: ...and a pair of ex-U-boat Commander's binoculars, er, a year's subscription to the Exchange & Mart, and one of those nice fluffy toilet seat covers - any colour...

EMCEE: Obviously not. What about security?


(Quick shot of the sleeping security men.)

EMCEE: No, not a chance. Well, just a reminder that on Rutland Weekend Cinema, Arthur Thrush will be talking to - about his latest film, "Bring Me the Head of Light Entertainment." And now, our feature film, "Incident at Bromsgrove." Incidentally, for those of you with black-and-white sets ... color is much better.




L'amour perdu to circumstances
Et tout le monde et Tuesday too
Avec le raison d'»tre-mental
Cynical comment allez-vous
"Ello Sailor" m»me choses you love me
Et je t'adore et windows too
Regardez-moi poor heart is aching
Toujours l'amour et merci beacoup



NARRATOR [Eric]: This man is suffering from love songs. It's incurable, but worth a fortune.

I feel good
I feel bad
I feel happy
I feel sad
Do you think I'm in love? (aahaah)
I must be in love

I feel rich (oooh, la la la)
I feel poor (oooh, la la la)
I'm in doubt (oooh, la la la)
I feel sure (oooh, la la la)
Am I in love? (aahaah)
I must be in love

Any time of the day I can see
(I can see her face)
Her face, when I close my eyes
Ooooooh!
She's a dream (she's a dream)
She is real (she is real)
Can't explain (can't explain)
How I feel (how I feel)
Am I in love? (aahaah)
I must be in love

Any time of the day I can see
(I can see her face)
Her face, when I close my eyes
Ooooooh!
Am I dead (oooh, la la la)
Or alive? (oooh, la la la)
Can my poor heart (oooh, la la la)
Survive? (oooh, la la la)
Am I in love? (aahaah)
I must be in love

I feel good (I feel good)
I feel bad (I feel bad)
I feel happy (I feel happy)
I feel sad (I feel sad)
Am I in love? (aahaah)
I must be in love
I must be in love
I must be in love
I must be in love

(Fade to a reporter, walking down the street as reporters do. The camera follows him.)

REPORTER [Eric]: The Rutles there, in their movie "A Hard Day's Rut," directed by Dick Leicester, which is very near Rutland.


ANGEL [David Battley]: Not a very good likeness.

(He is staring at Michaelangelo's "Creation of Adam," from the Sistine Chapel ceiling. We see Neil, dressed as the George Reeves Superman, fly through the air in a cheap way. He crashes through the painting, sort of, and with a flash of light we hear a drum beat with a country flavor and he is in heaven. Those with wings include Gwen Taylor and Terence Baylor. He speaks, instead of singing.)

SUPERNEIL: Where is the turning point?
The age of desperation?
When all of our opinions become more convincing ... than before
When we know what is right, because we cannot see alternatives.
And we know we shall lose all if we doubt ourselves.

What is objectivity? Keeping true perspective?
We know things change when (angle change) seen from (angle change) different angles.
Still, we play the game, knowing it takes time;
today's truth is qualified by tomorrow's contradictions.

WINGED CHORUS (singing): Ooooooo, wahhhhhhhh,
Maybe he's wrong,
but he knows what he means!

SUPERNEIL: Still, we believe in ourselves, as we did yesterday.
All men it seems have egos huge enough in which to hide themselves.
So we leave room for forgiveness.

(Music stops. Neil stops for a moment and glances at his watch. The music sets back in again. He gives an odd look.)

CHORUS (singing): Oooooooo, wahhhhhh
All right, he's wrong,
but he means what he says!

SUPERNEIL: This vision of perfection. (he is shrinking)
The illusion of a purpose. (shrinks further)
Is just a turning point. (voice gets farther-away)
The age of ... (shouts) desperation !!

(He disappears. They play a few final chords.)



IDLE Sir Keith Joseph - does he exist or not?  To discuss the problem we have with us in the studio four economists, two politicians, my brother-in-law, my auntie, a small packet of Fairy Snow, a little wheelbarrow, a large rock cod, a piece of... (BATTLEY ENTERS) Yes?

BATTLEY Bad news I'm afraid.

IDLE My wife...  She's...still with me?

BATTLEY No, she's still with me.

IDLE Oh I am sorry.

BATTLEY Don't worry - it's worse than that.  You're getting a bad notice.

IDLE What?

BATTLEY Wally Bird, the television critic's given you a bad notice.

IDLE What's he say?

BATTLEY Well he says he's still watching the programme but it's bad.

IDLE Not 'If this is comedy I'm a dutchman's uncle'?

BATTLEY No, it's worse than that.

IDLE What, you don't mean 'Dire stuff indeed'?

BATTLEY 'Fraid so.

IDLE (TO CAMERA) Well that's typical isn't it.  You flog your guts out for a quarter of the money you can get on ITV and some spotty little cretin who gets paid for watching television makes smartarsed remarks in his cheapskate egocentric little column.  They come creeping up to you at parties and receptions looking for free funny lines they can stick in their nasty newspapers and trying to get your autograph for their pallid little offspring, and next thing you know they're staying up all night trying to squeeze witticisms like blackheads out of their second-rate minds at your expense.  And those female bitch writers with brains in their bums, blinking at the box, night after night.  They're worse than the Wally Birds of this world - at least he doesn't pretend to be intelligent, WHICH IS JUST AS WELL!  As he's stupid!  Downright stupid!  All critics are stupid!  It's a stupid bloody job!  And I hate their stupid mean stupid petty stupid cheapskate stupid hack journalistic minds!!  (HENRY WOOLF ENTERS)

WOOLF Well done!

IDLE What?

WOOLF Wally Bird has just said you were magnificent.

IDLE Whaaat?

WOOLF Yes, he's given you a rave.

IDLE Really?

WOOLF Yes, he said the tirade against the critics in particular was a masterly use of satirical invective.

IDLE He said that?

WOOLF Yes.

IDLE Well, y...you know, he's not stupid all the time.  You know, obviously, if he's picking up things like this, he's pretty perceptive.

WOOLF Yes.

IDLE Y'know, not...not all critics are rubbish by any means.  (NEIL INNES ENTERS)

INNES Letitia Hunt's just given you a great notice!

IDLE Really?

INNES Yes.

IDLE Well, I've always thought she was pretty good actually, I always read her anyway.  (TO CAMERA AGAIN) Look, perhaps I ought to say a word of apology, maybe I...I did rather over-react there, y'know,  to criticism, obviously there are good and bad critics, well they're not necessarily bad critics, y'know - most critics have to be pretty competent, indeed very intelligent, y'know, so please don't take amiss what I said just then and if you are thinking of doing a write-up, thank you very much for watching the programme and we should be most interested to know what you've got to say about it...

BATTLEY Ohhh, shut up, you creep!








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