[User] Yes! Bastards! I hate them with their long tails and their stupid twitchy noses. I shall return at midnight to collect the loot, when I’ll fill you so full of holes I could market you as a new English cheese! Ha ha ha ha ha!

[Assistant] Oh God! What a way to die! Shot by a transvestite on an unrealistic grassy knoll!


[User] Morning Mr B.

[Assistant] Bal- Baldrick? Baldrick! Thank you for introducing me to a genuinely new experience.


[User] What experience is that?

[Assistant] Being pleased to see you! Now what are you doing here, you revolting animal?


[User] I’ve come for the Shadow’s autograph. You know I’m a great fan of the Shadow’s.

[Assistant] Yes, yes, just untie me Baldrick, come on.


[User] What, has he gone? Oh what a pity, I wanted him to autograph my new poster. Look, his reward has gone up to ten thousand pound.

[Assistant] Good lord, ten thousand pounds.


[User] Yep.

[Assistant] That gives me an idea. Baldrick, take this cartload of loot back to the palace and meet me back here at midnight, with ten soldiers, a restless lynch mob and a small portable gallows. The Prince’s Bedroom ——————–


[User] Aha, brekkers! I could eat fourteen trays of it this morning and still have room for a dolphin on toast!

[Assistant] Any particular reason for this gluttonous levity sir?


[User] Well, what do you think Blackadder, I’m in love! I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love. Oh Amy, bless all ten of your tiny little pinkies. Oh, let’s see what’s in the paper. Oh my God, she’s been arrested and hanged!

[Assistant] Oh really?


[User] It turns out she was a highwayman!

[Assistant] Teh, these modern girls.


[User] Apparently someone tipped off the authorities and collected the ten thousand pound reward. What a greasy sneak. Oh, if only I could get my hands on him.

[Assistant] Teh, you can’t trust anyone these days sir.


[User] It says here that she had an accomplice. But they don’t know who it was. Amy, Amy, Amy, I shall never forget you, never ever, ever ever! Right, what’s for breakfast?

[Assistant] Kedgeree, sir.


[User] Great. Actually, come to think of it Blackadder, I didn’t need to get married anyway. I’ve got pots of money.

[Assistant] Really?


[User] Mmm. The most extraordinary thing happened. I was a bit peckish during the night, so I nipped downstairs to the biscuit barrel.

[Assistant] The biscuit barrel?


[User] And do you know what I found inside? Ten thousand pounds that I never knew I had! I’ve got so much money now I don’t know what to do with it!

[Assistant] How about a game of cards sir?


[User] Ooh! Mr. Blackadder.

[Assistant] Leave me alone Baldrick. If I’d wanted to talk to a vegetable I’d have bought one at the market.


[User] Well don’t you want this message?

[Assistant] No thank you… God, I’m wasted here. It’s no life for a man of noble blood being servant to a master with the intellect of a jugged walrus and all the social graces of a potty.


[User] I’m wasted too. I’ve been thinking of bettering myself.

[Assistant] Oh, really? How?


[User] I applied for the job of village idiot of Kensington.

[Assistant] Oh. Get anywhere?


[User] I got down to the last two, but I failed the final interview.

[Assistant] Oh, what went wrong?


[User] I turned up. The other bloke was such an idiot he forgot to.

[Assistant] Yes, well I’m afraid my ambitions stretch slightly further than professional idiocy in West London. I want to be remembered when I’m dead. I want books written about me. I want songs sung about me. And then hundreds of years from now I want episodes from my life to be played out weekly at half past nine by some great heroic actor of the age.


[User] Yeah, and I could be played by some tiny tit in a beard.

[Assistant] Quite. Now, what’s this message?


[User] I thought you didn’t want it?

[Assistant] Well I may do. It depends what it is.


[User] So you do want it?

[Assistant] Well I don’t know, do I? It depends what it is.


[User] Well, I can’t tell you unless you want to know, and you said you didn’t want to know, and now I’m so confused I don’t know where I live or what my name is.

[Assistant] Your name is of no importance and you live in the pipe in the upstairs water-closet. Oh God! Was the man who gave you this, by any chance, a red-headed lunatic with a kilt and a claymore?


[User] Yeah, and the funny thing was, he looked exactly like you.

[Assistant] My mad cousin McAdder. The most dangerous man ever to wear a skirt in Europe.


[User] Yeah, he come in here playing the bag-pipes, then he made a haggis, sang Auld Lang Sayne and punched me in the face.

[Assistant] Why?


[User] Because I called him a knock-kneed Scottish pillock.

[Assistant] An unwise action, Baldrick, since Mad McAdder is a homicidal maniac.


[User] My mother told me to stand up to homicidal maniacs.

[Assistant] Yes. If this is the same mother who confidently claimed that you were a tall handsome stallion of a man, I should treat her opinions with extreme caution.


[User] I love my mum.

[Assistant] And I love chops and sauce but I don’t seek their advice. I hate it when McAdder turns up. He’s such a frog-eyed, beetle-browed basket-case.


[User] He’s the spitting image of you.

