There now follows a BBC comedy programme. Please stop us if you’ve heard it before.
And now, 30 Minutes Theatre. We present: ‘A Ticket To Istanbul’, adapted for radio by someone who looks a bit like a friend of Harold Pinter.
theme music starts
A Ticket To Istanbul
down & out
railway station atmosphere
Second class return to Istanbul. Date: Five Seven Sixty-Three.
Nineteen pounds, forty-five pence. Off-peak. For conditions, see overleaf.
Issued subject to the Rules and Regulations in the publications and notices of British Rail.
Five O Six Three Seven Nine Two One …
… Nine O O O Seven Three Four: This is not transferrable!
That was A Ticket To Istanbul. Tomorrow’s 30 Minute Theatre will be A Dry-Cleaning Docket From Hackney, read by Sir John Gielgud. Details of that, and other programmes for the coming week are available in the new issue of the Radio Times. On sale now from all good newsagents, priced at just a few pence.
Also in the new issue of the Radio Times: Terry Scott talks about what it’s like to be a funny comedian – in an interview with one. And there’s a searching look behind the scenes of BBC’s Nine O’Clock News with a full report on the changing of Angela Rippon’s antifreeze.
Eddie Waring looks back on his days as dialogue coach to The Flower Pot Men. (audience reaction) There’s a two-page spread on a man who’s found out who Julian Pettifer is, and a middle-age spread on Michael Parkinson.
There’s also a funny article on Magnus Pyke’s left shoe – but he’s hoping to scrape it off. Together of course with your usual full coverage of all that’s best in TV and Radio, plus David Hamilton.
All that and more in the current issue of Radio Times; with a very bad painting of someone doing something on the cover; available now from all good newsagents for just a few pence.
This is Radio Four. And now, a few more details about the new issue of Radio Times. On page one, there’s a résumé of all the new series beginning this week on BBC, with programme titles in—
something on glockenspiel, then down for
A new showing of—
—The Lively Arts, BBC Two, eight fifty-five pm.
—looks at the forthcoming star-studded production of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, in which Richard Burton plays Bottom to Elizabeth Taylor’s Titania, and (audience reaction) Miss Taylor plays Titania to a very unappreciative audience indeed.
has faded out
And this week, Esther Rantzen is given something she really has difficulty getting her teeth into – a bucket. (audience reaction) In—
—That’s Life, BBC One, eleven twenty-five. So it saves you taking sleeping tablets.
—she goes out into the streets, asking people if they want a free press. Twenty-two men will appear in court on Monday.
On the eve of the MCC’s crucial match against the touring one-legged Zambezi Pygmies Geriatric Eleven, John Arlott finds out where the team for the—
—First Test, BBC Two, eleven twenty-five to eleven thirty, assuming England go into bat first.
—are getting all their new fast bowlers from, in a special interview with the head of Madame Tussauds.
—Film 77, BBC One, but has long words in it, eight pm.
—a young American director explains how broadcasting can be fun, providing you use the right sort of broads.
Research shows that most of our listeners like nothing better than Don Davis and one of his quizzes, so at seven pm tonight on Radio Two we present the new series of—
—Nothing. (pause) Thursday!
And a big coup for BBC television in tonight’s edition of—
—Top of the Pop, BBC One, seven ten to seven forty. But seems like a lot longer.
—producer Johnnie Stewart has just contracted the Rolling Stones. He’s been advised to stay in bed and lay off fatty foods.
—The Money Programme, BBC Two. Five minutes after the time everyone switches over to Kojak.
—the man who looks a bit like one of the panellists on New Faces discusses business expansion with someone who’s got a finger in every pie: He’s a waiter in a British Rail buffet.
Yes, all that, plus the date, a little sign saying ‘Radio Times’, and the address and phone numbers of the editorial department on page one of the current edition of the Radio Times. Available in plain brown wrapping from all quite good newsagents at just a few pence.
short bit of [??]
This is Radio Four.
The Thing That Goes… (listen to it)
Now, for a complete change of mood: Page two of the current issue of Radio Times. On sale now from all not all that bad newsagents at just a few pence.
