****   THE UNDERTAKER SKETCH                                               ****
****   from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album                   ****
****   transcribed May, 1986 and uploaded to CMS January 1987              ****
****   by R. "Gumby" Preston ( KL791C@GWUVM.BITNET )                       ****
 
 
MAN: (entering a shop) Um, excuse me, is this the undertaker's?
UNDERTAKER: Yup, that's right, what can I do for you, squire?
M: Um, well, I wonder if you can help me. My mother has just died
   and I'm not quite sure what I should do.
U: Ah, well, we can 'elp you.  We deal with stiffs.
M: (aghast) Stiffs?
U: Yea. Now there's three things we can do with your mum.  We can bury
   her, burn her, or dump her.
M: Dump her?
U: Dump her in the Thames.
M: (still aghast) What?
U: Oh, did you like her?
M: Yes!
U: Oh well, we won't dump her, then.   Well, what do you think: burn her,
   or bury her?
M: Um, well, um, which would you recommend?
U: Well they're both nasty.  If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames,
   crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not
   quite dead. But quick. And then you get a box of ashes, which you can
   pretend are hers.
M: (timidly) Oh.
U: Or, if you don't wanna fry her, you can bury her.  And then she'll get
   eaten up by maggots and weevils, nibble, nibble, nibble, which isn't
   so hot if, as I said, she's not quite dead.
M: I see. Um. Well, I.. I.. I.. I'm not very sure. She's definitely dead.
U: Where is she?
M: In the sack.
U: Let's 'ave a look.
 
(FX: rustle of bag opening)
 
U: Umm, she looks quite young.
M: Yes, she was.
U: (over his shoulder) FRED!
F: (offstage) Yea!
U: I THINK WE'VE GOT AN EATER!
F: (offstage) I'll get the oven on!
M: Um, er...excuse me, um, are you... are you suggesting we should
   eat my mother?
(pause)
U: Yeah. Not raw, not raw. We cook her. She'd be delicious with a few
   french fries, a bit of stuffing. Delicious! (smacks his lips)
M: What! (he stammers)
(pause)
M: Actually, I do feel a bit peckish - No! NO, I can't!
U: Look, we'll eat your mum.  Then, if you feel a bit guilty about it
   afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up into it.
M: All right.
 
