Part VI: The Autumn Years
ANNOUNCER: The Meaning of Life: Part Six: The Autumn Years.
[piano music]
NO�L COWARD: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Here's a little number I tossed off recently in the Caribbean. [singing]
Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis?
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong?
It's swell to have a stiffy.
It's divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger
To the world's biggest prick.
So, three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas.
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy, or your cock.
You can wrap it up in ribbons.
You can slip it in your sock,
But don't take it out in public,
Or they will stick you in the dock,
And you won't come back.
Oh, thank you very much.
RANDOM: Beautiful!
[applause]
MAX: Oh, what a frightfully witty song.
MAX'S WIFE: Terribly clever.
GUEST #1: Jolly good.
GUEST #1'S WIFE: Marvellous.
[suspenseful music]
FISH #5: Oh, shit! It's Mr. Creosote.
MA�TRE D: Ah, good afternoon, sir, and how are we today?
MR. CREOSOTE: Better.
MA�TRE D: Better?
MR. CREOSOTE: Better get a bucket. I'm going to throw up.
MA�TRE D: Uh, Gaston! A bucket for monsieur. There you are, monsieur.
[goosh]
Merci, Gaston.
MR. CREOSOTE: I haven't finished.
MA�TRE D: Oh! Pardon. Gaston! A thousand pardons, monsieur.
MR. CREOSOTE: Uhh.
[goosh]
MA�TRE D: Now, zis afternoon, we have monsieur's favourite: ze jugged hare. Ze hare is very high, and ze sauce is very rich with truffles, anchovies,
Grand Marnier, bacon, and cream. Thank you, Gaston.
MR. CREOSOTE: There's still more.
MA�TRE D: Oh! Allow me. A new bucket for monsieur,...
[goosh]
...and ze cleaning woman,... and maintenant. Would monsieur care for an ap�ritif, or would he prefer to order straight away?
[goosh]
MR. CREOSOTE: Oh.
MA�TRE D: Uh, today we have, uh, for appetizers: Excuse me. Mhmm. Uh, moules marini�res, p�t� de foie gras, beluga caviar, eggs Benedictine, tart
de poireaux-- that's leek tart,-- frogs' legs amandine, or oeufs de caille Richard Shepherd-- c'est � dire, little quails' eggs on a bed of pur�ed mushroom.
It's very delicate. Very subtle.
MR. CREOSOTE: I'll have the lot.
MA�TRE D: A wise choice, monsieur. And now, how would you like it served? All, uh, mixed up togezer in a bucket?
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah,... with the eggs on top.
MA�TRE D: But of course, avec les oeufs frites.
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah, and don't skimp on the p�t�.
MA�TRE D: Oh, monsieur, I assure you, just because it is mixed up wis all ze other things, we would not dream of giving you less than ze full amount.
In fact, I will personally make sure you have a double helping. Maintenant quelque chose � boire. Something to drink, monsieur?
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah, I'll have six bottles of Ch�teau Latour Forty-five...
MA�TRE D: Forty-five.
MR. CREOSOTE: ...and a double Jeroboam of champagne.
MA�TRE D: Bon, and the usual brown ales?
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah. No, wait a minute. I think I can only manage six crates today.
MA�TRE D: [tut tut tut tut] I hope monsieur was not overdoing it last night.
MR. CREOSOTE: Shut up!
MA�TRE D: D'accord. Ah! Ze new bucket and ze cleaning woman.
[goosh goosh goosh goosh]
Monsieur, is there something wrong with the food?
GUEST #4: No, the food was excellent.
MA�TRE D: Perhaps you're not... happy with the service?
GUEST #4: No, no. No complaints.
GUEST #4'S WIFE: It's just that we have to go. I'm having rather a heavy period.
GUEST #3: Hmm.
GUEST #3'S WIFE: Mm mm.
GUEST #4: And... we... have... a... train to catch.
MA�TRE D: Ah.
