The Monkees (1966–1968): Season 2, Episode 23 - Monkees Mind Their Manor - full transcript
The Monkees travel to England when Davy inherits the estate of Young Lord Malcolm Kibee on the condition that he lives there for the next five years. Davy has no intention of staying, but does not want the Lord's nephew, Lance Kibee, to sell it to a land developer either. So, the Monkees put on a medieval fair to raise enough money for the local villagers to buy the manor.
Okay. Alright, guys, listen,
this is what we've been working on.
Um, see if you can pick this up,
Micky. Um, one, two, three, four.
♪ Da-da ♪
♪ Da-da, da-da ♪
♪ Da-da, da-da, da-da ♪
♪ Da-da, da-da, da-da,
da-da, da, da-da ♪
- You like it? You like it?
- You like it? You don't-
- That's terrible.
- Horrible. Woo!
That's the worst thing
I ever heard.
Thanks very much, fellas.
My second song.
Someone's at the door.
Does Davy Jones live here?
Davy, me lad!
I've been asking for you up and down
the beach. What's a long-haired weirdo?
It's a local fish; you catch
it with a sharp stick.
Oh ho ho! Hm.
Hey, fellas, you remember
when I was telling you about
Mr. Friar, the innkeeper
from Kibee? Well-
No, you never told us about
Mr. Friar from Kibee.
The innkeeper?
No, I don't remember anything
about an innkeeper.
Well, this is him.
Davy, you must come back to
England immediately.
Oh, I can't do that.
Don't say that, Davy.
Don't say that. Don't-
- Ah!
- Hey!
- On the couch.
- What's the matter with this man?
Sit right there.
Are you okay?
Thank you, miss.
Davy, Young Lord
Kibee has passed on.
Young Lord Kibee? Why, he was
ninety-seven years old when I was there!
That's true. In the prime of his life.
So the villagers sent me to bring you back.
Why do the villagers need me?
Well, we believe that you must
be there for the reading of the will.
We believe Lord Kibee has
left his estate to you.
Well, I can't go back there.
I'm sorry.
Don't say that, Davy.
Hey!
But you've got to do it, Davy.
If you don't, we believe
Lord Kibee's nephew,
Lance Kibee, the Sot, will inherit
the estate and sell it to some developer.
Well, I can dig that, but I still
can't go back there and live.
Oh.
You better cool it, man; this
guy's denting our couch.
Our houses are on that estate,
and if he sells it
to a housing developer,
we'll all be evicted.
Well...
Alright! I'll go.
I'll go.
Phew! That was a close one.
I can't understand. Why did he
leave the estate to me?
I was just a stable boy.
Oh, he loved you, Davy, and he
knew how you loved the estate.
Why, he'd speak of you for hours.
He couldn't have said much about me.
We-we never really talked.
That's true, but what he did say,
he'd say over and over and over and over.
He was as nutty as a fruitcake.
Here we come
Walkin' down the street
We get the funniest looks from
Ev'ry one we meet
Hey, hey, we're the Monkees
And people say we monkey around
But we're too busy singing
To put anybody down
We're just tryin' to be friendly
Come and watch us sing and play
We're the young generation
And we've got something to say
Hey, hey, we're the Monkees
You never know where we'll be found
So you better get ready,
We may be comin' to your town
Gee, Davy, I wish we could all
go to England with you, man.
Boy, that'd be a great idea if we
could all make the trip together.
Are you kidding me, man? We don't have
the money to go down to the corner for gum.
You know something?
Maybe you can't go as passengers...
passengers...
passengers... passengers.
Are you bringing in any fruits,
vegetables, or exotic animals?
Oh, no, nothing like that.
I've got three mummies over here, though.
Well, open the cases up, please.
Sure. There you go.
Ah!
Well, they aren't the best
looking mummies I've ever seen.
Well, you see, they've been sick.
Isn't this fun?
You do know they're marvelous
to have around the house?
Oh, really?
Oh, yes. My nanny had several.
They make excellent lamps.
Oh.
Here, let me show you. You stick the cord in
their nose and the bulbs in their eyes.
Wait-hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Don't think you're fooling us guys.
We know who you are. You're Jack Williams,
the property man on this show.
Look, sweetie, I might be Jack Williams,
the property man to you,
but to twenty million teenagers,
I'm the customs man.
Oh.
