Monty Python's Flying Circus (1969–1974)
Graham Chapman: Various, Policeman, Doctor, The Colonel, Interviewer, Voice Over #2, Butler, Chairman, Chinaman, First Pepperpot, Headmaster, Loony, Pepperpot #1, Son, Vicar, Waiter, A Criminologist, A different Gestapo Officer, Abuser, Accountant, Alan Whicker #4, Alex Diamond, Alexander Hardacre, Alphonse, Angus Tinker, Announcer, Anthony Viney, Arthur Figgis, Bert Tagg, Biggles, Bookstore Customer, Caesar, Charles, Charles Darnay, Chivers, Chris, Chris Conger, City Stockbroker's Neighbour, Cliff Morgan, Coachman, Colonel Ewing, Colonel Pickering, Conservative Candidate, Count Dracula, Crossdressing Sergeant, Dad, David Thomas (Stig in the shooting script), David Unction, Dentist, Don Roberts, Dr. Watson, Eamonn, Englishwoman, Eskimo, Father, Female Fanshaw-Chumleigh, Ferdinand von Zeppelin, First Coal Miner, First Cricketer, First Expert, First Mrs. Zambesi, First Official, First Policeman, First Psychiatrist, First Store Assistant, Floor Director, Florence Nightingale, Fourth Doctor, Fourth Officer, Fourth Young Man, French City Gent, Game-Show Hostess, Gas Man, General, Genevieve, Gladstone, Gladys, Gumby #1, Hank Spim, Harry, Harry Baggot, Helmut, Hospital Patient, Housewife, Icelandic Honey Salesman, Inspector Dim of the Yard, Inspector Fox, Inspector Zatapathique, Irving C. Saltzberg, Jnr., Jean Wennerstrom, Jenny the Hun, Jimmy Blenkinshop, Judge, Julian, Julius Caesar, Kargol, Ken Biggles, King George III, Lady Partridge, Letter Writer Against Falling from al Building...
Photos
Quotes
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'Thrust' Presenter : Good evening. I have with me tonight Anne Elk. Mrs. Anne Elk.
Miss Anne Elk : Miss.
'Thrust' Presenter : You say you have a new theory about the brontosaurus
Miss Anne Elk : Can I just say here Chris for one moment that I have a new theory about the brontosaurus.
'Thrust' Presenter : Exactly.
[long pause]
'Thrust' Presenter : Well, what is it?
Miss Anne Elk : [looks around, concerned] Where?
'Thrust' Presenter : No, no, your new theory.
Miss Anne Elk : Oh, what is my theory?
'Thrust' Presenter : Yes.
Miss Anne Elk : Oh, what is my theory that it is. Well, Chris, you may well ask me what is my theory.
'Thrust' Presenter : I am asking.
Miss Anne Elk : Good for you. My word yes. Well, Chris, what it is that it is - this theory of mine. Well, this is what it is - my theory that I have, that is to say, which is mine, is mine.
'Thrust' Presenter : Yes, I know it's yours, what is it?
Miss Anne Elk : [looks round again] Where? Oh, what is my theory? This is it.
[clears her throat at length]
Miss Anne Elk : My theory that belongs to me is as follows.
[clears her throat very noisily and violently]
Miss Anne Elk : This is how it goes. The next thing I'm going to say is my theory. Ready?
'Thrust' Presenter : [exasperated] Yes.
Miss Anne Elk : My theory by A. Elk, brackets, Miss, brackets. This theory goes as follows and begins now. All brontosauruses are thin at one end, much much thicker in the middle, and the thin again at the far end. That is my theory, it is mine, and it belongs to me, and I own it, and what it is, too.
'Thrust' Presenter : That's it, is it?
Miss Anne Elk : Spot on, Chris.
'Thrust' Presenter : Well, uh, this theory of yours appears to have hit the nail on the head.
Miss Anne Elk : And it's mine.