And on page two this week, there’s an interesting feature on Tomorrow’s World, which this week looks at the new Japanese fully-automated model of Raymond Baxter. The big problem at the moment of course lies in the nasty humming and whirring noises and the jerky movements; but they’re expecting to add these very shortly.
Also in the article: A detailed look at some of the new British inventions now applying for patents.
knocking on door, door handle
Is this the place where I come in and say ‘Is this the Patents Office?’
No, it’s the place where I say ‘Certainly, what can I do for you?’
Ah, ah well. I have here a little something I think might interest you.
(pause, audience reaction)
The next line’s been cut.
Oho, has it? Right, how about this then? The Whizzo Automatic Boat. Aye, see, it’s got the nut already welded to it, so it saves you the bother of screwing it on. Neat, eh? (short pause) Or, there’s this: The Whizzo Three-ended Sausage, for the people who like the crispy bits. (short pause) Or, what about this? The Whizzo Popup Toaster. Let me show you:
lever being depressed, electrical humming, ‘boing, sproing’
I see, that’s very interesting, but isn’t it the toast that’s supposed to pop up?
[??], I think you’re right. Ha. Oh help me down off the [??], will you?
Well, there we are. Er well, what do you think?
No, I don’t think any of those jokes are worth patenting, I’m afraid. Try Max Bygraves.
Breach of the peace. Next!
door handle, door closing
This way please. Right, this is the patents officer, off you go.
(exuberant) Right. Have I got a terrific new invention. It’s a blockbuster. Believe me, you have never seen anything like it. This will revolutionise the world.
I better take your name then.
Right, er. Halexander Graham Bell.
Not the Alexander Graham Bell?!
(quiet) Oh. Who..who’s the Alexander Graham Bell?
Well he invented the telephone bell. He died in er—
Er no no no no no, I..I think, I think I must probably be the other one.
What have you got for us then?
(exuberant again) Well prepare yourself to be hoverwhelmed and may I present to you, my amazing, helectrifying, in-coo-redible twolegged chair.
(pause, audience reaction)
Ah yes, it sounds incredible, don’t it, eh? But here it is, go on, just try it out for yourself. Come on, come on, sit on it, sit on it.
Oh well, alright then if you insist—
chair falls over
Owww!! It falls over!
It falls over! It’s only got two legs, it just falls over!
(sheepishly) Err… well, yes, that, that, that is its weakness, yes er… (exuberant again) You’ve got to look [?? it, ?? it ?], what do you think? D’you reckon it’s got possibilities?
None whatsoever. Didn’t you ever stop to consider that a chair won’t stand up with two legs?
(sheepishly) Oh. Oh I see. (excited again) Hup, alright then. Look, I tell you what I do: I’ll saw one of them off! You see? Look, be honest, it’s brilliant, innit?
Mr Bell, it..you seem to have no idea of the basic principles of physics, it just will not stand up on the floor!
Alright, alright then, I-I’ll cut a bit off each leg, see. Then they’ll be too short to reach the ground you see, and it-i..it won’t need to stand on the floor, how about that?
Perhaps you wouldn’t mind explaining to me Mr Bell, what is the point of having a twolegged chair?
The point? The point,—
The point, yeah.
—sure cor, ain’t it marvellous, I mean don’t it just choke you up, eh? Cor, what would have happened, if they’d said to John Logie Baird (mockingly) ‘What’s the point of having television?’ (normal) Yeah, we’d all be sitting round, no, enjoying ourselves! Now look, don’t waste my time, don’t waste my— I can go elsewhere, you know? [Oh for sure. ?]
Oh yes, like where?
Hyde Park I can go. Yeah, I go to feed the ducks. Or I’ll could drop in with my aunt in Catford for a slice of coffee. Yeah, now now Sir look, Sir look, don’t beat round the bush, what d’you say, just give me a straight yes or no.
Look, I haven’t got all day, I want a definite, a definite positive decision about my twolegged chair. Right now.
Mister Bell, I can see the only way to terminate this interview is to suggest you take note of the chair I’m sitting in!
(mumbling) You’re s..si… (enraged) Well, the— Hup! I’ve alr— Cor, you— you..you’ve already— you pinched my idea, you have—
What do you mean?
