From: gadwe@voyager.co.nz (Lachy Darby)
Subject: Request for a couple of scripts
Date: 1997/01/09
Message-ID: <32d5c9b0.57857329@news.voyager.co.nz>
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organization: OzEmail Ltd - Australia
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reply-to: gadwe@voyager.co.nz
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	GOON SHOW 
	
	'World War One'
	8th Series, 22nd Show
	broadcast Monday, 24-02-1958

	transcribed by flesh
	from 'Goon Show Classics 4',1989 Polygram Records

	Marco Nadal
	m.nadal@student.qut.edu.au



Announcer: 	This is the BBC.
		
		[singing] But they call it Eiirreeelaaand.

Sellers(?):	[quietly] Eiirelaand.

	I don't like what he's doing Pat, I don't like it.

	We'll have a meeting about-

FX:	SHEEP

Secombe:	Whilst that record of sheep is being played, here are
the remains of a Goon Show washed up on a Brighton beach near Croyden.

Milligan: [older than god]	Yes, oh yes, and in faded writing, we
see that the title is: [feeble, aphyxiating] 
[normal] , Part One.

MUSIC:	MILITARY THEME

Sellers: 1917 England was at war.

Frenchie(Sellers?): France was at war.

Eccles: I was at lunch! Ha Ha Ha !

Sellers: 1917 and here's an impression of it:

FX:	SOUNDS OF BATTLE. EXPLOSIONS.

	BUGLE SOUNDING OUT. BUGLE PITIFULLY FADES OUT.

Frenchie: Madre Dei! The retreat.

FX:	CRIES OF ANGUISH. CROWD RUNNING AWAY.

Sellers: 1917. British Chiefs of Staff call meeting.

FX:	SALOON. GLASSES CLANGING, PIANO MUSIC, CUTLERY ETC.

Sellers: Yea, alright, that's enough, that's enough. After all, enough

is as good as a feast. I'll...

Secombe: [background] I haven't had enough.

Sellers: Yes, hm.

Secombe: I haven't had enough.

Sell: [laconic] Oh, haven't you.

Sec:	No.

Sell: Well then, swallow this obstacle.

Sec: *gulp* *ARGH* Oh ho, delicious. What was it?

Sel:	It was enough.

Sec: I don't feel as if I had enough. 

Sel: Well it was enough! It was marked on the tin A-N-U-F-F. Nitwit,
four ounces. So you have just eaten a four ounce NUFF.

Sec: Well, I'm afraid I haven't had enough nuff.

Sel: [fed up] Well, *I* had enough. Say Ahhhhh...

Sec: Aaaah...

FX: GUN SHOT.

Sec: ...argh! I'm dying. At last I've had enough.

MUSIC: Corny musical chord.

Mil: End of part one. And now [mumble][mumble][mumble]
part two.

Sel: I called you heads of services together to break the news.
It appears that for the past 3 years, we've been at war. W-A-R.
Pronounced...

FX: WAR NOISES AS BEFORE. BUGLE SOUNDING THE ATTACK.

C.O.: I say, it sounds jolly dangerous.

Sec: Who are we at war with?

Sel: That's what I keep asking myself. If only we knew, we could tell
a
policeman. We must try to capture one of this naughty type enemies and
try to find the nationality of his body.

Sec: Right. I'll go down to the labour exchange to get a body tester.
End
of
part two, Suh!

MUSIC: CHORD.

Mil: And now.[mumble][mumble][mumble] part three.

Announcer: The lounge of the East Eighton labour exchange.

Sec: Oh, I'll have you know I'm the manager of this labour exchange.

Bentine: [old coot] Pardon me manager. [strained] any fear of work
today?

Sec: Oooohh... yer gettin ten loud broken limbs kidd-ough (Welsh)

Ben: It's only...you gotta be careful these days there's a lot of work
about
matey. I gotta be careful, only 4 more days and I celebrate my 50
years
without
work.

Sec: 50 years unemployed...nyuk, nyuk. Good heavens... fill in this
form
for
your O.B.E.

FX: BELLS

Ben: Aghh. Oghh. Listen -- there goes the-danger-of-work bell!

Sec: Quick! Barricade the door!

FX: CLANGING, CHAINS, PUSHING CLOSED DOOR ETC.

Grytpype-Thynne: Give me the binoculars, Moriarty.

M: What can you see?

G-T: Nothing.

M: But which direction is it going in?

FX: KNOCK ON DOOR. OPENS.

G-T: What do you want, knocker?

Sec: I'm with the war office. Gentlemen, I think you should know that
we're at
war.

G-T: Oh; Was it something we've said?