[Assistant] No he’s not. We’re about as similar as two completely… dissimilar things in a pod. What’s the old tartan throw-back banging on about this time? “Have come South for the rebellion.” Oh God! Surprise, surprise… “Staying with Miggins. The time has come. Best sword and Scotland. Insurrection… Blood… Large bowl of porridge… Rightful claim to throne…” He’s mad. He’s mad. He’s madder than Mad Jack McMad the winner of last year’s Mr Madman competition. Ah! The walrus awakes.


[User] Ah Blackadder. Notice anything unusual?

[Assistant] Yes sir, it’s 11:30 in the morning and you’re moving about. Is the bed on fire?


[User] Well, I wouldn’t know, I’ve been out all night. Guess what I’ve been doing? Wraaarrhhhh…

[Assistant] Beagling, sir?


[User] Better even than that. Sink me Blackadder if I, if I haven’t just had the most wonderful evening of my life.

[Assistant] Tell me all sir.


[User] Well as you know when I set out I looked divine. At the party as I passed all eyes turned.

[Assistant] And I daresay quite a few stomachs.


[User] Well that’s right. And then these two ravishing beauties came up to me and whispered in my ear.. that they loved me.

[Assistant] And what happened after you woke up?


[User] Oh, this was no dream Blackadder. Five minutes later I was in a coach flying through the London night bound for the ladies’ home.

[Assistant] And which home is this? A home for the elderly or a home for the mentally disadvantaged?


[User] Oh no no no no no. This was Apseley House. Do you know it?

[Assistant] Yes sir. It is the seat of the Duke of Wellington. Those ladies I fancy would be his nieces.


[User] Ooh, so you fancy them too? Well, I don’t blame you. Bravo. I spent a night of ecstasy with a pair of Wellingtons and I loved it.

[Assistant] Sir, it may interest you to know that the Iron Duke has always let it be known that he will kill in cold blood anyone who takes sexual advantage of any of his relatives.


[User] Yes, but Big-nose Wellington is in Spain fighting the French, he’ll never know.

[Assistant] On the contrary sir. Wellington triumphed six months ago.


[User] I’m dead.

[Assistant] It would seem so sir.


[User] I haven’t got a prayer, have I Blackadder?

[Assistant] Against Throat-slasher Wellington? The finest blade His Majesty commands? Not really no.


[User] Then I shall flee. How’s your French Blackadder?

[Assistant] Parfait monsieur. But I fear France will be not far enough.


[User] Well how’s your Mongolian?

[Assistant] Mmm, chang hatang motzo motzo. But I fear Wellington is a close personal friend of the chief Mongol. They were at Eton together.


[User] I’m doomed. Doomed as the dodo. Oh my God, he’s here, Wellington’s here already! Oh, Your Grace, forgive me. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was a mad, mad, sexually over-active fool.

[Assistant] Sir, it’s Baldrick. You’re perfectly safe.


[User] Well, hurrah!

[Assistant] Ah, until 6 o’clock tonight.


[User] Hurrooh.

[Assistant] “From the Supreme Commander, Allied Forces Europe. Sir, Prince or pauper, when a man soils a Wellington he puts his foot in it. P.S: This is not a joke. I do not find my name remotely funny, and people who do end up dead. Close bracket. I challenge you to a duel tonight at 18 hundred hours in which you will die. Yours with sincere apologies for your impending violent slaughter, Arthur Wellesey, Duke of Wellington.”


[User] Ahh ah ahhh haaa haaawww.

[Assistant] Oh, don’t worry sir, please. Just consider that life is a valley of woe filled with pain, misery, hunger and despair.


[User] May I speak, sir?

[Assistant] Certainly not Baldrick! The Prince is about to die. The last thing he wants to do in his final moments is exchange pleasantries with a certified plum-duff.


[User] Easy Blackadder, let’s hear him out.

[Assistant] Very well Baldrick. We shall hear you out, then throw you out.


[User] Well, Your Majesty, I have a cunning plan which could get you out of this problem.

[Assistant] Don’t listen to him sir. It’s a cruel proletarian trick to raise your hopes. I shall have him shot the moment he’s finished clearing away your breakfast.


[User] No wait Blackadder. Perhaps this disgusting degraded creature is some sort of blessing in disguise.

[Assistant] Well if he is, it’s a very good disguise.


[User] After all, did not our Lord send a lowly earthworm to comfort Moses in his torment?

[Assistant] No.


[User] But I’m the Prince Regent! My portrait hangs on every wall!

[Assistant] Answer that, Baldrick.


[User] Well my cousin Bert Baldrick, Mr Gainsborough’s butler’s dogsbody, says that he’s heard that all portraits look the same these days, ’cause they’re painted to a romantic ideal rather than as a true depiction of the idiosycratic facial qualities of the person in question.

[Assistant] Your cousin Bert obviously has a larger vocabulary than you do, Baldrick.


[User] No, now, he’s right damn him. Anybody could fight the duel and Wellers would never know.

[Assistant] All the same sir, Baldrick’s plan does seem to hinge on finding someone willing to commit suicide on your behalf.


[User] Oh yes yes yes, but he would be fabulously rewarded. Money, titles, castles..