GUEST #4'S WIFE: Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. We have a train to catch, and I don't want to start bleeding all over the seats. Ha, hm hm hm.
MA�TRE D: Madam?
GUEST #4: Perhaps we should be going.
GUEST #4'S WIFE: Oh.
MA�TRE D: Oh! Very well, monsieur. Thank you so much. So nice to see you, and I hope very much we will see you again very soon. Au revoir,
monsieur.
[clunk]
Oh, dear. I have trodden in monsieur's bucket.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
[slurp]
MA�TRE D: Another bucket for monsieur,...
[goosh]
...and perhaps a hose. M-hm.
MAX: [retch]
MAX'S WIFE: Oh, Max. Really!
GUEST #2: [hiccup]
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning]
MA�TRE D: And finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint.
MR. CREOSOTE: Nah.
MA�TRE D: Oh, sir, it's only a tiny, little, thin one.
MR. CREOSOTE: No. Fuck off. I'm full.
MA�TRE D: Oh, sir. Hmm?
MR. CREOSOTE: [groan]
MA�TRE D: It's only wafer thin.
MR. CREOSOTE: Look. I couldn't eat another thing. I'm absolutely stuffed. Bugger off.
MA�TRE D: Oh, sir, just-- just one.
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning] All right. Just one.
MA�TRE D: Just the one, monsieur. Voil�.
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning]
MA�TRE D: Bon app�tit.
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning]
[suspenseful music]
[music stops]
[crash]
[BOOM]
[goosh]
[goosh]
[mayhem]
MA�TRE D: Thank you, sir, and now, here's ze check.
Part VI B: The Meaning of Life
ANNOUNCER: The Meaning of Life: Part Six B: The Meaning of Life.
MA�TRE D: M-hm-hmm. You know, Maria, I sometimes wonder if we'll ever discover the meaning of it all working in a place like this.
MARIA: Oh, I've worked in worse places, philosophically speaking.
MA�TRE D: Really, Maria?
MARIA: Yes. I used to work in the Acad�mie Fran�aise, but it didn't do me any good at all,
A-- and I once worked in the library in the Prado in Madrid, but it didn't teach me nothing, I recall,
And the Library of Congress you'd have thought would hold some key,
But it didn't, and neither did the Bodleian Library.
In the British Museum I hoped to find some clue.
I worked there from nine till six, read every volume through,
But it didn't teach me nothing about life's mystery.
I just kept getting older, and it got more difficult to see,
Till, eventually, me eyes went and me arthritis got bad,
And so now I'm cleaning up in here, but I can't be really sad,
'Cause, you see, I feel that life's a game. You sometimes win or lose,
And though I may be down right now, at least I don't work for Jews.
MA�TRE D: [choking]
[clunk]
I'm so sorry. I-- I had no idea we had a-- a racist working here. I-- I-- I-- I apologise most sincerely. I mean, well, w-- W-- where are you going? Know
what? I can explain, uh,-- Ehh, quel dommage.
GASTON: As for me, huh, if you want to know what I think, [sniff] I'll show you something. Come with me.
MA�TRE D: Ah! I was saying that-- Uh, allo?
GASTON: Come on.
MA�TRE D: Ah, allo? Allo?
GASTON: This way. Come on. Don't be shy. Mind the stairs, all right? I think this will help explain. Come along. Come along. Over here. Come on.
Come on.
[screeeech]
[beeeeeep]
This way.
[beeeep]
[honk]
[screeech]
Come on. This way. Stay by me, uh?
[music]
Nearly there, now. You see that? That's where I was born. You know, one day, my-- my mother, she put me on her knee and she said to me, 'Gaston,
my son, the world is a beautiful place. You must go into it and... love everyone, try to make everyone happy, and bring peace and contentment
everywhere you go,' and so, I became a waiter. Well, it's-- it's not much of a philosophy, I know,... but, well,... fuck you. I can live my own life in my
own way if I want to. Fuck off.
