Goon Show Script

Pam's Paper Insurance Policy

Series 9, Episode 4


This episode is available on...
Goon Show Compendium 10

[CD Box Set from Amazon]

Vol. 24: The Case of the Missing Heir

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[Download from Audible]


GREENSLADE: This is the BBC Home Service. Fraternising with the Light Programme natives is forbidden. [Wal recorded a separate announcement for use with the Light Programme repeat:" This is the BBC Light Programme. Fraternising with the Home Service natives is forbidden.]

MORIARTY: (off) Owww!

SECOMBE: Oh yes?

MILLIGAN: (off) I told you we'd be at the . . .

SECOMBE: I seen you tip-toein' into the typist's pool after dark.

MILLIGAN: (off) Well done

GREENSLADE: That was only for a moonlight swim, sir.

SECOMBE: A moonlight swim in your pyjamas? I don't believe my ear trumpets.

GREENSLADE: All lies my dear listeners. I wore not the pyjamas. I wore bathing drawers of the briefest grisp.

MILLIGAN: Ah, ha ha har.

GREENSLADE: And ladies have remarked on my noble proportions.

SECOMBE: I bet they have mate. Ha ha. Now just take a gander at this sequel to the hula-hoop.

GREENSLADE: Now lets see.

SECOMBE: (off) Huula- Hooop

GREENSLADE: Be you own father: A new genetic game. I say, I say the ladies won't subscribe to this idea.

SECOMBE: Fear of unemployment aay? Don't worry ladies it's only a game you know. Only a game. Ha ho ho ho.

SPRIGGS: (off) You had them worried, Jim.

SECOMBE: Yes another Merry Christmas game. The complete home neck breaking kit. Watch. Hup!

FX: Thud. Neck breaking.

GRAMS: Cheers.

SELLERS: Yes folks you can hear how popular a broken neck can be, just one downward stroke of a sledgehammer and wow, hear your friends laugh. And now a word from our sponsor.

SECOMBE: Blood-orange.

SELLERS: Next week another word.

MILLIGAN: (off) I told you we wouldn't get ...

SELLERS: Forward Nurgler Seagoon.

SECOMBE: aahh

SELLERS: eeee

SECOMBE: tie

SELLERS: toe

SECOMBE & SELLERS: Tuuu

MILLIGAN: All together now please:

Omnes: Tuuuuu

MILLIGAN: What it is to have friends. (pause) Or I thought I did anyhow. Now folks here is mister Greenslade to make an omni-directional announcement, from the waist upwards.

SECOMBE: Go on there now Wal, give us the old posh wireless talking there Wal.

SELLERS: Go on Wal spit da words out, Wal go on.

MILLIGAN: Right dere.

GREENSLADE: Ladies and gentlemen

SELLERS: Cor, 'ark at dat dere

SECOMBE: Yeah, class.

GREENSLADE: Stop. Oi, oi.

SECOMBE: Real class

GREENSLADE: Quiet.

SECOMBE: Real class.

GREENSLADE: Quiet.

SECOMBE: Take your glasses off Wal

GREENSLADE: Look,

MILLIGAN: Get up dere.

GREENSLADE: Because I talk proper like, nark all the old chatter there please.

GREENSLADE: Ladies and gentlemen, the scene is a pair of trembling knees in the Maldives. From their shelter two criminals royal are partaking of a frugal meal.

FX: Knives and forks on plates. (under scene)

GRYTPYPE: hmmmm hmmm

MORIARTY: Another plate of frugals

GRYTPYPE: Thank you, no Moriarty. But a little more newspaper stew ~~~

MORIARTY: You shall have it sir. ha ha how (singing to himself)

GRYTPYPE: We've never had it so good count

MORIARTY: We've never had it so good buddy

GRYTPYPE: My dear pince-nez. Tell me, pince-nez ...

MORIARTY: Owww?

GRYTPYPE: Where did you learn this foul but economical recipe?

MORIARTY: It's a family secret!

GRYTPYPE: Why?

MORIARTY: They died after the first mouthful.

GRYTPYPE: Oh!

MORIARTY: And so did that joke. It was terrible ... I had to do all the washing up myself.

GRYTPYPE: There is a possible plot for this weeks show.

MORIARTY: Ah, let me get out of the way.

GRYTPYPE: Good. Do listen carefully my dear listeners, on your attention of it depends your enjoyment. The editor of "Pam's Paper" will pay one thousand leather pounds to the next of kin of any person who is drowned in water, provided a copy of Pam's Paper is found on the deceased body. You're wearing a deceased body aren't you Moriarty?