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Hungarian : [reading from a English-Hungarian dictionary] I vill not buy this record, it is scratched.
Tobacconist : Sorry?
Hungarian : I vill not buy this record, it is scratched.
Tobacconist : Uh, no, no, this... uh... tobacconist.
Hungarian : Ah! I vill not buy this *tobacconist*, it is sratched.
Tobacconist : Uh, no, no, tobacco... um... cigarettes.
Hungarian : Ja! "Ci-ga-ret-ta"! Uh... My hovercraft if full of eels.
[pause]
Hungarian : My hovercraft
[motions "cigarettes"]
Hungarian : is full of eels.
[motions "matches"]
Tobacconist : Oh! Matches! Matches.
Hungarian : Ja! Ja, ja. Uh... do you *WA*nt... do you *WA*nt to come back to my place? Bouncy, bouncy!
Tobacconist : I don't think you're using that right.
Hungarian : You great poohft.
Tobacconist : Uh, that will be 66 please.
Hungarian : If I said you had beautiful body, vould you hold it against me? I... I am no longer infected.
Tobacconist : M-may I?
Hungarian : Ja! Ja!
[gives book to Tobacconist]
Tobacconist : Costs 6 and 6... costs 6 and... ah, here we are!
[Tobacconist says something in Hungarian, causing the Hungarian to punch him in the face. A police officer comes rushing into the store]
Police Officer : What's going on here then?
Hungarian : [to police officer] You have beautiful thighs.
Police Officer : What?
Tobacconist : He hit me!
Hungarian : Drop your panties, Sir William, I cannot wait till lunch time.
Police Officer : [angry] RIGHT!
[Hungarian dragged away by police officer]
Hungarian : My nipples explode with delight!
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Mr Barnard : What do you want?
Man : Well I was told outside that...
Mr Barnard : Don't give me that, you snotty faced heap of parrot droppings!
Man : What?
Mr Barnard : Shut your festering gob, you tit! Your type really makes me puke you vacuous, toffy-nosed, malodorous pervert!
Man : What? I came in here for an argument.
Mr Barnard : Oh, oh oh I'm sorry, this is "abuse'. You want Room 12-A just along the corridor.
Man : Oh sorry. Thank you very much, sorry, thank you.
Man : [Shuts the door]
Mr Barnard : Stupid git.
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Raymond Luxury-Yacht : No, no. It's spelt Raymond Luxury-Yacht but it's pronounced Throat-Wobbler Mangrove!
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BBC Interviewer : The activity you see behind me is part of the preparations for the new Naval Expedition to Lake Pahoe. The man in charge of this expedition is Vice Admiral Sir John Cunningham. Sir, John, hello there.
Vice-Admiral Sir John Cunningham : Ah, hello. Well, first of all I'd like to apologize for the behaviour of certain of my colleagues you may have seen earlier, but they are from broken homes, circus families and so on and they are in no way representative of the new modern improved British Navy. They are a small vociferous minority... and may I take this opportunity of emphasizing that there is no cannibalism in the British Navy. Absolutely none, and when I say none, I mean there is a certain amount, more than we are prepared to admit, but all new ratings are warned that if they wake up in the morning and find tooth marks at all anywhere on their bodies, they're to tell me immediately so that I can immediately take every measure to hush the whole thing up. And, finally, necrophilia is *right out*.
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Alan : Well last week, we showed you how to become a gynaecologist. And this week on "How to Do It" we're going to show you how to play the flute, how to split an atom, how to construct a box girder bridge, how to irrigate the Sahara Desert and make vast new areas of land cultivatable, but first, here's Jackie to tell you all how to rid the world of all known diseases.
Jackie : Hello, Alan.
Alan : Hello, Jackie.
Jackie : Well, first of all, become a doctor and discover a marvellous cure for something, and then, when the medical profession really starts to take notice of you, you can jolly well tell them what to do and make sure they get everything right so there'll never be any diseases ever again.