You know, he really
is Jack Williams.
And upon closing, folks, I want to thank
Aunt Pat for sending in
those peach preserves.
Just keep those letters and cards coming in.
♪ Everybody loves
somebody sometimes ♪
- Ah! Jack!
- Ha ha!
Hurry, Davy, we must be there
for the reading of the will.
But what about the mummies?
Well, don't worry; they've got
plenty of lamps at the manor.
Ah, welcome home, Mr. Davy, to Kibee Manor.
Yes. They're waiting for you in the library.
Won't you go in? You know,
you haven't changed a bit.
But I must say, you've grown
a little thinner.
Yeah. Oh, I'm-I'm sorry, I'm afraid
you'll have to leave your dog outside.
Oh, it's you, Mr. Fido. Won't you come in?
Come this way, please.
It's about time.
You're David Jones?
Yes, I am. Uh, who are you?
Oh, uh, this is the executor of the will,
Sir Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom.
And that is Lance Kibee, the Sot.
Walk this way.
Do be seated, won't you?
"I, sir Malcolm Kibee,
being of sound body and mind-being
of sound body and mind-"
Ha!
Ha ha ha!
"Being of sound body and mind-"
"Being of sound body and mind-"
"Do hereby bequeath Kibee estate to
one Davy Jones, provided that he
remains permanently at the manor for
a period of no less than five years."
Five years? But say I don't
want to stay that long?
"If Davy Jones refuses to stay,
the land may be purchased by the
villagers of Kibee for the sum
of fifty thousand pounds."
Fifty thousand pounds?
That's a little heavy, that is.
Master Davy, your luggage has arrived.
To where do you want the lamps, governor?
Uh, just put them over there, please.
"If the people of Kibee
fail to raise said sum,
and if David Jones does
not take possession,
the land will become the
property of my nephew,
Lance Kibee, the Sot."
Shall we leave?
Mike, you can come out now.
Oh, boy!
Micky, come on. Peter.
Ah! Are you alright?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Someone's stolen
the steering wheel! Oh.
Boys, I'd like you to meet my daughter,
Mary. Mary, this is Davy,
the new lord of the manor, and his friends,
Pisces, Aquarius, and Capricorn.
Oh, a sister act.
Pleased to meet you.
I shall hate to leave
this place, you know.
Oh, you won't miss this place
when you're taking some
luscious creature to some high
powered London nightclub.
And you'll get your
commission, won't you?
Oh, ah, yes, yes. My commission.
Mere bagatelle. I aim to please.
Yes. Well, I suppose it doesn't matter.
As long as the radio's full,
that's all that matters.
That Lance fella's not the only one around
here that's stiff. Ha ha ha ha ha!
Oh, don't condemn poor Lance.
You mustn't make fun of a drunkard.
- Sot.
- Sot.
It happened during
the war, you see.
Everybody was getting bombed then.
He just never stopped, that's all.
Well, gentlemen, you must be tired.
I'll show you to your stables.
Why, Mr. Davy, you've put
on weight. Follow me.
You mean, go where you go?
- Yes, you follow me.
- We've got to follow him.
Follow you. Alright.
Watch where you-
Follow me.
Bore, bore.
- Bore.
- Boy, am I ever doing nothing.
Bore. Bore.
Gee, what an exciting time
you're having, Micky.
What do the young people do
in this town for excitement?
They move to the big city.
Oh, now we're going to get a
rash of small town jokes.
Oh, no, it's usually quite exciting.
Last year, we found
a mole in the lawn.
I forgot to leave the contract.
Let me see that.
Hey, uh, wait a minute.
This says we've got to
stay here for five years.
Well, if you're bored, you could always
leave the village for the villagers.
But the villagers don't
have that kind of money,
and if the boys leave, the
villagers will lose their homes.
You know something?
We've got to think of something
quick or else we're going to be
stuck here for five years.
I know. I know.
The problem is getting out of
here with a clear conscience.
Well, either we've got to talk
Lance out of selling the estate,
or else we've got to get fifty
thousand pounds for the villagers.
Yeah, but how do we raise
fifty thousand pounds?
Hey! I got it!
Yeah? What, what?
We do what any other normal
people would do in our circumstance,
the most logical solution
to this problem.
What's that?
We have a medieval fair.
- Right, we-
- A medieval fair? That's-
Medieval fair.
That's like a love-in.
