Monty Python's Flying Circus (1969–1974): Season 1, Episode 1 - Whither Canada? - full transcript
'It's Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart', Famous Deaths, Italian Lesson, Whizzo Butter, 'It's the Arts', Arthur "Two-Sheds" Jackson, Cycling Race, and The Funniest Joke in the World.
It's...
Monty Python's Flying Circus.
Good evening.
Hello again,
and welcome to the show.
Tonight we continue
to look at some famous deaths.
Tonight we start
with the wonderful death...
...of Genghis Khan,
conqueror of India.
Take it away, Genghis.
Nine-point-one, 9.3, 9.7.
That's 28.1 for Genghis Khan.
Bad luck, Genghis.
Nice to have you on the show.
And now, here are the scores.
Well,
there you can see the scores, now.
St. Stephen in the lead there,
with his stoning.
Then comes King Richard Ill
at Bosworth Field.
A grand death, that.
Then the very lovely Jean d'Arc.
Then Marat in his bath.
Best of friends with Charlotte
in the showers afterwards.
Then A. Lincoln of the U.S. of A.
A grand little chap, that.
And at number six, Genghis Khan.
And the back marker,
King Edward VII.
Back to you, Wolfgang.
Thank you, Eddie.
And now,
time for this week's request death.
For Mr. and Mrs. Violet Stebbings
of 23 Wolverston Road, Hull...
...the death of Mr. Bruce Foster
of Guildford.
Oh, blimey, how time flies.
Sadly, we are reaching the end
of yet another program...
...and so it is finale time.
We are proud
to be bringing to you...
...one of the evergreen
bucket-kickers.
Yes, the wonderful death...
...of the famous English
Admiral Nelson.
Kiss me, Hardy!
Good evening, everyone...
...and welcome to the second
of our Italian language classes...
...in which we'll be helping you
brush up your Italian.
Now, last week
we started at the beginning...
...and we learned the Italian
for "a spoon."
Now, I wonder how many of you
can remember what it was.
Not all at once.
Sit down, Mario. Giuseppe.
Well done, Giuseppe.
Or, as the Italians would say:
Well, now, this week...
...we're going to learn
useful phrases...
...to help us open a conversation
with an Italian.
Now, first of all,
try telling him where you come from.
For example, I would say:
lam an Englishman
from Gerrards Cross.
Shall we all try that together?
Not too bad. Now let's try it
with somebody else.
- Mr...?
- Mariolini.
Mr. Mariolini.
And where are you from?
Napoli, signor.
You're Italian?
Well, in that case, you would say:
Yes?
I'm sorry, I don't understand.
Signor, my friend, he say, why--?
Oh, Helmut,
you want the German classes.
My friend, he say--
He say, why must I say,
"I am Italian from Napoli"...
...when he lives in Milan?
Well, tell your friend...
...if he lives in Milan, he must say:
He say,
"Milan is better than Napoli."
He shouldn't say that.
We haven't done comparatives.
Yes, mothers,
new, improved Whizzo butter...
...containing 10 percent more or less
is indistinguishable from a dead crab.
Remember, buy Whizzo butter
and go to heaven.
I can't tell the difference between
Whizzo butter and this dead crab.
Yes, you know, we find that
nine out of 10 British housewives...
...can't tell the difference between
Whizzo butter and a dead crab.
-It's true, we can't.
- Yeah, we can't.
- No.
- Here.
You're on television, aren't you?
Yes, yes.
- Oh, yes.
- Yes.
He does that thing
with those silly women...
...who can't tell the difference between
Whizzo butter and a dead crab.
You try that around here, young man,
and we'll slit your face.
Yeah.
Pull a razor from there to there.
Hello, good evening, and welcome
to another edition of It's the Arts.
And we kick off tonight
with the cinema.
Good evening. One of the most prolific
of film producers of this age...
...or indeed any age...
...is Sir Edward Ross...
...back for the first time
for five years...
...to open a season of his works
at the National Film Theatre.
We are very fortunate to have him
here, in the studio, this evening.
- Good evening.
