"Ready, march!" "Eyes... right!" "Eyes right!" "Baldrick, what are you doing out there?" "I'm carving something on this bullet, sir." "What are you carving?" "I'm carving "Baldrick", sir." "Why?" "It's a cunning plan, actually." "Of course it is." "You see, you know they say that somewhere there's a bullet with your name on it?" "Yes?" "Well, I thought if I owned the bullet with my name on it," "I'd never get hit by it, 'cos I won't ever shoot myself." "Oh, shame." "And the chances of there being two bullets with my name on them are very small indeed." "That's not the only thing around here that's "very small indeed"." "Your brain, for example, Is so minute, Baldrick, that if a hungry cannibal cracked your head open, there wouldn't be enough inside to cover a small water biscuit." "Tally-ho, pip-pip, and Bernard's your uncle." "In English we say, "good morning"." " Look what I got for you, sir." " What?" "It's the latest issue of "King  Country"." "Oh, damn inspiring stuff!" "The magazine that tells the tommies the truth about the war." "Or alternatively, the greatest work of fiction since vows of fidelity were included In the French marriage service." "Come, come, sir." "Now, you can't deny that this fine newspaper is good for the morale of the men." "Certainly not," "I just think that more could be achieved by giving them some real toilet paper." "I'm not with you at all, sir, what could any patriotic chap have against this magnificent mag?" "Apart from his bottom?" "Well, look at it." "I mean the stuff's about as convincing as Dr. Crippen's defence lawyer." "The British tommies are all portrayed as six-foot six with biceps the size of Bournemouth." "Thoroughly inspiring stuff." "And look, sir, this also just arrived for you this morning." "Hmm, do you know what this is, Lieutenant?" " It's a good old service revolver." " Wrong." "It's a brand new service revolver, which I've suspiciously been sent without asking for it." "I smell something fishy, and I'm not talking about the contents of Baldrick's apple crumble." "That's funny, sir, because we didn't order those new trench-climbing ladders either." " New ladders?" " Yeah, came yesterday." "I issued them to the men, and they were absolutely thrilled." "Isn't that right men?" "Yes, sir," "First solid fuel we've had since we burned the cats." "Something's going on, and I think I can make an educated guess what it is." "Something which you, George, would find hard to do." "Ah, true, true." "Where I was at school, education could go hang as long as a boy could hit a six, sing the school song very loud, and take a hot crumpet from behind without blubbing." "I, on the other hand, am a fully-rounded human being with a degree from the University of Life, a diploma from the School of Hard Knocks, and three gold stars from the Kindergarten of Getting the Shit Kicked Out of Me." "And my instincts lead me to deduce that we are at last about to go over the top." "Great Scott, sir, you mean..." "You mean the moment's finally arrived for us to give Harry Hun a darned good British-style thrashing, six of the best, trousers down?" "If you mean are we all going to get killed, yes." "Clearly, Field Marshal Haig is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to Berlin." "Right!" "Bravo-issimo!" "Well let's make a start, eh?" "Up and over to glory, last one in Berlin's a rotten egg." "Give me your helmet, Lieutenant." "Yes, some sort of clever hat camouflage might be in order." "Permission to speak, sir." "Granted, with a due sense of exhaustion and dread." "I have a cunning plan to get us out of getting killed, sir." " Ah, yes, what is it?" " Cooking." "I see." "You know staff HQ is always on the lookout for good cooks?" "Well, we go over there, we cook 'em something," "And we get out of the trenches that way." " Baldrick, it's a brilliant plan." " Is it?" "Yes, it's superb." "Permission to write home immediately, sir!" "This is the first brilliant plan a Baldrick's ever had!" "For centuries we've tried, and they've always turned out to be total pig swill." "My mother will be as pleased as punch." "Hmm, if only she were as good-looking as punch, Baldrick." "There is, however, one slight flaw in the plan." "Oh?" " You're the worst cook in the entire world." " Oh, yeah, that's right." "There are amoeba on Saturn who could boil a better egg than you." "Your filet mignons in sauce béarnaise look like dog turds in glue." "That's because they are." "Your plum duff tastes like it's a molehill decorated with rabbit droppings." "I thought you wouldn't notice." "And your cream custard has the texture of cat's vomit." "Again, it's..." "If you were to serve one of your meals in staff HQ, you'd be arrested for the greatest mass poisoning since Lucretia Borgia invited 500 of her close friends around for a wine and anthrax party." "No, we'll have to think of a better plan than that." "Right, how about a nice meal, while you chew it over?" "What's on the menu?" "Rat." "Sauté or fricassee?" "Oh, the agony of choice." "Sautéed involves... ?" "Well, you take the freshly shaved rat, and you marinade it in a puddle for a while." "Mm-hmm, for how long?" "Till it's drowned." "Then you stretch it out under a hot light bulb, then you get within dashing distance of the latrine, and you scoff it right down." "So that's sautéing." "And fricasseeing?" "Exactly the same, just a slightly bigger rat." "Well, call me old Mr. Unadventurous, but I think I'll give it a miss this once." "Fair enough, sir." " More for the rest of us." "Eh, sir?" " Absolutely, Private." "Tally-ho, barf barf!" "Hello, the Savoy Grill." "Oh, it's you... ." "Yes... ." "Yes, I'll be over in 40 minutes." "Who was it then, sir?" "Strangely enough, Baldrick, it was Pope Gregory IX, inviting me for drinks aboard his steam yacht "The Saucy Sue", currently wintering in Montego Bay with the England cricket team and the Balinese Goddess of Plenty." " Really?" " No, not really." "I've been ordered to HQ." "No doubt that idiot General Melchett is about to offer me some attractive new opportunities to have my brains blown out for Britain." "What do you want, Darling?" "It's "Captain Darling" to you." "General Melchett wants to see you about a highly important secret mission." " What's going on, Darling?" " Captain Blackadder to see you, sir." "Ah, excellent." "Just a short back and sides today, I think, please." "Er, that's Corporal Black, sir." "Captain Blackadder is here about the other matter, sir, the secret matter." "Ah, yes, the special mission." "At ease, Blackadder." "Now, what I'm about to tell you is absolutely tip-top-secret." " Is that clear?" " It is, sir." "Now, I've compiled a list of those with security clearance." " Have you got it Darling?" " Yes, sir." "Read it, please." "It's top security, sir," "I think that's all the captain needs to know." "Nonsense!" "Let's hear the list in full!" "Very well, sir." "List of personnel cleared for Mission Gainsborough, as dictated by General C.H. Melchett." "You and me, Darling, obviously." "Field Marshal Haig," "Field Marshal Haig's wife, all Field Marshal Haig's wife's friends, their families, their families' servants, their families' servants' tennis partners, and some chap I bumped into in the mess the other day called Bernard." "So, it's maximum security, is that clear?" "Quite clear, sir." "Only myself and the rest of the English- speaking world is to know." "Good man." "Now, Field Marshal Haig has formulated a brilliant new tactical plan to ensure final victory in the field." "Ah." "Would this brilliant plan involve us climbing out of our trenches and walking very slowly towards the enemy, sir?" "How could you possibly know that, Blackadder?" "It's classified information." "It's the same plan that we used last time, and the seventeen times before that." "E-e-exactly!" "And that is what is so brilliant about it!" "It will catch the watchful Hun totally off-guard!" "Doing precisely what we have done eighteen times before is exactly the last thing they'll expect us to do this time!" "There is, however, one small problem." "That everyone always gets slaughtered in the first ten seconds." "That's right!" "And Field Marshal Haig is worried that this may be depressing the men a tadge." "So he's looking to find a way to cheer them up." "Well, his resignation and suicide would seem the obvious solution." "Interesting thought." "Make a note of it, Darling." "Take a look at this..." "I'm sure you know it ..."King  Country"." "Ah, yes, without question my favourite magazine... soft, strong and thoroughly absorbent." "Top-hole, Blackadder," "I thought it would be right up your alley." "Field Marshal Haig's plan is this:" "To commission a man to do an especially stirring painting for the cover of the next issue, so as to really inspire the men for the final push." "What I want you to do, Blackadder, is to labour night and day to find a first-rate artist from amongst your men." "Impossible, sir." "I know from long experience that my men have all the artistic talent of a cluster of colour-blind hedgehogs... in a bag." "Hmm, well that's a bit