Various Characters [ series 1 - 3, Deutsche shows & features ]
"There's a dead bishop..."
Psychiatrist's Nurse; Female Squatter
During the Restaraunt Abuse sketch, as Terry Jones playing the day's special, Au Gratin ala Chef, is rolled in, Eric Idle and John Cleese start to laugh. They quickly recover, though.
Announcer: When this series returns, it will be presented on your screens as a test card and be explained in the Radio Times as a history of Irish agriculture.
Customer: I'll have two choc-ices, please.
Concession Woman: I haven't got any choc-ices, I only got the albatross. (shouting) Albatross!
Announcer: There will now be a whopping great intermission, during which small ice creams in very large boxes will be sold. Another way we can drive people away from the cinema is by showing them advertisements.
Receptionist: Dr Larch ... there's a Mr Phelps to see you.
Dr. Larch: Er, nurse!
Dr. Larch: (whispering) Er, you don't think you should make it clear that I'm a psychiatrist
Dr. Larch: Well, I could be any type of doctor.
Receptionist: Well I can't come in and say "Psychiatrist Larch" or "Dr Larch who is a psychiatrist". Oh, anyway look, it's written on the door.
Dr. Larch: (stir whispering) That's outside.
Receptionist: Well, I don't care, you'll just have to do it yourself. (leaves)
Dr. Larch: (imitates phone ringing and picks it up) Hello. Er, no, wrong number I'm afraid, this is a psychiatrist speaking. Next please. (knock at the door) Er, come in.
(Mr. Phelps comes in dressed as Napoleon, with a parrot on his head, and a lead with nothing on it.)
Mr. Phelps: Bow, wow, wow.
Dr. Larch: Ah, Mr. Phelps. Come on in, take a seat. Now what seems to be the matter?
Mr. Phelps: No, no, no. No. No.
Dr. Larch: I'm sorry?
Mr. Phelps: Oh can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable I've seen it a million times. "Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr Phelps take a seat." I've seen it and seen it.
Dr. Larch: Well look, will you please sit down and do your first line?!
Mr. Phelps: No. No. I've had enough. I've had enough. (exits)
Dr. Larch: I can't even get it started.
Mr. Phelps: Albatross!
Dr. Larch: Shut up! Oh it drives me mad.
(Cut to Mr. Notlob.)
Mr. Notlob: A mad psychiatrist, that'd be new.
(Cut back to Dr. Larch.)
Dr. Larch: Next please.
(Knocking at door. Dr. Larch is about to call when he picks up a thesaurus and thumbs through it.)
Dr. Larch: Cross the threshold, arrive, ingress, gain admittance, infiltrate. (Mr. Notlob enters) Ah Mr Notlob, ah, park your hips on the sitting device.
Notlob: (to camera) It is a mad psychiatrist.
Dr. Larch: I'm not. I'm not. Come on in. Take a seat. What's, what's the matter?
(Mr. Phelps blows a raspberry.)
Dr. Larch: Now what's the matter?
Mr. Notlob: Well I keep hearing guitars playing and people singing when there's no one around.
Dr. Larch: Yes, well this is not at all uncommon. In certain mental states we find that auditory hallucinations occur which are of a most... (he stops suddenly and listens; the sound of "We're All Going to the Zoo Tomorrow" is heard) Is that "We're All Going to the Zoo Tomorrow"?
Mr. Notlob: Yes. Yes.
Dr. Larch: Is it always that?
Mr. Notlob: No.
Dr. Larch: Well that's something.
Mr. Notlob: But it's mainly folk songs.
Dr. Larch: (concerned) Oh my God.
Mr. Notlob: Last night I had "We'll Never Fall in Love Again"... for six hours!
Dr. Larch: Well look, I think I'd better have a second opinion on this. I want you to see a colleague of mine, a specialist in these sort of things, who has an office very much like this one as a matter of fact.