- Edward--
- You don't mind if I call you Edward?
- No, not at all.
It does worry people. I don't know why.
Perhaps they're sensitive.
So I do take the precaution of asking
on these occasions.
No, no, no. That's fine.
So Edward's all right.
Splendid. Splendid.
I'm sorry to have brought it up, only...
No, no. Edward it is.
Well, thank you very much indeed
for being so helpful.
Only it's more
than my job's worth to...
- Yes.
- Makes it rather difficult...
...to establish a rapport,
put the other person at their ease.
- Quite.
- Silly little point but it seems to matter.
Still, less said, the better.
Ted, when you first started in--
- You don't mind if I call you Ted?
- No, no, no.
- No, no. Everyone calls me Ted.
- Good, good.
-It's shorter, isn't it?
- Yes.
- Yes, and much less formal.
- Yes, Ted, Edward, anything.
Splendid, splendid.
Incidentally, do call me Tom.
I don't want you playing around
with any of this "Thomas" nonsense.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes.
- Eddie-baby, when you first started--
- I'm sorry.
I'm sorry,
I don't like being called "Eddie-baby."
- I'm sorry?
- I don't like being called "Eddie-baby."
- Did I call you "Eddie-baby"?
- Yes, you did.
Now, get on with it.
- Don't think I called you "Eddie-baby."
- You did.
- Did I call him "Eddie-baby?"
- Yes!
- Yes.
- No.
I didn't really call you "Eddie-baby,"
did I, sweetie?
Don't call me sweetie.
- Can I call you sugar plum?
- No.
- Pussycat?
- No.
- Angel drawers?
- No, you may not.
- Now get on with it.
- Frank?
- What?
- Can I call you Frank?
- Why Frank?
-It's a nice name.
Robin Day's got a hedgehog
called Frank.
- Now, Frank--
- What's going on?
Frannie, Frannie Knickers.
- No. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm off.
- Frannie Knickers.
Tell us about your latest film,
Sir Edward.
- What?
- Tell us about your latest film...
...if you'll be so kind, Sir Edward.
None of this "pussycat" nonsense?
Promise. Please, Sir Edward.
- My latest film?
- Yes, Sir Edward.
Well, the idea, funnily enough...
...came from an idea I had when
I first joined the industry in 1919.
Of course, in those days
I was only a tea boy.
Oh, shut up.
Sir Edward Ross.
Later in the program,
we will bring you...
...a unique event
in the world of modern art.
Pablo Picasso will be doing
a special painting for us...
...on this program, live,
on a bicycle.
This is the first time that Picasso
has painted while cycling.
But right now, it's time to look at a man
whose meteoric rise to fame--
Last week, the Royal Festival Hall...
...saw the first performance
of a new symphony...
...by one of the world's leading
modern composers...
...Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson.
- Mr. Jackson--
- Good evening.
May I just sidetrack you
for one moment, Mr. Jackson?
This-- What shall I call it?
--Nickname of yours.
- Oh, yes.
-"Two Sheds."
- Yes.
- How did you come by it?
Well, I don't use it myself.
It's just a few of my friends
call me "Two Sheds."
I see. And do you,
in fact, have two sheds?
No. No, I have only one shed.
I've had one for some time.
But a few years ago, I said I was
thinking of getting another one...
...and since then, some people
have called me "Two Sheds."
In spite of the fact
that you have only one?
- Yes.
- I see.
And are you thinking of
purchasing a second shed?
- No.
- To bring you in line with your epithet?
- No.
- I see, I see.
Well, let's return to your symphony.
Now then, did you write this symphony
in the shed?
No.
Have you written any recent works
in this shed of yours?
No. It's just a perfectly ordinary
garden shed.
I see.
And you're thinking of
buying this second shed to write in.
No, no. Look. This shed business,
it doesn't really matter at all.
The sheds aren't important.
It's just a few friends
call me "Two Sheds"...
...and that's all there is to it.
I wish you'd ask me about my music.
I'm a composer.
People always ask about the sheds.
They've got it out of proportion.
