"Thank you." "Oh!" "Oh, thank you." "Thank you so much." "Thank you." "Thank you." "Good evening." "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to A Bit of Fry And Laurie." "Yes, but not just ladies and gentlemen." "Let's not forget the large number of domestic animals who sit in front of the television while this programme is on." "That's right." "Let's all say hi to the large number of dogs who are with us this evening." "–Mmm." "That was my hello to all the dogs." "I'm sorry if it was too high-pitched for you, ladies and gentlemen." "And while we're at it, let's say a big hi to Marlon Brando." "Marlon, as you probably know, is very much not a dear old friend of ours." "Mmm." "In fact, we've never met him." "No, but if we say hi often enough, he might just think that we've met him, and give one of those sort of embarrassed half smiles that you give to somebody when you're not sure whether or not you know them, you know." "Did you perhaps sit next to them on the train once?" "Are they something to do with your brother-in-law?" "This is pathetic." "You're right." "It is pathetic." "It's undeniably pathetic." "But, ladies and gentlemen and canine pals..." "We're after your help tonight because we aim, in the next half hour, to become big." "So big that even Marlon Brando will know exactly who we are." "Yes, but first of all, it might be helpful if we were to explain exactly what big is." "You see, Stephen and I are both very tall, but we're not very big." "–No." "Whereas, by quite stark contrast," "Mickey Rooney, Prince and Michael J Fox are very short." "But incredibly big!" "So, let's take a look at our big-o-meter, so we can just spell that out." "That's right." "Now, up here, registering 1,009, is Marlon Brando." "And we're down here at 1.4." "And here, registering 108, is the big-ish Tony Gubba." "So, that gives you some idea of the kind of mountain we have to climb." "But with your help, ladies and gentlemen, we can make it." "So let's see if we can't hit 1.5 by the end of the evening, all right?" "Good luck." "–Good luck." "I suppose if I am honest, I use my penis as a sort of car substitute." "You know what makes me really mad?" "It's the fact that we have to pay for it." "Oh, yes!" "Yes, we're the ones who pay for it." "You know, ev-ev-every bit of food we want to eat, we have to pay for it." "The clothes I wear, I paid for them." "It makes me mad." "...and similarly louche places." "Jeremy, I must tell you, I was in Venice last year." "Now, you, I believe, know more about Venice than anybody else in the world." "The Queen of the Adriatic." "Is just one of the things you've been called." "I was strolling through the Rial... to, returning from a walk which had taken in the Santa Maria della Salu... te, and the San Giorgio Roman... o." "–Along the Giudec... ca?" "–Along the Giudec ca, yes." "And I believe I'm right in saying that I counted no less than 97 backpackers." "Backpackers?" "Oh, dear Lord!" "Who were "doing", as I believe the ghastly phrase is, "the Accademia"." "Tourists, you see, tourists." "And I remember thinking they're taking away our Venice." "–The place is absolutely heaving with Germans." "–Yes, and Italians." "The place is absolutely heaving with Italians." "Our Venice is sinking under their weight." "So, you see, I've campaigned for years now to have tourists banned from Venice." "–Have you, have you?" "–Yes, I have, I have." "It sounds very cruel." "Very harsh, I know." "Very... –Deglante?" "–Very deglante." "Thank you, yes." "Yes, but I'm convinced it's the only way." "Ng, ng, ng, ng." "Who was it?" "Who was it who said," ""He is a tourist," ""you are a holidaymaker," ""but I am a traveller."" "Oh." "Now, was it Humbert Wolfe?" "–It was Cocteau, surely." "–Doesn't sound very Cocteau." "But then Cocteau never does, which is how you can always tell it's Cocteau." "True, true, true." "Trouché." "Of course, it's not just Venice." "Oh, good heavens, no." "No, it's not just Venezia." "Venedich." "Veneeez." "No, not by a long stroke." "No, our whole world is being stained." "–Stained." "Stained." "–Stained." "Yes." "Yes, it is." "It is." "–Jeremy?" "–Yes." "I blame television." "I'm sorry, but I do." "Oh, no, television." "No, don't, please." "Oh!" "That fearful, erm..." "Mervyn Bragg." "–Oh, Mervyn Bragg." "Stop it at once." "If I had my way with that Mervyn Bragg..." "No one would be in the least surprised." "Bitch." "I say, this is the most awfully good tarte citron." "Erm?" "Tarte citron." "Oh, the