S02E12 Lesson 18 – Become a Rock Star the Burkiss Way

Continuity Announcer: (chuckles) Well, a reminder that there’ll be another edition of the Burkiss Way at the same time next week. And if you’d like to join the Burkiss Way’s audience, just write to us, and we’ll direct you to their psychiatric wing. Remember the address: Broadcasting House, London W1A 1AA. And of course, if you’d like some tickets to see the show, just get in touch with us, and we’ll arrange for a party of tickets to come along to one of the recordings.

(pause)

Female Announcer: Chris Emmett is now appearing as a jar of Vaporub at the Old Vic.

Music: Burkiss Way closing signature tune

Burkiss Way Announcer: (over) Well, that ends Lesson 18 in our funky series of correspondence courses, Become A Rock Star The Burkiss Way. If you write now to Jo Kendall, Nigel Rees, Chris Emmett and Fred Harris, in no time at all they’ll make your voice great like Rod Stewart’s. All you need are some numbers written by Andrew Marshall and David Renwick, and some additional numbers by John Lloyd, Douglas Adams and Chris [Keepie ??]. Have your record produced today by Simon Brett of Stepney. See you next week, rock fans, and hippy dynamic living!

Music: to finish and out

Dean Martin: Well from me, hic, Dean Martin, I’d just like to say: Good bye dynamic livers everywhere. G’night.

Male Presenter: And finally, a last word on the music business from Dean Martin.

F/X: high-pitched beep

Female Announcer: Erm, we apologise for the fact that this week’s edition of the Burkiss Way appears to have started at the wrong end, and is now going backwards. We’ll try and set this right as soon as possible, but in the mean time, here is a short intermission.

Music: vibraphone glissando, then Theme from A Summer Place

Announcer: There will now be a short intermission; although probably not quite as short as you might expect…

Music: Miklós Rózsa – King of Kings theme

Male Voice-over: (over) Coming soon to this embarrassing technical hold-up: The Burkiss Way to Dynamic Living. Yes, the humorous wireless programme of a lifetime. The show that starts where all the others left off: At the end! With scripts that combines the wit of Arthur Mullard, Bernard Manning and Esther Rantzen in one breathtaking, never-to-be-forgotten full stop. Witness again the agony, the sheer pathos of two grown men, struggling to simulate a Japanese accent.

Music: out

F/X: gong

Simpkins (fake Japanese accent): Hahh, you wanted to see me, Sir?

Commander (ditto): Haa, yes, Simpkins. (audience reaction) Now, Simpkins, how long have you been a Kamikaze pilot?

(audience reaction)

Simpkins: Two years now, Sir.

Commander: Two years? And, during that time, Simpkins, how many Kamikaze missions have you flown?

Simpkins: Er, nineteen, Sir!

Commander: Haaa! Nineteen?

Simpkins: Yes, Sir.

Commander: Hah! Hwell, let us for a moment refresh our memories about the function of a Kamikaze pilot. There are various ancillary facets to the job regarding damage to enemy craft, but broadly speaking, Simpkins, I think you will hagree with me, the idea is to kill yourself.

Simpkins: Er, correct Sir, correct.

Commander: Now, you will concede, that I am not overstating the case, unduly, hwhen I say that you don’t seem to have had a lot of luck in that particular regard.

Simpkins: Er no, Sir, I think the whole idea is rather silly, Sir.

Commander: Silence, Simpkins! Silence! Your record is, to say the least, habominable. Let us just recap, shall we?

F/X: leafing through pages

Commander: One: Couldn’t find target.

Simpkins: No, Sir.

Commander: Two: Couldn’t find target. Three: Couldn’t find target. Four: Couldn’t find target. Five: Forgot headband. Six: Couldn’t find target. Seven: Couldn’t find target. Eight: Headband slipped (getting incredulous) over my eyes!

Simpkins: I couldn’t find target, Sir.

Commander: Ohhh! Ni… nine: Couldn’t find target. Ten: Came back with headache.

Simpkins: Yes, Sir. Haa, the headband was too tight, Sir.

Commander: Hand eleven to eighteen: Couldn’t find target. Nineteen: Got halfway there, then had to come back. Why, why was this??

Simpkins: Forgot the plane, Sir.