of a blow." "We needed a man to leave the trenches immediately." " Leave the trenches?" " Mm-hm." "Yes, I wonder if you've enjoyed, as I have sir, that marvellous painting in the national portrait gallery, Bag Interior, by the colour-blind hedgehog workshop of Sienna." "I'm sorry, are you saying you can find this man?" "I think I can." "And might I suggest, sir, that, having left the trenches, it might be a good idea to post our man to Paris in order to soak up a little of the artistic atmosphere... perhaps even Tahiti... so as to produce a real masterpiece." "Yes, yes, but can you find the man?" "!" "Now, I know I can, sir." "Before you can say "Sunflowers,"" "I'll have Vincent Van Gogh standing before you." "No, don't stop, sir." "It's coming, it's definitely coming." "I, hmm, yeah, er, hm." "I just wonder whether two socks and a hand grenade is really the sort of thing that covers of "King  Country" are made of." "They will be when I've painted them being shoved up the Kaiser's backside." " Ah, now, now, this is interesting." " What is?" "Well, Private Baldrick is obviously a bit of an impressionist." "The only decent impression he can do is of a man with no talent." "What's it called, Baldrick?" ""The Vomiting Cavalier"?" "No, sir, that's not supposed to be vomit." " It's dabs of light." " No, it's vomit." " Yes, so, why did you choose that?" " You told me to, sir." "Did I?" "Yeah, you told me to paint whatever comes from within, so I did my breakfast." "Look, there's a little tomato." "Hopeless." "If only I'd paid attention in nursery art class instead of spending my entire time manufacturing papier maché Willies to frighten Sarah Wallis." "You know, it's funny, but painting was the only thing I was ever any good at." "Well, it's a pity you didn't keep it up." "Well, as a matter of fact, I did, actually." "I mean..." "I mean normally" "I wouldn't show them to anyone, 'cos they're just embarrassing daubs really, but you know, ah, they give me pleasure." "I'm embarrassed to show them to you now as it happens, but there you go, for what they're worth." "To be honest, I should have my hands cut off, I mean..." "George!" "These are brilliant!" "Why didn't you tell us about these before?" "Well, you know, one doesn't want to blow one's own trumpet." "You might at least have told us you had a trumpet." "These paintings could spell my way out of the trenches." "Yours?" "That's right, ours." "All we have to do is paint something heroic to appeal to the simple-minded tommy." "Over to you, Baldrick." "Um, how about a noble tommy, standing, with a look of horror and disgust, over the body of a murdered nun, what's been brutally done over by a nasty old German." "Excellent." "I-I can see it now:" "the Nun and the Hun." "Brilliant!" "No time to lose." "George, set up your easel, Baldrick and I will pose." "This is going to be art's greatest moment since Mona Lisa sat down and told Leonardo da Vinci she was in a slightly odd mood." "Baldrick, you lie down in the mud and be the nun." "I'm not lying down there, it's all wet." "Well, let's put it this way:" "Either you lie down and get wet, or you're knocked down and get a broken nose." "Actually it's not that wet, is it?" "No." "Who are you going to be then, sir?" "The noble tommy?" "Precisely, standing over the body of the ravaged nun." "I want a wimple." "You should have gone before we started the picture." "You know, the funny thing is, my father was a nun." "No, he wasn't." "He was so, sir." "I know, 'cos whenever he was up in court, and the judge used to say, "Occupation?"" "He'd say, "None."" "Right." "You're ready?" "Just about sir, yes." "Um, if you just like to pop your clothes on the stool." "I'm sorry?" "Just pop your clothes on the stool over there." "You mean, you want me..."tackle out"?" "Well, I would prefer so, sir, yes." "If I can remind you of the realities of battle, George, one of the first things that everyone notices" "Is that all the protagonists have got their clothes on." "Neither we nor the Hun favour fighting our battles au naturel." "Sir, it's artistic license." "It's willing suspension of disbelief." "Well, I'm not having anyone staring in disbelief at my Willie suspension!" "Now, get on and paint the bloody thing... sharpish!" "Brilliant, George, it's a masterpiece." "The wimple suits you, Baldrick." "But it completely covers my face." "Exactly." "Now, then, General Melchett will be here at any moment." "When he arrives, leave the talking to me, all right?" "I like to keep an informal trench, as you know, but today you must only speak with my express permission, Is that clear?" "Is that clear?" "Permission to speak." "Yes, sir, absolutely." "Attention!" "Dugout, attention!" "Excellent, at ease." "Now, then, Blackadder, where would you like me to sit?" "I thought just a simple trim of the moustache today, nothing drastic." "We're here about the painting, sir." "Oh, yes, of course." "Good Lord, George!" "Ha ha ha!" "How are you, my boy?" "I said how are you?" "Permission to speak." "Absolutely top-hole sir, with a ying and a yang and a yippetty-doo." "Splendid!" "And your Uncle Bertie sends his regards." "I told him you could have a week off in April." "Don't want you missing the boat race, do we?" "Permission to speak." "Certainly not." "Permission to sing boisterously, sir?" "If you must." "# Row, row, row your punt #" "# Gently down the stream #" "# Belts off, trousers down, isn't life a scream?" "#" "Fabulous." "University education, you can't beat it." "Bravo!" "Now, what have we here?" "Name?" "Permission to speak." "Baldrick, sir." "Ah, tally-ho, yippety-dip, and zing zang spillip." "Looking forward to bullying off for the final chukka?" "Permission to speak." "Answer the general, Baldrick." "I can't answer him, sir," "I don't know what he's talking about." "Aah, are you looking forward to the big push?" "No, sir, I'm absolutely terrified." "Ah, the healthy humour of the honest tommy." "Ha ha ha, don't worry my boy, If you should falter, remember that Captain Darling and I are behind you." "About thirty-five miles behind you." "Right, well, stand by your beds." "Let's have a look at this artist of yours, Blackadder." " Next to me, Darling." " Thank you, sir." "So, ah, have you found someone?" "Yes, sir, I think I have." "None other than young George here." "Oh, bravo!" "Well, let's have a shufti then." "It's simply called "War"." "Damn silly title, George." "Looks more like a couple of socks and a stick of pineapple to me." "Ah, permission to speak, sir?" "!" "Uh, I think not, actually." "Quite right!" "If what happens when you open your mouth" "Is anything like what happens when you open your paintbox, we'll all be drenched in phlegm!" "Oh, no, this isn't what we're looking for at all, is it, Darling?" " No, sir." " No sir!" "There is this, sir." "It's Private Baldrick's." "He's called it "My Family And Other Animals."" "Oh, good Lord, no!" "Well, I'm afraid that's about it, sir, apart from this little thing." "Ah, now that's more like it!" "Who painted this, Blackadder?" "Well actually, it was me." "Permission to speak really quite urgently, sir!" "Damn and blast your goggly eyes, will you stop interrupting, George?" "!" "This is excellent!" "Congratulations, man." "It's totally inspiring!" "Makes you want to jump over the top and yell, "Yah boo, sucks to you, Fritzie!"" "Thank you, sir." "Are you sure you did this, Blackadder?" "Of course I'm sure." " I'm afraid I don't believe you." " How dare you, Darling?" "General, I can't let that slur pass." "What possible low, suspicious, slanderous reason could this office boy have for thinking that I didn't paint the picture?" "Three reasons, as a matter of fact." " Firstly, you're in it." " It's a self-portrait." "Secondly, you told us you couldn't paint." "One doesn't like to blow one's own trumpet." " Permission..." " Denied." "And thirdly, it's signed "George."" "Well spotted." "But not signed George, dedicated to George." "King George." "Gentlemen, The King." "The King!" " Where?" "Bravo, Blackadder, I have absolutely no hesitation in appointing you our official regimental artist." "You're a damn fine chap, not a pen-pushing, desk-sucking blotter-jotter like Darling here." "Eh, Darling?" "No sir." "No sir." "Well, accompany us back to HQ immediately." "Ten shun!" "Permission to jolly well speak right now, sir, otherwise I might just burst like a bloody balloon!" "Later, George." "Much later." "Congratulations on your new appointment, Blackadder." "Thank you, sir." "And may I say, Blackadder, I am particularly pleased about it." "Are you?" "Oh, yes." "Now that you are our official war artist, we can give you the full briefing." "The fact is, Blackadder, that the King  Country cover story was just a cover story!" "We want you, as our top painting bard, to leave the trenches..." "Good." " Tonight" " Suits me." "And go out into No-Man's Land." " No-Man's Land." " Yes." " Not Paris." " No." "We want you to come back with accurate drawings of the enemy positions." "You want me to sit in No-Man's Land painting pictures of the Germans?" "Precisely... good