[Assistant] A coffin, erm…


[User] What a splendid idea!

[Assistant] Excuse me Your Highness. Trouble with the staff. Baldrick, does it have to be this way? Our valued friendship ending with me cutting you into long strips and telling the Prince that you walked over a very sharp cattlegrid in an extremely heavy hat?


[User] Mr. Blackadder, you was only just saying in the kitchen how you wanted to rise again – now here the Prince is offering you the lot.

[Assistant] But, tiny tiny brain, the Iron Duke will kill me. To even think about taking him on you’d have to be some kind of homicidal maniac who was fantastically good at fighting, like McAdder, like McAdder… Like McAdder could fight the duel for me! My apologies sir. I was just having a word with my insurance people. Obviously I would be delighted to die on your behalf.


[User] God’s toenails Blackadder, I’m most damnably grateful. You won’t regret this you know.

[Assistant] Well that’s excellent. There’s just one point though sir, re: the suicide policy. There’s an unusual clause which states that the policy holder must wear a big red wig and affect a Scottish accent in the combat zone.


[User] Small print eh? Huh.

[Assistant] Ah, Mrs. Miggins. Am I to gather from your look of pie-eyed exhaustion and the globules of porridge hanging off the walls that my cousin McAdder has presented his credentials?


[User] Oh yes indeed sir. You’ve just missed him.

[Assistant] I trust he has been practising with his claymore.


[User] Oooooh, I should say so! I’m as weary as a dog with no legs that’s just climbed Ben Nevis.

[Assistant] A claymore is a sword, Mrs. Miggins.


[User] See this intricate wood carving of the infant Samuel at prayer? He whittled that with the tip of his mighty weapon with his eyes closed.

[Assistant] Yes, exquisite.


[User] He bid me bite on a plank, there was a whirlwind of steel, and within a minute three men lay dead and I had a lovely new set of gnashers.

[Assistant] Really. Just tell him to meet me here at 5 o’clock, will you? To discuss an extremely cunning plan. If all goes well by tomorrow the clan of McAdder will be marching back the high road back to glory.


[User] Ooh lovely. I’ll do you a nice packed lunch. The Prince’s Quarters ———————

[Assistant] Good news, Your Majesty. This evening I will carve the Duke into an attractive piece of furniture with some excellent dental work. Your Highness? Your Highness!


[User] Ooohh! Oh, thank God it’s you Blackadder. I’ve had just word from Wellington, he’s on his way here now.

[Assistant] Ah, that’s awkward. The Duke must believe from the very start that I am you.


[User] Hmm, well, hmm, any ideas?

[Assistant] There’s no alternative, we must swap clothes.


[User] Oh fantastic, yes, dressing up. I love it. It’s just like that story, ah, “The Prince And The Porpoise”.

[Assistant] “..and the Pauper” sir.


[User] Oh yes! Yes yes yes, “The Prince and the Porpoise and the Pauper”. Excellent, excellent. Why, my own father wouldn’t recognise me.

[Assistant] Your own father never can. He’s mad.


[User] Oh yes, yes.

[Assistant] Unfortunately, sir, you do realise that I shall have to treat you like a servant?


[User] Oh, I think I can cope with that, thank you, Blackadder.

[Assistant] And you will have to get used to calling me “Your Highness”, Your Highness.


[User] “Your Highness, Your Highness.”

[Assistant] No, just “Your Highness”, Your Highness.


[User] That’s what I said, “Your Highness, Your Highness”, Your Highness, Your Highness.

[Assistant] Yes, let’s just leave that for now, shall we? Complicated stuff obviously.


[User] Big Nose is here… But what?.. Who?.. Where?.. How?..

[Assistant] Don’t even try to work it out Baldrick. Two people you know well have exchanged coats and now you don’t know which is which.


[User] I must say I’m pretty confused myself! Which one of us is Wellington?

[Assistant] Wellington is the man at the door.


[User] Oh. And the porpoise?

[Assistant] Hasn’t arrived yet sir. We’ll just have to fill in as best we can without it. Sir, if you would let the Duke in.


[User] Certainly, Your Highness, Your Highness.

[Assistant] And you’d better get out too, Baldrick.


[User] Yes, Your Highness, Your Highness.

[Assistant] Oh God! If only they had a brain cell between them.


[User] Have I the honour of addressing the Prince Regent, sir?

[Assistant] You do.


[User] I’m a Duke not a Lord! Where were you trained, the Dago dancing class? Shall I have my people thrash him for you, Highness?

[Assistant] Errm.. No, he’s very new. At the moment I’m sparing the rod.


[User] Ah! Fatal error. Give them an inch and before you know it they’ve got a foot, much more than that and you don’t have a leg to stand on.

[Assistant] Ah that’s excellent. Thank you. “We won, signed Wellington.” Well, that seems to sum it up very well. Was there anything else?


[User] Two other trifling things Highness.. The men had a whip-round and got you this. Well, what I mean is I had the men roundly whipped until they got you this. It’s a cigarillo case engraved with the regimental crest of two crossed dead Frenchmen, emblazoned on a mound of dead Frenchmen motif.