Commander: Oh!! Now, now this, this ‘Couldn’t find target’ theory of yours, Simpkins, haaaa, Hhi don’t think you’ve been looking very hard.

Simpkins: Oh, yes, Sir! Yes, Sir! I have, Sir! I have been looking all over the place.

Commander: Well?

Simpkins: But sometimes you can search for hours and not see a single aircraft carrier.

Commander: Oh. Well, where exactly have you been looking for these aircraft carriers, Simpkins?

Simpkins: Er, well, Sir, I, er, er Sir, erm…

Commander: Haa, I mean for instance, I notice that you seem to have more or less ignored the sea. I would have thought the sea, the sea was quite a promising [place ??].

Simpkins: I’m sorry, Sir, but I stand by what I said, Sir. I don’t think we should be doing this at all. All this flying out and crashing into American and British ships and blowing them up, it’s all wrong, Sir!

Commander: (enraged) Hoohh! Hoooohh!! Hoohh! Hwrong, Simpkins? Hoohh! Give me one good reason, why it’s all wrong!

Simpkins: Well, the war finished thirty-two years ago, Sir.

F/X: gong

Music: King of Kings resumes

Male Voice-over: Yes, the show that’s more exciting than Barbara Windsor put together! The Burkiss Way to Dynamic Living tells the heart-rending joke of two Irishmen, who were stranded for three days in the Underground when their escalator broke down. [??] once again with the tormented passion of ‘The Cave Man Sketch’.

Music: fades out

F/X: water dripping, continues in the background throughout the scene

F/X: cave entrance stone being pushed open

Cave Man: Hello, mum. Hear, me and the tribe bagged a mammoth today, thanks to my latest log invention.

Cave Mum: Log invention?

Cave Man: Yeah. I call it the ‘hand log’, mum. You see, you get a small log, you hold it in your hand, and you can kill mammoths with it.

Cave Mum: How?

Cave Man: Cor mum, it’s obvious. You and the tribe wait for a mammoth and when one comes along, you raise the hand log over its head, —

Cave Mum: Yeah?

Cave Man: —and when the mammoth jumps up, it hits its head on the hand log and knocks itself out. It’s clever, innit?

(pause)

Cave Mum: What if the mammoth doesn’t jump up?

Cave Man: Yeah, well, it is only designed to kill jumping mammoths.

Cave Mum: So, it was a jumping mammoth you caught, was it?

Cave Man: Oh no, no, no. No. Not a lot of jumping mammoths about round here. This is strolling mammoth country really, ’course no doubt there were jumping mammoths here at one time, but we can only conclude that the ones that did jump, er… haven’t come down yet.

Cave Mum: So what sort of mammoth did you get then?

Cave Man: Ah, well, this is the genius bit, see mum. For the non-jumping mammoth, you and the tribe wait for a mammoth same as before, you hold the hand log, you lift it up, and whop, you knock it out!

Cave Mum: You lift up the hand log, and whop, you knock it out?

Cave Man: No mum, what are you.. listen. You, you hold the hand log, you lift up the mammoth and whop, you knock it out. See, it saves you the bother of getting the mammoth to jump, see. Mind you, mind you, you need about forty blokes to lift the mammoth.

Cave Mum: Oh, they must be stupid!

Cave Man: True, they’re not the most lucid of creatures, mammoths. That’s what allows us to beguile ’em with our superior technology, see. They get pretty scared, these mammoths, and then they’re liable to sit on you.

Cave Mum: Get off!

Cave Man: No good telling the mammoth that, mum.

Music: King of Kings resumes

Male Voice-over: Yes, The Burkiss Way to Dynamic Living. The show that made Edgar Allen Poe a household name… brings to life the golden age of comedy, which began with Max Bygraves and ended with Aristophanes. In the scene that has now become a legend in its own right, the one, the only, the Intermission!

Music: vibraphone glissando, then Theme from A Summer Place

Announcer: There will now be a short intermission.