Alan : Thanks, Jackie, great idea. How to play the flute.
[produces a flute]
Alan : Well here we are. You blow there and you move your fingers up and down here.
Noel : Great, great, Alan. Well, next week we'll be showing you how black and white people can live together in peace and harmony, and Alan will be over in Moscow showing us how to reconcile the Russians and the Chinese. So until next week, cheerio!
All : Bye!
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Inspector Tiger : Now, alduce me to introlow myself. I'm sorry. Alself me to myduce introlow. Introme tolose mylow alself. Alme to you introself mylowduce. Excuse me a moment.
[bangs himself on the head]
Inspector Tiger : Allow me to introduce myself. I'm afried I must ask that no-one leave the room. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Inspector Tiger.
All : Tiger?
Inspector Tiger : [jumps] Where? Where? What? Ah. Me Tiger. You Jane.
[growl]
Inspector Tiger : Beg your pardon, allow me to introduce myself, I'm afraid I must ask that no-one leave the room.
Lady Velloper : Why not?
Inspector Tiger : Elementary. Since the body was found in this room, and no-one has left it. Therefore... the murderer must be somebody in this room.
Colonel Pickering : What body?
Inspector Tiger : Somebody. In this room. Must the murderer be. The murderer of the body is somebody in this room, which nobody must leave... leave the body in the room not to be left by anybody. Nobody leaves anybody or the body with somebody. Everybody who is anybody shall leave the body in the roombody. Take the tablets Tiger. Anybody with a body but not the body is nobody. Nobody leaves the body in the...
[takes a tablet]
Inspector Tiger : Albody me introbody albodyduce.
[a surgeon and two nurses enter with saws and lay Tiger down on the table. The same drawing room, one lobotomy later, Tiger's head is bandaged]
Surgeon : Now for Sir Gerald.
[exit]
Inspector Tiger : That's better. Now I'm Inspector Tiger and I must ask that nobody leave the room.
[gives thumbs up to the surgeon]
Inspector Tiger : Now someone has committed a murder here, and that murderer is someone in this room. The question is... who?
Colonel Pickering : Look, there hasn't been a murder.
Inspector Tiger : No murder?
All : No.
Inspector Tiger : Oh, I don't like it. It's too simple, too clear cut. I'd better wait.
[sits]
Inspector Tiger : No, too simple, too clear cut.
[lights out, a scream, and a shot. Tiger is dead with a poison bottle in his hand, an arrow through his neck, and a bullet in his head]
Colonel Pickering : By jove, he was right!
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Ludovic : ['The Great Debate Number 31: TV4 Or Not TV4?'] Hello. Should there be another television channel or not? On tonight's programme, the Minister for Broadcasting, The Right Honourable Mr Ian Throat MP.
Mr Ian Throat : Good evening.
Ludovic : The chairman of the Amalgamated Money TV, Sir Abe Sappenheim.
Sir Abe Sappenheim : Good evening.
Ludovic : The Shadow Spokesman for Television, Lord Kinwoodie.
Lord Kinwoodie : Hello.
Ludovic : And a television critic, Mr Patrick Loone.
Mr Patrick Loone : Hello.
Ludovic : Gentlemen, should there be a fourth television channel or not? Ian?
Mr Ian Throat : Yes.
Ludovic : Francis?
Lord Kinwoodie : No.
Ludovic : Sir Abe?
Sir Abe Sappenheim : Yes.
Ludovic : Patrick?
Mr Patrick Loone : No.
Ludovic : Well there you have it, two say will, two say won't. We'll be back again next week, and next week's "Great Debate' will be about government interference in broadcasting and will be cancelled mysteriously.
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Mr Barnard : A murderer is, after all, an extroverted suicide...
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Arthur Name : She your wife?
Victor : Um, no, actually...
Arthur Name : Ooooh, oooh, well don't let me interrupt anything, I know all about one-night stands! Oh, dear, this music isn't much, is it?