lemon pie, dear." "Yes, yes." "I've always said, you know, that I could never truly be friends with anybody who didn't love lemon pie." "Now, now, Susan." "Now, Susan, don't be sly." "Did you make this yourself?" "Well, let's just say I made it to the shops in time to buy it." "–I knew it." "Marks  Spencer." "–Marks  Spencer." "–M  S. Who else?" "–M  S." "M et S. They are simply amazing, aren't they?" "–Have you tried their new boxer shorts?" "–I haven't, I haven't." "I have." "Delicious." "Oh, oh, and their dips." "Oh, bless me, their dips!" "In my local one, there's a really marvellous primary school." "–A primary school?" "–Yes." "Both mine and my husband's children go there." "Well, of course, in my local one, they've just opened a hospital section." "Have they?" "Oh, yes, yes." "You can go in and have minor operations, everything." "Yes." "Well, at the one near me, you can actually buy weaponry." "–Is that right?" "–It is." "Yes, it is, quite right." "–Mine, too." "–Yes, I actually..." "I bought an F-111 there last week." "It was so fresh, I swear it was made that day." "–Really?" "Really?" "Well, listen, of course, the great thing about them is that if you're not happy with anything, you can always go back and change it." "–Change it, precisely." "–Hello." "–Good morning, madam." "Can I help you?" "I bought these suits for my husband, you see, and I want to return them, please." "Right, you want to exchange them for different suits?" "Oh, no, I don't want different suits." "That wouldn't be any good." "Not now he's dead." "Oh, I'm sorry." "Now, this is the suit he died in." "But I don't think you can tell, can you?" "I think I've managed to get most of it out." "–And when exactly did you buy that suit?" "1947." "I remember the year because that was the year I bought his suits." "–I see." "Yes, and you want a refund, do you?" "–Refund?" "No, no, no, not a refund." "No." "I want my money back." "I see." "Have you got the receipt?" "No." "But the lady will remember me." "What lady?" "Well, the lady who sold them to me, of course." "Well, can you remember what she looked like?" "Well, she was about 65 and..." "I'm afraid that if she was 65 in 1947, she'd be—" "–Ohhh!" "–Ooh!" "Hello!" "Suit fit your husband all right, didn't it?" "Yes, thank you." "And did you enjoy your tea at Lyons Corner House?" "It was lovely, thank you." "He looked so handsome in his uniform." "Ahh." "Still together, are you?" "43 years." "43 years since he last rang me." "Men!" "Oh, they're bastards, aren't they?" "Can't live with them, can't live without them." "Mine can't live at all." "He's dead." "Oh!" "Oh, you'll be wanting your money back, then." "Oh, yes, please." "Yes." "I put it by just in case." "Here you are." "You are a good girl." "£3,12 and six." "Thank you." "Or perhaps the lady would like a replacement?" "No, I told you I wanted my money back." "He means for your husband." "–Oh, goodness!" "Do you do old men?" "–Of course." "What size do you take?" "Five-foot-six, if you have." "Five-foot-six straight or five-foot-six bent?" "–Bent." "–I'll see what we've got." "Yes, you'll like our old men, madam." "They don't smell at all." "Well, they have got a sort of stale manly odour." "Oh!" "What do you think?" "Oh, he's dishy, isn't he?" "–Isn't he?" "–Mind you, you can't tell until you get them home." "Can I change him if I'm not satisfied?" "Bloody women." "They always want to change you." "What makes me really mad is this new drug, ecstasy." "Makes me mad!" "Gary's Bit In The Middle." "All right!" "Hallelujah!" "Yeah!" "How about that?" "I'm really impressed because, you know, even I struggle remembering that." "Well, I did, actually, but I got there in the end." "Well done to you." "What do you do, Paul?" "Thank you for sparing the time." "No problem." "You admire Gary Davies?" "Not much time for that sort of thing." "You should make time, Alan." "A man should unwind." "You don't mind if I call you Alan?" "–Fine with me." "–Good, good." "I just find Sally a bit awkward." "I understand." "Excellent." "Now, then, Alan, I've got your record in front of me here." "It makes impressive reading." "Well, you know, I've knocked about the world a bit." "You certainly have." "But I'd like, if I may, to fill in one or two gaps, take a few side bearings, rough out some contours." "That okay with you?" "Fine." "Okay. '65, '66, you ran guns out of Macao using a refitted Dutch trawler." "I can still smell those damn herring." "In '68, you popped up on the