Goon Show Script

The MacReekie Rising of '74

Series 7, Episode 4

Originally broadcast: 25th October 1956. Notes: In this episode Milligan was indisposed, so Sellers played Eccles and Minnie Bannister and Secombe played Moriarty. George Chisholm played a minor role (known in this episode as McChisholm). Transcribed by Moriarty, minor adjustments by thegoonshow.net



GREENSLADE:
This is the BBC. Any offers?

ECCLES:
Ten shillings

GREENSLADE:
Sold

FX:
Cash register

SECOMBE:
Yes folks, sold to the gentleman with the rolled-gold trilby and transparent head. Now, Mr. Greenslade, hold this piece of seaweed, raise your right leg, point north and discharge your duty, namely a weather report of this week's show!

GRAMS:
Thunder rumble, rain

GREENSLADE:
According to the humidity of my knees, which are sweeping in from the Azores on a broad front, we present "The McReekie Rising of '74"

ORCHESTRA:
Scottish introduction interrupted by a showbiz intro.

GRAMS:
Bagpipe music

CAST:
[over grams] Rhubarb, rhubarb, McRhubard, McCustard, McRhubarb, rhubarb etc.

GRAMS:
Bagpipe music speeds up and fades out

McCHISHOLM:
Lads, hear me the noo. I, Chisholm McChisholm of the MacShowband, bring grave Mc news. Mac Scotland is in Mac peril

CAST:
Oooorrrrr, McRhubarb etc.

SECOMBE:
McRhubarb, McCustard, McRhu... Silence, lads! A word from our chief, the laird Red Hairy McLegs

McLEGS:
Ooorrr neei, or nei, oorr. Ma hairies, ma brave hairies! The great hairy caber of the clan MacReekie, symbol of Scottish power and manhood, has been stolen by the reeking non-hairy sassenach English!

CAST:
Ooorrrr, McNo, McNo!

McLEGS:
Tonight we march north to England!

SECOMBE:
But England's south

McLEGS:
I was going to march right round the world and sneak up on them from behind! Forward to MacReekie!!!!!

GRAMS:
"What is this?", bagpipe music and singing with it speeding up

GREENSLADE:
Thank heaven they've gone, you know they make such a mess of the place. And now, according to this air ministry roof I'm holding, a band of Scots are approaching the tower of London, where on the ramparts, a British garrison stands alert, and ready

BLOODNOK:
[Snores]

GRAMS:
'Fred the Oyster'

BLOODNOK:
Hoo, ooh, that's better

SEAGOON:
Ahoy, up there! Let me in

BLOODNOK:
What, what? You're not her husband, are you?

SEAGOON:
No

BLOODNOK:
Oh, thank heaven for that. Right, right, here's the key, let yourself in lad. Supper's in the oven

FX:
Gas oven opens

SEAGOON:
Ah, thank you. I'm captain Ned Seagoon of the third foot

BLOODNOK:
So, you've grown another one

SEAGOON:
Only for the three-legged race

BLOODNOK:
Of course, you won't find any of them here, you know

SEAGOON:
Enough of the splin, splan, splon

BLOODNOK:
Needle

SEAGOON:
Now you are Bloodnok of the tower

BLOODNOK:
The same, the same. Wait a moment, what's that sixty-foot, hairy pole hidden under your kilt?

SEAGOON:
So you've spotted it, eh?

BLOODNOK:
Only when the sun glinted on it

SEAGOON:
This pole was captured in battle from the Scots. It's the great McHairy McCaber of the MacReekie

BLOODNOK:
Ooh, you three-legged military fool, you. They'll slaughter us for bringing that to England. Abdul, pack my kit and Mrs Fitzsimmons, we're leaving for foreign parts

SEAGOON:
Bloodnok, you're a miserable coward

GREENSLADE:
Pardon me, Major Bloodnok

BLOODNOK:
What is it, Mrs Fitzsimmons?

GREENSLADE:
Um, there's a hairy army outside, sir

BLOODNOK:
Aaooow, the Scots!

GREENSLADE:
And this registered Scotsman arrived this morning

McCHISHOLM:
I, I bring word from our Laird. Return the red hairy caber or we'll close wi' you the noo!