Alright, thank you very much.
Now, take a ticket, and beautiful.
Thank you very much.
Ah, bonjour, mademoiselle.
- Hi. Ticket. There you go.
- How much we got so far?
Wait a minute.
We'll find out.
- Two hundred pounds.
- Two hundred pounds?
Man, that's not anywhere
near enough! We'll never get the money!
Ah, don't you worry.
We'll make all our money
betting on the grand championship.
What's that?
The winner of two out of three contests:
jousting, dueling, mace and chain.
Well, that's four!
No. Mace and chain go together.
Oh, really? Well, well, who's
going to do all of these things?
You are. You're the lord of the manor.
Oh. Ah!
Ah, Sir Toppin Middlebottom.
On behalf of all the villagers,
I'd like to make a little wager
on the grand championship.
- You're on. Large?
- Larger.
- Enormous?
- Bigger.
- Monumental?
- It's a deal.
You realize, of course, I'm
a jousting champion?
Oh, I didn't know that. Ah!
Well, you're finished, Twiggly.
A softy like you couldn't
possibly win. Hm hm hm hm!
Now, look, you'll be just fine as long
as you remember everything
that I taught you.
But you didn't teach me anything!
Well, then fake it. Dah.
Ooh!
As challenger, I have the
right to choose weapons!
Now, wait a minute. Shouldn't
that be the other way around?
So be it. As challengee,
I have the choice of weapons.
Gah!
Choose your lance!
Ah!
Choose your lance!
I'll take this one here.
Very well.
You can't use me;
I'll be killed!
Well, I'm not going to
do this alone, you know.
Stop it, Twiggly.
I command you to drop your weapon.
There's no commission if I'm killed.
Very well. You won by a pun,
but I'll beat you in the next contest.
Fancy meeting you down here.
Here's to the pound sterling.
Uh, the winner is Davy Jones.
Yeah!
Put on the gloves, baby! You got to go
out there and fight that great, big, bad-
I feel silly in this outfit.
That's not a silly outfit.
That's fine.
It certainly is a silly outfit
if you've got to fight a duel.
Take the sword and go defend your
honor and the manor, in that order.
Okay.
What?
Go back in there
and get him! Son!
Ah!
The winner of the second contest is
Mr. Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom.
Booze! I'll drink to that!
Yes, and anything else that
comes along. Cor!
The next contest is mace and chain.
How do you feel about that?
Not very good.
Wait! Wait! Wait!
Out of my way, you old coot.
You touch him, and you'll
have to deal with me.
What? You'd risk your
life for this old bum?
Now, watch what you say.
This is my father. What is it, papa?
You're doing it all wrong.
The choice of the
contest is up to the people
present at the fair.
That's the way the fair was started.
That's the way it's supposed to be.
Well, how would you know?
The-the fair started in fifteen hundred!
What do you think I am, a youngster?
Well then, shall the last and
deciding contest be a singing contest?
Absolutely out of the question!
I cannot sing!
You've got to sing, Twiggly.
It's important. Why can't you sing?
Because I've no experience.
Eh! I saw four boys on
television the other night,
and it would have astounded you.
- Really?
- You can sing.
No, I cannot.
Well, if you don't sing, there'll be
no wager, no money, and no commission.
- No wager?
- No wager.
- No money?
- No money.
- No commission?
- No commission.
♪ In the blue of the night ♪
And now,
our troubadouring contest will begin.
Here's Mr. Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom,
who will sing for you that old rendition
of the famous standard that warmed your
heart so many years ago, the
famous ballad, "Greensleeves".
♪ Alas, my love,
you do me wrong ♪
♪ Delighting in your company ♪
Well, OK. Thank you, Mr.
Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom.
The number to call at ye old fairgrounds
is fairgrounds seven
four thousand, and now,
here's our own David Jones,
who will sing for you
that famous rendition
of the famous folk song
that warmed your heart
so many years ago,
on those cold winter nights as you sat
listening to the rain falling-David Jones!
- That's enough...
- Rober seeben.
♪ Alas, my love,
you do me wrong ♪
♪ And cast me off
discourteously ♪
♪ For I have loved
you far too long ♪
♪ Delighting in your company ♪
Thank you very much.
Well, I guess we know.
It's very apparent to me and to
the rest of us who is the
winner of this contest.
It's, of course, David Jones!
