Announcer (Chris): This is the BBC Home Service.
Music: a few bars of the ITN News Tune (Non Stop by John Malcom), then down for
Voice-over (Nigel): (over) And now, from Norwich, we invite you to 'Go To The Lavatory'.
F/X: applause
Voice-over: (over) And among the celebrities tonight on 'Go To The Lavatory' are Pope Isobel Barnett ...
F/X: applause
Voice-over: ... transvestite in bracket.
F/X: applause
Voice-over: The right half of Diana Dors.
F/X: applause
Voice-over: The wrong half of Diana Dors.
F/X: applause
Voice-over: And finally, the man who likes watching Melvyn Bragg.
F/X: applause
Voice-over: Nice to have you on the show, Melvyn.
(audience reaction)
Voice-over: And now, here is your host for the evening, the raining Nicholas Parsons, a lump of wet putty from Stoke-on-Trent.
(audience reaction)
Showmaster (Fred): Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. And straight away, can we have our first person tonight please, who wants to 'Go To The Lavatory'!
Music: fanfare and applause, turning into and finishing with a harp glissando
Showmaster: Good evening. Now, your name is Ron Doris of Biggin Hill. Ha, you're out of work because you can't keep your job down, you're on a strict diet because you can't keep your food down, and I understand you have *sixteen* children?
(audience reaction)
Ron Doris (Chris): That's, that's correct yes. Yes yes.
Showmaster: Right, we-ell, well let's get straight on with the show, Ron. You know the rules, don't you?
Ron Doris: Yes, yes yes.
Showmaster: Very well. Ron Doris, Ron Doris of Biggin Hill, will you now please *Go To The Lavatory*!
Music: fanfare
F/X: foot steps, then door handle and door closing again
(pause, audience reaction)
Music: ITN News Tune (Non Stop by John Malcom), then down for
Voice-over: (over) Well, Going To The Lavatory next week will be the Syd Lawrence Orchestra, and Emu. Joseph Cooper playing the dummy Robin Ray, and one of the ten obscure journalists who write the preview page in Radio Times while the other nine take it in turns to read it. So why not join us again then when who knows, it might be your turn to 'Go To The Lavatory'.
Music: out, concluding fanfare
(applause)
Female Announcer (Jo): Mr Denis Healey, an apology.
Announcer: In a recent sketch on the Burkiss Way, we inadvertantly stated that Mr Denis Healey was in fact an overweight yak, whose brain was punctured when he backed into a cactus plant. We have been asked to point out that this is *not* the case and we sincerely apologise for this unfortunate comparison, *and* for any embarrassment it may have caused the yak community of Tibet. Now, PM Reports.
Music: [The PM Reports theme?]
Presenter (Fred?): Hello, and welcome to PM Reports. Well, with me in the studio today I have er, on my right Austin Thrimpson, who works on the Daily Express, and in his spare time cries a lot, [??] Arthur Hackinbottom, known to millions as Jean Rook, and Harold Flark, South-East Australasian quantum mechanics affairs correspondent on the Sunday Times Mephisto Crossword. On my left are Eric Heffer, leader of the militantly er left-wing tweed jacket group, er next to him the leader of the Monday Club, and his nurse (brief pause, audience reaction), and finally, the Leader of the Opposition, the Right Honourable Prime Minister. (audience reaction) Now gentlemen, gentlemen, the question I want to put to you all tonight seems currently to strike at the fundamental core of social order and democracy in this country. And broadly speaking it's this: (singing) Was it Bill or was it Ben, fell into the pond just then? Which of those two flower pot men – was it Bill, or was it Ben? (normal) Er Arthur Hackinbottom, would you like to come in on that one?
Jean Rook (Jo): Erm look, I-I'm, I'm sorry, I-I think there's something wrong here--
Presenter: Er nonsense, er what do you say, Mr Heffer?
F/X: cow mooh-ing emphatically
Jean Rook: It's, it's just that... (audience reaction) ... there's a comedy leak in this studio.
F/X: hissing noise, continues fading up and down in background
Presenter: A comedey leak?
Jean Rook: Yes, can't you smell it?
Producer (Chris?): Oh don't be ridiculous, we can't have a leak in this studio.
Jean Rook: Well why not?
Producer: Well think of the carpet.
(audience reaction)
Presenter: Good god, you're right. There it was again.
Producer: What?
Presenter: I just heard a deadly gag escaping into the room. What should we do?
Jean Rook: We must call for help. What we need is a skilled expert, someone who can render jokes totally inert.
Producer: We'd never get Bernard Manning at this time of night. (audience reaction)
Presenter: Huh.
Producer: Did you hear that? It's getting worse. I'll ring up the BBC maintenance department.