Sec: Heavens no. We look for a decent chap to go and try to capture
one of
the
enemy -- in-tact.

M: Ahhh. What's it worth?

Sec: Well, for the chap that is successful, there will be a nice
nest-egg
waiting for him.

M: Ahhh. How much in money.

Sec: No money. I told you, you get an egg with a nest in it.

M: I should risk my life for an egg in a nest?!

Sec: Chickens do it all the time.

M: Then send a chicken.

Sec: Gad, what a brilliant idea. Chicken squad, quick, march.

FX: SOUND OF MARCHING & CHICKEN NOISES.

Announcer: Meantime, here is a jolly dutchman who'll obliterate
himself
with
porridge, Max Felderay.

MUSIC: MAX GELDRAY INTERLUDE.

MUSIC: CLASSIC WAR SCENE INTRO.

Mil: And now on the faded document I see: , Part four.

Announcer: In which, Grytpype and Moriarty leave the exchange and seek
out
their
fortune:

FX: HARSH, COLD WIND.

M: Augh. Auuugh. Ohhh-hoohaugh. We must find somewhere to sleep
tonight.

G-T: Yes. Look, there's a cottage 800 miles away.

M: I'll knock.

FX: KNOCKING. DOOR OPENS.

Sec: [surprise] Ahhhh-hhha. Two men, 800 miles away. Welcome to the
manor.
It's
only a luxury 15-mill pound villa, but it's home to me. What's mine is
yours --
let's be jolly friends forever!

G-T & Sec [both laugh]

G-T: Is your name, Charlie?

Sec: No. Why?

G-T: Welll...you look like one.

Sec: No, no. My name's Neddie Seagoon folks!

FX: RECORDED APPLAUSE.

Ned: Stop! 

M: What a nice little place we have here ehh... what a niiize leeettle
place.
What a nice little room and a nice little floor. Nice, everybody's
nice. I
like
this.

Ned: It is a nice little place, isn't it. It belongs to Lord Delfuss.

M: [mimic] Lord Delfuss.

Sec: Yes. I'll be looking after it for him while he's gone away.

G-T: Will he be gone long?

Ned: Quite a while I should say. They buried him this morning.

G-T: What was the trouble?

Ned: Well, he'd been lying on his back for two days.

G-T: That doesn't mean a man's dead.

Ned: Huh-huh, this time it did. [well-timed pause] He was at the
bottom of
a
lake.

G-T: Uh!

M:  Aughh.... poor man.

G-T: Well Neddie, I'm going to be frank.

Ned: Then I'll be Tom.

M: I'll be Gladys.

FX: SLAP

G-T: Neddie, how would you like to buy these duff shares in the german
army?

Ned: Are they worth anything?

G-T: Of course. You know, I have certain information that I just
thought
of, the
Germans are bound to win any war they enter.

Ned: What a chance! Wait here, I'll get my savings out of a P.O.

G-T: This, I must see.

Ned: It's all in pennies!

G-T: Well we don't mind spending pennies. Moriarty, count them!

M: [slowly getting sped up, Chipmunk-like] 1, 2, 3, 4 .......

FX: CHIPMUNK GETTING SHOT

M: [normal] Fifty pounds!

FX: CASH REGISTER CA-CHINK.

G-T: Thank you Ned. And now a sailor's farewell.

FX: FOGHORN [SPEEDING UP] 
    UNPLUG NOISE

Ned: And so saying, the two nice men threw me out of the house.		

FX: SPLASH

Ned: [indignant] Who left that splash outside?!

Bentine: Hey, your name Neddie Seagoon.

Ned: Ah, a river policeman standing in a river.

Ben: Yeh, I'm on duty. I'm delivering your call-up-papers.

Ned: That's a mistake. I wanted the Times.

Ben: No suh, no messing about, there's a war on, W-A-R, pronounced

FX: SILLY VOICE "WARRRRR!"

Ben: Your country needs you, Y-O-U, pronounced

FX: DIFF. SILLY VOICE "YOUUUU!"

Ben: Now then, try this here cannon on for size.

Ned: [struggling] Eaugh, Yeagh, Ughh. I say, this barrel is empty

Ben: It must have been robbed [?], haugh haugh [strange guffaw]

Ned: Helllo.

Eccles: [echo] Helllo.

Ned: Ah an echo.

Ecc: Ah an echo.

Ned: Mimimimimimi!

Ecc: Mimimimimimi!

Ned: hallelu!

Ecc: hallelu!

Ned: I'm an idiot.

Ecc: You certainly are...

Ned: What whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat...

Eccles: What whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwtwt-cluck-cockle-co-cooo...