Music: cheerful advertising tune

Female Voice-over: (over) Planning a holiday? Then why not come to Lowestoft? Yes, Lowestoft boasts the best skiing facilities in Suffolk! You’ll have the time of your life in one of the many quaint little Austrian villas, which nestle among Lowestoft’s breathtaking snowcapped mountains! Then, in the afternoon, why not hire one of Lowestoft’s native Moroccan camels, to see the awe-inspiring pyramids of Lowestoft! And round off the evening by taking in Lowestoft’s famous Grand Canyon by moonlight! Yes, there’s all this to see and more, in Lowestoft!

Music: down

Tourist Board Spokesman: NB: This advertisement is issued by the Lowestoft Not Entirely Truthful Tourist Board.

Music: out

F/X: seagulls, seaside atmosphere

F/X: door bell, door handle

Landlady: Oh. Hello. Welcome to Lowestoft. Good old Lowestoft. You luv it here in Lowestoft, and Lowestoft luv you. Nowhere quite like Lowestoft I always say, that’s Lowestoft for you. I wouldn’t live anywhere else but here in Lowestoft, ha ha haa, welcome to Lowestoft!

Mr Hackinbottom: Hello… (nervous laugh), is this Skegness?

Landlady: No, but it’ll do.

Mr Hackinbottom: Oh good.

F/X: door closing shut, seaside atmosphere stops

Mr Hackinbottom: My name is Norman Hackinbottom. And, and this is my wife and two pet daughters, none of whom say anything because we’ve only got one woman in the cast and that’s you.

Landlady: Oh! Oh, I understand, right. Well, I think you’ll enjoy your stay here at Funny Name guest house…

Mr Hackinbottom: (nervous laugh)

Landlady: … as you’ll see we’ve got wall to wall floors…

Mr Hackinbottom: Ohhh.

Landlady: … ample ceiling space—

Mr Hackinbottom: Mmm.

Landlady: —and we’re conveniently situated just a stonethrow away from people throwing stones.

F/X: stone smashing through window

Mr Hackinbottom: I see.

Landlady: Now then, I expect you’d like me to tell you the meal arrangements.

Mr Hackinbottom: Oh.

F/X: door handle

F/X: dining room atmosphere

Landlady: Now you’ll be sitting here at table number four, with Mr Earp.

Mr Hackinbottom: Mr Earp? Ohoho, no relation to Wyatt Earp, is he?

Landlady: Oh no, no relation no…

Mr Hackinbottom: Hohohoho ho…

Landlady: … this is Wyatt Earp.

Wyatt Earp (American accent): Howdy partner, mighty pleased to meet you.

Landlady: And over here, at table three, is Mr Cisco Kid.

Cisco Kid (Hispanic accent): Hello, gringo.

Landlady: I won’t be a minute with your corn flakes, Mr Cisco Kid, I’m just showing this family round. And here, at table one, are The Magnificent Seven.

Cowboy 1: Lay off that toast, Brynner!

Cowboy 2: Now could you pass the marmalade, Bronson?

Cowboy 1: Why, you dirty stick?

F/X: revolver shots, bullets flying

(various shouts and cries)

Mr Hackinbottom: Are all your guests cowboys?

Landlady: Oh, no no no no, goodness me, no, we get all sorts here. We got the Lone Ranger in room fourteen, Jesse James and a gentleman friend in room ten, the [??], there’s Pat Garrett and Doc Holliday, and Billy the Kid.

Mr Hackinbottom: In other words, they are all cowboys.

Landlady: Erm, yes.

F/X: window getting smashed

Mr Hackinbottom: Cowboys? In Lowestoft?

Landlady: Yes.

Mr Hackinbottom: I always thought Lowestoft was an English seaside resort?

Landlady: Ohhh, you’re thinking of pay day.

Mr Hackinbottom: That’s true, yes.

Landlady: You see, it all started when we had one of those exchange visits, you know, those friendship town schemes.

Mr Hackinbottom: What was the other town?

Landlady: Dodge City.

Mr Hackinbottom: Oh… I’m getting out of here.

F/X: door closing, then crashing and clattering noises from outside

Mr Hackinbottom: Oh!

Music: The Magnificent Seven theme

Female Voice-over: (over) Yes, Lowestoft. Where men are fierce, tough and masculine, and sailors are disappointed. Where, where you can be hanged for stealing a pair of coconut shells, and where a six-gun can maim a man for life, particularly if he wears his holster on the inside.