(Next scene starts off with the same office as before, but it is now occupied by a surgeon. Start on portrait which has moustache and beard and glasses being added by surgeon.)
Surgeon: (picks up phone) No, no wrong number I'm a colleague of his, a surgeon who specializes in these kind of things. Yes thank you very much. (replaces phone) Next please. (knock at door) Come in. (Mr. Notlob enters; "Going to the Zoo" is faintly heard) Ah come in, please take a seat. My colleague who has a similar office has explained your case to me. Mr. Notlob, as you know I am a leading Harley Street surgeon... as seen on television. I'm afraid I'm going to have to operate. It's nothing to worry about although it is extremely dangerous. I shall be juggling with your life, I shall be playing ducks and drakes with your very existence, I shall be running me mits over the pith of your marrow. Yes! These hands, these fingers, these sophisticated organs of touch, these bunches of five, these maulers, these German bands that have pulled many a moribund unfortunate back from the very brink of Lazarus's box. No, it was Pandora's box wasn't it? Well anyway these wits have earned yours truly a lot of bread. So if you'll just step through here I'll slit you up a treat.
Mr. Notlob: What?
Surgeon: Mr. Notlob, there's nothing wrong with you that an expensive operation can't prolong.
(Cut to operating theatre. The conversation and the guitar can still be heard. Mr. Notlob is on the table. Hit head is real but the rest of the body is fake. Table is covered with green cloth for reality. Surgeon is swabbing. "Going to the Zoo" is still audible.)
Surgeon: Right, I'm ready to make the incision. Knife please, sister. (takes knife) What's that supposed to be?! Give me a big one.. (takes big knife and strops it on steel sharpener) Oh I do enjoy this. Right. (he stabs the fake body and makes a slit four feet long) Oh what a great slit. Now, gentlemen, I am going to open the slit.
(He pulls it apart. The song gets louder. The head of a squatter pops out.)
Squatter: Too much man, groovy, great scene. Great light show, baby.
Surgeon: What are you doing in there?
Squatter: We're doing our own thing, man.
Surgeon: Have you got Mr. Notlob's permission to be in there?
Squatter: We're squatters, baby.
Surgeon: What? Nurse, wake [Mr. Notlob] up. (she slaps his face)
Squatter: Don't get uptight, man. Join the scene and other phrases. Money isn't real.
Surgeon: It is where I'm standing and it blows my mind, young lad. (looks inside Mr. Notlob) Good Lord! Is that a nude woman?
Squatter: She's doing an article on us for Nova, man.
Nude woman: Hi everyone. Are you part of the scene?
Surgeon: Are you rolling your own jelly babies in there?
Mr. Notlob: (waking up) What's going on? Who are they?
Surgeon: That's what we are trying to find out.
Notlob: What are they doing in my stomach?
Surgeon: We don't know. Are they paying you any rent?
Mr. Notlob: Of course they're not paying me rent!
Squatter: You're not furnished, you fascist.
Mr. Notlob: Get them out!
Surgeon: I can't.
Mr. Notlob: Get them out.
Surgeon: No I can't. Not without a court order.
Indian: (also appearing) Shut up. You're keeping us awake.
Caption: ONE COURT ORDER LATER.
(Some policemen walk in.)
First Policeman: (into slit) You are hereby ordered to vacate Mr Notlob forthwith. And or.
Squatter: Push off, fuzz.
Policeman: Right, that's it, we're going in. Release the vicious dogs. (dives into slit)
Animated head: What a terrible way to end a series! Why couldn't it end with something like this?
(Cut to animation of a woman trying to get a baby girl to smile for a camera. She's so unsuccessful that she rips off parts of the little girl's body.)
Animated head: Now there's an ending for you. Romance, lau-- (the foot lands on him)
No results found.
No results found.
No results found.
User Score: 98
User Score: 140
User Score: 59
User Score: 53
User Score: 45
User Score: 39
User Score: 20
User Score: 14
User Score: 14
User Score: 13