VOICE: [cough cough]
GASTON: Don't come following me!
Part VII: Death
[dong]
ANNOUNCER: The Meaning of Life: Part Seven: Death.
[seagulls]
[ocean sounds]
[suspenseful music]
NARRATOR #2: This man is about to die. In a few moments, now, he will be killed, for Arthur Jarrett is a convicted criminal who has been allowed to
choose the manner of his own execution.
NAKED GIRL #1: There.
NAKED GIRL #2: There he is!
NAKED GIRLS: [panting]
[exciting music]
GOVERNOR: Arthur Charles Herbert Runcie MacAdam Jarrett, you have been convicted by twelve good persons and true... of the crime of first degree
making of gratuitous, sexist jokes in a moving picture.
[heavenly music]
NAKED GIRLS: [panting]
ARTHUR JARRETT: Aaaaaaaggh!
[whump]
PADRE: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
LEAF #1: [sobbing]
[bark bark bark]
[bark bark bark bark]
[bark bark]
It's no good. I-- I-- I-- I just can't go on. I-- [sob] I'm no good any more. [sniff]
LEAF #2: No.
LEAF #1: [sob] I-- I-- I want to end it all. [sobbing] Good-bye! Good-bye!
[snap]
Aaaaaaagggghh!
[whump]
LEAF #2: [gasp] Oh, my God! [gasp] Oh, no! I c-- [gasp] What'll I do? I-- I can't live without him. I-- I-- I-- [gasp]
[snap]
Aaaaaaggh!
[whump]
LEAF #3: Mummy?
LEAF #4: Mum, where are you?
LEAF #3: Mum? Daddy?
LEAF #4: [gasp]
LEAF #3: Mumm-- mummy?
LEAF #4: [gasp] Mummy? What are you doing?
LEAF #3: [gasp gasp]
LEAF #4: Don't push.
[snap]
LEAF #3: [gasp] Aaaaaaggghh!
LEAF #4: Aaaaaaggghh! Aaaaggghh!
[whump]
[whump]
REMAINING LEAVES: Oh! Aagh!
[whump]
[breathing sound]
[bark bark bark bark bark bark]
[bark bark bark]
[bark bark bark bark]
[bark bark bark]
[dong dong]
[wind]
[dong dong dong]
[scary music]
[clunk clunk]
[clunk clunk]
GEOFFREY: Yes?
[pause]
Is it about the hedge?
[pause]
Look. I am awfully sorry, but--
GRIM REAPER: I am the Grim Reaper.
GEOFFREY: Who?
GRIM REAPER: The Grim Reaper.
GEOFFREY: Yes, I see.
GRIM REAPER: I am death.
GEOFFREY: Yes, well, the thing is, we've got some people from America for dinner tonight, and--
ANGELA: Who is it, darling?
GEOFFREY: It's a 'Mr. Death' or something. He's come about the reaping? I don't think we need any at the moment.
ANGELA: Hello. Well, don't leave him hanging around outside, darling. Ask him in.
GEOFFREY: Darling, I don't think it's quite the moment.
ANGELA: Do come in. Come along in. Come and have a drink. Do. Come on.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: It's one of the little men from the village.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: Uh, do come in.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: Please.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: This is Howard Katzenberg from Philadelphia...
HOWARD KATZENBERG: Hi.
ANGELA: ...and his wife, Debbie,...
DEBBIE: Hello there.
ANGELA: ...and these are the Portland-Smythes, Jeremy and Fiona.
FIONA PORTLAND-SMYTHE: Good evening.
ANGELA: This is Mr. Death.
[spooky music]
Well, do get Mr. Death a drink, darling.
GEOFFREY: Uh, yes.
HOWARD: Mmm.
ANGELA: Mr. Death is a reaper.
GRIM REAPER: The Grim Reaper.
ANGELA: Hardly surprising, in this weather. Ha ha ha.