MORIARTY: No, no it still has power in it. Listen to these knees:

FX: Castanets.

MORIARTY: Owww.

GRYTPYPE: That is power my dear pince-nez. Never mind about that, run out and buy a copy of Pam's Paper and we'll find a Charlie to drown, Moriarty. Ha ha ho.

MORIARTY: Hu hu ho.

GREENSLADE: Meantime, on-board one of Her Majesty's gas stoves in a Sussex wood, a bundle of Welsh rags suddenly become animate.

FX: Hammering on anvil

SEAGOON: (sings) We'll keep a welcome in the dustbins ~~~ ~~~. Ah hu (???). (normal) Ah, that's got me old legs straightened out. Ah now folks, what a perfect winters day. A blanket of white snow, what a pity it's July. Ha ha. Still (???)!

FX: Something scraping, bottles dropping (repeats)

SEAGOON: Willium! What are you doing there in that bush?.

WILLIUM: Shaving mate. I had a sudden attack of 'airs.

SEAGOON: Well hurry up, there's other people waiting.

WILLIUM: I thought you was trying to cut down on bushes mate.

SEAGOON: Idle gossip I tell you, idle gossip:

FX: Loan bird whistling/calling under:

SEAGOON: Listen! An English bird in full throated cry. Oh a part of England's treasured heritage. Where is the dear bird? Ahhh, I see him.

FX: Gunshot.

GRAMS: Wha, waa, (then sped up)

SEAGOON: Ha ha, ha ha. Got him. Right in the primaries.

ECCLES: You fool! Look at you done to my fairy cakes

SEAGOON: Oh naughty me.

ECCLES: You naughty man. These fairy cakes are heirlooms

SEAGOON: Dear listeners, let me describe this crutty herbet. He was covered from head to foot in hand painted chicken feathers and standing in a tree.

ECCLES: Eeh! Why has this tree stopped.

SEAGOON: It's got a puncture.

ECCLES: aaaa ooo ooog ooo. I said.

SEAGOON: Come down nitty nong ... and warm yourself by this roaring lion

ECCLES: Oh, ta. I'm going to let you into a secret. (pause) I'm making ... a world record.

SEAGOON: Really? Tell the folks. Listen to this folks. Why should I suffer alone?

ECCLES: I do. Ug goo. Folks, if I go on wearing these chicken feathers for the next eighty nine years, I'll break the worlds bird impression record. And win the golden nest ...

SEAGOON: Gad! You parents must be proud of you.

ECCLES: Well actually they're not, ah, I, um

SEAGOON: Well do a bird impression for the folks.

ECCLES: Ok. I'll do a bird impression for the folks. (pause) Bang! Ahhhh, owww

SEAGOON: What bird was that?

ECCLES: Dat was the one you've just shot! You're a funny man Eccles, a ha has, Eccles you're a funny man.

WILLIUM: You're a twit mate, now go on be off with you mate, go on

ECCLES: Well before I be off, I'll do an impression of Max Geldray's nose.

GRAMS: Long fog horn blast.

GELDRAY: Oh boy, at last the conk is getting a break.

INTERVAL: Max Geldray & orchestra.

GREENSLADE: Mr Geldray is now willing to sign autographs.

SEAGOON: Willing? He's desperate mate.

GREENSLADE: Be that as it may, me, mi, mo, mu. But will you please take up your positions for part two. On your marks, get set, go.

FX: pistol shot.

GRAMS: Thunder of running boots speeding up into distance.

SEAGOON: Stop! Look, what's that lying there on the road gasping?

MORIARTY: owwwww.

WILLIUM: Oh, it's a friend of man. A fully mature, clean shaven, world war one doughnut.

SEAGOON: Curse! So it is. Form a cauldron (??? cordon) around it.

MORIARTY: (echoing) gibberish.

WILLIUM: 'ere, there's some nit inside it. I'm off.

GRAMS: Whoosh.

SEAGOON: Whoever you are in that donut, come out!

MORIARTY: (echoing muffled) Don't shoot, come out. We're coming out in the direction of up.

GRAMS: whirring of motors. crash of doors.

SELLERS: (lift attendant) Top floor: Blouses, loose colours ~~~ and certain appliances.

SEAGOON: The door of the doughnut opened and out stepped two well endowed men, facing east.