BLOODNOK:
It's Chisholm McChisholm the steaming kilt

McCHISHOLM:
I'm warning you, Seagoon! Listen, I'm warning you, we've got the whole of England surrounded by water

SEAGOON:
Curse, we're trapped! Man the lifeboats! Alright, McChisholm. Tell your hairies, we fight!

ORCHESTRA:
Dramatic link

GRAMS:
Thunder rumble, rain

GREENSLADE:
With the draught of low pressure settling under my chair and the glass falling in all directions, the defenders of the Tower of London await the hairy Scots' attack

FX:
Footsteps approaching

WILLIUM:
[Muffled] Halt! Who goes there, mate?

FRED NURKE:
Hello, Willium, I've come to relieve you

WILLIUM:
[Muffled] Ooooh, you're too late, mate

FRED NURKE:
I say, Willium, where are you lad?

WILLIUM:
[Muffled] I'm ah - I'm inside the barrel of this cannon, mate

FRED NURKE:
Are we out of ammunition, then?

WILLIUM:
[Muffled] No, no, no, matey, it come on to rain you see. And I only had my thin summer armour on, so ah - I got in here, you see to get out of it. Give me an 'and to get out, will you?

FRED NURKE:
Right, on the left, turn 'round a bit ~~~. Aah

GRAMS:
Pop

WILLIUM:
Herh, ooh. Well, I'll see you later, mate. Ta ta for now

FRED NURKE:
All the best, lad

WILLIUM:
[off, singing:] Maybe it's because I'm a Chinaman, that I love London so...

FRED NURKE:
Neeee yeeeeeeyeeeeee. What a silly bloke he was, getting inside the barrel of that cannon? Hahaha, he won't catch old Fred Nurke doing that! Ha-ha I'll tell ye. After all someone might come along and fire it

GRAMS:
Rain

FRED NURKE:
Curse, it's come on to rain. Perhaps if I put only half of me in the cannon, that might improve matters. I'll just get down inside [strains]. Oh, certainly keeps you dry, don't it? Ha-ha. Ay ay, me head's getting wet. I will insinuate myself in the barrel for just a short period

GRAMS:
Rain stops

FRED NURKE:
[Muffled] [Yawns] It's nice and dry inside the barrel [Yawns, snores. Snores under...]

ECCLES:
[Gibberish singing for 10 sec.] Ooh, look, a naughty little fuse. Aw look at that naughty little fuse! I will light that naughty little fuse on the cannon. ~~~~~~

FX:
Strikes match

ECCLES:
[Goes off singing]

GRAMS:
Fuse hissing, explosion, bomb whistle, bomb hit

FX:
Cracking

McLEGS:
Brrrrrrr nuch bnn! Lads, look here, they're firing sassenachs at us! Right, lads, fire Max Geldray, plodgee. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

MAX GELDRAY AND ORCHESTRA:
"Jump for Me"

GREENSLADE:
The MacReekie '74: Part seventy-five. With south cones pointing north and the Irish Sea waist deep in water, the hairies attacked the tower

GRAMS:
Charging, bugle call

OMNES:
[Make charging calls]

FX:
Door opens

SEAGOON:
Major, the Scots are attacking the north gate. They're pouring in through the window

BLOODNOK:
The dirty devils! Abdul, get a mop and clear up. Where's Sergent Groins?

SEAGOON:
A tragedy, sir. He was counterattacking when he tripped and fell right in the oubliette

BLOODNOK:
Well we'll have him hosed down and send him in, will you?

SEAGOON:
Major Bloodnok, you underestimate the grivity of the satuition. You underestimate the sovity of the gravitation. You under... [clears throat, sings awfully:] Falling in love, with love, is falling for make-believe. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

BLOODNOK:
Abdul, cancel my tickets for the Palladium, will you?

SEAGOON:
Whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat? Bloodnok, Bloodnok, we must get the caber to a place of safety

BLOODNOK:
I know, the crown jewels room. That's empty

SEAGOON:
Eh? What have you done with the crown jewels, you Rogue?

BLOODNOK:
How dare you insinuate, sir! They're perfectly safe, I tell you. That pawn ticket's under lock and key.

SEAGOON:
Alright. Private Willium?

WILLIUM:
Yes, mate, sir, yes?