F/X: phone handset lifted off cradle, dialling, ringback tone
F/X: clattering noises, then some electronic warbling sounds on top, finally faintly resembling some sort of ethereal pinball machine
Producer: Is that the BBC maintenance department?
Maintenance Man (Nigel): (over the phone) That's us, pal.
Producer: I want you to come round here immediately.
Maintenance Man: Oh, can't do that, pal. We've got a rush job on, pal. One of the England cricket team's bats. (audience reaction) Come to think of it, the rest of 'em aren't too bright, either.
Producer: Now look, look, you've got to come straight away.
Maintenance Man: Oh sorry, pal. I'm out of the country at the moment.
Producer: There's a cup of tea in it for you.
F/X: door handle
Maintenance Man: (no longer sounding as if on the phone) What's your trouble then, pal?
Producer: We think there's some sort of comedy leak in here, listen.
F/X: hissing noise starts again
Music: Burkiss Way opening signature tune fades up
Burkiss Way Announcer (Nigel): (over) A ha ha ha. Do you have trouble with leaking jokes, do you long for a gag which doesn't slip out in conversation, well if you find one, address it now to Frank Carson's mouth, care of Jo Kendall, Chris Emmett, Nigel Rees and Fred Harris at the Burkiss Way, Stepney. Then by return of post, you'll have your post returned, plus free details of Lesson 21 in our amazing series of correspondence courses, Get Cut Off the Burk--
Music: out
F/X: hissing noise stops, repeated noises of joint being tightened
Jean Rook: Well, what's happend?
Maintenance Man: Oh, you've got a faulty Burkiss Way, pal. You had a humorous wireless programme leaking out and flooding the place with whimsical quips and spoofs of a satirical nature. I've just cut you off.
Producer: Well, what do we put out on the air while we're waiting for you to fix this leak?
Maintenance Man: Well, let's see what I've got.
F/X: clattering noises
Maintenance Man: Oh yes, how about this?
F/X: vibraphone glissandos, like the kind leading into a dream sequence or something like that
Narrator (Fred): (over) Once upon a time, long long ago ago, ...
Music: Oriental-type music starts in the background
Narrator: ... (over) in a land so distant distant, that you couldn't see it until it was in view view, lived a wicked caliph. Each morning at sunrise, he chose a beautiful maiden, had her bathed in pure [??] milk, cleansed in freshly gathered dew from the mountain pastures and sweetened with herbs and spices from the Orient, and took her for his wife. Unfortunately, his wife always sent her back, because she preferred cornflakes, whereupon the caliph would kneel before his youthful bride and declare his eternal and everlasting love for her, until they should be parted by cruelest death. Then, in the evening, he had her killed. This went on, until one day, when the caliph already had fifty-two thousand nine hundred eighty-seven mothers-in-law, who *all* came for suprise visits every Sunday afternoon, he married the beautiful and wise Scheherazade. By the device of telling her husband one thousand and one different stories, one each night, she was able to stay his hand, and yet, she still had to beware, for if she should forget and tell a story the caliph had heard before, she would be in deadly danger.
Music: fading down
Narrator: However, one day he went into a chemist's shop and asked for some talkum powder. 'Certainly', said the assistant, 'will you walk this way?'
F/X: sound of guillotine blade falling
Narrator: 'If I could walk--' Hgh...
(audience reaction)
Caliph (Chris?): Heard it. Alright, Scheherazade my dear, I'm afraid I'm gonna have you painfully put to death tonight a bit.
Scheherazade (Jo): But exalted husband, I've another story to tell you.
Caliph: Arrhh, not another one?!
Scheherazade: Oh yes, mighty one.
Caliph: Good grief, this must be the... (unintelligible rapid counting) ... nine hundred and eighty-sixth story you've told me since we were married. Can't you tell it after I've had you painfully put to death?
Scheherazade: Uhh, no no no, not really, oh wise and strong benefactor.
Caliph: Damn. Oh alright then.
F/X: door handle
Caliph: (shouting) Abdul?
Abdul (Fred?): (responding from the background) [??]
Caliph: (raised voice) It's off again!
Abdul: Why, (unintelligible muttering)!
Caliph: (raised voice) I can't help it, she got another bloody story!
Abdul: (more unintelligible annoyed muttering)
Caliph: (raised voice) Well, you shouldn't have put the oil on the boil, could you? You know it alway runs down, innit?
Abdul: (more unintelligible annoyed muttering)
Caliph: (raised voice) How should I know what to with forty thousand ravenously hungry man-eating black panthers? Stick 'em in the fridge!
Abdul: (more unintelligible annoyed muttering)
Caliph: (raised voice) Of course they'll keep. I got them from a shop we're not allowed to advertise, but has sixteen letters, begins with 'M' and rhymes with 'Spraks & Mencers'! (audience reaction, applause) Anyway, we can always smear her with honey and open a tin of soldier ants if we have to!
