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HalfBee's Blog
Topic: He Likes To Press Wildflowers
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fiogf49gjkf0d Picture a world all covered with trees
Leaves on the ground, the buzzing of bees
After they've grown
Need to be sown
The lumberjack comes and cuts all he sees
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Member Comments:
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fiogf49gjkf0d (Meanwhile the second sergeant has a radio-controlled microphone and is singing down it in fine operatic tenor.)
Second Sergeant: (singing) Calling all squad cars in the area...
(Cut to vox pops.)
Lovely Girl: (in deep male voice, dubbed on) I think that's in very bad taste.
Pig: (meows)
Giraffe: (barks)
President Nixon: (superimposed sheep bleating)
Upperclass Twit: Some people do talk in the most extraordinary way.
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fiogf49gjkf0d Second Sergeant: (fast) 121, Halliwell-Road-Dulwich-SE21
Inspector: (squeak) Another Halliwell Road job eh, sergeant?
First Sergeant: (fast) Yes-I-can't-believe-it-I-thought-the-bloke-who'd-done -that-was-put-inside-last-year.
Second Sergeant: (squeak) Yes, in Parkhurst.
First Sergeant: (deep) Well it must have been somebody else.
Inspector: (very deep) Thank you, sergeant. (normal voice to man) We'll get things moving right away, sir. (he picks up phone and dials, at the same time he shrieks in high voice to the tint sergeant) You take over here, sergeant (very deep voice to the second sergeant) Alert all squad cars in the area. (ridiculous sing-song voice into phone) Ha-allo Dar-ling, I'm afra-ID I sh-A-ll BE L-ate H-O-me this evening.
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fiogf49gjkf0d (At that moment, via the miracle of cueing, the detective inspector comes out of his office.)
Inspector: (in very slow deep voice) What's the trouble, sergeant?
Second Sergeant: (speaking at fantastic speed) Well-this-gentleman-sir-has- just-come-in-to-report-that-he-was-sitting-at-home-with-a-friend-when -he -heard -a-noise -in-the-backroom- went-round -to - investigate-and-found-that-£5,000-in-savings-had-been-stolen.
Inspector: (deep voice) I see. (turns to man and addresses him in normal voice) Where do you live sir?
Man: (normal voice) 121, Halliwell Road, Dulwich, SE21
(The detective inspector has been straining to hear but has failed. The second sergeant comes in helpfully)
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fiogf49gjkf0d (He leaves counter- first Sergeant Foster comes forward with a helpful smile)
Man: (continues in high-pitched shriek) I was sitting at home with a friend of mine.
Second Sergeant: Excuse me sir, but why the funny voice?
Man: (normal voice) Oh, terribly sorry. I'd just got used to talking like that to the other sergeant.
Second Sergeant: I'm terribly sorry... I can't hear you, sir, could you try speaking in a lower register?
Man: What!? Oh...(in a very deep voice) I wish to report the loss of £5,000.
Second Sergeant: £5,000? That's serious. You'd better speak to the detective inspector.
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fiogf49gjkf0d (Another sergeant enters and goes round to back of counter.)
Second Sergeant: (in high-pitched voice) Hello, sarge!
First Sergeant: (in very deep voice) Evening Charlie.
(The second sergeant is taking his coat off, and the first one begins to pack up his papers. The man carries on with his tale of woe, but still in a high-pitched shriek.)
Man: I was sitting at home with a friend of mine from Camber Sands, when we heard a noise in the bedroom. We went to investigate and found £5,000 stolen.
First Sergeant: WeB, I'm afraid I'm going off duty now sir. Er, could you tell
First Sergeant: Foster ....
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fiogf49gjkf0d First Sergeant: No... I'm still not getting anything... Er, could you try it in a higher register?
Man: What do you mean in a higher register?
First Sergeant: What?
Man: (in a high-pitched voice) I wish to report a burglary.
First Sergeant: Ah! That's it, hang on a moment. (gets out pencil and paper) Now a little bit louder.
Man: (louder and more high pitched) I wish to report a burglary.
First Sergeant: Report a what?
Man: (by now a ridiculously high-pitched squeak) Burglary!
First Sergeant: That's the exact frequency... now keep it there.
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fiogf49gjkf0d (Sketch opens in a police station.)
First Sergeant: (behind station counter into camera) Goodnight.
(Camera pulls back to show a man standing in front of the counter.)
Man: Good evening, I wish to report a burglary.
First Sergeant: Speak up please, sir.
Man: I wish to report a burglary.
First Sergeant: I can't hear you, sir.
Man: (bellowing) I wish to report a burglary!
First Sergeant: That's a little bit too loud. Can you say it just a little less loud than that?
Man: (a little louder than normal) I wish to report a burglary.
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fiogf49gjkf0d Audrey: Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, oooooh! I've wet 'em
Mr. Cook: The goat's just done a bundle.