Ivory Coast smuggling refugees out of Nigeria." "The following year, there was that nasty caper with the Rhodesian mining company." "From then on, it's a series of apparently unrelated appearances, working with Uruguayan customs, a supply teacher in Maidstone, crop spraying in Rawalpindi," "Home Secretary in the last Labour government and then a short spell as Nigel Pargetter in The Archers." "–Someone had to do it." "–Oh, yeah, I'm sure." "Okay, now it's my turn, yeah?" "I got to tell you that I don't like being rung up by strange men I've never met before and have files read out at me." "I don't like being asked a lot of questions by men in hats." "Suppose you tell me exactly what is going on and who in blazes you are?" "All right." "We need a man, Alan." "We need a man with exceptional abilities." "A man with a record of success against all the odds." "A man with the courage to try his hand at the impossible." "–Go on." "–We want you, if you can, to sit down and watch an entire episode of The Krypton Factor." "You're out of your mind." "Listen to me, Alan." "It's never been done before." "No one has ever watched an entire programme from start to finish." "Oh, sure, we've all seen bits." "But no one has ever gone the full distance." "If I don't make it, you'll see that Judy's taken care of?" "Of course, Alan." "Of course." "See you in hell." "When I was nine, oh, fewer years ago now than I care to remember, um, um," "my mother told me that in this life one could either be an elf or a pixie." "What she meant by that I fully suppose you may be able all too readily to guess." "But her remarks set me thinking." "And from that moment on, I purposed to be worthy of her admonitions and adviselments" "I suppose I can look back on my whole life as a kind of quest." "A search, a hunt, an interrogation, if you like." "Yesterday was my birthday." "I won't tell you which, because I hate you." "And I celebrated it in fine style, in the company of a cold bottle of Chablis and a couple of prostitutes." "I suppose, in a sense, my quest has come full circle." "Or, rather, my hunt is over and I can rest now." "Well, I hope you enjoyed that." "I'll be here every Tuesday and Thursday, so until the next time, good night and safe journey home." "Come on." "Come on, baby." "Gotcha!" "–Is that you, John?" "–Who else, Peter?" "I was beginning to wonder where the hell—" "Traffic, Peter." "Plain and simple." "That's a bitch, John." "Took the switchback routes wherever I could, but, frankly, the A47 is a car park at the moment." "Damn that ball cock!" "Peter, it's no good blaming the system." "Well, maybe you're right." "So, fill me in." "How's business this A.M.?" "Business has been pretty quiet, John." "Had a couple of noisy ones in stall three earlier on, but mostly it's been quiet." "–Good." "Any calls?" "Yeah, I had one from the maintenance boys about fixing this damn towel rollup." "–And?" "–Can't make it till next Tuesday." "–Damn!" "–That's what I said, John." "Damn, blast, triple damn with an extra side order of damn!" "Yep, said that as well." "How can they expect us to run a public lavatory complex without adequate maintenance backup?" "Beats me, John." "They said they'd give it top priority, but—" "Top priority, my arse!" "Just a lot of hot air, Peter." "–I know, John." "Our clients can't be expected to dry their hands with hot air." "Well, actually, John—" "No, Peter, Peter, don't start on that electric hand dryer business again." "I read your report." "It was good work, but now is not the time." "Not the time." "I wonder if you'd have used a phrase like that back when we were running the health club?" "Peter, Marjorie won, pure and simple." "It wasn't a fair fight, I grant you, but that's it." "Over." "You don't have to throw Marjorie in my face, John." "I'm sorry, Peter, but damn it, we've got a chance here to build the finest public amenity system Uttoxeter has ever known." "Damn it, John, when?" "What's the time frame?" "Only a fool would answer that question, Peter." "A month, maybe 12, I don't know." "You know, John, every day when I leave the house, Sarah kisses me on the cheek." "Sarah?" "But your wife's Nancy, surely?" "Yeah, Sarah's the au pair." "She helps out with a lot of Nancy's chores." "She kisses me on the cheek and damn it, John, if there aren't tears in her eyes." "Peter, I know it's hard." "Kids get a rough time at school, you know." "Oh, yes." "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" ""Sherman's dad is a