man!" "Well, it's a very attractive proposition, but unfortunately, not practical." "You see, my medium is light." "It'll be pitch-dark..." "I won't be able to see a thing." "Ah... that is a point." "I tell you what..." "We'll send up a couple of flares." "You'll be lit up like a Christmas tree." "Oh, excellent." "Glad I checked." "All right... total and utter quiet." "So, for instance, if any of us crawl over any barbed wire, they must on no account go..." "Aaahhh!" "You just crawled over some barbed wire, sir?" "No, Baldrick," "I've just put my elbow in a blob of ice cream." "Well, that's all right." "Now, where the hell are we?" "It's a bit difficult to say." "We appeared to have crawled into an area marked with mushrooms." "And what do those symbols denote?" "That we're in a field of mushrooms?" "That is a military map," "It is unlikely to list interesting flora and fungi." "Look at the key and you'll discover that those mushrooms aren't for picking." "Good Lord, you're quite right, sir." "It says "mine"." "So these mushrooms must belong to the man who made the map." "Either that, or we're in the middle of a mine field." "Oh, dear." "So he owns the field as well?" "They're firing, sir, they're firing!" "Yes, thank you, Lieutenant." "If they hit me, you'll be sure to point it out, won't you?" "Get on with your drawing and let's get out of here." "Surely we ought to wait for the flare, sir, you see, my medium is light..." "Just use your imagination, for heaven's sake!" "Wait a minute... that's the answer." "I can't believe I've been so stupid!" "That is unusual, 'cos usually I'm the stupid one." "Well, I'm not over-furnished" "In the brain department." "Well, on this occasion," "I've been stupidest of all." "Oh, now, sir," "I will not have that." "Baldrick and I will always be more stupid than you." "Isn't that right, Baldrick?" "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" "Yeah... stupidy, stupidy, stupidy!" "The stupidest stupids" "In the whole history of stupidityness!" "Finished?" "I think the obvious point is this..." "We'll go straight back to the dugout and do the painting from there." "You do the most imaginative, most exciting possible drawing" "Of German defences from your imagination." "I say, now, that is a challenge." "Quite." "Come on, let's get out of here." "Oh, sir, just one thing..." "If we should happen to tread on a mine, what do we do?" "Well, normal procedure, Lieutenant, is to jump 200 feet into the air and scatter yourself over a wide area." "Are you sure this is what you saw, Blackadder?" "Absolutely." "There may have been a few more armament factories and not quite as many elephants, but that's generally it." "Well, you know what this means." "If it's true, sir, we'll have to cancel the push." "Exactly." " Damn!" " What a nuisance." "Exactly what the enemy would expect us to do, and therefore, exactly what we shan't do!" "Ah." "Now..." "If we attack where the line is strongest, then Fritz will think that our reconnaissance is a total shambles." "This will lull him into a sense of false security, and then next week we can attack where the line is actually badly defended, and win the greatest victory since the Winchester flower arranging team beat Harrow by 12 sore bottoms to one!" "Tell me... have you ever visited the planet Earth, sir?" "So, best fighting trousers on, Blackadder!" "Permission to shout "Bravo"" "at an annoyingly loud volume, sir!" "Permission granted." "Bravo!" "That's the spirit!" "Just your kind of caper, eh, Blackadder?" "Oh, yes." "Good luck against those elephants." "Get me a chisel and some marble, will you, Baldrick?" "Taking up sculpture now, sir?" "No, I thought I'd get my headstone done." "What are you gonna put on it?" "Here lies Edmund Blackadder, and he's bloody annoyed." "We're going over, are we, sir?" "Yes, we are, unless I can think of some brilliant plan." "Would you like some rat au vin to help you think?" "Rat au vin?" "Yeah, it's rat, and it's been run over by a van." "No thank you, Baldrick." "Although it gives me an idea." "Telephone, please." "I suppose Blackadder and his boys will have gone over the top by now, sir." "Yes." "God, I wish I was out there with them, dodging the bullets, instead of having to sit here drinking this Chateau Lafitte and eating these fillet mignons with sauce bernaise." "My thoughts exactly, sir." "Damn this Chateau Lafitte." "He's a very brave man, Blackadder, and of course that lieutenant of his, George." "Cambridge man, you know." "His uncle Bertie and I used to break wind for our college." "Slightly unusual taste, this sauce bernaise." "Yes, and to be quite frank, these mignons are... are a little... well..." "What?" "Well, dungy." "What on earth's wrong with our cook?" "Well, it's rather strange story, sir." "Oh?" "Tell, tell." "Well, sir, I received a phone call this afternoon from Pope Gregory IX telling me that our cook had been selected for the England cricket team and must set sail for the West Indies immediately." "Really?" "Barely a moment later, the phone rang again." "It was a trio of wandering Italian chefs who happened to be in the area offering their services." "So I had the quartermaster take them on at once." "Oh?" "Jumping Jupiter!" "Are you sure these are real raisins In this plum duff?" "Oh yes, I'm sure they are, sir." "Everything will be all right once the cream custard arrives." "Jolly good fun, sir, but dash it all, we appear to have missed the big push!" "Oh, damn, so we have." "One thing puzzles me, Baldrick..." "How did you manage to get so much custard out of such a small cat?" "Ready, march!" "Eyes... right!" "Eyes, right!" "You'd like to book a table for three by the window for 9:30 pm, not too near the band, in the name of Obel-Ointment Fungentula?" "Yes, yes, I think you might have the wrong number." "That's all right." "Another crossed line, eh, sir?" "That phone system is a shambles, no wonder we haven't had any orders!" "On the contrary, George, we've had plenty of orders." "We have orders for six meters of Hungarian crushed velvet curtain material, four rock salmon and a ha'pence of chips, and a cab for a Mr. Redgrave, picking up from 14 Arnost Grove, Raintop Bell." "Rather!" "We don't want those sort of orders, we want orders to deck old glory." "When are we going to give Fritz a taste of our British spunk?" "George, please." "No one is more anxious to advance than I am, but until I get these communication problems sorted out," "I'm afraid we're stuck." "Captain Blackadder speaking." "No, I'm afraid the line's very cclllffffhhtttt!" "Hello?" "Hello, Captain Blackadder, hello?" "Schnell, schnell, die koppeltop" "I said there's a terrible line at my end." "You're to advance on the enemy at once." "Ppttttt..." "# A wandering minstrel eye in the... #" "Gale Force Eight... imminent." "I say, sir, what's the message?" "I'm on tenterhooks, do tell!" "Well, as far as I can tell, the message was, he's got a terrible lion up his end, so there's an advantage to an enema at once." "Damn!" "Message from HQ, sir." "Ah, now, this'll be it." "A telegram ordering an advance!" "Hmm, yes, I'm afraid not, George." "It "is" a telegram, it "is" ordering an advance, but it seems to be addressed to someone called 'Catpain Blackudder'." "Do you know a Catpain Blackudder, George?" "Well, it rings a bell, but I... no." " Nope, me neither." " Oh, well." "Anyway, George, I'm sure if they want to contact us, they'll find a way." "Pigeons, sir!" "There's a pigeon in our trench!" "Ah, now, this'll be it!" "Yes, it's one of the King's carrier pigeons." "No, it isn't, that pigeon couldn't carry the King!" "Hasn't got a tray or anything." "Lieutenant, revolver, please." "Oh now, sir, you really shouldn't do this, you know!" "Come on, George, with 50,000 men getting killed a week, who's going to miss a pigeon?" "Well, not you, obviously, sir." "In any case, it's scarcely a court-martial offence." "Get plucking, Baldrick." "All right, sir." "Look, it's got a little ring 'round its leg, there's a novelty!" "Oh, really, is there a paper hat, as well?" "No, but there's a joke." "Read it out, sir." "It's a bit charred." "Something-something at once..." "P.S., due to communication crisis, the shooting of carrier pigeons is now a court-martial offence." "I don't see what's funny about that, sir." "It's not funny, it's deadly serious." "We're in trouble." "So I shall eat the evidence for lunch, and if anyone asks you any questions at all, we didn't receive any messages and we definitely did not shoot this plump-breasted pigeon." "Umm... delicious." "Aye!" "Blackadder!" "Darling:" "Attention!" "And why, Captain, are you not advancing across No Man's Land?" "Well, sir, call me a bluffo traditionalist, but I was always taught to wait for the order to attack before attacking." "Are you trying to tell me you haven't received any orders?" "What the hell are you playing at, Darling?" "That's a blatant lie, sir." "I spoke to Blackadder less than an hour ago." "Yes, you did." "To tell me some gobbledygook about having a lion up your bottom." "Hmm, as I