I'm fed up with the shed.
I wish I'd never got it.
You're probably thinking of
selling one.
I will sell one.
Then you'd be
Arthur "No Sheds" Jackson.
Look, forget about the sheds.
They don't matter.
I think, with respect,
we ought to talk about your symphony.
- What?
- Apparently, your symphony...
...was written for organ and tympani.
- What's that?
- What's what?
It's a shed. Get it off.
All right. Right.
Now then, Mr. Jackson,
your symphony.
I understand that you used to be
interested in trainspotting.
What?
I understand that about 30 years ago,
you were interested in trainspotting.
What's that got to do with
my bloody music?
- Are you having any trouble from him?
- Yes, a little.
We interviewers are more than a match
for the likes of you, Two Sheds.
Yes, make yourself scarce,
Two Sheds.
This studio isn't big enough
for the three of us.
Get your own arts program,
you fairy.
Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson.
- Never mind, Timmy.
- Oh, Michael, you're such a comfort.
Arthur "Two Sheds"...
Jackson.
Now, more news
of the momentous artistic event...
...when Picasso is doing a specially
commissioned painting for us...
...whilst riding a bicycle.
Pablo Picasso,
the founder of modern art--
Without doubt,
the greatest abstract painter ever.
--For the first time
painting in motion.
But first, let's have a look
at the route he'll be taking.
Well, Picasso will be starting, David,
at Chichester here.
He'll then cycle on the A29
to Fontwell.
He'll then take the A272...
...which will bring him onto the A3,
just north of Hindhead here.
From then on,
Pablo has a straight run on the A3...
...until he meets the South Circular
at Battersea here.
This is a truly
remarkable occasion...
...as it is the first time
that a modern artist of such stature...
...has taken the A272.
And it'll be very interesting
to see how he copes...
...with the heavy traffic
round Wisborough Green. Vicky.
Well, Picasso will be riding
his Viking Super Roadster...
...with drop handlebars
and dual-thread wheel rims.
And with his Wiley-Prat
20-1 synchro-mesh...
...he should experience difficulties
on the road surfaces...
...they just don't get abroad. Mitzie.
Now, for the latest report
on Picasso's progress...
...over to Reg Moss
on the Guildford bypass.
There's no sign of Picasso
at the moment...
...but he should be through here
any moment.
However, I do have with me
Mr. Ron Geppo...
...British cycling sprint champion and
winner of the Derby-Doncaster rally.
I think Pablo should be all right,
provided he doesn't attempt anything...
...on the monumental scale
of his earlier paintings...
...like Guernica
or Les Demoiselles d'Avignon...
...or his War and Peace mural for the
Temple of Peace chapel at Vallauris.
Because with this wind...
...I doubt even Doug Timpson
of Manchester Harriers...
...could paint anything
on that kind of scale.
Well, thank you, Ron.
Well, there still seems to be
no sign of Picasso...
...so I'll hand you back to the studio.
I've just heard Picasso's approaching
the Tolworth roundabout on the A3...
...so come in,
Sam Trench at Tolworth.
Something certainly is happening here
at Tolworth roundabout.
I can now see Picasso.
He's cycling towards the roundabout,
about 75, 50 yards away.
And I can now see his painting.
It's an abstract.
I can see some blue, some purple.
Some little, black oval shapes.
- I think I can see--
- That's not Picasso, that's Kandinsky.
Good Lord, you're right.
It's Kandinsky. Wassily Kandinsky.
And who's this here with him?
It's Braque.
Georges Braque, the cubist...
...painting a bird flying over a cornfield
and going down the hill to Kingston.
Piet Mondrian just behind.
Piet Mondrian, the neoplasticist.
Then a gap, then the main bunch.
Here they come.
Chagall, Max Ernst, Miro, Dufy,
Ben Nicholson, Jackson Pollock...
...and Bernard Buffet
making a break on the outside here.
Brancusi's going with him.
So is Gericault...
...Ferdinand Leger, Delaunay,
de Kooning.
Kokoschka's dropping back here
by a little bit...