GRYTPYPE: Don't panic Ned. Put down that loaded Eccles. We are but honest doughnut miners.

SEAGOON: Miners? Mining for what?

GRYTPYPE: Jam.

SEAGOON: Jam the man says. There hasn't been jam in doughnuts since before the war.

MORIARTY: Ahhh no? Look at this!

SEAGOON: Gad! Dear loosteners, there gleaming on a slice of Moriarty's bread was a piece of genuine uncut jam.

MORIARTY: Ah, ha, ha, ha. And there's more where that came from.

GRYTPYPE: Yes Neddie

SEAGOON: Gad! I wish I could strike jam.

GRYTPYPE: You can Ned. Hu, hu, hu ho.

MORIARTY: Oh yes, yes.

SEAGOON: Thankyou.

GRYTPYPE: Join us and become a merry singing jam miner in this key.

MORIARTY & GRYTPYPE: (sing to the tune of Tramp, tramp tramp
the boys are marching) Jam ,jam, jam the boys are marching
Jam, jam, jam they have them all,
if you have to get some more,
you can scrape it off the floor,
sandwich jam, jam, jam, forever more!

SEAGOON: Gad! What a wonderful start

GRYTPYPE: Now Ned your entrance fee. Have you any securities?

FX: Pair of feet running off into distance.

MORIARTY & GRYTPYPE: (humming while they wait) da da da ,da do, la ha ha ho, bum, bum da la loow ...

GRYTPYPE: This thing takes a lot of nerve you know.

FX: returning footsteps running

MORIARTY: Here he comes back again.

FX: footsteps slowing to a stop.

MORIARTY: Welcome back Neddie.

SEAGOON: (out of breath) Here, fifty pounds insurance.

FX: cash register bell

GRYTPYPE: And there is your jam miners ticket. Moriarty take him somewhere while I arrange his drowning.

MORIARTY: I'll do that.

GRYTPYPE: (confidentially) and don't forget the copy of Pam's Paper on the naughty body.

MORIARTY: Just for the plot.

GRYTPYPE: Yes.

MORIARTY: Come Neddie, let us dine in to the manner which we are not accustomed. Namely food.

SEAGOON: Yes! Taxi!

FX: small explosion.

SPRIGGS: Where to Jim? (sings) Where to Jimmmmm?

SEAGOON: Part three, and don't strain yourself. ha ha ha.

SPRIGGS: (sing) Hold tight Jimmmmm.

FX: Horse clopping away.

GREENSLADE: Meantime in part three, a hotel chef has had a terrible accident.

FX: Thud.

BLOODNOK: Oh,

FX: explosion, crashing of glass, utensils etc spilling

BLOODNOK: Oh, open a window will you? Ohh dear. The gas stoves exploded. Oh dear, all me English Pizza ruined. Never mind it was only a B pizza.

FX: explosion.

SEAGOON: Hello, we've come here to dine.

BLOODNOK: Oh, welcome to Chez de Customers. Monsewer

SEAGOON: Merci, merci vous etez très gentile~~~ ~~~ nous sommes très...

BLOODNOK: Speak English

SEAGOON: (French) Enchantres avat.

BLOODNOK: (over) you ignorant swine will you?

MORIARTY: Bloodnok, how dare you insult this ignorant swine?

BLOODNOK: I beg your pardon, I had no idea that you were an ignorant swine. Allow me to show you to your tarble desmaines.

GRYTPYPE: Ah, damaines

SEAGOON: I say. Why are you smothered in rice pudding?

BLOODNOK: I'm trying to keep it at body temperature.

SEAGOON: Splondeed, splondeed. Now could we have the menu?

BLOODNOK: I'm sorry the menu is off. Something else, perhaps? The bill, l'additions? Or something?

SEAGOON: I know where I've seen you.

BLOODNOK: What?

SEAGOON: You're Major Bloodnok.

BLOODNOK: Right first time.

SEAGOON: I recognise your old army boots.

BLOODNOK: Oh yes I always wear 'em you know.

SEAGOON: Why?

BLOODNOK: I can't get 'em off as a matter of fact. You! I ... ~~~ Wait a bit ... where's me old pictures, I've got 'em here somewhere.

SEAGOON: Oh.

BLOODNOK: Of course I recognise that frilling (???) sticking plaster, you're private Ned Seagoon. Well, well, well, well, people told me you were dead.

SEAGOON: What people?

BLOODNOK: The ones that saw you on television recently.