thought... it's the old communications problem again." "Stand easy." "Action on this is imperative." "Take that down, Darling." "Also, make a note of the word gobbledygook." "I like it." "I want to use it more often in conversation." "I must say, sir, I find this all very unlikely." "Not only did I telephone Blackadder, but as you'll recall, we sent him a telegram and a carrier pigeon." "Did you?" "Are you telling us you haven't had a pigeon, Blackadder?" "Um..." "Ahh..." "Come on man, you must have done!" "I sent our top bird..." "Speckled Jim." "My own true love, who's been with me since I was a nipper!" "To business." "I'm giving you your order to advance now." "Synchronize watches, gentlemen." "Private, what is the time?" "We didn't receive any messages, and Captain Blackadder definitely did not shoot this delicious plump-breasted pigeon, sir." "What!" "?" "You want to be cremated, Baldrick, or buried at sea?" "Umm..." " Ah, Lieutenant?" " Sir." "Do you mind answering a couple of questions?" "Not at all, sir." "We didn't get any messages, and Captain Blackadder definitely did not shoot this delicious plump-breasted pigeon." "Thanks, George." "And look, sir, pigeon feathers..." ""white" feathers." "Very apt, eh, Blackadder?" "White feathers?" "Oh no, sir, that's gobbleyjook!" "They're not white, they're sort of speckly!" "Speckly?" "!" "Aahhhhhhhh!" "You shot my Speckled Jim?" "!" "You're for it now, Blackadder." "Quite frankly, sir, I've suspected this for some time." "Quite clearly, Captain Blackadder has been disobeying orders with a breathtaking impertinence." "I don't care if he's been rogering the Duke of York with a prize-winning leek!" "He shot my pigeon!" "Aaahh-ahhhh-ooohhhh!" "Take it easy, sir." "I think we should do this by the book, sir." "Yes, yes, you're right, of course." "I'm sorry." "Attention!" "Captain Blackadder, as of this moment you may consider yourself under arrest." "You know what the penalty is for disobeying orders, Blackadder?" "Umm... court-martial, followed by immediate cessation of chocolate rations?" "No." "Court-martial followed by immediate death by firing squad." "Oh, so I got it half right." "All saddled in and happy, are we then, sir?" "Reining all our last goodbyes?" "Oh, no need for that, Perkins," "I've just dashed off a couple of notes, one asking for a sponge bag, and the other sending for my lawyer." "Oh, your lawyer, yes." "Don't you think that might be a bit of a waste of money, sir?" "Not when he's the finest mind in English legal history." "Ever heard of Bob Massingbird?" "Oh, yes indeed, sir!" "A most gifted gentleman!" "Quite." "I remember Massingbird's most famous case, the Case of the Bloody Knife." "A man was found next to a murdered body, he had the knife in his hand, thirteen witnesses had seen him stab the victim, and when the police arrived he said," ""I'm glad I killed the bastard."" "Massingbird not only got him off, he got him knighted in the New Year's honours list, and the relatives of the victim had to pay to have the blood washed out of his jacket." "And he's a dab hand at the prosecution, as well, sir." "Yes, well, look at Oscar Wilde." "Oh, butch Oscar." "Exactly... big, bearded, bonking, butch Oscar, the terror of the ladies." "114 illegitimate children, world heavyweight boxing champion, and author of the best-selling pamphlet," "Why I Like To Do It With Girls... and Massingbird had him sent down for being a whoopsie." "Ah, Baldrick." " Anything from Mattingburg yet?" " Yes, sir." "It just arrived, sir." " What is it?" " Sponge bag, sir." " A sponge bag?" " Yes, sir." "Baldrick, I gave you two notes." "You sent the note asking for a sponge bag to the finest mind in English legal history." "Certainly did, sir!" "And you sent the note requesting legal representation to... ?" "Well, tally-ho, with a bing and a bong and a buzz-buzz-buzz!" "Oh, God" "I'll tell you first of all, sir, that I am deeply, deeply honoured." "Baldrick, I'll deal with you later." "Am I to understand that you are going to represent me at the court-martial?" "Absolutely, sir." "It's a sort of family tradition." "My uncle's a lawyer, you know." "Your uncle's a lawyer, but you're not." "Oh, good Lord, no." "I'm an absolute duffer at this sort of thing." "In the school debating society," "I was voted the boy least likely to complete a coherent... um..." "Sentence?" "That's it, yes." "But anyway, my dear old friend, it's an honor to serve." "George, I'm in deep trouble here." "I need to construct a case that's as watertight as a mermaid's brassiere." "I'm not sure your particular brand of mindless optimism is going to contribute much to the proceedings." "That's a shame, sir, because I was planning on playing the mindless optimism card very strongly during your trial." "I beg your pardon?" "Yes, I've already planned my closing address based on that very theme." "Oh, go on, let him off, your Honour, please!" "After all, it's a lovely day." "Pretty clouds, trees, birds, et cetera." "I rest my case." "So, Counsel, with that summing up in mind, what do you think my chances are?" "Well, not all that good, I'm afraid, as far as I can tell, you're as guilty as a puppy sitting next to a pile of poo." "Charming." "Crikey!" "So sorry I'm late, my love." "But anyway, let me open my defence straightaway by saying that I've known this man for three years, he's an absolutely corking chap..." " George?" " Yes, sir?" " That's the clerk of the court." " Is it?" "Oh!" "We haven't started yet." " Good luck, Blackadder." " Well, thank you, Darling." "And what's your big job here today?" "Straightening chairs?" "No, in fact I'm appearing for the prosecution." "I wouldn't raise your hopes too much." "You're guilty as hell, you haven't got a chance." "Why, thank you, Darling." "And I hope your mother dies in a freak yachting accident." "Just doing my job, Blackadder." "Obeying orders, and, of course, having enormous fun into the bargain." "I wouldn't be too confident if I were you." "Any reasonably impartial judge is bound to let me off." "Well, absolutely." "Who is the judge, by the way?" "Bailiff!" "I'm dead." "Well, come on, then." "Come on." "We'll get this over in five minutes, and then we can have a spot of lunch." "Right... oohh... ahhh." "The court is now in session," "General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmenay Melchett in the chair." "The case before us Is that of the Crown vs. Captain Edmund Blackadder... the Flanders pigeon murderer!" "Oh, clerk, hand me the black cap, I'll be needing that." "I love a fair trial." "Anything to say before we kick off, Captain Darling?" "May it please the court." "As this is clearly an open and shut case," "I beg leave to bring a private prosecution against the defence counsel for wasting the court's time." "Granted." "The defence counsel is fined fifty pounds for turning up." "This is fun!" "This is just like a real court!" "All right!" "Let the trial begin!" "The charge before us is that the Flanders pigeon murderer..." "did deliberately, callously, and with beastliness of forethought murder a lovely, innocent pigeon!" "And disobeyed some orders as well." "Is this true?" "Perfectly true, sir!" "I was there." "Thanks, George." "Oh, damn!" "Right." "Counsel for the defence, get on with it." "Oh, right, yes, right." "Um, yes." "I'd like to call my first witness," "Captain Darling." "You wish to call the counsel for the prosecution as a defence witness?" "That's right." "Don't worry, sir, I've got it all under control." "Ahem." "You are Captain Darling of the general staff?" "I am." "Captain, leaving aside the incident in question, would you think of Captain Blackadder as the sort of man who would usually ignore orders?" "Yes, I would." "Ah, um." "You sure?" "I was rather banking on you saying "no" there." "I'm sure." "In fact, I have a list of other orders he's disobeyed, if it would be useful." "Mm-hmm." "May 16th, 9:15 am, 10:23 am, 10:24 am, 11:17 am..." "You missed one out there." "...10:30 am... thank you... 11:46 am..." " George!" " Oh, oh, ye-ye... right." "Thank you, Captain." "No further questions." "Well done, George." "You really had him on the ropes." "Don't worry, old man." "I have a last and, I think you'll find, decisive witness." "Call Private Baldrick." "Call Private Baldrick." "Deny everything, Baldrick." "Are you Private Baldrick?" "No!" "Um, but you are Captain Blackadder's batman?" "No!" "Come on, Baldrick., be a bit more helpful, it's me!" "No, it isn't!" "Sir, I must protest!" "Quite right!" "We don't need your kind here, Private." "Get out." "Now, George, sum up, please." "Oh, right, yes, uhhhh..." "Ah, gentlemen, you have heard all the evidence presented before you today, but in the end, it is up to the conscience of your hearts to decide." "And I firmly believe, that, like me, you will conclude that Captain Blackadder is in fact, totally and utterly... guilty." "...of nothing more than trying to do his duty under difficult circumstances." "Nonsense!" "He's a hound and a rutter, and he's going to be shot!" "However, before we proceed to the formality of