There, what you’re, what you’re sittin’ in: It’s a [??] direct pinch, that is! It’s a twolegged chair with a couple of spares at the back!
An.. an extract there from page two of Radio Times. Later on of course, it’s time for page three:
Among the fascinating words on page three this week are: ‘expensive’, ‘sloth’ and ‘didn’t’. Along with some exciting new words like ‘navel’, ‘vibrator’ and ‘upwards’.
And on page four,—
—more words. Yes, big words, small words, words with the letter ‘F’ in them, plurals, prepositions, proper nouns, adverbs; there’s something for all the family on page four of the Radio Times this week. Remember: It’s only just come out, so why not buy a copy of the Radio Times now and cover it up? Available from all so-so newsagents priced at just a few pence.
And now, a look at some of the other pages coming your way this week in the current edition of Radio Time: On page seven, there’s another in our series of sensational advertisements.
vibraphone glissando, then [??]
New, from K-Burk, the people who brought you ‘Elvis – Live from The Piccadilly Circus Conveniences’:
(singing, very tinny-sounding) I’m all shook up…
lavatory being flushed
‘Little Jimmy Osmond sings Victor Hugo’:
Little Jimmy Osmond – Long Haired Lover From Liverpool
(singing) I’ll be your long haired lover from Liverpool—
guillotine blade falling down
—If you’ll be my sunshine daisy from L.A.
out, [??] resumes
And ‘The Best of Charles Aznavour’:
Now, K-Burk’s most sensational record ever: ‘Stockhausen’s Greatest Hits’. Who can ever forget—
crash, ‘burp’, more crashing/clanging
Or, everybody’s favourite—
more crashing and clanging noises, including a piano, ‘burp’
And what about the warm romantic tones of—
‘cock-a-doodle-doo’, then same noises as above
And Stockhausen’s greatest unfinished masterpiece—
metallic object clattering on the floor, ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’, again same noises as above, followed by more clattering and sproinging overlaid over the finale of the 1812 Overture
Yes, ‘Stockhausen’s Greatest Hits’. Available from Boots, [Shoes ?], WH Loonies, [??], [??] and all good [road works ?]. As used by Robin Ray – when there weren’t enough table mats to go round. Yes, annoy the neighbours in style with K-Burk.
up & out
An extract there from page eight of the current edition of Radio Times. And there’s a whole range of other adverts you can be conned by on the next three pages. While on page eleven you can be conned by this week’s film review:
20th Century Fox Fanfare
(over) And now: This week’s film, with Philip Hello-Sailor.
to finish & out
Sunday. Top Hat. Don’t miss the unusual number where Astaire and Rogers tap their way through thirty-thousand [dirty ?] patches. Perhaps Ginger Rogers would have been more suitable than Roy, however Archaeo-Radio-Pictures went bust soon after for not being able to sell many pictures to radio. Watch out also for the shot of the small pimple on Fred’s cheek in real three. His demand that it should be cut out quite ruined the film – left little holes all over the celluloid. Tuesday. Moses and the Ten Commandments. DeMille thought the rushes were great, but unfortunately the same couldn’t be said to the actors in front of them. Don’t miss the parting of the Red Sea – it later married Elizabeth Taylor. Thursday. A Night at the Opera. Superb direction by Sam Wood made this one of the Marx Brothers’ funniest movies. I counted eighty-seven pimples between the four of them – excluding the controversial thing on Harpo’s left nostril, which was at first thought to be a pimple, but later identified as a mole, when it darted up his face and started tunneling through his hair. Friday, oh Friday. Psycho. Nice in the plot, but not a great deal in this one for pimple buffs. Look out though for the couple of then virtually unknown pimples on the drugstore assistant, who was later to become famous as Twiggy.
Philip Hello-Sailor there with this week’s films. One of many extracts from the new edition of Radio Times, which as we said earlier, is on sale now from all awful newsagents, priced at just a few pence.
The Thing That Goes… (listen to it)
This is Radio Four.
Well now, we’re at last ready for our next programme here tonight on Radio Four: From Birmingham, we present – another advertisement for the new edition of Radio Times.