Oh, yeah!
Well, do we have enough?
We only have ten thousand pounds.
We're forty thousand pounds short.
Well, we can hold four more fairs.
Well, boys, we tried, didn't we?
Davy, we know how much you want to
go back to the United States,
so we're not going to keep you here.
We insist on your going home.
Lance Kibee, the estate is now yours.
Yours to sell down the river
to some money grubbing
land developer while you go off
and rot your brains
and your liver in some high
tension London club.
But before you go,
I want to give you a piece of
my mind, you drunken sot.
Ever since you were a
little boy you've always been mean
and vicious and rotten and evil,
and when you grew up,
you got even worse.
Your life's a waste! You're a drunkard!
You're not a man, you're a jellyfish!
You're mean and rotten and
evil through and through!
I love you!
And I love you!
Oh! Cancel the sale of the estate!
I'm going to stay here with my wife-to-be.
Oh! Hello there.
Well, that wraps up another half
hour hilarious situation
comedy of the Fantastic Four:
Davy, Peekle, Micky,
and Perkle, Mike a tic. Us.
And we'll be back next week
with more riotous fun,
laughters, and hilarious bits
of antics and humor-
Hey, Mike?
Can I say something?
Yeah, okay, go ahead.
I just wanted to give all our viewers
and-and listeners, who've
been so nice to us,
I wanted to give them our Christmas message,
which is about love and peace and-
Now, wait, hold it. You can't-man, come on.
It's the middle of February.
You can't give them a
Christmas message now.
Well, why not?
Why not? Well, because, you
just-you don't-wuh, uh-well...
Take a letter, keep on going
Where ever it is, she's goin', too.
Give her my autograph and tell her
It's been nice knowin' you.
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
She only sims to please
young celebraties
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
How can I love her,
when I just don't respect her?
When everthing is goin' my way,
She wants to be close at hand.
She moves to some
other doorway
When things don't go
the way she planned.
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
She only sims to please
young celebraties
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
It won't take much time
before I get her off my mind
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
She only sims to please
young celebraties
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
It won't take much time
before I get her off my mind
In this generation
In this lovin' time
In this generation
We will make the world shine
We were born to love one another
This is somethin', we all need
We were born to love one another
We must be what we're goin' to be
And what we have to be, is free
Love is understandin'
We gotta be free
Love is understandin'
We gotta be free
We gotta be free
We gotta be free
this is what we've been working on.
Um, see if you can pick this up,
Micky. Um, one, two, three, four.
♪ Da-da ♪
♪ Da-da, da-da ♪
♪ Da-da, da-da, da-da ♪
♪ Da-da, da-da, da-da,
da-da, da, da-da ♪
- You like it? You like it?
- You like it? You don't-
- That's terrible.
- Horrible. Woo!
That's the worst thing
I ever heard.
Thanks very much, fellas.
My second song.
Someone's at the door.
Does Davy Jones live here?
Davy, me lad!
I've been asking for you up and down
the beach. What's a long-haired weirdo?
It's a local fish; you catch
it with a sharp stick.
Oh ho ho! Hm.
Hey, fellas, you remember
when I was telling you about
Mr. Friar, the innkeeper
from Kibee? Well-
No, you never told us about
Mr. Friar from Kibee.
The innkeeper?
No, I don't remember anything
about an innkeeper.
Well, this is him.
Davy, you must come back to
England immediately.
Oh, I can't do that.
Don't say that, Davy.
Don't say that. Don't-
- Ah!
- Hey!
- On the couch.
- What's the matter with this man?
Sit right there.
Are you okay?
Thank you, miss.
Davy, Young Lord
Kibee has passed on.
Young Lord Kibee? Why, he was
ninety-seven years old when I was there!
That's true. In the prime of his life.
So the villagers sent me to bring you back.
Why do the villagers need me?
Well, we believe that you must
be there for the reading of the will.
We believe Lord Kibee has
left his estate to you.
Well, I can't go back there.
I'm sorry.
Don't say that, Davy.
Hey!
But you've got to do it, Davy.
If you don't, we believe
Lord Kibee's nephew,
Lance Kibee, the Sot, will inherit
the estate and sell it to some developer.
Well, I can dig that, but I still
can't go back there and live.
Oh.
You better cool it, man; this
guy's denting our couch.
Our houses are on that estate,
and if he sells it
to a housing developer,
we'll all be evicted.