[Assistant] Thank you very much. And the other trifling thing?


[User] Your impending death, Highness.

[Assistant] Oh yes, of course, mind like a sieve.


[User] Mmm, I can not deny I’m looking forward to it. Britain has the finest trade, the finest armies, the finest navies in the world. And what do we have for royalty? A mad Kraut sausage sucker and a son who can’t keep his own sausage to himself. The sooner you’re dead the better.

[Assistant] You’re very kind.


[User] Now, you’re no doubt anxious to catch up with the news of the war. I have here the most recent briefs from my general in the field…

[Assistant] Yes, well if you would just like to pop them in the laundry basket on the way out. Tea?


[User] Yes, immediately. Now, let’s turn to the second front, my lord.

[Assistant] Ah yes. Now, as I understand it Napoleon is in North Africa. And Nelson is stationed in…


[User] Alaska. In case Bony should try to trick us by coming via the North Pole.

[Assistant] Yes… Perhaps a preferable stratagem, Your Grace, might be to harry him amid-ships as he leaves the Mediterranean. Trafalgar might be quite a good spot…


[User] Trafalgar? Well, I’ll mention it to Nelson. I must say I’m beginning to regret the necessity of killing you, Your Highness. I’d been told by everybody that the Prince was a confounded moron.

[Assistant] Oh, no no no no no.


[User] You speak when you’re spoken to. Unless you want to be flayed across a gun carriage. Well?

[Assistant] Sir, sir, I fear you have been too long a soldier. We no longer treat servants that way in London society.


[User] Why, I hardly touched the man!

[Assistant] Aah, I think you hit him very hard.


[User] Nonsense ,a hard hit would be like that! I only hit him like that.

[Assistant] No sir, a soft hit would be like this. Whereas you hit him like this.


[User] Please, um, I wonder if I might be excused, Your Highness, Your Highness.

[Assistant] Certainly. I’m sorry about that, sir, but one has to keep up the pretence.


[User] No, no. I quite understand. You carry on the good work.

[Assistant] Very well sir.


[User] Hang on, this is bloody coffee! I ordered tea! You really are a confounded fool. Aren’t you? I’d heard everywhere that the Prince was an imbecile whereas his servant Blackadder was respected about town. Now that I discover the truth I’m inclined to beat you to death. TEA!!

[Assistant] Tell me, do you ever stop bullying and shouting at the lower orders?


[User] NEVER! There’s only one way to win a campaign: shout, shout and shout again.

[Assistant] You don’t think then that inspired leadership and tactical ability have anything to do with it?


[User] NO! It’s all down to shouting. WAAGGHH!

[Assistant] I hear that conditions in your army are appalling.


[User] Well I’m sorry, but those are my conditions and you’ll just have to accept them. That is until this evening when I shall kill you.

[Assistant] Hmm, who knows, maybe I shall kill you.


[User] Dyaa. Nonsense. I’ve never been so much as scratched, my skin is as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Which is more than you can say for my bottom.

[Assistant] Yes. One point, sir. I should, perhaps, warn you that while duelling I tend to put on my lucky wig and regimental accent.


[User] That won’t help you. It would take a homicidal maniac in a claymore and a kilt to get the better of me!

[Assistant] Well that’s handy. The Kitchens ————


[User] You’re late! Where the hell have you been for it, India?

[Assistant] Or Ceylon?


[User] Or China? And don’t bother to show me the way out. I don’t want to die of old age before I get to the front door. Mrs. Miggins’ Coffee Shop ————————-

[Assistant] Ah! Miggins. So where’s McAdder? I thought he was going to be here at five o’clock.


[User] Yes, I’m sorry. He’s just popped out. You look ever so similar to each other you know, it’s quite eerie.

[Assistant] Look, did you tell him to be here or not?


[User] I’ll tell you why. It’s because there’s no coffee shop in England big enough for two Blackadders.

[Assistant] Ah! Good day, cousin McAdder. I trust you are well.


[User] Aye, well enough.

[Assistant] And Morag?


[User] She bides fine.

[Assistant] And how stands that mighty army, the clan McAdder?


[User] They’re both well.

[Assistant] I always thought that Jamie and Angus were such fine boys.


[User] Angus is a girl. So tell me cousin, I hear you have a cunning plan.

[Assistant] I do, I do. I want you to take the place of the Prince Regent and kill the Duke of Wellington in a duel.


[User] Aye, and what’s in it for me?

[Assistant] Enough cash to buy the Outer Hebrides. What do you think?


[User] And I shall wear the granite gown and limestone bodice of MacMiggins, Queen of all the herds.

[Assistant] Look, for God’s sake, McAdder, you’re not Rob Roy. You’re a top kipper salesman with a reputable firm of Aberdeen fishmongers. Don’t throw it all away. If you kill the Prince they’ll just send the bailiffs round and arrest you.


[User] Oh blast, I forgot the bailiffs.

[Assistant] So we can return to the original plan then?


[User] You’re a woman of spirit! I look forward to burying you in the old Highland manner. Farewell Blackadder, you spineless goon!