And on page (voice derails a little) thirty-th..heugh, I’ll try that again. Ahem. (voice back to normal) While on page seventeen, there are details of Saturday’s television shows. And on page eighteen there’s a lot of small print which some scientists believe may actually be details of radio programmes. And of course, under the photograph of Patrick Moore’s suit crumpler on page twenty, you can see this:
Oh er, excuse me.
phone handset lifted off cradle
Err, I beg your pardon?
Stop. This is Beatrice Crint of Chingford here.
I’m, I’m sorry—
Stop. You said at the beginning of this programme that if we’d heard it before we were to stop you, well I have heard it before.
Err… er look madam, er you do realise that this joke only works if people are listening to the repeat, do you?
Oh. Sorry. Does it?
Oh. I didn’t think of that.
Obviously, now get off the line, please!
phone handset being replaced on cradle
(intake of breath) Now then (exhaling), on page twenty—
You think it’d be better if I didn’t mention it then?
Hem, now look, what is this? I just put the phone down on you!
leafing through pages of paper
further rustling of paper
(nervous laugh) We erm…
further rustling of paper
We, we apologise to listeners for what seems to have been a rather longer than usual publicity announcement there on er, on the er current edition of the Radio Times. Err hem, available of course from all nasty, obnoxious little newsagents. Er, we-we do as I say apologise most sincerely… er in fact erm, very, very sincerely because erm, (intake of breath) er we’re going on with the advert a bit more…
And this week there’s a treat in store for all page thirty-two fans: Yes, you’re very own page thirty-two to cut out and keep. And remember, the special Radio Times binder is now on sale for you to store away all those page thirty-twos to look back on when you’re old and decrepit, later this evening. And on page thirty-three, yes, you’ve guessed it, another advert.
At last: Revolutionary breakthrough! Relief for baldness sufferers! This man is not wearing a wig or any form of toupet.
Arrow points to picture of bald man.
That’s because he hasn’t yet discovered ‘Glue It On’ hairpieces. If you’re bald, if chickens keep sitting on your head, if people stick their fingers up your nose in bowling alleys, then you need ‘Glue It On’! Simply send off now for our brochure and soon you, too, could look like this:
Picture of man, with a brochure over his head.
If however you prefer to wear a wig, ‘Glue It On’ have the answer:
Picture of man with silly grin on his face… (almost laughs) and a full head of hair.
As you can see, with ‘Glue It On’ toupets it’s impossible to detect even the most subtle differences in hair colour and tone. How is it done? Simple: We just use black-and-white photographs in all our advertisements.
Also, new from ‘Glue It On’: Relief for unwanted hair sufferers. Do you worry yourself sick about unsightly hair?
Picture of woman worrying herself sick about unsightly hair.
Well, just send six hundred and seventy-three pounds fifty pence off now to us at ‘Glue It On’, and by return of post we’ll send you – nothing. That way, you worry yourself sick even more, and eventually your hair will drop out of its own accord.
Yes, Glue It On! The name you can trust – but only if you’re really gullible.
That’s followed in the next column by details for BBC Two, containing all the information you need to know about BBC Two programmes. Like ‘What the hell was that all about?’ In the case of the following programme, the answer is: Very little.
Easy Listening-style music, then down for
(over) Good evening and welcome to Luxembourg, for this, the most glittering night in the international show business calendar. The battle for that most coveted of coveted awards, the Eurovision Raquel Welch gag contest.
crowd atmosphere, applause
(over) Ah, and here now onto this magnificent stage decorated with two very interesting motifs comes our lovely hostess for the evening, Miss [Katya ?] Boiler.
Bonsoir, mesdame et masseur. Good evening, you load of foreigners. And our first entry tonight comes from Germany. And here is its cracker, Hans Short-Trousers.
Hans Short-Trousers from Hamburg, who is going to tell the German Raquel Welch gag tonight: ‘The Hair Restorer’.
(German sounding gibberish) Ahem. Ha. Sie ack mich die, und fusch panna Raquel Welch, ha, ha, ha. Mit die Achtung maschtem im Sprühsand, ha, ha! Hair restorer. (short pause) [??], die Schmidt heißt, kommt, ha… kommt schon der… the coconut [shot ?]!