F/X: door slam
Caliph: (shouting) Now then! (back to normal) What, oh I'm sorry. Now then, what's this story? Hurry up, I've got to put me slippers in curlers at ten o'clock.
(audience reaction)
Scheherazade: Very good, oh redoubtable paragon of personified joy. Once upon a time...
Music: Arabian Nights-type music starts up again
Scheherazade: (over) ... there was a poor thief of Baghdad. He was however glad of heart one day, when he found on a beach a strange bottle clouded with mystic contents. 'Hmmm', he wondered--
Caliph: Heard it!
Music: out
Scheherazade: What do you mean?
Caliph: Heard it before. Story number one five three, 'The Thief of Baghdad', *he* found a bottle with a genie in it.
Scheherazade: Oh, oh w-w-well, well this one's not about a thief, but but.. a fisherman. A poor fisherman, who found a bottle with strange mystic--
Caliph: Heard it!
Scheherazade: When?
Caliph: Number five four seven, 'The Fisherman of Baghdad', he found one as well, *and* story two three four, 'The Lost Eskimo of Baghdad'. And number four five five, 'The Ticket Inspector of Baghdad', *and* number nine six four, 'The Interior Design Consultant of Baghdad'!
Scheherazade: Well, he didn't find a bottle with a genie in it.
Caliph: No, he found a *lamp* with a genie in it. Then there was number five, 'The Chiropodist of Baghdad', who found a toenail with a genie in it. Number seven six eight, 'The Professional Footballer of Baghdad', who found a tube of Algipan with a genie in it. Number twenty-three, 'The Tony Blackburn of Badgagh' who found--
Scheherazade: Alright then, alright. He didn't find a bottle at all, he-heeehh found something quite different.
Caliph: What?
Scheherazade: Erm, what would you like?
Caliph: A puce and orange elephant's foot umbrella stand.
(short pause)
Scheherazade: A what?
Caliph: A puce and orange elephant's foot umbrella stand.
Scheherazade: (intake of breath) Alright then. I'll start again.
Caliph: Right.
Music: starts up again
Scheherazade: (over) Once upon a time, there was a poor fisherman of Baghdad. He was however glad of heart when one day, on the beach he found... a puce--
Music: stops
Scheherazade: --and orange elephant's foot umbrella stand.
Caliph: Good good.
Scheherazade: And imagine his surprise, when,--
Music: starts again, with some ominous undertones
Scheherazade: --upon holding up this... (hesitates)
Caliph: Puce and orange...
Scheherazade: ... puce and orange--
Caliph: ... elephant's...
Scheherazade: --elephant's foot umbrella stand at the sun's ray, a genie--
Caliph: Heard it!
Scheherazade: Erm... a young girl, whose, whose name was Jeannie. Yes! He saw a beautiful young virgin, as naked as the day she was born--
Caliph: Heard it!
Music: stops
Caliph: Abdul!
Abdul: Oh yes, what do you like?
Caliph: Get the soldier ants ready!
Music: starts again
Scheherazade: Ahhha! I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm sorry, did I say 'virgin', I meant erm... verger. Yes, he saw a beautiful young verger, as naked as the day he was born--
Caliph: Noo, noo! 'The Choir Boy of Baghdad' saw one of those in number three four five.
Scheherazade: Look, can you remember anything you haven't heard a story about yet?
Caliph: Yes, a bookshop.
Scheherazade: A bookshop. (short pause) You sure?
Caliph: Yes.
Scheherazade: Right.
Music: harp glissandi
Scheherazade: (over) Once upon a time there was a bookshop. It was however glad of heart when one day...
Music: out
F/X: door handle, shop bell
Shopkeeper (Nigel): Good morning.
Customer (Fred): Good morning.
Shopkeeper: What can I do for you, Sir?
Customer: Er, I'd like a copy of 'Gay Boys Monthly', please.
Female Announcer: We are unable to proceed any further with this sketch, as it has been stopped by the BBC Programme Content Advisory Not Censorship Honestly Committee. There now follows a completely new and revised version, written by the Head of Crossing Things Out And Writing In Nice Bits.
F/X: door handle, shop bell
Shopkeeper: Good morning.
Customer: Good morning.
Shopkeeper: What can I do for you, Sir?
Customer: I'd like a copy of 'Knitting Monthly', please.
(audience reaction)
Announcer: We interrupt this sketch on the advice of the BBC Extremely Alarmist Panel, to bring you a new and even reviseder version written by a dear little old lady in Catford.
F/X: door handle, shop bell
Customer: Good morning, I'd like a copy of 'Gay Boys Monthly', please.
(audience reaction)
Announcer: I told you it wasn't a little old lady.
Female Announcer: We interrupt these interruptions to apologise for the slightly non-Arabian feel of this last Arabian Nights story. We return you now to a proper one.