SEAGOON:
Carry the sixty-foot hairy caber into the crown jewels room

WILLIUM:
Right. [Strains] mate, ooh. It won't go through the door, mate, it's too high. I'll have to saw a bit off the top, mate

SEAGOON:
You won't have to do that, you fool, just make the doorway higher

GREENSLADE:
Erm, may I suggest you take it in horizontally?

WILLIUM:
Right, I'll do that, mate. I'll lie down, mate. I shouldn't be doing this, man of my age. I've got a chit. I'm excused cabers I am

GRAMS:
Whoosh, splat

WILLIUM:
Oooh aaaw aaaw! Who threw that?

SEAGOON:
Poor Willium, he's been hit by a great steaming spludge. What is it?

WILLIUM:
[Taste noise] Here, taste it

SEAGOON:
[Taste noise, gulps] Good heavens. Issue umbrellas, the Scots are firing porridge!

BLOODNOK:
Porridge at teatime? The devils, they're trying to unbalance our diet

SEAGOON:
Gad, you're right. Not a word to the men

BLOODNOK:
Of course

SEAGOON:
Very well then. If the Scots want to make it a war on nutrition, we have an English dish in our armoury twice as deficient in calories as porridge and twice as deadly

BLOODNOK:
Seagoon, you're not going to fire...

SEAGOON:
Yes, brown Windsor soup

ORCHESTRA:
Dramatic link

GRAMS:
Bubbles

MIN BANNISTER:
Naaaaw! [Sings:] You've got to rock and roll in a military way! Yim bum bum bidle day, yum bum bum bum bum, bubble bo! Num num with a shiny jewel, yum bum bum, diddle doo!

HENRY CRUN:
What's happening in this steaming room, Minnie?

MIN BANNISTER:
I'm pouring brown Windsor soup into these naughty cannon balls, buddy

HENRY CRUN:
Oh, haven't we got any soup plates, Min?

MIN BANNISTER:
Yes, Henry

HENRY CRUN:
Good, good, good

MIN BANNISTER:
Ooooh. What's good, Henry?

HENRY CRUN:
It's good that we've got soup plates, Min

MIN BANNISTER:
But we've always had soup plates, Henry

HENRY CRUN:
Yes, it's always been good, Min

MIN BANNISTER:
Yes, Henry

HENRY CRUN:
[Surprised]

SEAGOON:
Now, come on, Tarzan. Seal those cannon balls and take them up to the cannoniers

HENRY CRUN:
They're too heavy for me to carry, sir

SEAGOON:
Well have you got a dumb waiter?

HENRY CRUN:
Only Eccles

SEAGOON:
Ah, just the man! Eccles, take one of these cannon balls

ECCLES:
OK [swallows]

SEAGOON:
You fool, you!

GRAMS:
Explosion

ECCLES:
Pardon

ORCHESTRA:
Scottish-type link

GRAMS:
Bagpipe music

GREENSLADE:
The MacReekie '74. With the weather vanes exposed to the Gulf Stream and equinox in the ascendance, the Scots maintained a non-stop barrage of bagpipes, which slowly had its effect on the English garrison

GRAMS:
Bagpipes continue

GRYTPYPE:
Have you got the earplugs, Moriarty?

MORIARTY:
Six hundred pairs of them, oooooh hiwwwww!

GRYTPYPE:
If the English want to stay sane, they should buy the lot

MORIARTY:
Ooh, yes we'll make some money. Ooh, the moolah, the lolly, the ~~~~, the ~~~~! Power, more power ~~~~

GRYTPYPE:
Silence, you steaming infested Gaelic wreck

MORIARTY:
Oooh hiwww!

GRYTPYPE:
Stop shrieking and steaming. You'll bring the hairies down on us. Now straighten those knees, wipe that filthy handkerchief off your face and don't forget I shall do the talking

MORIARTY:
Right, and I'll join in the choruses, iiiiiwww!

FX:
Knock on door, door opens

GREENSLADE:
Halt, who goes there, sir? English or German?

GRYTPYPE:
Thank you. Is there a garrison living her by the name of beleaguered?

GREENSLADE:
Yes, sir

GRYTPYPE:
Could I speak to the owner?

GREENSLADE:
Certainly, sir. Um - would you care to wait in here with these other chairs?

FX:
Door opens

GRYTPYPE:
Thank you. You don't mind if we smoke our own?