sentencing the deceased..." "I mean the defendant..." "I think we'd all rather enjoy hearing the case of the prosecution." "Captain Darling, if you please." "Sir, my case is very simple." "I call my first witness," "General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmaney Melchett." "Ah!" "Umm!" "Clever." "Clever!" "General, did you own a lovely, plump, speckily pigeon called Speckled Jim, which you hand-reared from a chick and which was your only childhood friend?" "Yes!" "Yes, I did." "And did Captain Blackadder shoot the aforementioned pigeon?" "Yes, he did!" "Can you see Captain Blackadder anywhere in this courtroom?" "!" "That's him!" "That's the man!" "Ahhhh!" "No more questions, sir." "Splendid, excellent, first-class." "Clear the way, man." "I therefore have absolutely no hesitation in announcing that the sentence of this court is that you," "Captain Edmund Blackadder, be taken from this place and suffer death by shooting tomorrow at dawn." "Do you have anything to say?" "Yes, could I have an alarm call, please?" "Chap here to see the captain." "What does he look like?" "Short, ugly..." "Hello, Baldrick." "I brought you some food, sir, for your final breakfast tomorrow." "Ah, so you're not pinning much hope on a last-minute reprieve, then." "No sir, you are as dead as some doo-doos." "The expression, Baldrick, is "as a dodo"..." "Dead as a dodo." "Well, I'll leave you to it then, shall I?" "Do not despair, sir." "All my talk of food was just a dead herring." "In fact, I have a cunning plan." "This is not food, but an escape kit." "Good Lord!" "With a saw, a hammer, a chisel, a gun, a change of clothes, a Swiss passport, and a huge false moustache, I may just stand a chance." "Ah." "Let's see, what have we here?" "A small painted wooden duck." "Yeah, I thought if you get caught near water, you can balance it on the top of your head as a brilliant disguise." "Yeeeesss." "I would, of course, have to escape first." "Ah, but what's this?" "Unless I'm much mistaken, a hammer and a chisel." "You are much mistaken!" "A pencil and a miniature trumpet." "Yes, a pencil so you can drop me a postcard to tell me how the break-out went, and a small little tiny miniature trumpet in case, during your escape, you have to win favour with a difficult child." "Baldrick, I don't want to spend my last precious hours rummaging through this feeble collection of stocking-fillers." "Let me ask you some simple questions:" "Is there a saw in this bag?" " No." " A hammer?" " No." " A chisel?" " No." " A gun?" " No." "A false passport?" "No." "A change of clothes?" "Yes sir, of course, I wouldn't forget a change of clothes." "Ah, well, that's something." "Let's see..." "A Robin Hood costume." "Yeah, I put in a French peasant's outfit first," "But then I thought, what if you arrive in in a French peasant's village and they're in the middle of a fancy dress party?" "'" "And what if I arrive in a French peasant village, dressed in a Robin Hood costume and there "isn't" a fancy dress party?" "Well, to be quite frank sir," "I didn't consider that eventuality, because if you did, you'd stick out like a..." "Like a man standing in a lake with a small painted wooden duck on his head?" "Exactly!" "Excuse me, sir." "All right, um, thank you, Baldrick, we'll finish this picnic later." "Yum yum!" "Do you mind if I disturb you for a moment, sir?" "No, no, not at all." "My diary's pretty empty this week." "Let's see, Thursday morning, get shot..." "Yes, that's about it, actually." "It's just there's a few chaps out here would like a bit of a chinwag." "Oh, lovely." "Always keen to meet new people." "Corporal Jones, and Privates Frazier, Robinson, and Tipperwick." "Hello." "Well, nice of you to drop by." "And what do you do?" "We're your firing squad, sir." "Of course you are." " Good sized chest." " Shut up, lad." "You see, us firing squads are a bit like tax men, sir, everyone hates us, but we're just doin' our job, ain't we, lads?" "My heart bleeds for you." "Well, sir, we aim to please." "Just a little firing squad joke there, sir!" "You see, sir, we take pride in the terminatory service we supply." "So, is there any particular area you'd like us to go for, hmm?" "We can aim anywhere." "Well, in that case, just above my head might be a good spot." "You see, a laugh and a smile, and all of a sudden the job doesn't seem quite so bad after all, does it, sir?" "No, it's a lovely roomy forehead." "A good pulse and jugular there as well." "Look, I'm sorry, I know you mean to be friendly, but I hope you won't take it amiss if I ask you to sod off and die." "No, no, no, no, no, no, fair enough, 'course not, sir." "No one likes being shot first thing in the morning, do they?" "So, look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sir." "You'll have a blindfold on of course, but you'll recognize me." "I'm the one that says, "Ready, aim, fire! "" "Could I ask you to leave a pause between the word "aim" and the word "fire"?" "Thirty or forty years, perhaps?" "Ah, wish I could pause, sir, I really wish I could, but I can't, you see, 'cos I'm a gabbler, you see." "Ready-aim-fire!" "No style, no finesse..." "But it gets the job done, don't it, lads?" "Come on, lads." "Whoever gets closest to the mole gets to keep his gold teeth." " Good night, sir." " Sleep well, sir." "Perfect!" "I wonder if anything on earth could depress me more?" "Excuse me, sir?" "Of course it could." "I forgot to give you this letter from Lieutenant George, sir." "Ahh!" "Oh, joy!" "What wise words from the world's greatest defence counsel?" "Dear Mother..." "Hmm, unusual start." "Thanks for the case of Scotch." "You've excelled yourself, Baldrick." "You've brought the wrong letter again." "Ohh yeah, he did write two." "Yes, his mother's about to get a note telling her he's sorry she's going to be shot in the morning, while I have to read this drivel." "Hope Celia thrives in the pony club trials, and that "little Freddy scores a century for the first eleven"." "You can't deny, it's a riveting read." "Uhhh, "Send my love to Uncle Rupert, who'd have thought it, mad Uncle Rupert, Minister of War with power of life and death over every bally soldier in the army." "Hang on a minute..." "This is it!" "All George has to do is send him a telegram and he'll get me off." "Baldrick, I love you!" "I want to kiss your cherry lips and nibble your shell-like ears!" "I'm freeeee!" "I'm useless, useless!" "Sir, sir!" "Hello Private, how's the captain?" "He's absolutely fine, sir, but..." "You're just trying to cheer me up." "I know the truth." "He hates me because I completely arsed up his defence." "Yes, I know, sir..." "Because I'm thick, you see." "I'm as thick as the big-print version of the complete works of Charles Dickens." "If only I could've saved him." "If only!" "But you can, sir." "What, how?" "You send a telegram." "Of course!" "I send a telegram!" "Yeah!" " Who to?" " To the person in the letter." " What letter?" " To your mother." "I send a telegram to my mother?" "!" " No!" " No!" "You send a telegram to the person in the letter to your mother." "Who was in the letter to my mother?" "I can't remember!" " Well, think, think!" " No, "you" think think!" "Celia, of course!" "The pony club trials... yes!" "Celia could leap over the walls of the prison and save him!" "No, no!" "No, no, um... cricket!" "Yes, I've got Cousin Freddie, of course." "He could knock out the firing squad with his cricket bat!" "No, there's someone else!" " Well, who?" "!" " I don't know!" " Well, neither do I!" " Well, think, think!" " "You think," sir!" " I'm stuck!" " No, it hasn't helped." " Yes it has, sir." "Your Uncle Rupert who's just been made Minister of War." "Of course!" "Uncle Rupert's just been made the Minister of War!" "Baldrick, I'll, I'll send him a telegram and he'll pull strings and scratch backs and fiddle with knobs, and get the captain off!" "Hurray!" "Well, I got there in the end, eh Baldrick?" "Oh, just about, sir." "I think this calls for a celebration, don't you?" "What about a tot of Old Morehen's Shredded Sporum, which Mummsy's just sent over?" "I think a toast, don't you, to Captain Blackadder and freedom!" "Captain Blackadder and freedom, sir." " 'Morning." " 'Morning, sir." "I must say, Captain, I've got to admire your balls." "Perhaps later." "So boys, how are you doing?" "Very well, good." " Robinson, good to see you." " Good to see you, too, sir." "Ah, Corporal, how's the voice?" "Excellent, sir." "Ready-aim-fire!" "Wait for it, "wait" for it." "So the phone's on the hook, isn't it, Perkins?" "Oh yes, sir." "So, where do you want me?" "Well, up against the wall is traditional, sir." "Of course it is." "Ah, this side or the other side?" "No messengers waiting, Perkins?" "Oh, I'm afraid not, sir." "Fair enough, fair enough." "All right, lads, line up." "Yes, ahh..." "Now, look, I think there's a bit of a misunderstanding, you see, I was expecting a telegram." "Attention!" "An important one, actually." "Take aim!" "Stop!" "I think that's what they call 'The nick of time'." "Message for you, Captain." "Of course it is." "Read