EVERYONE: [laughing]
HOWARD: So, you still, uh, reap around here, do you, Mr. Death?
GRIM REAPER: I am the Grim Reaper.
GEOFFREY: That's about all he says.
DEBBIE: Heh.
GEOFFREY: There's your drink, Mr. Death.
ANGELA: Do sit down.
DEBBIE: We were just talking about some of the awful problems facing the thir-- [gasp]
[crash]
ANGELA: Ohh. Would you prefer white? I-- I'm afraid we don't have any beer.
JEREMY PORTLAND-SMYTHE: The Stilton's awfully good.
GRIM REAPER: I am not of this world.
[spooky music]
GEOFFREY: Good Lord.
GRIM REAPER: I am death.
DEBBIE: Well, isn't that extraordinary? We were just talking about death only five minutes ago.
ANGELA: Yes, we were.
HOWARD: Mmm. Mm.
ANGELA: You know, whether death is really the end.
DEBBIE: As my husband, uh, Howard, here, feels, or whether there is-- and one so hates to use words like 'soul' or 'spirit', but--
JEREMY: But what other words can one use?
GEOFFREY: E-- exactly.
GRIM REAPER: You do not understand.
DEBBIE: Ah, no. Obviously not.
HOWARD: Let me just tell you something, Mr. Death.
GRIM REAPER: You do n--
HOWARD: Just one moment. I'd like to express, on behalf of everybody here, what a... really unique experience this is.
JEREMY: Hear, hear.
ANGELA: Yes, we're so delighted, uh, that you dropped in, Mr. Death.
HOWARD: Can I just finish, please?
DEBBIE: Mr. Death, is there an after-life?
HOWARD: Dear, if you could just wait, please, a moment,--
ANGELA: Are you sure you wouldn't like some sherry?
DEBBIE: [mumbling]
HOWARD: Angela. Angela, I'd like to just say this at this time, if I could, please. Really.
GRIM REAPER: Be quiet!
HOWARD: Can I just say this at this time, please?
GRIM REAPER: Silence! I have come for you.
ANGELA: You mean... to--
GRIM REAPER: Take you away. That is my purpose. I am death.
GEOFFREY: Well, that's cast rather a gloom over the evening, hasn't it?
HOWARD: I don't see it that way, Geoff. [sniff] Let me tell you what I think we're dealing with here: a potentially positive learning experience to get an--
GRIM REAPER: Shut up! Shut up, you American. You always talk, you Americans. You talk and you talk and say 'let me tell you something' and 'I
just wanna say this'. Well, you're dead now, so shut up!
HOWARD: Dead?
GRIM REAPER: Dead.
ANGELA: All of us?
GRIM REAPER: All of you.
GEOFFREY: Now, look here. You barge in here, quite uninvited, break glasses, and then announce, quite casually, that we're all dead. Well, I would
remind you that you are a guest in this house, and--
[whock]
Ah! Oh.
GRIM REAPER: Be quiet! Englishmen, you're all so fucking pompous, and none of you have got any balls.
DEBBIE: Can I ask you a question?
GRIM REAPER: What?
DEBBIE: How can we all have died at the same time?
[silence]
GRIM REAPER: The salmon mousse.
GEOFFREY: Darling, you didn't use canned salmon, did you?
ANGELA: I'm most dreadfully embarrassed.
GRIM REAPER: Now the time has come. Follow. Follow me.
[clunk]
[bang bang bang bang bang]
GEOFFREY: Just... testing. Sorry.
GRIM REAPER: Follow me. Now.
[deathly music]
Come.
[eerie music]
ANGELA: Well, the fishmonger promised me he'd have some fresh salmon, and he's normally so reliable.
RANDOM: Stumm. Stumm.
JEREMY: Can we keep our glasses?
RANDOM: Mmm hmm.