SEAGOON: What, what, what. Lies, ~~~ all lies, hello folks, hello folks!

MILLIGAN: Give us a song

SEAGOON: And the rings of melody . . . oh I sing louder than Adele Leigh . . .

MILLIGAN: Sing!.

SEAGOON: (sings) We'll keep a dustbin in Yaka Ba Kaka.

MORIARTY: He's only joking Neddie, don't get us so upset Neddie

SEAGOON: But why does he have to tell the truth

MORIARTY: I don't know

BLOODNOK: Ned, I hear you've just matured an insurance policy

SEAGOON: True.

BLOODNOK: Oh Ned, you remember that during the war I borrowed a hundred pounds off you?

SEAGOON: Yes.

BLOODNOK: Well I'm perfectly willing to forget all about it. And let bygones be bygones. Now Ned can I interest you in a few shares in an exploding knee industry?

MORIARTY: Don't listen Neddie, he's a ch.. a creat, a pa cheat, a crook, he's a blaggard (blackguard), I still don't (I tell you
???) ...

BLOODNOK: Take that.

FX: Clank on bonce.

MORIARTY: Oooowwww ... (pause) a ch.. a creat, a pa cheat, a crook, he's a blaggard (blackguard), I still don't ...

BLOODNOK: Take that.

FX: Clank on bonce.

MORIARTY: Oooowwww ...

BLOODNOK: Massage his head with a shovel

FX: Slap

MORIARTY: Arrgghh

BLOODNOK: See that bottle of water on the mantel piece?

SEAGOON: Is it yours?

BLOODNOK: Last night I crept down to the river Thames and I stole it.

SEAGOON: What a thrilling life you lead.

BLOODNOK: Yes. I have discovered Neddie, that the river Thames reaches both banks. I believe that there is life on the other side.

SEAGOON: Fool! Ha, ha, ha. England finishes at Woolwich.

BLOODNOK: Ah, but there have been signs, thing floating in the river you know. That show there are sort of low form of life over there you know.

SEAGOON: How long will it take to cross?

BLOODNOK: Four months as the crow flies. Of course if you go to Battersea Bridge it takes only ten minutes.

SEAGOON: But isn't that the danger route?

BLOODNOK: It's hell over there I tell you. Only last week an old lady fell off her electric stilts and well, I'm afraid she'll never live again.

SEAGOON: You're right, it's better by raft. I'll join 'e matey.

YORKSHIRE: (sellers) Good 'e matey.

SEAGOON: Argh aaargh.

BLOODNOK: Now take this pen and sign on a prize crew. Da da daa dum

ORCHESTRA: Nautical theme.

GRAMS: Gaggle of people talking.

GREENSLADE: The sounds you hear are second rate extras chosen for there inferior quality to allow mister Secombe's slender talents to shine.

SEAGOON: I'll see you outside mate. Ha hum. I couldn't miss ya. (clears throat) Men of old Deptford (*1), you're all naughty sons of the sea.

BLUEBOTTLE: I'm not, I was born on dry land I was. The Fred Cringe ward.

SEAGOON: Right. Take one pace forward.

FX: Boots step step, slap

BLUEBOTTLE: Aiiie!

SEAGOON: Right, now one pace back you spotty herbet.

BLUEBOTTLE: You rotten twinick, why don't you pick on somebody your own size?

SEAGOON: (crying) That's the trouble, there is nobody my size!

BLUEBOTTLE: Can I go home now? I've got to get my ear bandaged, I just bit it.

SEAGOON: How did you manage to bite your ear?

BLUEBOTTLE: I stood on a chair.

SEAGOON: Stop that laughing ...

BLUEBOTTLE: Oh.

SEAGOON: I'm the funny man in this bit.

BLUEBOTTLE: Oh.

SEAGOON: Now this, it says 'ear, now! Those who want to sail on the cross Thames raft follow me. But first Ray Ellington will give us a chance to get at the old brandy there. Arrggg.

FX: Stampeding feet.

ELLINGTON: I wonder where he hides that stuff?

INTERVAL: Ray Ellington sings 'Odd man out ...'

FX: continuous slapping, under:

MORIARTY: ow, e, arg, ow ... ahh

(2 second pause)

FX: slapping resumes, under:

MORIARTY: Ar e ar ...

GRYTPYPE: Here ... Take that, take that ~~~ ~~~ ...

FX: slapping stops

MORIARTY: ow ee ar

GRYTPYPE: Let that clubbing be a lesson to you. You crutty French schlapper.