it, please." "Here's looking at you." "Love from all the boys in the firing squad." "You soft bastards, you!" "I saw the card, I couldn't resist it." "How thoughtful!" "Attention!" "Now, look, something has gone spectacularly, badly wrong." "Take aim!" "Baldrick, you're mincemeat!" "Corporal: f..." "Oh, my head!" "Oh, my head!" "Feels like the time I was initiated into the Silly Buggers Society at Cambridge." "I misheard the rules and pushed a whole oberjing into my earhole." "Permission to die, sir." "Bu-bu-bu-what started this drinking?" "Oh, yes, well, we were celebrating getting Captain Blackadder off scot-f-f-f-free." "Oh, my sainted trousers, we forgot!" "Oh, whoops." "Oh, no!" "Now he's dead, you see." "He's dead dead dead, because we're a pair of selfish so-and-so's!" "Oh, God, if I had a rope," "I'd put it around my neck and bally-well hang myself until it "really" hurt." "Hi, George." "'Morning, Baldrick." "Still the striking resemblance to guppies fish at feeding time." "Yep, it arrived in the nick of time." "Oh, excellent!" "Ah, so you've got the Scotch out, anyway?" "Oh, well, well, of course, sir," "We wanted to lay on a bit of a bash for your safe return." "Ah... here you go." "There was a second telegram that arrived actually, George, addressed to you personally by your uncle." "Oh, thank you, I..." "George, my boy, outraged to read in dispatches of how that ass Melchett made such a pigs-ear of your chum Blackadder's court-martial." "Have reversed the decision forthwith." "Surprised you didn't ask me to do it yourself, actually." "Now this is interesting, isn't it?" "Uh, uh, yes, well, you see, sir, the thing is..." "You two got whammed last night, didn't you?" "Well, well, no, not "whammed" exactly." "A little tiddly, perhaps." "And you forgot the telegram to your uncle!" "Well, n-n-n-no, not, not, completely, I mean, um, partially..." "Umm... well..." "Yes, yes, entirely." "I think I can explain, sir." "Can you, Baldrick?" "No." "As I suspected." "Now, I'm not a religious man, as you know, but henceforth, I shall nightly pray to the God that killed Cain and squashed Samson, that he comes out of retirement and gets back into practice on the pair of you!" "Captain Blackadder." "Ah, Captain Darling." "Well, you know, some of us just have friends in high places," "I suppose." "Yes, I can hear you perfectly." "You want what?" "You want two volunteers for a mission into No Man's Land..." "Code name:" "Operation Certain Death." "Yes, yes, I think I have just the fellows." "God is very quick these days." "Eyes, right!" "Eyes, right!" "You a bit cheesed off, sir?" "George, the day this war began" "I was cheesed off." "Within ten minutes of you turning up," "I finished the cheese and moved on to the coffee and cigars." "And at this late stage," "I'm in a cab with two lady companions on my way to the Pink Pussycat in Lower Regency." "Oh, because if you are cheesed off, you know what would cheer you up?" "And that's a Charlie Chaplin film." "Oh, I love old Chappers, don't you, Cap?" "Unfortunately, no, I don't." "I find his films about as funny as getting an arrow through the neck and then discovering there's a gas bill tied to it." "Ah, beg pardon, sir, but come off!" "His films are ball-bouncingly funny." "Rubbish!" "All right, let's consult the men for a casting vote." " Baldrick?" " Sir!" "Charlie Chaplin, Baldrick." "What do you make of him?" "Oh sir, he's as funny as a vegetable that's grown into a rude and amusing shape, sir." "So you agree with me." "Not at all funny." "Oh come on, Skipper, play fair." "In that last film of his, when he kicked that fellow in the backside," "I thought I'd die!" "Well, if that's your idea of comedy, we can provide our own without expending a ha'penny for the privilege." "There, did you find that funny?" "Well, no of course not, sir, but you see, Chaplin is a genius." "He certainly is a genius, George." "He invented a way of getting paid a million dollars a year for wearing a pair of stupid trousers." "Did you find that funny, Baldrick?" "What funny, sir?" "That funny." "No sir, and you mustn't do that to me sir, because that is a bourgeois act of repression, sir." "What?" "Haven't you smelt it sir?" "There's something afoot in the wind." "The huddled masses yearning to be free." "Baldrick, have you been to the diesel oil again?" "No, sir, I've been supping the milk of freedom." "Already our Russian comrades are poised on the brink of revolution." "And here too, sir, the huddled what's-names, such as myself, sir, are ready to throw off the hated oppressors like you and the lieutenant." "Present company excepted, sir." "Go and clean out the latrines." "Yes sir, right away, sir." "Now, the reason why Chaplin is so funny is because he's part of the great British music hall tradition." "Oh yes, the great British music hall tradition." "Two men with incredibly unconvincing cockney accents, going, "What's up with you, then?"" "What's up with me, then?" "Yeah, what's up with you, then?" "I'll tell you what's up with me..." "I'm right round off, that's what's up with me." "Get on with it!" "Now, sir, that was funny!" "You should go on the boards yourself!" "Thank you, George, but if you don't mind," "I'd rather have my tongue beaten wafer-thin by a steak tenderizer and then stapled to the floor with a croquet hoop." "Sir, sir, it's all over the trenches!" "Well, mop it up then." "No, sir, the news!" "The Russian Revolution has started." "The masses have risen up and shuttled their nobs!" "Well, hurrah!" "Oh, no, the bloody Russians have pulled out of the war." "Well, we soon saw them off, didn't we sir?" "Miserable slant-eyed, sausage-eating swine." "The Russians are on "our" side, George." "Are they?" "And they've abandoned the eastern front." "And they've overthrown Nicholas II who used to be bizarre." "Who used to be "the" czar, Baldrick." "The point is that now the Russians have made peace with the Kaiser, at this very moment, over three quarters of a million Germans are leaving the Russian front and coming over here with the express purpose of using my nipples for target practice." "There's only one thing for it," "I'm going to have to desert, and I'm going to do it right now." "Are you leaving us, Blackadder?" "No, sir." "Well, I'm relieved to hear it, because I need you to help me shoot some deserters later on." "There have been subversive mutterings amongst the men." "You'll recall the French army last year at Verdun where the top echelons suffered from horrendous uprisings from the bottom." "Yes sir, but surely that was traced to a shipment of garlic eclairs." "Nonsense, Blackadder!" "It was bolshiness..." "plain bolshiness!" "And now that the Ruskies have followed suit," "I'm damned if I'm gonna let the same thing happen here." "Oh, and what are you going to do about it, sir?" "We're going to have a concert party to boost the men's morale." "A concert party." "Well, hurrah!" "You fancy an evening at a concert party, Blackadder?" "Well, frankly sir, I'd rather spend an evening on top of a stepladder in No-Man's Land smoking endless cigarettes through a luminous balaclava." "Yes, I didn't think it would be quite your cup of tea." "But I do need someone to help me organize it, you know." "Obviously not a tough, grizzled soldier like yourself, but some kind of damp-eyed nancy-boy who'd be prepared to spend the rest of the war in the London Palladium." "The show's going to the London Palladium, sir?" "Oh, yes, of course." "It's no good crushing a revolution over here only to get back home to Blighty and find that everyone's wearing overalls and breaking wind in the palaces of the mighty." "Good point, sir." "Now, the thing is, Blackadder, finding a man to organize a concert party is going to be damn difficult." "So, I've come up with rather a cunning set of questions with which to test the candidate's suitability for the job." "And what sort of questions would these be, sir?" "Well, the first question is," "Do you like Charlie Chaplin?" "Ah." "Dismissed, Lieutenant." "Do you like Charlie Chaplin?" "Yes, that is a good question for a candidate, to which my answer would of course be" "Yes, I love him." "Love him, sir, particularly the amusing kicks." "But, sir, I thought you said..." "Goodbye, George." "And the second question is," "Do you like music hall?" "Ah, yes, another good question, sir." "Again, my answer would have to be" "Yes, absolutely love it." "# Oops, Mr. Rothschild, 'ows yer apples and pears #" "Umm, yes." "Well, it's my view, Blackadder, that the kind of person who would answer "yes" to both questions would be ideal for the jo..." "Wait a minute!" "What, sir?" "Why, without knowing it, Blackadder, you've inadvertently shown me that "you" could do the job." "Have I, sir?" "Yes, sir!" "You have, sir!" "And I want you to start work straightaway." "A couple of shows over the weekend, and if all goes well, we'll start you off in London next Monday." "Oh, damn." "If you need any help fetching and carrying, backstage and so on," "I'll lend you my driver if you like." "Bob!" "Driver Parkhurst reporting for