lavatory attendant."" "Don't ever say that, Peter!" "The Peter I know, that Peter, that one there, him, yeah, he's nobody's lavatory attendant." "He is an equal partner in an enterprise that is going to put Uttoxeter's sanitation well into the 21st century." "Damn it, John!" "The shame." "Peter, listen up now and listen up good." "What you're doing here is for Nancy and the kids." "Every time you refill one of these soap dispensers, it's for them." "Every time you pluck a cigarette end out of that urinal, it's for them." "Every time you unclog a U-bend with your bare hands, it's for them." "–Damn it, John, maybe you're right." "–You bet I'm right." "So, now, let's go to work." "Right, shoot." "–Paper in every stall?" "–Check." "–Evacuation points cleaned?" "–Check." "–Even under the rim?" "–Even under the rim." "–Mirrors polished?" "–Till you can see your face in them." "Good work." "I had to close off this urinal here momentarily for cleaning purposes, and, as you know, in this business when that happens, the weak go to the wall." "–Did you stop them?" "–No problem." "Good morning, sir." "Is this your first visit to our facility?" "In which case, you will be pleased to know that the full-relief service cubicles are situated to your right." "The quick-service stalls are this way, sir." "Thank you for your custom, sir." "Damn." "Damn it!" "Damn it, Peter, we're still not attracting the right kind of client." "I know, John." "A lot of the more desirable punters are going next door." "Well, why in hell's name aren't they coming here?" "Because they're women, John." "Damn it all, Peter." "I want you to go there and find out who's running next door's operation." "I already know who's running next door's operation, John." "It came as quite a surprise, I can tell you." "No." "No." "No, Peter." "I don't want to hear this." "Yep, you guessed it." "It's Marjorie, all right." "Damn!" "–Good evening." "I am Robert Robinson." "–And my name is Robert Robinson." "Ah, we are..." "The Robert Robinsons." "This is our hour." "That much is certain." "Though tish, ah, nay, hush and fourpence, Mr Dwyer." "And an extra point for being so clever." "Would that it were, would that it were." "Ah, indeed." "Would that it were, Mr Charteris." "Would that it were." "Ah, now here's a thing that put pish and tish." "I have a letter from a Mr Colin Elgood of Carshalton Beeches, who tells me that he always turns his carrier bags inside out so as not to give free advertising to Mr Sainsbury and men of his ilk." "–Nay, men of his stamp." "–Men of his ilk, stamp and kidney." "Your answer is better, Mr Meredith." "So much better, but wrong, sadly wrong." "And an extra mark for being so clever." "Ah, someone has plumped." "Someone has plumped." "Go on, Mr Harris, have a plump, too." "But hish and tusk, it only now remains for me to declare the Twee family winners of our little game." "An extra point followed by this round of applause." "But, ah, the pity, the pity of it." "Time, our old enemy, comes round again." "Ah, nish, tussock, flip and fourpence." "–We bid you goodbye." "–We bid you farewell." "But our hish, bish, starp and trivock, not for long." "Not for long." "Goodbye." "And do you know what makes me really mad?" "It's this belief that I'm John the Baptist." "Well, the thing..." "Oh, Christ, I've left the iron on." "–Hello, Control." "–Hello, Tony." "I'll be with you in a minute." "I say, Control, that's rather a splendid device." "Where did you get that, if you don't mind my prying into your affairs?" "I don't mind at all, Tony." "After all, you're only human." "That's right, Control, I am." "It's my birthday today and this was a present from my sister Marie." "I didn't know you had a sister called Marie, Control." "Well, Marie is actually a codename I've invented for her to prevent people from discovering her real name." "Ah, well, that's cleared up that little confusion." "Her real name is Maria." "You are a wily old fox, Control." "Anyway, this contraption is called a telescupe." "Telescupe?" "Yes, though I ought to point out that that's also a codename." "Say no more, Control." "Hush-hush." "Absolutely, though I don't think I'd be speaking out of school if I said that this device allows you to see quite clearly over quite a long distance." "Here, have a go." "Control, I don't know what to say." "Don't mention it, Tony." "Have a look at that man there, next to the telephone kiosk." "Gosh, Control, you weren't exaggerating when you said it allowed you to see