Music: out

F/X: saloon atmosphere, with piano in the background

Old Tom: Yehehee…

F/X: revolver shots

Old Tom: … yeehooo, yoohoo! See partner, yehe, I [???] just struck it rich!

Old Tom’s Partner: What’s that, Old Tom?

Old Tom: I said I just struck it rich at last! Hehee! I been up in them hills, car-prospecting.

Old Tom’s Partner: Car-prospecting?

Old Tom: Yes surey.

Old Tom’s Partner: Why, you must be [plum local ?], old Tom. There ain’t no cars within fifty miles of here.

Old Tom: Yohoo, up in [yonder ?] stream, there is. There’s Hillman Imps up in that stream.

Old Tom’s Partner: Baaah. Them’s not real Hillman Imps, them’s just Fool’s Hillman Imps.

Old Tom: Well, what other sort is there? He hee. (audience reaction) Yeehee! [Dog nobbin’, ???] I tell you. —

Old Tom’s Partner: Arr…

Old Tom: —I heard it from a prospector came out from Great Yarmouth Way, say. Seems he’d been panning for Ford Anglias in the local creek, yup, strained the water away and there left in the pan, was: a British Leyland Thirteen-hundred. Yep, he took it straightway [to ?? ?] to the local assays office…

Old Tom’s Partner: And what did he say?

Old Tom: Yeah, just said it was just a lump o’ rusty old metal.

Old Tom’s Partner: [Yeepers ?], it was genuine then.

Old Tom: Sure! Yes, Sir eh, and that ain’t all. D’you know what I got in the river this morning?

Old Tom’s Partner: Wet?

Old Tom: Now look here, this, now just look here, just empty up the ol’ purse and er…

F/X: heavy metallic object falling out and clattering

Old Tom: … [purty ??].

Old Tom’s Partner: Way!

F/X: car doors closing

Old Tom’s Partner: Well how do you like that? A Jensen Interceptor!

F/X: motor revving

Old Tom: Ye he! Sure thing. Why, with this I’ll reckon I’ll be up and get me one of them purty show girls.

Old Tom’s Partner: Yeah, look out, Ol’ Tommer, here’s one coming over to the table now.

Old Tom: Whoaa! Ain’t she a doll! Hehee! What’s your name, honey bunch?

Eric Pode: Eric Pode of Croydon.

Old Tom: Whoa he heey, he hee—

Old Tom’s Partner: Whoa ha, [doggon ??]!

Old Tom: —ha he hey! Yeah, hey, tell me something, tell me, do men ever kiss you round these parts?

Eric Pode: No, only on the lips.

Old Tom’s Partner: Ha ha!

Old Tom: Yee hee, he hee, woo hoo! Hey say, hey you know your teeth, they remind me of pearls!

Eric Pode: Are hers black as well, then?

Old Tom: Yee hee!

Old Tom’s Partner: Ahh haa! Ah, you sure are a big girl, darling.

Old Tom: Whoo hoo hoo!

Old Tom’s Partner: Haaa! Do you perform in this year’s Saloon?

Eric Pode: Yes.

Old Tom: What d’you do, honey?

Eric Pode: Watch this!

Music: short piece of piano music

Old Tom & Partner: (further whooping and cheering)

Old Tom’s Partner: Proper!

Old Tom: Terrific, yahoo! Well, say what else do you do besides play the piano?

Eric Pode: I, I, I do a striptease.

Old Tom: Yeah, and do you remove everything?

Eric Pode: No, only me clothes.

Old Tom: Woo hoo! Well ain’t she a panic, ain’t she a panic!

Miss Kitty : Come on, boys, drink your beer up, it’s time to go.

Old Tom: Yeah, but but Kitty, I’ve only just been!

Miss Kitty: You heard me, Luke! This town gets too rough after midnight. Why, only last night two masked men hijacked the Walton-on-the-Naze stage and kidnapped old Judge Prondergast. Then they threatened that unless they was paid eighteen thousand dollars in cash, they’d shoot themselves!

Old Tom: Well, I’ll be!

Miss Kitty: And then, this very afternoon, the same men broke into young Lily Langtry’s boudoir, ripped off all her clothes and then forced her to—

Old Tom & Partner: (together) What?

Miss Kitty: To run away for help.