duty, sir!" "All right, at ease, Bob, stand easy." "Captain Blackadder, this is Bob." "Bob?" "Good morning, sir." "Unusual name for a girl." "Well, yes, it would be an unusual name for a girl, but it's a perfectly straightforward name for a young chap like you, eh, Bob?" "Now, Bob, I want you to bunk up with Captain Blackadder for a couple of days, all right?" "Yes, sir." "I think you'll find Bob just the man for this job, Blackadder." "He has a splendid sense of humour." "He, sir?" "He?" "He?" "You see, you're laughing already!" "Well, Bob, I'll leave you two together." "Why don't you get to know each other, play a game of cribbage, have a smoke, something like that." "They tell me that Captain Blackadder has rather a good line in rough shag." "I'm sure he'd be happy to fill your pipe." "Carry on." "So you're a "chap," are you, Bob?" "Oh, yes, sir." "You wouldn't say you were a girl at all?" "Oh, definitely not, sir." "I understand cricket, I fart in bed, everything." "Let me put it another way, Bob." "You are a girl, and you're a girl with as much talent for disguise as a giraffe in dark glasses trying to get into a "Polar Bears Only" golf club." "Oh, sir, please don't give me away, sir." "I just wanted to be like my brothers and join up." "I want to see how a war is fought, so badly." "Well, you've come to the right place, Bob." "A war hasn't been fought this badly since Olaf the Hairy, high chief of all the Vikings, accidentally ordered 80,000 battle helmets with the horns on the "inside"" "I want to do my bit for the boys, sir." "Oh, really?" "I'll do anything, sir!" "Yes, I'd keep that to yourself, if I was you." "All right Bob, the second half starts with" "Corporals Smith and Johnson as the three silly twerps." "All right, sir." "The big joke being there's only two of them." "Ha ha!" "I love that!" "That always cracks me up, sir." "Followed by Baldrick's impersonation of Charlie Chaplin." "Yes." "Bob, take a telegram." "Mr. C. Chaplin, Sennett Studios, Hollywood, California." "Congrats." "Stop." "Have discovered only person in world less funny than you." "Stop." "Name, Baldrick." "Stop." "Yours, E ." "Blackadder." "Stop." "Oh, and put a P.S." "Please, please, "please" stop." "And then after that we have, ladies and gentlemen, the highlight of our show..." "Da-daaa..." "I feel fantastic!" "Gorgeous Georgina, the traditional soldier's drag act." "You look absolutely lovely, sir." "Baldrick, you are either lying, blind or mad." "The lieutenant looks like all soldiers look on these occasions, about as feminine as W.G. Grace." "What are you gonna give 'em, George?" "Well, I thought one or two cheeky gags, followed by "She Was Only The Ironmonger's Daughter," ""But She Knew A Surprising Amount About Fish, As Well"" "Inspired." "Well, at least you made an effort with the dress." "What about your costume, Baldrick?" "I'm in it, sir." "I see." "So your Charlie Chaplin costume consists of that hat." "Yes, sir, except that in this box," "I have a dead slug as a brilliant false moustache." "Yes, only "quite" brilliant, I fear." "How, for instance, are you to attach it to your face?" "Well, I was hoping to persuade the slug to cling on, sir." "Baldrick, the slug is dead." "If it failed to cling on to life," "I see no reason why it should wish to cling on to your upper lip." "Baldrick, Baldrick, come over here." "Slugs are always a problem." "What you've got to do is screw your face up like this, you see, and then you can clamp it between your top lip and your nose." "What?" "Like this, sir?" "That's it." "Splendid!" "Sir, sir, there's a visitor to see you." "Good Lord..." "Mr. Chaplin!" "This is indeed an honor." "Why, it calls for some sort of celebration." "Baldrick, Baldrick!" "Sir, that is extraordinary, because..." "Because, you see, this isn't Chaplin at all... this "is" Baldrick!" "Yes, it's me, sir!" "I know, I know." "I was, in fact, being sarcastic." "Oh, I see." "Everything goes above your head, doesn't it, George?" "You should go to Jamaica and become a limbo dancer." "They love him, sir." "We're a hit!" "Yes, in one short evening, I've become the most successful impresario since the manager of the Roman Coliseum thought of putting the Christians and the lions on the same bill." "Sir, some people seem to think that I was best!" "Would you agree?" "Baldrick, in the Amazonian rain forests, there are tribes of Indians as yet untouched by civilization who have developed more convincing Charlie Chaplin impressions than yours." "Thank you very much, sir." "He's coming off." "What do you think, Bob, one more?" "God, I love the theatre!" "It's in my blood and in my soul!" "Baldrick, put those in some water, will you?" "Yes, sir." "I need that applause in the same way that an ostler needs his... ostle." "Well done, sir!" "No, really, I was hopeless." "I mean, tell me honestly, sir," " I was, wasn't I?" " Well..." "Come on, sir, out with it, I was hopeless, wasn't I?" "You're trying to be nice and that's very sweet of you, but sir, please, I can take it, I was hopeless." "George, you were bloody awful." "But you can't argue with the box office." "Personally, I thought you were the least convincing female impressionist since Tarzan went through Jane's handbag and ate her lipstick." "But I'm clearly in a minority." "Look out London, here we come!" "Ah, Captain Darling." "Ah, Captain Blackadder." "I must say, I had an absolutely splendid evening." "Oh, glad you enjoyed the show." "The show?" "I didn't go to the show." "Important regimental business." "A lorry load of paper clips arrive?" "Two lorry loads, actually." "Ah..." "Welcome to the great director..." "Maestro!" "You enjoyed it, sir?" "Well, it was mostly awful, but I enjoyed the slug balancer." "Ah!" "Private Baldrick, sir." "That's right, yes." "The slug fell off a couple of times, but you can't have everything, can you?" "I'd just suggest a bit more practice and perhaps a little sparkly costume for the slug." "I'll pass that on, sir." "But I do have certain other reasons for believing the show to be nothing but a triumph." "Captain Darling has your travel arrangements, ticket to Dover, rooms at the Ritz and so forth." "Thank you, sir." "However, there is one small thing you might do for me." "Yes?" "Captain Blackadder, I should esteem it a signal honor if you would allow me to escort your leading lady to the regimental ball this evening." "My leading lady?" "The fair Georgina." "Ah, ha-ha, very amusing." "You think she'd laugh in my face?" "I'm too old, too crusty?" "Uh, no, no." "It's just that as her director, I'm afraid I could not allow it." "I could always find another director who "would" allow it." "Quite." "I'll see what I can do, but I must insist that she be home by midnight and that there be no hanky-panky, sir, whatsoever." "I shall, of course, respect your wishes, Blackadder." "However I don't think you need to be quite so protective." "I'm sure she's a girl with a great deal more spunk than most women you'll find." "Oh, dear me." "Absolutely not, sir." "It's profoundly immoral, and utterly wrong." "I will not do it." "We can always find another leading lady." "Well, the dress will need a clean." "Excellent." "Now, the important thing is that Melchett should, under no circumstances, realize that you're a man." "Yes, yes, I understand that." "In order to ensure this, there are three basic rules." "One, you must never..." "I repeat, never... remove your wig." "All right." "Second, never say anything." "I'll tell him at the beginning of the evening that you're saving your voice for the opening night in London." "Excellent, sir." "And what's the third?" "The third is most important..." "Don't get drunk and let him shag you on the veranda." "How do I look, Darling?" "Girl-bait, sir." "Pure bloody girl-bait." "Moustache bushy enough?" "Like a private hedge, sir." "Good, because I want to catch a particularly beautiful creature in this bush tonight." "I'm sure you'll be combing women out of your moustache for weeks, sir." "God, it's a spankingly beautiful world, and tonight's my night." "I know exactly what I'll say to her." "Darling..." "Yes, sir?" "What?" "Um, I don't know, sir." " Well, don't butt in!" " Sorry, sir." "I want to make you happy, darling." "Well, that's very kind of you, sir." "Will you kindly stop interrupting!" "If you don't listen, how can you tell me what you think?" "I want to make you happy, darling." "I want to build a nest for your ten tiny toes." "I want to cover every inch of your gorgeous body in pepper, and then sneeze all over you." "Really, sir, I must protest!" "What is the "matter" with you, Darling?" "Well, it's all so sudden," "I mean, the nest bit's fine, but the pepper business is definitely out!" "How dare you tell me how I may or may not treat my beloved Georgina!" "Georgina?" "Yes, I'm working on what I want to say to her this evening." "Oh, yes." "Of course." "Thank God." "All right?" "Yes, I'm listening, sir." "Honestly darling, you really are the most graceless, dimwitted bumpkin I ever met." "I don't think you should say that to her." "Where the hell's that