...and so is Paul Klee
dropping back a bit.
And right at the back of this group,
our very own Kurt Schwitters.
- But as yet...
- He's German.
Mabsolutely no sign
of Pablo Picasso.
And so, from Tolworth roundabout,
back to the studio.
I think I can help you there.
We're getting reports in from the AA
that Picasso--
Picasso has fallen off.
He's fallen off his bicycle...
...on the B2127,
just outside Ewhurst...
...trying to get a shortcut to Dorking
via Gomslake and Peashall.
Well, Picasso is reported to be unhurt,
but the pig has a slight headache.
And on that note,
we must say good night to you.
Picasso has failed in his first bid
for international cycling fame.
So from all of us here at
the It's the Arts studio, it's good night.
Good night.
Hold it.
Sit up.
Sit up.
Sit up.
Sit up.
There's somebody out there.
Help, help me.
I'm trapped in this body.
Oh, please, help me out.
Help me. Oh, please, help me out.
I'm free. I'm free. I'm free.
Just checking. Just checking.
Oh, no, you don't.
There's somebody out there.
Thompson's bought it, sir.
Porker, eh? The swine.
This man is Ernest Scribbler,
writer of jokes.
In a few moments, he will have written
the funniestjoke in the world.
And as a consequence,
he will die laughing.
It was obvious
that this joke was lethal.
No one could read it and live.
This morning, shortly after 11:00...
...comedy struck this little house
in Dibley Road.
Sudden, violent comedy.
Police have sealed off the area...
...and Scotland Yard's crack inspector
is with me now.
I shall enter the house
and attempt to remove the joke.
I shall be aided
by the sound of sombre music...
...played on gramophone records...
...and also by the chanting of laments
by the men of Q Division.
The atmosphere thus created
should protect me...
...in the eventuality
of me reading the joke.
Well, there goes a brave man.
Whether he comes out alive or not,
this will surely be remembered...
...as one of the most courageous
and gallant acts in police history.
It was not long before
the army became interested...
min the military potential
of the killer joke.
Under security,
the joke was hurried...
...to a meeting of Allied' commanders
at the Ministry of War.
Top brass were impressed.
Tests on Salisbury Plain confirmed
the joke's devastating effectiveness...
...at a range of up to 50 yards.
- Fantastic.
- Fantastic.
All through the winter of '43...
...we had translators working
in joke-proof conditions...
...to try and produce
a German version of the joke.
They worked on one word each,
for greater safety.
One of them saw two words of the joke
and spent several weeks in hospital.
But apart from that,
things went pretty quickly.
And we soon had the joke,
by January...
...in a form which our troops
couldn't understand...
...but which the Germans could.
So on July 8th, 1944...
...the joke was first told to the enemy
in the Ardennes.
Squad, get the joke.
Squad, tell the joke.
It was a fantastic success.
Over 60,000 times as powerful
as Britain's great pre-war joke...
...and one which Hitler
just couldn't match.
In action, it was deadly.
German casualties were appalling.
What is the big joke?
I can only give you name, rank...
...and "Why did the chicken
cross the road?"
That's not funny!
I want to know the joke.
All right.
How do you make a Nazi cross?
I don't know.
How do you make a Nazi cross?
Tread on his corns.
That's not funny!
Now, if you don't tell me the joke...
...I shall hit you properly.
I can stand physical pain, you know.
You're no fun.
All right, Otto.
Oh, no. No, anything but that.
Please, no.
All right. I'll tell you.
Quick, Otto, the typewriter.
That's not funny!
But at Peenemfinde,
in autumn of '44...
...the Germans were working
on a joke of their own.
We let you know.
But by December,
their joke was ready.
And Hitler gave the order
for the German V-Joke...
...to be broadcast in English.
There were zwei peanuts
walking down the stralSe...
...and one was a salted peanut.
In 1945, peace broke out.
It was the end of the joke.
Joke warfare was banned at a special
session of the Geneva Convention...
...and in 1950,
the last remaining copy of the joke...
...was laid to rest here,
in the Berkshire countryside...