things quite clearly over a long distance." "That man could almost be in the room with us." "That's a true thing to say." "But here's where the telescupe comes in because, Tony?" "–Mmm?" "–That man isn't in the room with us." "Well, I thought he wasn't in the room with us, Control, but I must say it's nice to have it confirmed by you." "He's actually on the other side of the street." "Yes, Control, he's looking this way and..." "Wait a minute." "That man is looking at us with a telescupe." "Yes." "It's my theory, Tony, that he's an enemy agent charged with the task of keeping us under surveillance." "What a confounded cheek, Control." "I've a good mind to fetch a policeman and have him moved on." "Steady on, Tony, I've got a better plan." "Valerie was kind enough to go outside and find out the number of the kiosk." "Control, that man is going into the kiosk and he's lifted up the receiver." "Hello, enemy agent?" "It's Control here." "Very well, thank you." "Could you stop keeping us under surveillance, please?" "Thank you." "Control, your plan is working." "He's getting into a car and driving away." "Another small but significant victory for our side." "Congratulations, Control." "Now, you run along and get a nice cup of coffee, and we'll pretend this whole ugly incident never took place." "–I can go one better than that, Control." "–Oh?" "♫ Happy birthday to Control Happy birthday to Control ♫" "Oh, get along with you." "Aren't you going to open it, then?" "Bo!" "Ladies and gentlemen, some very exciting news." "Yes, absolutely." "We have, ladies and gentlemen, hit 1.6 on the big-o-meter." "You, um... you remember we told you earlier about the large number of dogs that watch us here on A Bit of Fry and Laurie?" "Yes, well, we're happy to say that Irene, a red setter who lives in Lytham St Anne's way down in..." "Surrey, is it?" "–Sussex, Lancashire..." "–Devon, Wiltshire..." "Somewhere like that, anyway." "Now, Irene watches A Bit of Fry and Laurie every week, but in the last half hour she's had five puppies." "And the consequent boost to our viewing figures has pushed us right up into the high ones." "–Yes." "–So, there we are." "So, we are now, then, ladies and gentlemen, officially big!" "Too big, I fear, to perform our own sketches any more." "That's right." "Yes, our last sketch this evening is going to be performed for us by a pair of young South American actors." "That's right." "We're just going to sit here and enjoy a drink while the sketch is done for us by..." "well, servants really." "–Servants." "Yes, yes." "–Yes." "–It's nice being big, isn't it?" "–I love being big." "–Big." "–Yes." "–Come on, off you go." "–Yep." "Hello, Mr Doli." "Hello." "What can I do for you on this lovely day?" "Well, you know I lent you my lawnmower some time ago?" "Yes." "Could I have it back, please?" "But I haven't wiped it yet." "Oh, dear." "How long will it take you to wipe it?" "Well, if I'm going to wipe it properly, about two weeks." "Yours is very good, isn't he?" "Oh, he's marvellous, a godsend." "I don't know what I'd do without him." "–No, I don't blame you, I don't blame you." "–Marvellous." "–Oh, wait a minute." "It's coming through." "–This could be it." "Manuel, Fernandez, if you'd like to bow to the audience and then off you go." "We won't need you any more." "–Yep." "Thank you." "–All right?" "Bow to the audience." "Now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for." "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are now being joined live by satellite by Mr Marlon Brando!" "Yes!" "–Oh, yes!" "How exciting." "Hello there, good evening, Marlon." "How are you doing, my man?" "–Bit quiet, isn't he?" "–No, no, Hugh." "Not quiet, never quiet." "Merely sullen, brooding, and possessed of an intense silent charisma." "–Quiet." "–Yes." "Marlon, do you know who you're talking to here?" "Do you know who we are?" "–He's still not moving his lips, Stephen." "–When you're as big as Marlon, you don't have to move your lips." "You get someone else to move them for you." "–Like we have people doing our..." "–Our sketches, yes." "That's right." "Marlon, Marlon, it's the biggies talking." "You know who we are?" "Good evening to you." "Well, good evening to you, sir." "Hey, you're Little and Large, right?" "–Uh, well..." "–Yes, yes, that's right." "Yes, we are." "–Little and Large, that's quite right." "–Gotta go now." "–Ah." "–Ah, well." "Well, goodbye, Marlon." "And goodbye to you all from A Bit of Little and Large." "Bye-bye."