Ben: Private Seagoon, I'm sending you to Aldershot. Follow this shell.

FX: *BOOM* LONG WHAIL OF SHELL & SEAGOON IN HIGH ALTITUDE

MUSIC: BRASSY INTERMISSION JINGLE

FX: SCRIBBLING [HENRY CRUN]

Crun:	Drawers, cellular, one.

	Shirts, angora, two.

	Tins, mess, one.

        Socks, twisted grey, two pairs.

	Guns, bang, one.

FX: WINDOWS SMASH. BODY FALLING ON FLOOR.

Ned:	Aggghhhhaah-oohagh-aughh!

Crun:	Augh-oagh! Min, a man's just come in through the roof.

Min:	Oh dear, the place is in such a mess today, tch.

Crun:   Min!

Ned: 	Aughhh.

Crun:	Here he is.

Min:	Oohh. What- poor fellow. What's your name, young man?

Ned:	Ohhh-Yaqqua-aow...

Min: 	It's Mr. Ohhh-Yaqqua-aow...

Crun:   Good morning...

	[A good round of ad-libbed "good mornings" from all...]

Ned: 	Please, I'm Private Seagoon, I've been sent here for my
uniform.

	You see, England's at war.

Min: 	War? I better go and get the washing in.

Crun:   We haven't a uniform big enough for you here --- but go to
this
	address.

Ned: 	The elephant equipment unit? Poona, India. Right. Farewell!
	[sings over bootsteps, speeding up] On the road to Mendeley,
where
the flying
	fishes play, ..... [faster, fade]

Announcer:	In anticipation of his arrival, the BBC have placed a
		microphone at his destination. So, over to that.

MUSIC: BLOODNOK THEME

FX: GUN SHELLS. EXPLOSIONS. WATER SPLASHING.

Bloodnok: Ohh...Arggh...Aogh [etc]

FX: FLIES. DONKEY. PAPER RIP. BANG. [etc]

B: Oahhh, ogh, aahhoa! Oh dear, oh dear, dear. Seargent, take him out
and
shoot him.

Sarge: Oh no sir. I'm not going near dem socks. Last time they damn
near
overpowered
me sir.

FX: PUPPIES WHIMPERING

B: You see what you have done. You've offended them. Down, boy, down.
Do
you
realize, sir, that these sock were mentioned in the dispatches?

Sarge: Alright, socks, 'tshun, quick, march! [FX:boots squeaking]
Left-right,
left-right, left-right. [fade into distance]

B: Gawd, what a magnificient sight -- a squad of british army socks on
the
march.

FX: REPEATED KNOCKS ON DOOR CLICKER, OVER ANGRY DUCK NOISES

B: Uhhh. Somebody knocking on the door with a duck.

FX: DOOR OPEN

B: [surprise] Oooah-ho!

Eccles: Hel-lo my dah-ling.

B: Eccles! What do you want?

E: I lah-ve you my dah-ling. My love.

B: Steady madam, steady madam!

E: My lit-tle dah-ling. I want you to have these. I pick'd them
myself.

B: A handful of hair! How sweet. Singhes, [S: Pardon?] put these in a
jar
of hair oil.
Come inside. You silly fellow. You military fool. Come inside.

E: Ahhhg. It's the spring you know. [aside] It's the spring, folks. I
want
some
old-fashioned loving.

B: Ohh, right. Granny!

E: Noooo.

B: Come down!

FX: DOOR HANDLE. DOOR OPEN. RATTLING MACHINERY. STEAM 

B: Ooaogh! A puff-puff train.

Ned: Ahhh. How nice of you to meet me at the station major.

B: Well, it was the least I could do -- a quantity I specialize in.
Well
now,
where were we?

Ned: How's the war going major?

B: Well, the Germans are losing.

Ned: OOoooh! Horrors! Folks, folks. Then these shares are losing their
value
     folks. Awh-awh-awh, folks.

B: Don't worry Neddy folks. Look, here's a special offer. 10,000
unused
1904
   calendars.

Ned: 1904? That's gone!

B: Ha-aha, but it ever comes back, you'll make a fortune.

Ned: You loony military man, how can it come back!

B: Great lauding naglers! Look, Monday comes back once a week,
December
comes
   back once a year.

Ned: Well?

B: Well, 1904 will come back, it just takes longer, that's all.

Ned: It's a deal.

B: H-arghh.

Ned: Here's an advance of one shilling, and Ray Ellington quartet.

B: Splin.

Ned: Splon.

MUSIC: RAY ELLINGTON. "MY BABY'S IN SPACE" (Real title?)

FX: DISTANT WAR NOISES.