(The Fred Tomlinson Singers run on, dressed as Welsh miners. All talk at once)
Victor: Look, get out all of you. Go on. Get out!
Brian: I beg your pardon?
Victor: I'm turning you all out. I'm not having my house filled with filthy perverts. Now look, I'm giving you just all a minute then I'm going to call the police, so get out.
Brian: I don't much like the tone of your voice. (shoots him) Right; let's have a ding dong...
All: (singing) Ding dong merrily on high, in Heaven the bells are ringing etc...
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fiogf49gjkf0d (In walks Mr Cook with a goat. Freight kisses him.)
Mr Cook: I had to bring the goat, he's not well. I only hope he don't go on the carpet.
Brian: (to Iris) Come on then love, drop 'em.
Iris: Aaaaaaagh! (runs out)
Brian: Blimey, she don't go much do she.
(He sits in chair which collapses.)
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fiogf49gjkf0d (In walks Mr. Freight [Terry Gilliam] in underpants, sequins, eye make-up, white wellies and necklace)
Mr Freight: Oh? My God, what a simply ghastly place.
Brian: Not too good is it? A pint of crème de menthe for my friend. Well how are you, you great poof? (sits down) Bit lumpy ...ah, no wonder, I was sitting on the cat. (throws it into fire)
Iris: Aaaagh! Boo boo hooo.
Mr Freight: I've asked along a simply gorgeous little man I picked up outside the Odeon.
Brian: Is he sexy?
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fiogf49gjkf0d Audrey: (joins in) Ha, ha, ha, ha...
Brian: It was rather witty, wasn't it? Where's my gin?
(The doorbell goes.)
Victor: Who the hell's that?
Brian: Oh, I took the liberty of inviting an old friend along, as his wife has just passed away, and he's somewhat distraught poor chap. I hope you don't mind.
Arthur: (opening door) Come on in.
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fiogf49gjkf0d Victor: Now look here ...
Brian: Big gin please.
Arthur: I'll get it.
Victor: (going after Arthur) Look, leave those drinks alone.
Audrey: And three tins of beans for me please.
Brian: I told you to lay off the beans, you whore!
Audrey: I only want three cans!
Brian: Button your lip you rat-bag! (laughs uproariously)
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fiogf49gjkf0d Audrey: Hello, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...
Victor: There must have been some kind of misunderstanding, because this is not the...
Brian: Who's that then?
Victor: What?
Brian: Who's the bird?
Victor: I'm...
Brian: You got a nice pair there haven't you love.(puts hand on Iris's boobs and gives a wet kiss; Iris screams) Shut up you silly bitch, it was only a bit of fun.
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fiogf49gjkf0d Victor: Who the hell...
Arthur: I'll get it. It'll be friends of mine. I took the liberty of inviting them along.
Victor: Look, we were hoping to have a quiet evening on our own.
Arthur: Oh, they won't mind. They're very broad-minded. Hello!
(He opens the door; Mr. and Mrs. Equator [John Cleese & Terry Jones] walk in and go straight up to Victor)
Brian: Good evening. My name is Equator, Brian Equator. Like round the middle of the Earth, only with an L. (wheezing laugh) This is my wife Audrey; she smells a bit but she has a heart of gold.
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fiogf49gjkf0d Victor: Look, look, we put that on.
Arthur: Here's a good one, I heard it in a pub. What's brown, what's brown and sounds like a bell?
Victor: I beg your pardon?
Arthur: What's brown and sounds like a bell? Dung! Ha, ha, ha, that's a good one. I like that one, I won't keep you long. (the gramophone plays the 'Washington Post March' very loud) That's better, now don't worry about me. I'll wait here till you've finished.
(The doorbell goes again.)
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fiogf49gjkf0d Arthur: (to Victor) Is that your wife?
Victor: Er, no, actually.
Arthur: Oh, I get the picture. Eh? Well, don't worry about me, Vicky boy. I know all about one-night stands.
Victor: I beg your pardon?
Arthur: Mind if I change the record? (takes the record off)
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fiogf49gjkf0d Victor: No, I don't I'm afraid.
Arthur: Oh, blimey, it's dark in here, (switches light on) that's better. Only you said we must have a drink together sometime, so I thought I'd take you up on it as the film society meeting was cancelled this evening.
Victor: Look, to be frank, it is a little awkward this evening.
Arthur: (stepping in; to Iris) Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I Vicky boy?
Victor: Really...
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fiogf49gjkf0d Victor: Oh Iris. (they move closer to kiss; just before their lips meet the doorbell goes) Who can that be?
Iris: Oh, well you try and get rid of them.
Victor: Yes I will, I will.
(Victor opens the front door. Arthur Name [Eric Idle] is standing outside the door)
Arthur: Hello!
Victor: Hello.