FIONA: Oh. Good idea. [hiccup]
RANDOM: Come on.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
HOWARD: Okay.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
DEBBIE: Hey, I didn't even eat the mousse.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
ANGELA: Honestly, darling, I'm so embarrassed. It really is embarrassing. I mean,...
HOWARD: I suppose... [mumbling]
ANGELA: ...to serve salmon with botulism at a dinner party is social death for me.
GEOFFREY: Well, all right.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
JEREMY: Uh, shall we take our cars?
FIONA: Do we need them?
GEOFFREY: Why not?
ANGELA: Yes. Why not?
HOWARD: [mumbling] ...is my vote.
ANGELA: Good idea.
RANDOM: Yes. Why not?
GUESTS: [mumbling]
RANDOM: Shall we go separately?
[car sounds]
GUESTS: [mumbling]
[spooky music]
GRIM REAPER: Behold... Paradise.
[elevator music]
MR. HENDY: I love it here, darling.
MRS. HENDY: Me too, Marvin.
RECEPTIONIST: Hello. Welcome to Heaven. Excuse me, could you just sign here, please, sir?
JEREMY: Yes.
RECEPTIONIST: Thank you! There's a table for you through there in the restaurant.
JEREMY: Thank you.
RECEPTIONIST: For the ladies,...
FIONA: Mhm. 'After-life Mints'. [hiccup]
DEBBIE: Thank you.
RECEPTIONIST: Happy Christmas!
DEBBIE: Oh, is it Christmas today?
RECEPTIONIST: Of course, madam. It's Christmas every day in Heaven.
DEBBIE: Ohh.
HOWARD: Mmm.
DEBBIE: How about that?
HOWARD: Hello there.
DEBBIE: Ah.
CROWD: [mumbling]
[music]
Shhh. Shhhh! Shhh...
TONY BENNETT: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It's truly a real honourable experience to be here this evening, a very wonderful and warm and
emotional moment for all of us, and I'd like to sing a song for all... of you.
[applause] [singing]
It's Christmas in Heaven.
All the children sing.
It's Christmas in Heaven.
Hark. Hark. Those church bells ring.
It's Christmas in Heaven.
The snow falls from the sky,
But it's nice and warm, and everyone
Looks smart and wears a tie.
It's Christmas in Heaven.
There's great films on TV:
'The Sound of Music' twice an hour
And 'Jaws' One, Two, and Three.
JOSEPH AND MARY: [singing]
There's gifts for all the family.
There's toiletries and trains.
THREE WISE MEN: [singing]
There's Sony Walkman Headphone sets
And the latest video games.
EVERYONE: [singing]
It's Christmas! It's Christmas in Heaven!
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray!
Every single day
Is Christmas day!
It's Christmas! It's Christmas in Heaven!
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray!
Every single day
Is Chri--
The End of the Film
LADY PRESENTER: Well, that's the end of the film. Now, here's the meaning of life. Thank you, Brigitte. M-hmm. Well, it's nothing very special. Uh,
try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony
with people of all creeds and nations, and, finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark
some sort of controversy, which, it seems, is the only way, these days, to get the jaded, video-sated public off their fucking arses and back in the sodding
cinema. Family entertainment bollocks. What they want is filth: people doing things to each other with chainsaws during tupperware parties, babysitters
being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates, vigilante groups strangling chickens, armed bands of theatre critics exterminating
mutant goats-- Where's the fun in pictures? Oh, well, there we are. Here's the theme music. Goodnight.
[music]
[dong]
['Monty Python's Flying Circus' theme]
[wind]
VOICE OF MAN IN PINK: [singing]
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour,
That's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power.
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call the 'Milky Way'.
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side.
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick,
But out by us, it's just three thousand light years wide.
We're thirty thousand light years from galactic central point.
We go 'round every two hundred million years,
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth.
Links to other sites on the Web
Back to the Main Page
Back to the Main Monty Python Page
© 1997 [email protected]
Get your own Free Home Page