MORIARTY: ~~~ nutting

GRYTPYPE: I turn my back and you let Neddie get into the opiate brown power of Bloodnok.

FX: slap.

MORIARTY: Scream. I'm sorry Gytpype, sorry, pronounced

GRAMS: (Moriarty inside pipe) I'm sorry Grytpypeeee.

GRYTPYPE: All right then Moriarty.

GRAMS: (Moriarty inside pipe, sped up) I'm sorry Grytpypeeee.

GRYTPYPE: Don't cringe to me you ...

GRAMS: (Moriarty inside pipe, lower) I'm sorry Grytpypeeee, I'm sorry Grytpypeeee.

GRYTPYPE: I can't bear you saying it once, three times ...

GRAMS: (Moriarty inside pipe, sped up) I'm sorry Grytpypeeee, I'm sorry Grytpype. (repeated and echoed)

GRYTPYPE: You're sorry?

GRAMS: (Moriarty inside pipe) I'm sorry Grytpypeeee. I'm sorry Grytpypeeee. (getting higher and higher) I'm sorry Grytpypeeee. I'm sorry Grytpypeeee. I'm sorry Grytpypeeee.

GRYTPYPE: I've heard that somewhere before. ... Get into the cannon Moriarty.

FX: Boom.

MORIARTY: Arrgggg (going off)

GRYTPYPE: Consider yourself fired. Fortunately by walking with a limp, I placed a limpet mine under their raft. Don't forget folks: they are on a raft.

ORCHESTRA: nautical trumpet link

MORIARTY: (over, sings) Ba bar da doh.

GRYTPYPE: (over, sings) Dohhhh. De ya papoohh.

MILLIGAN: (off) October the fourteenth.

GRAMS: Seagulls, under:

BANERJEE: (Milligan) Get! Shoo, shoo ~~~ ~~~ I'm sorry Grytpype (???)

LALKAKA: (sellers) ~~~ ~~~

BANERJEE: But look, ohh dear.

LALKAKA: Oh dear

BANERJEE: All coal dust everywhere

LALKAKA: Ah

BANERJEE: Good heavens, I say, good heavens

LALKAKA: Ahdah

BANERJEE: I, I, I don't know what. The European Bloodnok says the raft, the raft must be ~~~

LALKAKA: Oh dear

BANERJEE: I don't know what. The European Bloodnok says the raft must be finished today.

LALKAKA: It is man it will be finished today definitely ~~~ ~~~ (???)

BANERJEE: It will

LALKAKA: Now don't panic man, everything in the garden is indeed lovely, I'm telling you.

BANERJEE: Lovely, lovely, lovely. Lovely he says. Lovely! I'm down to my last loin cloth and not a sign of any curry powder from the old country (???). Everything is lovely he said, everything is lovely.

LALKAKA: But listen , listen

BANERJEE: What?

LALKAKA: Listen to me Banerjee

BANERJEE: ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

LALKAKA: But listen, listen

LALKAKA: What?

BANERJEE: Listening, listening listening

LALKAKA: Looking on the op . . . op . . . er . . . opamatistic side,
man. Two things can happen.

BANERJEE: Two things?

LALKAKA: One, one, one that we finish it

BANERJEE: Yep, yep.

LALKAKA: And two that we do no finish it.

BANERJEE: Yes.

LALKAKA: And if we don't finish it, well that is definitetly the finish of it, is that ...

BANERJEE: What are you saying man

LALKAKA: I know

BANERJEE: What are you saying?

LALKAKA: I ~~~

BANERJEE: We don't finish it, that is the finish of it. You're up the duff I tell you.

BANERJEE: (talking over Lalkaka)~~~ ~~~ ~~~

LALKAKA: What I said was grammatically correct, I'm telling you

BANERJEE: ~~~ ~~~

LALKAKA: It is just that you've never been to Oxford con~~~ (Cantonment ???) University.

BANERJEE: Ha ha hud!

LALKAKA: So that you do not understand the parsing and the tensing of the sentences

SEAGOON: Is this the raft finished?

BLOODNOK: It's floating and that's good enough for me. We shall sail with the tide. Host the mast. We shall have to wait for the wind.

SEAGOON: With you aboard we shouldn't have to wait too long

BLOODNOK: What?! Now I want you to keep this copy of Pam's Paper on your body.

SEAGOON: Oh, thank you, it fits perfectly

BLOODNOK: Oh, I chose it myself

SEAGOON: (girly voice) why thank you

BLOODNOK: Not at all

SEAGOON: What about navigators?

