The Goon Show: The Mysterious Punch-up-the-Conker



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[Door opens]

Seagoon:


What happened?

Singhiz Thingz:

I tell you, I tell you all about it. Please put on this cardboard turban. Thank you. Now, we were sitting down sir, playing ping pong in the oriental style, [corpses] When a leather omnibus approaching from the direction of W4, and the occupant, wearing a masked boxing glove, is punching poor Bert Ramjat Singh right up his conk! And poor Ramjat Singh is falling backwards in the direction of SW2, so help me he is!

Seagoon:


Gad! I said. Then that old man sleeping on the piano was telling the truth.

Willium:


[Backstage and very faintly] Yes I was!

Seagoon:


Constable, go up to Birmingham and bring him back. [Shouts to Willium] I'm sending someone for you.

Willium:


[Backstage and very faintly] Ta mate!

Seagoon:


Now then! Constable Greenslade. Question all people wearing masked boxing gloves, and driving leather omnibuses.

Greenslade:

It'll take time sir.

Seagoon:


Very well, take time, and... And Greenslade...

Orchestra:



[Romantic clarinet music over the next few lines...]

Constable:

Yes sir.

Seagoon:


You be careful... Remember, you're, you're all I've got.

Orchestra:



[Music stops abruptly]

Constable:

Don't worry sir, I'm wearing my trousers back to front.

Seagoon (shouts):

It must be hell in there!

Grams:


[Steam engine locomotive, slows down and grinds to halt]

Constable:

Here he is sir.

Willium:


Hello mate.

Seagoon:


You're back quickly.

Willium:


Yes, we brought the train by hairyplane.

Seagoon:


Splendid. Now look, what did this attacker look like?

Willium:


I dunno, I dunno, I didn't see 'im mate. I didn't...

Seagoon:


I see. And would you recognize him if you didn't see him again?

Willium:


Straight away! Although, you know sir, I must admit, me eyes ain't what they used to be.

Seagoon:


No?

Willium:


No! They used to be me ears!

Seagoon:


Sergeant! Take this man to Birmingham, and put him on the police station to Crewe.

Sergeant:

Yeahhyahayha sir.

Seagoon:


And Sergeant Geldray...

Max Geldray:

Yes boys?

Seagoon:


...Your nose is an obvious temptation to the punch-up-the-conker, place his harmonica underneath as a protection!

Milligan:

Looogeeeeee!

Seagoon:


Right, run the back for the old brandy there! Right!

Grams:


[Footsteps running away]

Max Geldray and orchestra:



[Musical interlude: ”Can't we be friends”]

FX:


[Sound of Geldray getting a punch up the conk! Harmonica blows out of tune]

Max Geldray:

Ooohh my nose! Oohh...

Grams:


[Bus bell, leather omnibus pulling away]

Seagoon:


Quick! They've clouted Geldray's hooter! After that leather omnibus on these national health feet!

Grams:


[Footsteps running away]

Orchestra:



[Descending dramatic fanfare link]

Milligan:



[Milliganesque singing in the background]

Seagoon:


Unfortunately the leather omnibus out-distanced us whilst I was having lunch.

Milligan:



[Burps] Pardon me.

Seagoon:


[Harry loses it, but quickly regains composure] [ad libs] We should have had 'em afters! And when I got out of bed next morning, it was completely out of sight.

Voice:


Inspector, I have been looking through this, er, log book of leather omnibus, and manufacgrudhmhmehya.....

Milligan:





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