[Assistant] Oh God! Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more.


[User] Ah, Blackadder. It has been a wild afternoon full of strange omens. I dreamt that a large eagle circled the room three times and then got into bed with me and took all the blankets. And then I saw that it wasn’t an eagle at all but a large black snake. Also Duncan’s horses did turn and eat each other. As usual. Good portents for your duel, do you think?

[Assistant] Not very good sir. I’m afraid the duel is off.


[User] OFF?

[Assistant] As in “sod”. I’m not doing it.


[User] By thunder, here’s a pretty game. You will stay, sir, and do duty by your Prince. Or I shall…

[Assistant] Or what? You port-brained twerp. I’ve looked after all my life. Even when we were babies I had to show which bit of your mother was serving the drinks.


[User] Please please. You’ve got to help me. I don’t want to die. I’ve got so much to give. I want more time.

[Assistant] A poignant plea sir. Enough to melt the stoniest of hearts. But the answer, I’m afraid, must remain: “You’re going to die, fat pig.”


[User] Oh, wait, wait, wait. I’ll give you everything.

[Assistant] Everything?


[User] Everything.

[Assistant] The money, the castles,the jewellery?


[User] Yes.

[Assistant] The highly artistic but also highly illegal set of French lithographs?


[User] Everything.

[Assistant] The amusing clock where the little man comes out and drops his trousers every half hour?


[User] Yes, yes, alright.

[Assistant] Very well, I accept. A man may fight for many things: his country, his principles, his friends, the glistening tear on the cheek of a golden child. But personally I’d mud wrestle my own mother for a ton of cash, an amusing clock, and a sack of French porn. You’re on.


[User] Hurrah! The Duel ——–

[Assistant] Right Baldrick, now here’s the plan. When he offers me the swords, I kick him in the nuts and you set fire to the building. In the confusion we claim a draw.


[User] Ah, Your Highness. Let’s be about our business.

[Assistant] Now don’t forget Baldrick. You when I .


[User] Come sir. Choose your stoker.

[Assistant] What, are we going to tickle each other to death?


[User] No sir. We fight with cannon.

[Assistant] But I thought we were fighting with swords.


[User] Swords! What do you think this is, the middle ages? Only girls fight with swords these days. Stand by your gun sir. Hup two three. Hup two three.

[Assistant] Wait a minute, what the…


[User] Stand by cannon for loading procedure… Stoke. Muzzle. Wrench. Crank the storm barrel. Pull tee bar.

[Assistant] “Congratulations on choosing the Armstrong Whitworth four-pounder cannonette. Please read the instructions carefully and it should give years of trouble free maiming.”


[User] Check elevation. Chart trajectory. Prime fuse. Aim…

[Assistant] Look, wait a minute.


[User] Mr. B., Mr. B.! Sir, please help me get his coat off.

[Assistant] Leave it Baldrick. It doesn’t matter.


[User] You die like a man sir. In combat.

[Assistant] You think so? Dammit, we must build a better world. When will the killing end?


[User] You don’t think I too dream of peace? You don’t think that I too yearn to end this damn dirty job we call soldiering?

[Assistant] Frankly, no. My final wish on this Earth is that Baldrick be sold, to provide funds for a Blackadder foundation to promote peace, and to do research into the possibility of an automatic machine for cleaning shoes. And so I charge…


[User] His Highness is dead.

[Assistant] Actually, I’m not sure I am. Fortunately that cigarillo box you gave me was placed exactly at the point where the cannon-ball struck. . I always said smoking was good for you.


[User] I die. I hope men will say of me that I did duty by my country.

[Assistant] I think that’s pretty unlikely sir. If I was you I’d try for something a bit more realistic.


[User] Like what?

[Assistant] That you hope men will think of you.. as a bit of a thicky.


[User] Someone told me my son was here. I wish him to marry this rose bush. I want to make the wedding arrangements.

[Assistant] Here I am, Daddy. This is the Iron Duke, Wellington, commander of all your armed forces.


[User] Bravo. You know, my son, for the first time in my life I have a real fatherly feeling about you. People may say I’m stark raving mad and say the word Penguin after each sentence, but I believe that we two can make Britain Great – you as the Prince Regent and I as King Penguin.

[Assistant] Well, let’s hope eh? Wellington, will you come and dine with us at the palace? My family have a lot to thank you for.


[User] Ah, wunderbar er hoff seiht. Ja.

[Assistant] Oh and Baldrick? Clear away that dead butler will you.


[User] I’m carving something on this bullet sir.

[Assistant] What are you carving?


[User] I’m carving “Baldrick”, sir.

[Assistant] Why?


[User] It’s part of a cunning plan, Sir.

[Assistant] Of course it is.


[User] You see, you know they say that somewhere there’s a bullet with your name on it?

[Assistant] Yes?


[User] Well, I thought if I owned the bullet with my name on it, I’d never get hit by it, ‘cos I won’t ever shoot myself.

[Assistant] Oh, shame.


[User] And, the chances of there being two bullets with my name on them are very small indeed.