GREENSLADE:
Oh no, by all means

FX:
Door closes, door opens

SEAGOON:
Good morning, gentlemen. I'm sorry I'm late, it's the matinees, you know

GRYTPYPE:
Yes, they can be painful

SEAGOON:
Yes, now ah - what is it?

GRYTPYPE:
Well we have reason to believe that your garrison are being sorely tried by the noise of bagpipes

SEAGOON:
Yes, but what's that to you?

GRYTPYPE:
[Laughs] My friend and I represent a leading firm of earplug manufacturers

SEAGOON:
What? We'll take the lot! Ah Bloodnok!

BLOODNOK:
Ah what is it?

SEAGOON:
Look! The answer to the bagpipe noise

BLOODNOK:
Earplugs, yes, let's test them

GRYTPYPE:
Certainly. Put them in your ears and I'll bang this drum

SEAGOON:
Right, got them in [laughs] bang away

[7 sec. silent pause]

GREENSLADE:
Listeners, the silence you are now hearing is not the silence brought on by the insertion of earplugs. It is the silence brought on by Grytpype-Thynne, who fiend that he is, is actually playing the drum with silent drumsticks, thank you

SEAGOON:
Ah, he's stopped playing now. Well his earplugs seem to be alright. How much do you want for them?

GRYTPYPE:
One hundred pounds

[Short pause]

SEAGOON:
How much do you want for them?

GRYTPYPE:
One hundred... [Laughs] Take your earplugs out

SEAGOON:
Why don't you answer? I asked you how much do you want for them?

GRYTPYPE:
One hundred pounds

SEAGOON:
That's funny, I can't hear him

GRYTPYPE:
They cost one hundred... Look, take out the earplugs

SEAGOON:
Stop all that silly miming, man. How much?

GRYTPYPE:
One hundred pounds!

SEAGOON:
I've had enough of this, Bloodnok. He obviously doesn't want to do business. Come on, get out!

GRYTPYPE:
No, no, no, look here...

SEAGOON:
You steaming English idiots, get out!

FX:
Door closes

SEAGOON:
One hundred pounds for earplugs we can hear through? [Laughs] Not likely

GREENSLADE:
There seems to be some doubt...

SEAGOON & GRYTPYPE:
[Under Greenslade] [Argue] Earplugs etc.

GREENSLADE:
...as to the efficacy of the earplugs. There's only one positive test:
Ray Ellington

RAY ELLINGTON QUARTET:
"Lulu's Back in Town"

GREENSLADE:
With the quality of the earplugs still unproven, the British were forced to step up their barrages of brown Windsor soup

GRAMS:
Bagpipe music

BLOODNOK:
It's no good, we can't hold out much longer against this fiendish bagpipe playing

SEAGOON:
Gentlemen, there's one thing that will shatter the Scots: a kilt removing patrol

BLOODNOK:
But look here, isn't that a bit near the knuckle?

SEAGOON:
It depends on how you look at it. Now who will go out and remove the enemy's kilts?

[Pause]

BLOODNOK:
Alright then, we'll draw for it. Now one of these straws I'm holding is shorter than the rest. Now come on, draw

OMNES:
[Rhubarbs]

BLOODNOK:
Well well now, who's got the shortest?

SEAGOON:
You have

BLOODNOK:
Mmm? Oh! Well off you go, lads, off you go. And the best of luck, sir

SEAGOON:
Thank you, sir. Now listen, lads, reports indicate that our barrages of brown Windsor soup have badly stained the Scotsmens' kilts. Now [laughs] here is my cunning plan. The splin splan splon of the needle nardle noo...

GREENSLADE:
That evening in the Scottish camp:

GRAMS:
Dance music, gunshot, music speeds up, shattering glass, music speeds up more, more gunshots and shattering glass as music speeds up more and ends with speeded up chord

McLEGS:
Next dance please

McCHISHOLM:
Laird Hairy McLegs?

McLEGS:
Ay?

McCHISHOLM:
This Chinese laundryman wants a word with you

McLEGS:
Ay

SEAGOON:
[Chinese accent] Gleetings, honolable haily Scotsman

McLEGS:
What do you want here, jock Chinaman?