Well...
Alright! I'll go.
I'll go.
Phew! That was a close one.
I can't understand. Why did he
leave the estate to me?
I was just a stable boy.
Oh, he loved you, Davy, and he
knew how you loved the estate.
Why, he'd speak of you for hours.
He couldn't have said much about me.
We-we never really talked.
That's true, but what he did say,
he'd say over and over and over and over.
He was as nutty as a fruitcake.
Here we come
Walkin' down the street
We get the funniest looks from
Ev'ry one we meet
Hey, hey, we're the Monkees
And people say we monkey around
But we're too busy singing
To put anybody down
We're just tryin' to be friendly
Come and watch us sing and play
We're the young generation
And we've got something to say
Hey, hey, we're the Monkees
You never know where we'll be found
So you better get ready,
We may be comin' to your town
Gee, Davy, I wish we could all
go to England with you, man.
Boy, that'd be a great idea if we
could all make the trip together.
Are you kidding me, man? We don't have
the money to go down to the corner for gum.
You know something?
Maybe you can't go as passengers...
passengers...
passengers... passengers.
Are you bringing in any fruits,
vegetables, or exotic animals?
Oh, no, nothing like that.
I've got three mummies over here, though.
Well, open the cases up, please.
Sure. There you go.
Ah!
Well, they aren't the best
looking mummies I've ever seen.
Well, you see, they've been sick.
Isn't this fun?
You do know they're marvelous
to have around the house?
Oh, really?
Oh, yes. My nanny had several.
They make excellent lamps.
Oh.
Here, let me show you. You stick the cord in
their nose and the bulbs in their eyes.
Wait-hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Don't think you're fooling us guys.
We know who you are. You're Jack Williams,
the property man on this show.
Look, sweetie, I might be Jack Williams,
the property man to you,
but to twenty million teenagers,
I'm the customs man.
Oh.
You know, he really
is Jack Williams.
And upon closing, folks, I want to thank
Aunt Pat for sending in
those peach preserves.
Just keep those letters and cards coming in.
♪ Everybody loves
somebody sometimes ♪
- Ah! Jack!
- Ha ha!
Hurry, Davy, we must be there
for the reading of the will.
But what about the mummies?
Well, don't worry; they've got
plenty of lamps at the manor.
Ah, welcome home, Mr. Davy, to Kibee Manor.
Yes. They're waiting for you in the library.
Won't you go in? You know,
you haven't changed a bit.
But I must say, you've grown
a little thinner.
Yeah. Oh, I'm-I'm sorry, I'm afraid
you'll have to leave your dog outside.
Oh, it's you, Mr. Fido. Won't you come in?
Come this way, please.
It's about time.
You're David Jones?
Yes, I am. Uh, who are you?
Oh, uh, this is the executor of the will,
Sir Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom.
And that is Lance Kibee, the Sot.
Walk this way.
Do be seated, won't you?
"I, sir Malcolm Kibee,
being of sound body and mind-being
of sound body and mind-"
Ha!
Ha ha ha!
"Being of sound body and mind-"
"Being of sound body and mind-"
"Do hereby bequeath Kibee estate to
one Davy Jones, provided that he
remains permanently at the manor for
a period of no less than five years."
Five years? But say I don't
want to stay that long?
"If Davy Jones refuses to stay,
the land may be purchased by the
villagers of Kibee for the sum
of fifty thousand pounds."
Fifty thousand pounds?
That's a little heavy, that is.
Master Davy, your luggage has arrived.
To where do you want the lamps, governor?
Uh, just put them over there, please.
"If the people of Kibee
fail to raise said sum,
and if David Jones does
not take possession,
the land will become the
property of my nephew,
Lance Kibee, the Sot."
Shall we leave?
Mike, you can come out now.
Oh, boy!
Micky, come on. Peter.
Ah! Are you alright?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Someone's stolen
the steering wheel! Oh.
Boys, I'd like you to meet my daughter,
Mary. Mary, this is Davy,
the new lord of the manor, and his friends,
Pisces, Aquarius, and Capricorn.
Oh, a sister act.
Pleased to meet you.
I shall hate to leave
this place, you know.
Oh, you won't miss this place
when you're taking some
luscious creature to some high
powered London nightclub.
And you'll get your
commission, won't you?
Oh, ah, yes, yes. My commission.
