Ronnie Corbett: And now, it’s goodnight from me…
Ronnie Barker: …and it’s goodnight from him.
Ronnie Barker: We interrupt this website for a special bulletin: The Metropolitan Police today denied that prisoners in their custody are excessively pampered. This follows yesterday’s report that a man was hustled out of New Scotland Yard with an electric blanket over his head.
Ronnie Corbett: And we’ve just heard that a juggernaut of onions has shed its load all over the M-1. Motorists are advised to find a hard shoulder to cry on.
Ronnie Barker: Following the dispute with the domestic servants’ union at Buckingham Palace today, the queen, a radiant figure in a white silk gown and crimson robe, swept down the main staircase and through the hall. She then dusted the cloak room and vacuumed the lounge.
Ronnie Corbett: After a series of crimes in the Glasgow area, Chief Inspector McTavish has announced that he’s looking for a man with one eye. If he doesn’t find him, he’s going to use both eyes.
Ronnie Barker: The perfect crime was committed last night, when thieves broke into Scotland Yard and stole all the toilets. Police say they have absolutely nothing to go on.
Ronnie Corbett: And we’ve just heard that in the English Channel, a ship carrying red paint has collided with a ship carrying purple paint. It is believed that both crews have been marooned. And now, back to our regular programme.
Ronnie Barker: And now a sketch featuring Ronnie Corbett whose wife thinks he’s the salt of the earth. That’s why she keeps him in the cellar.
Ronnie Corbett: Good evening! It’s wonderful to be back with you again, isn’t it, Ronnie?
Ronnie Barker: Indeed it is. And in a packed programme tonight, I shall be having a word with a man who goes in for meditation, because he thinks it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.
Ronnie Corbett: And we’ll be talking to a car designer who’s crossed Toyota with Quasimodo and come up with The Hatchback of Notre Dame.
Ronnie Barker: And we had hoped to have been bringing you Arthur the Human Chameleon, but this afternoon, he crawled across a tartan rug and died of exhaustion. But first, the news: The House of Commons was sealed off today after police chased an escaped lunatic through the front door during Prime Minister’s question time. A spokesman at Scotland Yard said it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Ronnie Corbett: West Mercia police announced tonight that they wish to interview a man wearing high heels and frilly knickers, but the Chief Constable said they must wear their normal uniforms.
Ronnie Barker: Many old music hall fans were present at the funeral today of Fred “Chuckles” Jenkins, Britain’s oldest and unfunniest comedian. In tribute, the vicar read out one of Fred’s jokes, and the congregation had two minutes silence.
Ronnie Corbett: Latest on the bullion robbery: At Wansforth Police Station, a man who’s as deaf as a post, and doesn’t speak English, with a terrible stutter, bad breath and squeaky shoes, is not helping the police with their inquiries one little bit.
Ronnie Barker: At London’s Heathrow, senior customs officer Seaforth Mumbly retired today. He shook hands with passengers passing through the customs, and confiscated a gold watch for himself.
Ronnie Corbett: There was a fire at the main Inland Revenue office in London today, but it was put out before any serious good was done.
Ronnie Barker: The search for the man who terrorizes nudist camps with a bacon slicer goes on. Inspector Lemuel Jones had a tip-off this morning, but hopes to be back on duty tomorrow.
Ronnie Corbett: Finally, it was revealed in a government survey published today that the Prime Minister is doing the work of two men. Laurel and Hardy.
Ronnie Barker: And now a sketch, featuring Mr Ronnie Corbett, whose wife tries not to bring out the beast in him, because she’s afraid of mice.
Ronnie Barker: I say, Humphrey.
Ronnie Corbett: What is it, Godfrey?
Ronnie Barker: Who was that terrible woman you were with today?
Ronnie Corbett: That was my sister.
Ronnie Barker: Oh, yes! Of course! I should have noticed the resemblance. Just got married, hasn’t she?
Ronnie Corbett: Yes. Yes. And do you know, she’s married a man who, invariably, people take an instant dislike to.
Ronnie Barker: Oh? Why is that, do you think?
Ronnie Corbett: It saves time. She’s just moved to Cheltenham. She loves Cheltenham. She says, in Cheltenham, breeding is everything.
Ronnie Barker: Yes, well, we enjoy it in Kensington as well, but we’re not fanatical about it.
Ronnie Corbett: Funny thing is, though, although he’s a bully, an idler and a drunk, she intends to have seventeen children by him.
Ronnie Barker: Good grief! Why on earth would she want to do that?
Ronnie Corbett: She says she’s hoping to lose him in the crowd.
Ronnie Barker: And Solomon F. Potts, America’s most persistent practical joker, was buried today. He’s not dead, it’s just the neighbours getting their own back.
Ronnie Barker: This kitchen appliance completely replaces the milkman, unless you’re the woman at 14 Catbury Drive with the green door.
Ronnie Corbett: …in this wretched, dreadful old husk of a town – absolutely nowhere near Watford – I must make that clear, I wouldn’t want people ringing in complaining. No, no, it’s true… some of them are on the telephone now.
Ronnie Corbett: My wife and I had a bit of a fight, there was some high-spirited name calling, and I had stormed upstairs to fetch my birth certificate.