[Assistant] That’s not the only thing around here that’s “very small indeed”. Your brain for example, is so minute, Baldrick, that if a hungry cannibal cracked your head open there wouldn’t be enough inside to cover a small water-biscuit.


[User] Tally-ho pip-pip and Bernard’s your uncle.

[Assistant] In English we say, “Good Morning”.


[User] Look what I got for you sir.

[Assistant] What?


[User] It’s the latest issue of “King & Country”. Oh, damn inspiring stuff; the magazine that tells the Tommies the truth about the war.

[Assistant] Or alternatively, the greatest work of fiction since vows of fidelity were included in the French marriage service.


[User] Come, come, sir, now. You can’t deny that this fine newspaper is good for the morale of the men.

[Assistant] Certainly not, I just think that more could be achieved by giving them some real toilet-paper.


[User] Not with you at all sir, what could any patriotic chap have against this magnificent mag?

[Assistant] Apart from his bottom?


[User] Yes.

[Assistant] Well look at it. I mean the stuff’s about as convincing as Dr. Crippen’s defence lawyer. The British Tommies are all portrayed as six foot six with biceps the size of Bournemouth.


[User] Thoroughly inspiring stuff. And look sir, this also arrived for you this morning.

[Assistant] Hmm, do you know what this is, Lieutenant?


[User] It’s a good old service revolver.

[Assistant] Wrong. It’s a brand new service revolver, which I’ve suspiciously been sent without asking for it. I smell something fishy, and I’m not talking about the contents of Baldrick’s apple crumble.


[User] That’s funny sir, because we didn’t order those new trench-climbing ladders either.

[Assistant] New ladders?


[User] Yes sir, first solid fuel we’ve had since we burned the cat.

[Assistant] Something’s going on, and I think I can make an educated guess what it is. Something which you, George, would find hard to do.


[User] Ah, true, true. Where I was at school, education could go hang as long as a boy could hit a six, sing the school song very loud, and take a hot crumpet from behind without blubbing.

[Assistant] I, on the other hand, am a fully rounded human being with a degree from the university of life, a diploma from the school of hard knocks, and three gold stars from the kindergarten of getting the shit kicked out of me. My instincts lead me to deduce that we are at last about to go over the top.


[User] Great Scott sir, you mean, you mean the moment’s finally arrived for us to give Harry Hun a darned good British style thrashing, six of the best, trousers down?

[Assistant] If you mean, “Are we all going to get killed?” Yes. Clearly, Field Marshal Haig is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to Berlin.


[User] Right! Bravo-issimo! Well let’s make a start eh, up and over to glory, last one in Berlin’s a rotten egg.

[Assistant] Give me your helmet, lieutenant.


[User] Permission to speak sir.

[Assistant] Granted, with a due sense of exhaustion and dread.


[User] I have a cunning plan to get us out of getting killed sir.

[Assistant] Ah yes, what is it?


[User] Cooking.

[Assistant] I see.


[User] You know staff HQ is always on the lookout for good cooks? Well, we go over there, we cook ’em something, and get out of the trenches that way.

[Assistant] Baldrick, it’s a brilliant plan.


[User] Is it?

[Assistant] Yes, it’s superb.


[User] Permission to write home immediately sir, this is the first brilliant plan a Baldrick’s ever had! For centuries we’ve tried, and they’ve always turned out to be total pig-swill. My mother will be as pleased as Punch.

[Assistant] Hm-hm, if only she were as good-looking as Punch, Baldrick. There is however one slight flaw in the plan.


[User] Oh?

[Assistant] You’re the worst cook in the entire world.


[User] Oh yeah, that’s right.

[Assistant] There are amoeba on Saturn who can boil a better egg than you. Your Filet Mignon in sauce Bernaise look like dog-turds in glue.


[User] That’s because they are.

[Assistant] Your plum-duff tastes like it’s a molehill decorated with rabbit-droppings.


[User] I thought you wouldn’t notice.

[Assistant] Your cream custard has the texture of cat’s vomit.


[User] Again it’s…..

[Assistant] If you were to serve one of your meals in staff HQ you’d be arrested for the greatest mass poisoning since Lucretia Borgia invited 500 of her close friends around for a wine-and-anthrax party. No, we’ll have to think of a better plan than that.


[User] Right, how about a nice meal, while you chew it over?

[Assistant] What’s on the menu?


[User] Rat. Saute or fricassee.

[Assistant] Oh, the agony of choice. Saute involves…?


[User] Well, you take the freshly shaved rat, and you marinade it in a puddle for a while.

[Assistant] Hmm, for how long?


[User] Until it’s drowned. Then you stretch it out under a hot light bulb, then you get within dashing distance of the latrine, and then you scoff it right down.

[Assistant] So that’s sauteing, and fricasseeing?


[User] Exactly the same, just a slightly bigger rat.

[Assistant] Well, call me Old Mr. Un-adventurous but I think I’ll give it a miss this once.


[User] Absolutely, Private. Tally-ho BARF BARF.

[Assistant] Hello, the Savoy Grill. Oh, it’s you….. yes….. yes, I’ll be over in 40 minutes.


[User] Who was it then sir?