(over) And that went well! It went well there for Germany, but they’ve got some stiff competition here tonight from the next country, one of the favourites in this contest: France, who of course won last year with their gag ‘La tempête dans un D cup’. And here they are, here they are with this year’s gag: ‘Un jour’, cracked by Charles Aznatalent.
Un jour… (unintelligible French sounding gibberish) … Raquel Welch… (more gibberish) … British Leyland car. (more gibberish) … Tit for tat. Ahaha.
(over) Oh, and that one has set the place alight there, the French entry. Now it’s time for the entry from Monaco, er not rated as being with much of a chance this one. ‘Los Mashed Potatoes’, with their Raquel Welch gag, ‘El Own Accord’.
(together) Raquel Welch, she has just gone to the West Indies. Jamaica? No, she go of her own accord!
And I don’t think that Los Mashed Potatoes quite got the idea of the contest there, so as they walk offstage to the sound of their own feet, it’s time now for Britain’s own entry. Britain’s entry composed by joke writer Bad Toupet, and performed by Nobody Very-Special:
A he he. Raquel Welch has just announced she’s going in for a trial separation. Hehe. Bang-ding-dong-la-la-uh-dingaling-dang-dong-bong. Provided she can find a bra strong enough. Boo-bing-dang-wong-long-dong-bongalong-shtoo-lah-wigga-digga-dong.
Thank you, Great Britain. Ladies and gentlemen, we are very sorry that owing to great pressure the two big favourites have dropped out.
(over) And that was the Luxembourg entry there, which seems to have gone very well. We’ll know very soon when we’ve got the score. Ah! Is this it?
E buonasera. [??] de signorita [Fasolatti ?] è due ponte. Deux points, two points.
(over) And that was the Italian entry.
And one of the band has just blown a fanfare, but fortunately was covered by the noise of a trumpet. But back now, back now comes [Katya ?] to announce the winner:
Ladies and gentlemen, I see from our electronic scoreboard that this year’s winner with one point is – Ireland.
Oh, and the Irish contestants have done it after all. And so as Doherty and Doherty come forward to collect their trophy, two free pass-outs from the Des O’Connor show of their choice…
crowd chanting in background
… we bid you farewell from Luxembourg, and leave you once again with Ireland’s winning entry in this year’s Eurovision Raquel Welch gag contest:
What’s the difference between Raquel Welch and a beetroot?
One is used to make wine…
… and the other is a woman with big knockers.
a few notes of the previous easy listening-style title music
Those are just some of the delights in store for you in this week’s new edition of the Radio Times. On sale now at all smutty, greasy, horribly pusillanimous, malodorous little newsagents. And now, we’re pleased to say that we are actually going to proceed with the scheduled programme, The Burkiss Way.
Burkiss Way opening signature tune
(over) At last, relief for corn sufferers. With new, improved Burkiss toe pads. Yes, with our toe pads you can turn off Celebrity Squares in comfort without even moving from your chair, providing instant corn relief. Yes, this is just one of many amazing secrets revealed by Jo Kendall, Chris Emmett, Nigel Rees and Fred Harris in the Burkiss Way to Dynamic Living. This week, settle back and listen to Lesson 12: Make Short Comedy Programmes The Burkiss Way.
(applause and cheering)
Hello, hello again. And have you always longed to be able to make incredibly short comedy shows for radio? Well, just listen carefully and we’ll show you exactly how it’s done.
Burkiss Way closing signature tune
(over) Well, that’s it for another week, folks. If you’d like to learn more incredible secrets, send your name to our cast now, but only if it’s Jo Kendall, Chris Emmett, Nigel Rees or Fred Harris, otherwise they won’t be able to use it. Send your address to writers Andrew Marshall and David Renwick, and they’ll arrange for government-approved squatters to [call ?] on you in the privacy of your own home. Finally, send all five pound notes to producer Simon Brett of Stepney, so he can show his colleagues at the BBC what they look like. See you next week folks and happy dynamic living!
to finish & out
That programme replaced the one advertised in the Radio Times.