[throws away calm record and starts playing marsh music]
Arthur Name : I heard this hilarious joke at the pub today: What's brown and sounds like a bell?
Victor : I beg your pardon?
Arthur Name : What's brown and sounds like a bell?
[Iris shakes head in confusion]
Arthur Name : Dung!
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Victor : Look, get out, all of you. Go on. Get out! Get out!
Mr. Equator : I beg your pardon?
Victor : I'm turning you all out! I'm not having my house filled with filthy perverts. Now look, I'm giving you just half a minute then I'm going to call the police, so get out!
Mr. Equator : I don't much like the tone of your voice.
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Interviewer : Good evening. Well, we have in the studio tonight a man who says things in a very roundabout way. Isn't that so, Mr Pudifoot?
Mr. Pudifoot : Yes.
Interviewer : Have you always said things in a very roundabout way?
Mr. Pudifoot : Yes.
Interviewer : Well, I can't help noticing that, for someone who claims to say things in a very roundabout way, your last two answers have had very little of the discursive quality about them.
-
Señor Biggles : Miss Bladder, take a letter.
Miss Bladder : Yes, Señor Biggles.
Señor Biggles : Don't call me "Señor!" I'm not a Spanish person. You must call me Mr. Biggles or Group Captain Biggles, or Mary Biggles if I'm dressed as my wife, but never "Señor!"
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Mr. Pither : You are Rear Admiral Sir Dudley Compton?
Chinaman : No. He die. He have heart attack and fell out of window onto exploding bomb, and was killed in shooting accident.
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Milkman : Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man. Good morning, madam, I'm a psychiatrist.
Mrs. Pim : You look like a milkman to me.
Milkman : [ticks a box on his clipboard] Good, I am in fact dressed as a milkman... you spotted that. Well done.
Mrs. Pim : Go away.
Milkman : Now then, madam, I'm going to show you three numbers and I want you to tell me if you notice any similarity between them.
[holds up a card with the number "3' on it three times]
Mrs. Pim : They're all number three.
Milkman : No. Try again.
Mrs. Pim : They're *all* number three?
Milkman : No. They're *all* number three.
[writes]
Milkman : Right. Now, I'm going to say a word and I want you to say the first thing that comes into yout head. How many pints do you want?
Mrs. Pim : Er... three?
Milkman : Yoghurt?
Mrs. Pim : Er... no.
Milkman : Cream?
Mrs. Pim : No.
Milkman : Eggs?
Mrs. Pim : No.
Milkman : [writes] Right. Well, you're quite clearly suffering from a repressive libido complex, probably the product of an unhappy childhood, coupledwith acute insecurity in adolescence, which has resulted in an attenuation of the libido complex.
Mrs. Pim : You *are* a bloody milkman!
Milkman : Don't you shout at me, madam, don't come that tone. Now then, I must ask you to accompany me down to the dairy and do some aptitude tests.
Mrs. Pim : I've got better things to do than come down to the dairy!
Milkman : Mrs. Ratbag! If you don't mind my saying so, you are badly in need of an expensive course of psychiatric treatment. Now I'm not going to say that a trip down to our dairy will cure you, but it will give hundreds of lower-paid workers a good laugh.
Mrs. Pim : All right... but how am I going to get home?
Milkman : I'll run you there and back in my psychiatrist's float.
Mrs. Pim : ...All right.
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High Court Offical : [first juror is imitating a fish swimming] Bird?
Lawyer : Swimmer!
High Court Offical : Breast stroke!
Prosecuting Counsel : Brian Phelps!
High Court Offical : No, no, no! He was a diver!
Lawyer : Esther Williams, then!
High Court Offical : No, no! Don't be silly! How can you find someone *not* Esther Williams?
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Colonel Pickering : And now for a complete change of mood.
Dirty Old Man : I've 'eard of unisex, but I've never 'ad it!