[Assistant] Strangely enough Baldrick, it was Pope Gregory IX, inviting me for drinks aboard his steam-yacht “The Saucy Sue”, currently wintering in Montego Bay with the England Cricket team and the Balinese goddess of plenty.


[User] Really?

[Assistant] No, not really. I’m ordered to HQ. No doubt that idiot General Melchett is about to offer me some attractive new opportunities to have my brains blown out for Britain. ————— What do you want, Darling?


[User] Ah, yes, the special mission. At ease Blackadder. Now, what I’m about to tell you is absolutely tip-top-secret, is that clear?

[Assistant] It is sir.


[User] So, it’s maximum security, is that clear?

[Assistant] Quite so sir, only myself and the rest of the English speaking world is to know.


[User] Good man. Now, Field Marshal Haig has formulated a brilliant new tactical plan to ensure final victory in the field.

[Assistant] Now, would this brilliant plan involve us climbing out of our trenches and walking slowly towards the enemy sir?


[User] How can you possibly know that Blackadder? It’s classified information.

[Assistant] It’s the same plan that we used last time, and the seventeen times before that.


[User] E-E-Exactly! And that is what so brilliant about it! We will catch the watchful Hun totally off guard! Doing precisely what we have done eighteen times before is exactly the last thing they’ll expect us to do this time! There is however one small problem.

[Assistant] That everyone always gets slaughtered the first ten seconds.


[User] That’s right! And Field Marshal Haig is worried that this may be depressing the men a tadge. So, he’s looking to find a way to cheer them up.

[Assistant] Well, his resignation and suicide would seem the obvious solution.


[User] Interesting thought. Make a note of it, Darling! Take a look at this: “King & Country”.

[Assistant] Ah, yes, without question my favourite magazine; soft, strong and thoroughly absorbent.


[User] Top-hole Blackadder, I thought it would be right up your alley. Now, Field Marshal Haig’s plan is this; to commission a man to do an especially stirring painting for the cover of the next issue, so as to really inspire the men for the final push. What I want you to do, Blackadder, is to labour night and day to find a first rate artist from amongst your men.

[Assistant] Impossible sir. I know from long experience that my men have all the artistic talent of a cluster of colourblind hedgehogs… in a bag.


[User] Hm, well that’s a bit of a blow. We needed a man to leave the trenches immediately.

[Assistant] Leave the trenches?


[User] Yes.

[Assistant] Yes, I wonder if you’ve enjoyed, as I have sir, that marvellous painting in the National Portrait Gallery, “Bag Interior”, by the colourblind hedgehog workshop of Sienna.


[User] I’m sorry, are you saying you can find this man?

[Assistant] I think I can. And might I suggest sir that having left the trenches, it might be a good idea to post our man to Paris , in order to soak up a little of the artistic atmosphere. Perhaps even Tahiti


[User] Yes, yes, but can you find the man?!

[Assistant] Now I know I can sir. Before you say “Sunflowers” I’ll have Vincent van Gogh standing before you. —————


[User] No, don’t stop sir. It’s coming, it’s definitely coming. I, hm, yeah, ah, er, hm. I just wonder if two socks and a hand-grenade is really the sort of thing that covers of “King & Country” are made of.

[Assistant] They will be when I painted them being shoved up the Kaiser’s backside.


[User] Ah, now, now this is interesting.

[Assistant] What is?


[User] Well, Private Baldrick is obviously some kind of an impressionist.

[Assistant] The only impression he can do is of a man with no talent. What’s it called Baldrick? “The Vomiting Cavalier”?


[User] Yeah, you told me to paint whatever comes from within, so I did my breakfast. Look, there’s a little tomato.

[Assistant] Hopeless. If only I’d paid attention in nursery art-class instead of spending my entire time manufacturing papier-mache willies to frighten Sarah Wallis.


[User] You know it’s funny, but painting was the only thing I was ever any good at.

[Assistant] Well, it’s a pity you didn’t keep it up.


[User] Well, as a matter of fact I did, actually. I mean I mean normally I hadn’t thought I would show them to anyone, because they’re just embarrassing daubs really, but you know, ah, they give me pleasure. I’m embarrassed to show them to you now as it happens, but there you go, for what they’re worth. To be honest, I should have my hands cut off, I mean…

[Assistant] George! These are brilliant! Why didn’t you tell us about these before?


[User] Well you know, one doesn’t want to blow one’s own trumpet.

[Assistant] You might at least have told us you had a trumpet. These paintings could spell my way out of the trenches.


[User] Yours?

[Assistant] That’s right, ours. All you have to do is paint something heroic to appeal to the simple-minded Tommy. Over to you Baldrick.


[User] Excellent. I, I can see it now; “The Nun and the Hun”.

[Assistant] Brilliant! No time to lose. George, set up your easel, Baldrick and I will pose. This is going to be art’s greatest moment since Mona Lisa sat down and told Leonardo da Vinci she was in a slightly odd mood. Baldrick, you lie down in the mud and be the nun.


[User] I’m not lying down there, it’s all wet.

[Assistant] Well, let’s put it this way; either you lie down and get wet, or you’re knocked down and get a broken nose.