BLOODNOK: I never wear navi-gators! This man will be he, he he hee

FX: bird call whistle

SEAGOON: Of course, do you remember me?

FX: gunshot

ECCLES: Owww! Aooll, aool. My new fairy cakes

SEAGOON: This man is no good, he's perforated below the water line

BLOODNOK: What? He's brilliant I tell you. Eccles? Did you know that the Thames is two hundred and eighteen miles long

ECCLES: Two hundred and eighteen miles long, ayy

BLOODNOK: And you know it's thirty yards wide

ECCLES: Thirty yards wide

BLOODNOK: You see he has the answer to both questions

SEAGOON: Ahh, you know how wide it is, you know how long it is. But! Can you tell me where the source is?

ECCLES: Oh I think it's on the dinner table. ha ha, you're a funny man Eccles ..

BLOODNOK: Yes.

ECCLES: Oh, I lie mala.

SEAGOON: Ha ha ha ha.

ECCLES: I'm a lone, ain't I?

BLOODNOK: Pity about that but proof positive. We'll cast off, I'll just strap on these fifty life belts for a joke.

SEAGOON: Well done.

BLOODNOK: The dreaded Thames trans trum ~~~

ECCLES: ba dum ba dum

BLOODNOK: Is on!

ORCHESTRA: Nautical theme

FX: fog horn (continue quietly in background)

BLUEBOTTLE: (echoing Greenslade)
GREENSLADE: Meantime on the dreaded north bank, the editors of Pam's Paper, which if you remember are offering one thousand pounds for

BLUEBOTTLE: Get on with it will you? Keeping me hanging round, I'm only wearing shorts in this fog you know.

GREENSLADE: (clears throat) On the mysterious north bank we find the editors of Pam's Paper enveloped in fog.

FX: Long fog horn.

BLOODNOK: Ohhh.

CRUN: Oh dear, what a night it's going to be Min.

BANNISTER: Ohhhh!

FX: Fog horn.

CRUN: Ohhhhh, ohhhh

FX: low fog horn answered by another back and forth

CRUN: Put your saxophone away Min will you

BANNISTER: I wish it was. It's something crossing the river Henry! And don't forget that lord Pugg is coming tomorrow. Iii puggy.

CRUN: It's not Pugg Min, it's pronounced "Pheeeeeewwwww"

BANNISTER: Oh, that's dangerous Henry, I mean, supposing somebody recognise him on the tram and shouts "PHEEEWWW"

CRUN: Ahhh.

BANNISTER: Could put the trams off their food (???)

FX: crash, explosion

BANNISTER: Owwww!

SEAGOON: EEEllllggggggggg

CRUN: Min

BANNISTER: Owwww

CRUN: Somebody's drowning, bring the Irish Stew

BANNISTER: What for?

CRUN: I love Irish Stew

BANNISTER: Well Irish stew ...

SEAGOON: (off) Help, help, my legs don't reach the bottom

BANNISTER: He must be deformed

CRUN: What's happening out there?

LITTLE JIM: He's fallen in the water.

CRUN: Ned, catch this dry suit of clothes

SEAGOON: Thank you, here's the receipt

GRYTPYPE: Blast Moriarty he's still alive

ECCLES: Ha! Ug ar. (catching breath) Pardon me, oh dear, what a swim. Ha owww, are you natives of the dreaded north bank?

GRYTPYPE: Ahhh ... Yes, yes

ECCLES: ah ah ah

GRYTPYPE: Welcome white man, just put this Pam's Paper in your pocket

ECCLES: Oh taa

MORIARTY: Now close your eyes Eccles. Together, hurmmmph

FX: splash

ECCLES: You're wrong folks I stepped to one side, ha ha ha. Arrhhhgh

FX: splash

ECCLES: Who did that to me?

GREENSLADE: That's it folks, I've got to dash. I've got to an insurance company. Owwll!

FX: splash

SEAGOON: Wrong again folks, ha ha ha. Well it's a happy ending

ORCHESTRA: end theme starts

Female announcer: That was the Goon Show, featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray. The orchestra was conducted by Wally Stott, the script was by Spike Milligan, the announcer was Wallace Greenslade and the program was produced by John Browel.

ORCHESTRA: Playout.

Notes:
1) On the south bank of the Thames - was the home until 1961 of the most important naval victualling yard. Also Milligan home ground.