...never to be told again.
And here is the final score:
Pigs, 9, British bipeds, 4.
The pigs go on to meet Vikki Carr
in the final.
Monty Python's Flying Circus.
Good evening.
Hello again,
and welcome to the show.
Tonight we continue
to look at some famous deaths.
Tonight we start
with the wonderful death...
...of Genghis Khan,
conqueror of India.
Take it away, Genghis.
Nine-point-one, 9.3, 9.7.
That's 28.1 for Genghis Khan.
Bad luck, Genghis.
Nice to have you on the show.
And now, here are the scores.
Well,
there you can see the scores, now.
St. Stephen in the lead there,
with his stoning.
Then comes King Richard Ill
at Bosworth Field.
A grand death, that.
Then the very lovely Jean d'Arc.
Then Marat in his bath.
Best of friends with Charlotte
in the showers afterwards.
Then A. Lincoln of the U.S. of A.
A grand little chap, that.
And at number six, Genghis Khan.
And the back marker,
King Edward VII.
Back to you, Wolfgang.
Thank you, Eddie.
And now,
time for this week's request death.
For Mr. and Mrs. Violet Stebbings
of 23 Wolverston Road, Hull...
...the death of Mr. Bruce Foster
of Guildford.
Oh, blimey, how time flies.
Sadly, we are reaching the end
of yet another program...
...and so it is finale time.
We are proud
to be bringing to you...
...one of the evergreen
bucket-kickers.
Yes, the wonderful death...
...of the famous English
Admiral Nelson.
Kiss me, Hardy!
Good evening, everyone...
...and welcome to the second
of our Italian language classes...
...in which we'll be helping you
brush up your Italian.
Now, last week
we started at the beginning...
...and we learned the Italian
for "a spoon."
Now, I wonder how many of you
can remember what it was.
Not all at once.
Sit down, Mario. Giuseppe.
Well done, Giuseppe.
Or, as the Italians would say:
Well, now, this week...
...we're going to learn
useful phrases...
...to help us open a conversation
with an Italian.
Now, first of all,
try telling him where you come from.
For example, I would say:
lam an Englishman
from Gerrards Cross.
Shall we all try that together?
Not too bad. Now let's try it
with somebody else.
- Mr...?
- Mariolini.
Mr. Mariolini.
And where are you from?
Napoli, signor.
You're Italian?
Well, in that case, you would say:
Yes?
I'm sorry, I don't understand.
Signor, my friend, he say, why--?
Oh, Helmut,
you want the German classes.
My friend, he say--
He say, why must I say,
"I am Italian from Napoli"...
...when he lives in Milan?
Well, tell your friend...
...if he lives in Milan, he must say:
He say,
"Milan is better than Napoli."
He shouldn't say that.
We haven't done comparatives.
Yes, mothers,
new, improved Whizzo butter...
...containing 10 percent more or less
is indistinguishable from a dead crab.
Remember, buy Whizzo butter
and go to heaven.
I can't tell the difference between
Whizzo butter and this dead crab.
Yes, you know, we find that
nine out of 10 British housewives...
...can't tell the difference between
Whizzo butter and a dead crab.
-It's true, we can't.
- Yeah, we can't.
- No.
- Here.
You're on television, aren't you?
Yes, yes.
- Oh, yes.
- Yes.
He does that thing
with those silly women...
...who can't tell the difference between
Whizzo butter and a dead crab.
You try that around here, young man,
and we'll slit your face.
Yeah.
Pull a razor from there to there.
Hello, good evening, and welcome
to another edition of It's the Arts.
And we kick off tonight
with the cinema.
Good evening. One of the most prolific
of film producers of this age...
...or indeed any age...
...is Sir Edward Ross...
...back for the first time
for five years...
...to open a season of his works
at the National Film Theatre.
We are very fortunate to have him
here, in the studio, this evening.
- Good evening.
- Edward--
- You don't mind if I call you Edward?
- No, not at all.
It does worry people. I don't know why.
Perhaps they're sensitive.