Old Tom: Hey. Hey, you reckon this could be the work of the Thicko Boys?

Miss Kitty: It’s hard to say.

Music: (what is probably) Burt Bacharach music in the background

Old Tom’s Partner: I… t..tell me, who are the Thicko Boys?

Miss Kitty: Just about the most ornery critters in town, that’s all. That’s them over at the gambling table now, playing baccarat!

Music: fades out again

Old Tom’s Partner: Errrrrr, are they dangerous?

Old Tom: Hey, dangerous? Why, they’d put a whoopie cushion on your chair as soon as look at you! Yup. Yes, Sir, folks back in Bridlington-on-Sea was afraid to go out in the streets when they were planting plastic naughty-doggy-effects outside the saloon there last night. Yes, Sir. I do believe they’d even give their own granny a trick fried egg on her breakfast plate for a nickel.

F/X: whoopie cushion (rather resembling a quacking duck)

Saloon Goers: Whoaa!

F/X: more whoopie cushion sounds

Several people: Whoa ! Woohoou!

F/X: whoopie cushion

Old Tom: Ohh, the whoopie cushion’s here! Someone must have got them angry! Let’s get out of here!

F/X: further whoopie cushion sounds

Music: The Magnificent Seven theme resumes, then fades back again

Deputy: That’s Clacton-on-Sea, Essex. Reward: Two hundred and fifty dollars. Okay, you got that, printer? Then the next one’s: Wanted, dead or alive, the Littlehampton Kid. Reward: Five hundred dollars. And finally: Not wanted at all: the Nicholas Parsons Kid, especially alive. Okay?

Printer: (over telephone) Right Deputy, we’ll get all those posters run off for you just as soon as this telephone’s been invented.

F/X: phone handset replaced on cradle

F/X: door handle

Miss Kitty: Deputy, Deputy, it’s the Thicko Boys. They’re on their way here at this very moment; they’ve got to be stopped! Where’s the Sheriff?

Deputy: Ohhh, over there, Miss Kitty.

Miss Kitty: Where?

Deputy: On that chair.

Miss Kitty: Where? I can’t see nothing but a glass of milky looking water, with a silver star pinned to the side.

Deputy: Ahhh, yeah, that is the Sheriff, Miss Kitty. He’s er…, well, he’s a glass of liver salts.

Miss Kitty: A glass of liver salts?

Deputy: Right enough, Miss Kitty.

Miss Kitty: But he, I mean, would he be any good at handling a big bunch of ornery, desperate killers and throwing them in jail?

Deputy: Well, no. But he’d sure come in handy if their tummies was a bit upset.

Miss Kitty: Well, that’s the most ludicrous thing I ever heard.

Deputy: Yeah.

Miss Kitty: How can you expect a refreshing, sparkling anti-acid to maintain law and order in a town like this? I mean, it’s not even as though he’s still fizzing!

F/X: foot steps/hoof beats outside

Deputy: Hold on Miss Kitty, hold on. They’ve arrived. The Thicko Boys. Here they come now, look, with their horses sittin’ on their backs.

Music: piano music in the background

Deputy: There’s, there’s nothing else fight, Sheriff. You’ll have to get out there and deal with them. Here we go, Miss Kitty, hand me the glass.

Miss Kitty: What are you going to do?

Deputy: I’m gonna stand them out in the street. That’ll soon stop those vermins.

F/X: door handle

F/X: foot steps on wooden surface, glass clanking, further rapid foot steps

F/X: door slamming shut

Deputy: There! That’ll show them the Sheriff means business.

F/X: foot steps outside

Deputy: Ohh! Ohh noo!

Miss Kitty: What is it? What’s happening?

Deputy: Don’t, don’t look now, Miss Kitty! They’ve, they’ve just drunk the Sheriff!

Ludovic: (burps)

F/X: glass falling and shattering

Ludovic: Okay Deputy, I’m comin’ out!

Deputy: You mean coming in!

Ludovic: No, me zip’s just gone.

Dominic: Come on, Ludovic. Let’s go in and get ’em.

Ludovic: Right, Dominic.

F/X: foot steps

Music: has turned into some other sort of typical dramatical Western music, fades up into the foreground

Deputy: (over) Well, I guess this is it!