Mere bagatelle. I aim to please.
Yes. Well, I suppose it doesn't matter.
As long as the radio's full,
that's all that matters.
That Lance fella's not the only one around
here that's stiff. Ha ha ha ha ha!
Oh, don't condemn poor Lance.
You mustn't make fun of a drunkard.
- Sot.
- Sot.
It happened during
the war, you see.
Everybody was getting bombed then.
He just never stopped, that's all.
Well, gentlemen, you must be tired.
I'll show you to your stables.
Why, Mr. Davy, you've put
on weight. Follow me.
You mean, go where you go?
- Yes, you follow me.
- We've got to follow him.
Follow you. Alright.
Watch where you-
Follow me.
Bore, bore.
- Bore.
- Boy, am I ever doing nothing.
Bore. Bore.
Gee, what an exciting time
you're having, Micky.
What do the young people do
in this town for excitement?
They move to the big city.
Oh, now we're going to get a
rash of small town jokes.
Oh, no, it's usually quite exciting.
Last year, we found
a mole in the lawn.
I forgot to leave the contract.
Let me see that.
Hey, uh, wait a minute.
This says we've got to
stay here for five years.
Well, if you're bored, you could always
leave the village for the villagers.
But the villagers don't
have that kind of money,
and if the boys leave, the
villagers will lose their homes.
You know something?
We've got to think of something
quick or else we're going to be
stuck here for five years.
I know. I know.
The problem is getting out of
here with a clear conscience.
Well, either we've got to talk
Lance out of selling the estate,
or else we've got to get fifty
thousand pounds for the villagers.
Yeah, but how do we raise
fifty thousand pounds?
Hey! I got it!
Yeah? What, what?
We do what any other normal
people would do in our circumstance,
the most logical solution
to this problem.
What's that?
We have a medieval fair.
- Right, we-
- A medieval fair? That's-
Medieval fair.
That's like a love-in.
Alright, thank you very much.
Now, take a ticket, and beautiful.
Thank you very much.
Ah, bonjour, mademoiselle.
- Hi. Ticket. There you go.
- How much we got so far?
Wait a minute.
We'll find out.
- Two hundred pounds.
- Two hundred pounds?
Man, that's not anywhere
near enough! We'll never get the money!
Ah, don't you worry.
We'll make all our money
betting on the grand championship.
What's that?
The winner of two out of three contests:
jousting, dueling, mace and chain.
Well, that's four!
No. Mace and chain go together.
Oh, really? Well, well, who's
going to do all of these things?
You are. You're the lord of the manor.
Oh. Ah!
Ah, Sir Toppin Middlebottom.
On behalf of all the villagers,
I'd like to make a little wager
on the grand championship.
- You're on. Large?
- Larger.
- Enormous?
- Bigger.
- Monumental?
- It's a deal.
You realize, of course, I'm
a jousting champion?
Oh, I didn't know that. Ah!
Well, you're finished, Twiggly.
A softy like you couldn't
possibly win. Hm hm hm hm!
Now, look, you'll be just fine as long
as you remember everything
that I taught you.
But you didn't teach me anything!
Well, then fake it. Dah.
Ooh!
As challenger, I have the
right to choose weapons!
Now, wait a minute. Shouldn't
that be the other way around?
So be it. As challengee,
I have the choice of weapons.
Gah!
Choose your lance!
Ah!
Choose your lance!
I'll take this one here.
Very well.
You can't use me;
I'll be killed!
Well, I'm not going to
do this alone, you know.
Stop it, Twiggly.
I command you to drop your weapon.
There's no commission if I'm killed.
Very well. You won by a pun,
but I'll beat you in the next contest.
Fancy meeting you down here.
Here's to the pound sterling.
Uh, the winner is Davy Jones.
Yeah!
Put on the gloves, baby! You got to go
out there and fight that great, big, bad-
I feel silly in this outfit.
That's not a silly outfit.
That's fine.
It certainly is a silly outfit
if you've got to fight a duel.
Take the sword and go defend your
honor and the manor, in that order.
Okay.
What?
Go back in there
and get him! Son!
Ah!
The winner of the second contest is
Mr. Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom.
Booze! I'll drink to that!
Yes, and anything else that
comes along. Cor!
The next contest is mace and chain.
How do you feel about that?
Not very good.
Wait! Wait! Wait!