Arthur: Remember me?
Victor: No, I'm...
Arthur: In the pub. The tall thin one with the moustache, remember? About three years ago?
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fiogf49gjkf0d Victor: Oh Iris, you're so very beautiful.
Iris: Oh, do you really mean that?
Victor: I do, I do, I do. I think... I'm beginning to fall in love with you.
Iris: Oh Victor.
Victor: It's silly isn't it?
Iris: No, no, not at all dear sweet Victor.
Victor: No I didn't mean that. Only just us being so close together for so many months in the soft-toy department and yet never daring to...
Iris: Oh, oh Victor.
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fiogf49gjkf0d (Scene opens to a sitting room. Low sexy lighting - ha ha - soft sexy music. On the sofa are Victor and Iris just beginning to make passes at each other.)
Victor: Would you mind terribly if I hold your hand?
Iris: Oh no, no, not at all.
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fiogf49gjkf0d (A large country house. A number of sportin' gentlemen dressed in huntin' tweed and carrying shotguns come out, casually firing the guns at random. They climb into a land-rover and drive off. Cut to huntin' country. A line of beaters moves towards the camera; as they do so several young couples leap up out of the undergrowth and run away. Shots of hunters stalking their prey and shooting. One of them breaks his gun into two pieces. Another fires into the air. An egg lands on his head. Cut to two duellists (with pistols) and a referee standing between them. They fire; the referee falls dead. A huntin'gentleman fires into the air, falls over backwards; a young couple get up from close behind him and run away. Another huntin' gentleman is arguing defensively with a pilot who has just landed by parachute. A hunter fires into some bushes; a Red Indian pops up and runs away in alarm. They all return to the house, legs and arms variously in plaster or bandaged. Two of them carry a pole between them from which is slung a very small bird. The picture of the outside of the house freezes and we pull back to reveal that it is a photo on a stand, by which stands the knight in armour, expectantly flexing his raw chicken. The floor manager comes up to him.)
Floor Manager: I'm sorry, we don't need you this week.
(Knight looks dejected, droops and slinks off, still holding chicken. He walks past a hen house from wherein we hear a voice.)
Voice: And now for something completely different.
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fiogf49gjkf0d Barber: So anyway, I became a barber.
Customer: (sympathetically) Poor chap.
Barber: Yes, pity really, I always preferred the outdoor life. Hunting, shooting, fishing. Getting out there with a gun, slaughtering a few of God's creatures - that was the life. Charging about the moorland, blasting their heads off...
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fiogf49gjkf0d Voice Off: He can't come!
Compare: Never mind, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Ladies and gentlemen, we give you Ken Buddha and his inflatable knees.
(Cut to Ken in evening dress; his knees go 'bang'.)
Compare: Ken Buddha, a smile, two bangs and a religion. Now ladies and gentlemen, for your further entertainment, Brian Islam and Brucie.
(Two animated men dance to jug band music When they finish we cut back to the barber and customer, from the Homicidal Barber Sketch)
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fiogf49gjkf0d Compare: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the refreshment room here at Bletchley. (applause) My name is Kenny Lust and I'm your compere for tonight. You know, once in a while it is my pleasure and my privilege, to welcome here at the refreshment room, some of the truly great international artists of our time. (applause) And tonight we have one such artist. (grovelling) Ladies and gentlemen, someone whom I've always personally admired, perhaps more deeply, more strongly, more abjectly than ever before. (applause) A man, well more than a man, a god (applause), a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. (by now on his knees) Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth than dare tread on the same stage with him. Ladies and gentlemen...the incomparably superior human being, Harry Fink!
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fiogf49gjkf0d (Cut back to Canadian backdrop. In fiont, a man with a knotted handkerchief on his heed, a woolly pullover, and braces. Superimposed caption on the screen ' PROF. R. J. GUMBY')
Gumby: Well I think TV's killed real entertainment. In the old days we used to make our own fun. At Christmas parties I used to strike myself on the bead repeatedly with blunt instruments while crooning. (sings) 'Only make believe, I love you, (hits himself on head with bricks) Only make believe that you love me, (hits himself) Others find peace of mind...'
(Cut to a swish nightclub. Compare enters.)
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fiogf49gjkf0d I could use a lumberjack, transvestite or not for my yard. It isn't bad enough the filler neck for my car's gas tank is rotted and the dealership says they don't make them anymore so I can't fill up the tank more than halfway without the gas disappearing but the damn tree next to my driveway is now too damn big and insists on dumping 'tree boogers' all over it at this time of year when it blooms. For a month, I'm knocking tree boogers off the car 'cause it looks like it has chicken pox if I don't.
When the lumberjack got done, he could have buttered scones & tea. If he wanted high heels, then I think I saw an asphalt aardvark wearing some. It's spring; my lawn 'varks have thawed out and are off doing Satan knows what.
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