So I do take the precaution of asking
on these occasions.
No, no, no. That's fine.
So Edward's all right.
Splendid. Splendid.
I'm sorry to have brought it up, only...
No, no. Edward it is.
Well, thank you very much indeed
for being so helpful.
Only it's more
than my job's worth to...
- Yes.
- Makes it rather difficult...
...to establish a rapport,
put the other person at their ease.
- Quite.
- Silly little point but it seems to matter.
Still, less said, the better.
Ted, when you first started in--
- You don't mind if I call you Ted?
- No, no, no.
- No, no. Everyone calls me Ted.
- Good, good.
-It's shorter, isn't it?
- Yes.
- Yes, and much less formal.
- Yes, Ted, Edward, anything.
Splendid, splendid.
Incidentally, do call me Tom.
I don't want you playing around
with any of this "Thomas" nonsense.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes.
- Eddie-baby, when you first started--
- I'm sorry.
I'm sorry,
I don't like being called "Eddie-baby."
- I'm sorry?
- I don't like being called "Eddie-baby."
- Did I call you "Eddie-baby"?
- Yes, you did.
Now, get on with it.
- Don't think I called you "Eddie-baby."
- You did.
- Did I call him "Eddie-baby?"
- Yes!
- Yes.
- No.
I didn't really call you "Eddie-baby,"
did I, sweetie?
Don't call me sweetie.
- Can I call you sugar plum?
- No.
- Pussycat?
- No.
- Angel drawers?
- No, you may not.
- Now get on with it.
- Frank?
- What?
- Can I call you Frank?
- Why Frank?
-It's a nice name.
Robin Day's got a hedgehog
called Frank.
- Now, Frank--
- What's going on?
Frannie, Frannie Knickers.
- No. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm off.
- Frannie Knickers.
Tell us about your latest film,
Sir Edward.
- What?
- Tell us about your latest film...
...if you'll be so kind, Sir Edward.
None of this "pussycat" nonsense?
Promise. Please, Sir Edward.
- My latest film?
- Yes, Sir Edward.
Well, the idea, funnily enough...
...came from an idea I had when
I first joined the industry in 1919.
Of course, in those days
I was only a tea boy.
Oh, shut up.
Sir Edward Ross.
Later in the program,
we will bring you...
...a unique event
in the world of modern art.
Pablo Picasso will be doing
a special painting for us...
...on this program, live,
on a bicycle.
This is the first time that Picasso
has painted while cycling.
But right now, it's time to look at a man
whose meteoric rise to fame--
Last week, the Royal Festival Hall...
...saw the first performance
of a new symphony...
...by one of the world's leading
modern composers...
...Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson.
- Mr. Jackson--
- Good evening.
May I just sidetrack you
for one moment, Mr. Jackson?
This-- What shall I call it?
--Nickname of yours.
- Oh, yes.
-"Two Sheds."
- Yes.
- How did you come by it?
Well, I don't use it myself.
It's just a few of my friends
call me "Two Sheds."
I see. And do you,
in fact, have two sheds?
No. No, I have only one shed.
I've had one for some time.
But a few years ago, I said I was
thinking of getting another one...
...and since then, some people
have called me "Two Sheds."
In spite of the fact
that you have only one?
- Yes.
- I see.
And are you thinking of
purchasing a second shed?
- No.
- To bring you in line with your epithet?
- No.
- I see, I see.
Well, let's return to your symphony.
Now then, did you write this symphony
in the shed?
No.
Have you written any recent works
in this shed of yours?
No. It's just a perfectly ordinary
garden shed.
I see.
And you're thinking of
buying this second shed to write in.
No, no. Look. This shed business,
it doesn't really matter at all.
The sheds aren't important.
It's just a few friends
call me "Two Sheds"...
...and that's all there is to it.
I wish you'd ask me about my music.
I'm a composer.
People always ask about the sheds.
They've got it out of proportion.
I'm fed up with the shed.
I wish I'd never got it.
You're probably thinking of
selling one.
I will sell one.
Then you'd be
Arthur "No Sheds" Jackson.