Miss Kitty: No, that’s your gun, Deputy. You’d better get ready to use it, too. They’re coming up the steps right now.

Music: fades into background again

F/X: foot steps

Ludovic: Okay Deputy, if’n you don’t open this door within five seconds, it’ll still be closed.

F/X: door handle

Dominic: Right, Deputy. Mmm. You’ve had this coming.

Ludovic: You tell him.

Dominic: Yeah.

Ludovic: Yeah.

Dominic: I tell him what we’re gonna do.

Ludovic: Right.

Dominic: We’re gonna, we’re gonna stick our tongues out at you.

Ludovic: Yeah.

Miss Kitty: Oh no! Please spare him!

Ludovic: You stay out of this, sonny!

Deputy: You, you wouldn’t dare stick your tongues out at a U.S. Deputy!

Ludovic: Ah ha ha!

Dominic: Ohh, wouldn’t we?

Ludovic: Yeah. Mmm.

Dominic: Let’s let ’em have it.

Ludovic: Right, Dominic.

Dominic: (simultaneously) Right, Ludovic.

Ludovic: Right, here it goes. Mmm.

(pause)

Ludovic: Damn, missed! In that case, we’ve only one alternative!

Dominic: Mmm.

Ludovic: Unless you surrender, it’ll have to be, a smacked botty.

Dominic: Man.

Deputy: I’ll never surrender.

Ludovic: Okay, you asked for this. A smacked botty it is. Ludovic, bend over.

Dominic: Yeah.

F/X: smacking noise

Dominic: Oww!

F/X: smacking noise

Dominic: Oww!

Ludovic: Here, see.

F/X: smacking noise

Dominic: Oww!

Ludovic: Right, eh, have you had enough, Deputy?

Dominic: Uhh!

F/X: further smacking noises

Deputy: Never!

Dominic: Oww!

Music: advertising music resumes

Female Voice-over: Yes, Lowestoft. In tests, eight out of ten owners said their cats preferred it to a tray of dirt. Book up for your stay now and remember, most hotels offer parole after only four weeks! Lowestoft, the holiday of a lifetime, Lowestoft!

Music: stops

F/X: vibraphone glissando

Continuity Announcer: Well, we’re pleased to say that we’ve at last managed to put the tape on correctly, and we’re now ready to proceed with this week’s edition of the Burkiss Way to Dynamic Living.

Female Announcer: This is Radio Four.

Botty Announcer: The BBC regret to announce that the programme which follows contains are rather embarrassing reference to the word ‘botty’. As many people are extremely offended by the word ‘botty’, and just hearing ‘botty’ said on the air causes them great distress, we are taking pains to forewarn all botty-sensitive persons of the botty content in this next show. So, if you’re not a botty man, now’s the time to switch off. If however you’re not particularly mad about botties, but wouldn’t mind hearing the rest of the show excluding the botty reference, please write to the BBC’s Head of Botties, Sir Lionel Pelvic-Girdle, and by return of post, we’ll send you a pair of plastic buttocks which, which you can put over your ears and thus avoid all embarrassment. And now, the Botty Way, oh no, sorry. Sorry! Sorry.

Music: Burkiss Way opening signature tune

Burkiss Way Announcer: (over) Yes, it’s time now to bum around with the Burkiss Way to Dynamic Living. Because this week we look at popular music, and also some records by the Osmonds. Well, with our help you too could make it on the underground scene, simply write off now for your cap and busker’s manual to Jo Kendall, Nigel Rees, Chris Emmett and Fred Harris, and you’ll receive (fades out) free details of lesson eighteen in our amazing series…

Continuity Announcer: And I’m afraid that’s were we have to leave the Burkiss Way for another week, because here is a gale warning warning, issued by the Met Office at nineteen hundred hours, Greenwich Mean Time last year. Radios One and Two, Jimmy Young programme, twelve fifty-seven hours, gale warnings long to very long long. Pete Murray’s Open House, ten thirty, warnings tedious, tiring, boring, monotonous. Force ten. Fred Astaire’s Story, nineteen hundred hours, warnings yawnable (yawns), soporific, sleep-invoking (starts dozing off) to very sleep-in… (starts snoring; after a while, the snoring fades out)

End