Out of my way, you old coot.
You touch him, and you'll
have to deal with me.
What? You'd risk your
life for this old bum?
Now, watch what you say.
This is my father. What is it, papa?
You're doing it all wrong.
The choice of the
contest is up to the people
present at the fair.
That's the way the fair was started.
That's the way it's supposed to be.
Well, how would you know?
The-the fair started in fifteen hundred!
What do you think I am, a youngster?
Well then, shall the last and
deciding contest be a singing contest?
Absolutely out of the question!
I cannot sing!
You've got to sing, Twiggly.
It's important. Why can't you sing?
Because I've no experience.
Eh! I saw four boys on
television the other night,
and it would have astounded you.
- Really?
- You can sing.
No, I cannot.
Well, if you don't sing, there'll be
no wager, no money, and no commission.
- No wager?
- No wager.
- No money?
- No money.
- No commission?
- No commission.
♪ In the blue of the night ♪
And now,
our troubadouring contest will begin.
Here's Mr. Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom,
who will sing for you that old rendition
of the famous standard that warmed your
heart so many years ago, the
famous ballad, "Greensleeves".
♪ Alas, my love,
you do me wrong ♪
♪ Delighting in your company ♪
Well, OK. Thank you, Mr.
Twiggly Toppin Middlebottom.
The number to call at ye old fairgrounds
is fairgrounds seven
four thousand, and now,
here's our own David Jones,
who will sing for you
that famous rendition
of the famous folk song
that warmed your heart
so many years ago,
on those cold winter nights as you sat
listening to the rain falling-David Jones!
- That's enough...
- Rober seeben.
♪ Alas, my love,
you do me wrong ♪
♪ And cast me off
discourteously ♪
♪ For I have loved
you far too long ♪
♪ Delighting in your company ♪
Thank you very much.
Well, I guess we know.
It's very apparent to me and to
the rest of us who is the
winner of this contest.
It's, of course, David Jones!
Oh, yeah!
Well, do we have enough?
We only have ten thousand pounds.
We're forty thousand pounds short.
Well, we can hold four more fairs.
Well, boys, we tried, didn't we?
Davy, we know how much you want to
go back to the United States,
so we're not going to keep you here.
We insist on your going home.
Lance Kibee, the estate is now yours.
Yours to sell down the river
to some money grubbing
land developer while you go off
and rot your brains
and your liver in some high
tension London club.
But before you go,
I want to give you a piece of
my mind, you drunken sot.
Ever since you were a
little boy you've always been mean
and vicious and rotten and evil,
and when you grew up,
you got even worse.
Your life's a waste! You're a drunkard!
You're not a man, you're a jellyfish!
You're mean and rotten and
evil through and through!
I love you!
And I love you!
Oh! Cancel the sale of the estate!
I'm going to stay here with my wife-to-be.
Oh! Hello there.
Well, that wraps up another half
hour hilarious situation
comedy of the Fantastic Four:
Davy, Peekle, Micky,
and Perkle, Mike a tic. Us.
And we'll be back next week
with more riotous fun,
laughters, and hilarious bits
of antics and humor-
Hey, Mike?
Can I say something?
Yeah, okay, go ahead.
I just wanted to give all our viewers
and-and listeners, who've
been so nice to us,
I wanted to give them our Christmas message,
which is about love and peace and-
Now, wait, hold it. You can't-man, come on.
It's the middle of February.
You can't give them a
Christmas message now.
Well, why not?
Why not? Well, because, you
just-you don't-wuh, uh-well...
Take a letter, keep on going
Where ever it is, she's goin', too.
Give her my autograph and tell her
It's been nice knowin' you.
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
She only sims to please
young celebraties
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
How can I love her,
when I just don't respect her?
When everthing is goin' my way,
She wants to be close at hand.
She moves to some
other doorway
When things don't go
the way she planned.
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
She only sims to please
young celebraties
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
It won't take much time
before I get her off my mind
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
She only sims to please
young celebraties
She's a star collector
(collector of stars)
It won't take much time
before I get her off my mind
In this generation
In this lovin' time
In this generation
We will make the world shine
We were born to love one another
This is somethin', we all need
We were born to love one another
We must be what we're goin' to be
And what we have to be, is free
Love is understandin'
We gotta be free
Love is understandin'
We gotta be free
We gotta be free
We gotta be free