Look, forget about the sheds.
They don't matter.
I think, with respect,
we ought to talk about your symphony.
- What?
- Apparently, your symphony...
...was written for organ and tympani.
- What's that?
- What's what?
It's a shed. Get it off.
All right. Right.
Now then, Mr. Jackson,
your symphony.
I understand that you used to be
interested in trainspotting.
What?
I understand that about 30 years ago,
you were interested in trainspotting.
What's that got to do with
my bloody music?
- Are you having any trouble from him?
- Yes, a little.
We interviewers are more than a match
for the likes of you, Two Sheds.
Yes, make yourself scarce,
Two Sheds.
This studio isn't big enough
for the three of us.
Get your own arts program,
you fairy.
Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson.
- Never mind, Timmy.
- Oh, Michael, you're such a comfort.
Arthur "Two Sheds"...
Jackson.
Now, more news
of the momentous artistic event...
...when Picasso is doing a specially
commissioned painting for us...
...whilst riding a bicycle.
Pablo Picasso,
the founder of modern art--
Without doubt,
the greatest abstract painter ever.
--For the first time
painting in motion.
But first, let's have a look
at the route he'll be taking.
Well, Picasso will be starting, David,
at Chichester here.
He'll then cycle on the A29
to Fontwell.
He'll then take the A272...
...which will bring him onto the A3,
just north of Hindhead here.
From then on,
Pablo has a straight run on the A3...
...until he meets the South Circular
at Battersea here.
This is a truly
remarkable occasion...
...as it is the first time
that a modern artist of such stature...
...has taken the A272.
And it'll be very interesting
to see how he copes...
...with the heavy traffic
round Wisborough Green. Vicky.
Well, Picasso will be riding
his Viking Super Roadster...
...with drop handlebars
and dual-thread wheel rims.
And with his Wiley-Prat
20-1 synchro-mesh...
...he should experience difficulties
on the road surfaces...
...they just don't get abroad. Mitzie.
Now, for the latest report
on Picasso's progress...
...over to Reg Moss
on the Guildford bypass.
There's no sign of Picasso
at the moment...
...but he should be through here
any moment.
However, I do have with me
Mr. Ron Geppo...
...British cycling sprint champion and
winner of the Derby-Doncaster rally.
I think Pablo should be all right,
provided he doesn't attempt anything...
...on the monumental scale
of his earlier paintings...
...like Guernica
or Les Demoiselles d'Avignon...
...or his War and Peace mural for the
Temple of Peace chapel at Vallauris.
Because with this wind...
...I doubt even Doug Timpson
of Manchester Harriers...
...could paint anything
on that kind of scale.
Well, thank you, Ron.
Well, there still seems to be
no sign of Picasso...
...so I'll hand you back to the studio.
I've just heard Picasso's approaching
the Tolworth roundabout on the A3...
...so come in,
Sam Trench at Tolworth.
Something certainly is happening here
at Tolworth roundabout.
I can now see Picasso.
He's cycling towards the roundabout,
about 75, 50 yards away.
And I can now see his painting.
It's an abstract.
I can see some blue, some purple.
Some little, black oval shapes.
- I think I can see--
- That's not Picasso, that's Kandinsky.
Good Lord, you're right.
It's Kandinsky. Wassily Kandinsky.
And who's this here with him?
It's Braque.
Georges Braque, the cubist...
...painting a bird flying over a cornfield
and going down the hill to Kingston.
Piet Mondrian just behind.
Piet Mondrian, the neoplasticist.
Then a gap, then the main bunch.
Here they come.
Chagall, Max Ernst, Miro, Dufy,
Ben Nicholson, Jackson Pollock...
...and Bernard Buffet
making a break on the outside here.
Brancusi's going with him.
So is Gericault...
...Ferdinand Leger, Delaunay,
de Kooning.
Kokoschka's dropping back here
by a little bit...
...and so is Paul Klee
dropping back a bit.
And right at the back of this group,
our very own Kurt Schwitters.
- But as yet...
- He's German.