SEAGOON:
[Chinese accent] Me bling splecial offeler. Me wash all Sclotmen's sloup-stains klilts flee of charge

McLEGS:
Off wi' your kilts, lads

SEAGOON:
Ohhhhhh ho ho ho!

McLEGS:
Jock Chinaman, have them kilts back wee in one hour

SEAGOON:
[Chinese accent] I plomise, one hour. Gloodblye!

McLEGS:
Right, lads, take your partners for the slow frenzy

GRAMS:
Same dance music, gunshots & shattering glass as music speeds up and fades out. Crickets

FX:
Door opens and squeaks

SEAGOON:
Hah. Is Corporal Bluebottle's raiding party back yet?

BLUEBOTTLE:
Yes it is. And look here, I've got a hundred and ninety kilts

SEAGOON:
Kilts? Those are skirts

BLUEBOTTLE:
Ooh, no wonder they put up such a fight. Yeeheheeee!

SEAGOON:
Bluebottle, you must learn to tell the difference. What's your tale, little musketeer?

BLUEBOTTLE:
I will tell you my tale, sir. Listen. On the night of the dreaded kilt snatching patrol, I blackened my face and whited my boots and in that position I approached the Scottish camp and I hidded in the bushes! Then I used the special Bluebottle mind over matter plan; I stared at them, with my undefeatable power of eyes look and I willed their kilts to drop off

SEAGOON:
Splendid

BLUEBOTTLE:
Yes! I looked the kilts straight in the sporringe and I went straaaiiiiin! Fall down, naughty kilt, I said in my mind. Straaaiiiiin, strain! Dotted lines out of eyes towards kilt showing direction of power. Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot. Little kilt, you cannot stand up against my superior North Finchley will power. Extra heavy strain; straiiiin! Dotted lines change to daggers showing increase of power; [really straining:] burch burch burch burch burch. Straaaiiiiin! And then rip! Whoosh! Thud!

SEAGOON:
What happened?

BLUEBOTTLE:
My trousers fell down

SEAGOON:
Don't worry, little thin East Finchley Liberace

BLUEBOTTLE:
Herheeeehehe!

SEAGOON:
I've got all their kilts. The trouble is how am I going to get them washed and back in an hour?

GREENSLADE:
You're taking them back?

SEAGOON:
Of course, I promised. I can't break my word as a Chinaman

GREENSLADE:
You're only disguised as a Chinaman, sir

SEAGOON:
Thank heaven you noticed [laughs]. But for your keen eye, I'd've been washing chop suey all day

BLOODNOK:
Seagoon, bad news! We've had it, lad. The ravens have been stolen by the Scots and everybody knows the legend that if the ravens leave the tower, the tower will surely fall

SEAGOON:
If everybody knows, what did you say it for?

BLOODNOK:
It's for me, I'd never heard of it, you see?

SEAGOON:
Men, we can't fight the legend. The ravens have gone. This, is the end

BLOODNOK:
Ooh

SEAGOON:
Oohoohoo. [Sadly:] Let the Scotsmen in

GRAMS:
Sad bugle ballard

SEAGOON:
Open the gates. Men, put down your arms

FX:
Gates slide open

OMNES:
Rhubarb, rhubarb, McCustard, McRhubarb, rhubarb

McLEGS:
Well, Seagoon?

SEAGOON:
We surrender, here's your hairy caber back. [Strains]

McLEGS:
[Strains]. Ta

SEAGOON:
All we want back now is our ravens

McLEGS:
We've no got your ravens, lad

SEAGOON:
What, whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat? Then, then where can they be?

MIN BANNISTER:
Dinner's ready, boys. Forty hairy black birds baked in a hairy pie

SEAGOON:
Help! We've been betrayed! Aaaaaaaaaa!

MIN BANNISTER:
[Under Seagoon] Hahahaha!

ORCHESTRA:
End music: "Lucky Strike" continues under:

GREENSLADE:
That was The Goon Show. A BBC recorded programme featuring Peter Sellers and Harry Secombe. With the Ray Ellington Quartet, Max Geldray and the orchestra conducted by Wally Stott. The Glasgow-type Glasgow voice was played by George Chisholm. Script by Spike Milligan and Larry Stephens, announcer Wallace Greenslade, the program produced by Pat Dixon

(FX: Music fades out early)