Wal: On the western front, Seagoon prayed for the Germans to win.

B: I say, Colonel. There's something dash strange about that Private
Seagoon.

Colonel: [hesistant, stuttering] Ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh yea?

B: Yea. During that last German attack, all he did was point his
finger at
them
   and shout: "Bang, you're dead"

Col: Ahhh-ohhh-errr-ahhh-ahhh Perhaps he has run out of ammunition.

B: No, he hasn't. I inspected his finger, and it was fully loaded.

Col: Is this true, Seagoon?

Ned: [nervous] Ha. I-- er --heheh -- it was like this --- I er eheh.

Col: I give you ten seconds to answer the question!

MUSIC: "MASTERMIND" COUNTDOWN

Ned: I'm sorry, I-- [close to tears] I can't answer.

Host: [swarmy] Well hard luck. Anyway you win yourself a wonderful
dishonourble
      discharge from the army, so let's give him a great big hand!

FX: APPLAUSE.

MUSIC: CONGRATULATION CHORD

Ned: And so I volunteered to become a civilian.

M: Ah, young Neddy, ahhahahah.

Ned: You! Y-O-U, pronounced:

FX: SILLY VOICE, SPED UP: "YOUUU!"

Ned: About all those duff german army shares. Germany lost the war.

M: Ohhohoho!

G-T: Neddy, if you lent us those 1904 calendars, all will be well!
     Now, what I want to do about this...[fade out]

Ned: [over fade G-T] His idea was to drop the 1904 calendars on
England by
     Zeppelin, making the English believe the war hadn't even started.
     Giving Germany the advantage. ha-ha-hahaha. nyuk, nyuk. [silly]
     "Giving Germany the advantage"
     
Wal: Meanwhile, midnight on a lonely anti-aircraft site in Epping
forest.

FX: CRICKETS.

Bluebottle: [waking] Ohh-ohp! What is that noise out there?

FX: GRUNTING. FARTS.

BB: Advance, Major Bloodnok, and be recognized!

Jim: Hello, Jim. [sings] helllooooo Jeeeehm, hello jimmm.

BB: Hello Jim. Helloooo Jeeehm. Name the password.

Jim: I don't know Jim. [sings] Don't know the password Jeeehhmmm.

BB: Captain, captain, help!

Captain (Secombe) : Haa-haa, what is it? [carries, on, chuckling
uncontrollably]

BB: This man doesn't know the passing-word.

Captain: Hawhawhaw neither do I. Haahahah! [more chuckling]

Jim: What are you laughing at Jim? [3 times]

Captain: What's he lauging at... heheehee... Oh dear...

BB: I told him not to wear them wolly underpants.

Captain: Wolly underpants, wolly underpants. hahhaha [hysterical] I
never
thought
         of that.

FX: SPLASH [5 TIMES]

BB: Say it!

Little Jim: He's fallen in the water.

BB: Little Jim, little Jim.

Little Jim: Dah-dah-dah. [mumble babyishly]

BB: [in delight] hihihi-- Suddenly sees studio audience. Hello
everybody.

FX: APPLAUSE

BB: Thank you clappers, thank you. For my first song, I'll sing "The
Rockaround"

MUSIC: ROCK'N ROLL

BB: You gotta rock, an' roll, you gotta rock all day, you gotta rock
around, that's
    what I say. [FX: FALLING OBJECT] And you- [FX: KLONG] Owww! You
nutted
me!
    I been nutted on my nut, nut, nut. Lumps on my nutted nut. Aoogh!

FX: APPLAUSE

BB: You twits, I wasn't singing, I was in agony.
    I was hit on the head by this.

Jim: But Jim, it's a 1904 calendar.

BB: Ohhh. If it's 1904 I better get back home to mom.

Jim: What for?

BB: I haven't been born yet!

Jim: Ooohhh, Jeeehhhm!

BB: Cor, my dad, we aren't covered for this.

MUSIC: MILITARY INTERLUDE

Wal: Here's a special news bulletin. British troops will come home
from
France
     at once.

Ned: Hooray folks. They think it's 1904. The plan worked. My German
army
shares
     will be worth a fortune.

B: Wrong.

Ned: [deflated] What?

B: The British dropped 1918 calendars on Berlin, and the Germans
su-rendered.

Ned: Ohhh-hooo-hoo. Yea. Sounds up the end, doesn't it Wal.

Wal: Perfectly correct Mr. Seagoon. Good night.

Ned: Good night Wal.

Ned: [running rapidly into distance] I can hear your socks Moriarty, I
know you're there!


MUSIC: FAMOUS VICTORY THEME. PLAYOUT.