George?" "It's three o'clock in the morning, he should be careful wandering the trench at night with nothing to protect his honor but a cricket box." "Hello, Captain." "About time!" "Where the hell have you been?" "Well I don't know, it's all been like a dream, my very first ball." "The music, the dancing, the champagne..." "My mind is a mad whirl of half-whispered conversations, with a promise of indiscretion ever hanging in the air." "Oh, did that old stoat Melchett try for a snog behind the fruit cup?" "Certainly not!" "The general behaved like a perfect gentleman." "We tired the moon with our talking about everything and nothing." "The war, marriage, proposed changes to the LBW rule." "Melchett isn't married, is he?" "No, no, all his life, he's been waiting to meet the perfect woman." "And at last, tonight, he did." "Some poor unfortunate had old walrus-face dribbling in her ear all evening, did she?" "Well yes, as a matter of fact I did have to drape a napkin over my shoulder." "George, are you trying to tell me that "you" are the general's perfect woman?" "Well, yes, I rather think I am." "Well, thank God the horny old blighter didn't ask you to marry him." "He did?" "!" "Well, how did you get out of that one?" "Well, to be honest, sir, I'm not absolutely certain that I did." "What?" "!" "You don't understand what it was like, sir." "You know, the candles, the music..." "the huge moustache." "I don't know what came over me." "You said "yes?" "!"" "After all, sir, he is a general," "I didn't really feel I could refuse." "He might have had me court-martialed." "Whereas on the other hand, of course, he's going to give you the Victoria Cross when he lifts up your frock on the wedding night and finds himself looking at the last turkey in the shop!" "Yes, I-I-I know it's a mess, but, you see, it got me scriffy, and then when he looked into my eyes and said, "Chipmunk, I love you"..." "Chipmunk?" "!" "It's his special name for me, you see." "He says my nose looks just like a chipmunk's." "Oh, God!" "We're in serious, serious trouble here." "If the general ever finds out that Gorgeous Georgina is, in fact, a strapping six-footer from the rough end of the trench, it could precipitate the fastest execution since someone said," "This Guy Fawkes bloke, do we let him off, or wot?" "Hello?" "Yes, sir." "Straightaway, sir." "That was your fiancé..." "Chipmunk." "He wants to see me." "If I should die, think only this of me..." "I'll be back to get you." "Sir, I can explain everything." "Can you, Blackadder, can you?" "Well..." "No, sir, not really." "I thought not, I thought not." "Who can explain the mysteries of love?" "I'm in love with Georgina, Blackadder." "I'm going to marry her on Saturday and I want you to be my best man." "I don't think that would be a very good idea, sir." "And why not?" "Because there's something wrong with your fiancée, sir." "Oh, my God, she's not Welsh, is she?" "No, sir." "Um, it's a terrible story, but true." "Just a few minutes ago" "Georgina arrived unexpectedly in my trench." "She was literally dancing with joy as though something wonderful had happened to her." "Makes sense." "Unfortunately, she was in such a daze, she danced straight through the trench and out into No Man's Land." "I tried to stop her, but before I could say," "Don't tread on a mine, she trod on a mine." "Well, I say "a mine," it was more a cluster of mines, and she was blown to smithereens, and as she rocketed up into the air, she said something I couldn't quite catch," "something totally incomprehensible to me, something like, "Tell him his little chipmunk will love him forever!"" "It's heartbreaking, sir." "I'm sorry, sir." "Oh, well, can't be helped, can't be helped." "It's jolly bad luck, sir." "Hey ho." "Of course, on top of everything else, without your leading lady, you won't be able to put on a show." "So, no show, no London Palladium." "On the contrary." "I'm simply intending to rename it" "The Georgina Melchett Memorial Show." "Oh no, Georgina was the only thing that made the show come alive." "Apart from her, it was all awful!" "Awful!" "You'll never find another girl like Georgina by tomorrow." "Well, it's funny you should say that, sir, because I think I already have." " Who is she?" " Who is she?" "So, come on, sir, who is she?" "Well, that's the problem." "I haven't a bloody clue!" "The only attractive woman around here is carved out of stone, called "Venus,"" "and is standing in a fountain in the middle of the town square with water coming out of her armpits." "So we're a bit stuck." "Morning, chaps." "Morning, Bob." "You can say that again, George." "We're in the stickiest situation since Sticky the Stick Insect got stuck on a sticky bun." "We are in trouble." "Not any longer, sir!" "May I present my cunning plan." "Don't be ridiculous, Baldrick!" "Can you sing, can you dance?" "Or are you offering to be sawn in half?" "I don't think those things are important in a modern marriage, sir." "I offer simple home cooking." "Baldrick, our plan is to find a new leading lady for our show." "What is your plan?" "My plan is that I will marry General Melchett." "I am "The Other Woman."" "Well, congratulations, Baldrick." "I hope you'll be very happy." "I will, sir, 'cos when I get back from honeymoon," "I will be a member of the aristocracy and you will have to call me "M'Lady."" "What happened to your revolutionary principles?" "I thought you hated the aristocracy." "I'm working to bring down the system from within, sir." "I'm a sort of a frozen horse." "Trojan horse, Baldrick." "Anyway, I can't see what's so stupid about marrying into wealth and money and not having to sleep in a puddle." "Baldrick, no!" "It's the worst plan since Abraham Lincoln said," "Oh, I'm sick of kicking around the house tonight, let's go take in a show." "For a start, General Melchett is in mourning for the woman of his dreams." "He's unlikely to be in the mood to marry a two-legged badger wrapped in a curtain." "Secondly, we are looking for a great entertainer, and you're the worst entertainer since" "St. Paul the Evangelist toured Palestine with his trampoline act." "No, we'll have to find somebody else." "What about Corporal Cartwright, sir?" "Corporal Cartwright looks like an orang-utan." "I've heard of The Bearded Lady, but the All-Over Body Hair Lady frankly just isn't on." " Willis?" " Too short." " Petheridge?" " Too old." "Taplow?" "Too dead." "Oh, this is hopeless." "There just isn't anyone!" "# Goodbyeee, goodbyeee #" "# Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye #" "What am I doing?" "Bob!" "Sir?" "What a brilliant idea!" "Bob, can you think of anyone who can be our leading lady?" "What do you think, Bob, one more?" "No, George, always leave them hungry." "Congratulations, Bob." "I have to admit, I thought you were bloody marvellous." "Permission to slip into something more uncomfortable, sir." "Permission granted." "Oh sir, it's going to be wonderful." "Not just for me, but for my little partner, Graham." "Doing our Charlie Chaplin all 'round the world." "Yes, from Shaftsbury Avenue to the Cote d'Azur, they'll be saying," "I like the little black one, but who's that berk he's sitting on?" "I'm not with you, sir." "No, of course not." "But don't worry, we'll have years" "In luxury hotels for me to explain." "Now you two get packing, get packing." "The boat-train leaves at six, and we're going to be on it." "Blackadder." "Ah, Darling, everything all right?" "Oh, yes." "Got the tickets?" "Oh, yes." "Blackadder?" "Oh, hi, General." "Enjoy the show?" "Don't be ridiculous, the worst evening I've ever spent in my life!" "I'm sorry?" "Will you stand still when I'm talking to you!" "If by a man's works shall ye know him, then you are a steaming pile of horse manure!" "But surely, sir, the show was a triumph." "A triumph?" "!" "The three twerps were one twerp short... gin!" "... the slug balancer seems now to be doing some feeble impression of Buster Keaton..." "And worst of all... the crowning turd in the water pipe... that revolting drag act at the end!" "Drag act?" "Yes, poor Bob Parkhurst's being made to look a total ass!" "With that thin, reedy voice and that stupid effeminate dancing!" "Ahhh" "So the show's cancelled... permanently." "But what about the men's morale, sir, with the Russians out of the war and everything?" "Oh for goodness sake, Blackadder, have you been living in a cave?" "The Americans joined the war yesterday." "So how is that going to improve the men's morale, sir?" "Ohhh, because, you jibbering imbecile, they've brought with them the largest collection" "Of Charlie Chaplin films in existence!" "Oh, I've lost patience with you." "Fill him in, Darling." "Yes, sir." "We received a telegram this morning" "From Mr. Chaplin himself, at Sennett Studios." "Twice-nightly screening of my films in trenches, excellent idea." "Stop." "But must insist E. Blackadder be projectionist." "Stop." "Oh, P.S., don't let him ever... stop." "Oh, great." "No hard feelings, eh, Blackadder?" "Not at all, Darling." "Uh, care for a liquorice alsort?" "Well, thank you."