Mabsolutely no sign
of Pablo Picasso.
And so, from Tolworth roundabout,
back to the studio.
I think I can help you there.
We're getting reports in from the AA
that Picasso--
Picasso has fallen off.
He's fallen off his bicycle...
...on the B2127,
just outside Ewhurst...
...trying to get a shortcut to Dorking
via Gomslake and Peashall.
Well, Picasso is reported to be unhurt,
but the pig has a slight headache.
And on that note,
we must say good night to you.
Picasso has failed in his first bid
for international cycling fame.
So from all of us here at
the It's the Arts studio, it's good night.
Good night.
Hold it.
Sit up.
Sit up.
Sit up.
Sit up.
There's somebody out there.
Help, help me.
I'm trapped in this body.
Oh, please, help me out.
Help me. Oh, please, help me out.
I'm free. I'm free. I'm free.
Just checking. Just checking.
Oh, no, you don't.
There's somebody out there.
Thompson's bought it, sir.
Porker, eh? The swine.
This man is Ernest Scribbler,
writer of jokes.
In a few moments, he will have written
the funniestjoke in the world.
And as a consequence,
he will die laughing.
It was obvious
that this joke was lethal.
No one could read it and live.
This morning, shortly after 11:00...
...comedy struck this little house
in Dibley Road.
Sudden, violent comedy.
Police have sealed off the area...
...and Scotland Yard's crack inspector
is with me now.
I shall enter the house
and attempt to remove the joke.
I shall be aided
by the sound of sombre music...
...played on gramophone records...
...and also by the chanting of laments
by the men of Q Division.
The atmosphere thus created
should protect me...
...in the eventuality
of me reading the joke.
Well, there goes a brave man.
Whether he comes out alive or not,
this will surely be remembered...
...as one of the most courageous
and gallant acts in police history.
It was not long before
the army became interested...
min the military potential
of the killer joke.
Under security,
the joke was hurried...
...to a meeting of Allied' commanders
at the Ministry of War.
Top brass were impressed.
Tests on Salisbury Plain confirmed
the joke's devastating effectiveness...
...at a range of up to 50 yards.
- Fantastic.
- Fantastic.
All through the winter of '43...
...we had translators working
in joke-proof conditions...
...to try and produce
a German version of the joke.
They worked on one word each,
for greater safety.
One of them saw two words of the joke
and spent several weeks in hospital.
But apart from that,
things went pretty quickly.
And we soon had the joke,
by January...
...in a form which our troops
couldn't understand...
...but which the Germans could.
So on July 8th, 1944...
...the joke was first told to the enemy
in the Ardennes.
Squad, get the joke.
Squad, tell the joke.
It was a fantastic success.
Over 60,000 times as powerful
as Britain's great pre-war joke...
...and one which Hitler
just couldn't match.
In action, it was deadly.
German casualties were appalling.
What is the big joke?
I can only give you name, rank...
...and "Why did the chicken
cross the road?"
That's not funny!
I want to know the joke.
All right.
How do you make a Nazi cross?
I don't know.
How do you make a Nazi cross?
Tread on his corns.
That's not funny!
Now, if you don't tell me the joke...
...I shall hit you properly.
I can stand physical pain, you know.
You're no fun.
All right, Otto.
Oh, no. No, anything but that.
Please, no.
All right. I'll tell you.
Quick, Otto, the typewriter.
That's not funny!
But at Peenemfinde,
in autumn of '44...
...the Germans were working
on a joke of their own.
We let you know.
But by December,
their joke was ready.
And Hitler gave the order
for the German V-Joke...
...to be broadcast in English.
There were zwei peanuts
walking down the stralSe...
...and one was a salted peanut.
In 1945, peace broke out.
It was the end of the joke.
Joke warfare was banned at a special
session of the Geneva Convention...
...and in 1950,
the last remaining copy of the joke...
...was laid to rest here,
in the Berkshire countryside...
...never to be told again.
And here is the final score:
Pigs, 9, British bipeds, 4.
The pigs go on to meet Vikki Carr
in the final.