[User] Actually it’s not that wet, is it?

[Assistant] No.


[User] Who are you going to be then sir? The noble Tommy?

[Assistant] Precisely, standing over the body of the ravaged nun.


[User] I want a wimple.

[Assistant] You should have gone before we started the picture.


[User] You know, the funny thing is, my father was a nun.

[Assistant] No he wasn’t.


[User] He was so, sir. I know, ‘cos whenever he was up in court, and the judge used to say “occupation”, he’d say “nun”.

[Assistant] Right. You’re ready?


[User] Just about sir, yes. Erm, if you just like to pop your clothes on the stool.

[Assistant] I’m sorry?


[User] Just pop your clothes on the stool over there.

[Assistant] You mean, you want me… tackle out?


[User] Well, I would prefer so sir, yes.

[Assistant] If I can remind you of the realities of battle George, one of the first things that everyone notices is that all the protagonists have got their clothes on. Neither we, nor the Hun, favour fighting our battles “au naturel”.


[User] Sir, it’s artistic licence. It’s willing suspension of disbelief.

[Assistant] Well, I’m not having anyone staring in disbelief at my willie suspension. Now, get on and paint the bloody thing, sharpish! ————— Brilliant George, it’s a masterpiece. The wimple suits you Baldrick.


[User] But it completely covers my face.

[Assistant] Exactly. Now then, General Melchett will be here at any moment. When he arrives, leave the talking to me, all right? I like to keep an informal trench, as you know, but today you must only speak with my express permission, is that clear? Is that clear?


[User] Oh, yes, of course. Good Lord, George, hahahaaa, how are you my boy? I said how are you?

[Assistant] Permission to speak.


[User] Splendid! And your uncle Bertie sends his regards. I told him you could have a week off in April; we don’t want you missing the Boat Race, do we?

[Assistant] Permission to speak.


[User] Certainly not. Permission to sing boisterously sir?

[Assistant] If you must.


[User] gently down the stream. Belts off, trousers down, isn’t life a scream. HAI!

[Assistant] Fabulous, university education, you can’t beat it.


[User] Bravo, now what have we here? Name?

[Assistant] Permission to speak.


[User] Ah, tally-ho, yippety-dip, and zing zang spillip. Looking forward to bullying off for the final chukka?

[Assistant] Permission to speak. Answer the General Baldrick.


[User] The healthy humour of the honest Tommy. Hahaaa, don’t worry my boy, if you should falter, remember that Captain Darling and I are behind you.

[Assistant] About thirty-five miles behind you.


[User] So, ah, have you found someone?

[Assistant] Yes sir, I think I have; none other than young George here.


[User] Oh, bravo. Well, let’s have a shufti then.

[Assistant] This is called “War”.


[User] Ah, permission to speak sir?!

[Assistant] Er, I think not actually.


[User] No sir!

[Assistant] There is this sir, it’s Private Baldrick’s, he’s called it “My family and other animals”.


[User] Oh, good Lord no.

[Assistant] Well, I’m afraid that’s about it sir. Apart from … this little thing.


[User] Who painted this Blackadder?

[Assistant] Well actually it was me.


[User] Damn and blast your goggly eyes! Will you stop interrupting, George! Now, this is excellent! Congratulations man! It’s totally inspiring, makes you want to jump over the top and yell “Yah-boo sucks to you, Fritsie”.

[Assistant] Thank you sir.


[User] Are you sure you did this, Blackadder?

[Assistant] Of course I’m sure.


[User] I’m afraid I don’t believe you.

[Assistant] How dare you Darling!? You know I can’t let that slur pass, sir… What possible low, suspicious, slanderous reasons could this “office-boy” have to think that I didn’t paint the picture?


[User] Well, three reasons as a matter of fact. Firstly: you’re in it.

[Assistant] It’s a self-portrait.


[User] Secondly: you told us you couldn’t paint.

[Assistant] Well, one doesn’t want to blow one’s own trumpet.


[User] Permission…

[Assistant] Denied.


[User] And thirdly: it’s signed “George”.

[Assistant] Well spotted. But not signed “George”, dedicated “to George”, King George. Gentlemen; The King!


[User] Permission to jolly well speak right now sir, otherwise I might just burst like a bally balloon.

[Assistant] Later George. Much later. —————


[User] Congratulations on your new appointment, Blackadder.

[Assistant] Thank you sir.


[User] And may I say Blackadder, I’m particularly pleased about it.

[Assistant] Are you.


[User] Now that you are our official war-artist, we can give you the full briefing. The fact is, Blackadder, that the “King & Country” cover story was just a… cover story. We want you, as our top painting bod, to leave the trenches…

[Assistant] Good.


[User] Tonight…

[Assistant] Suits me.


[User] And go out into no-man’s-land.

[Assistant] No-man’s-land.


[User] Yeeeeeees.

[Assistant] Not Paris. Melchett and Darling: Noooooooo.


[User] We want you to come back with accurate drawings of the enemy positions.

[Assistant] You want me to sit in no-man’s-land, painting pictures of the Germans.


[User] Precisely! Good man!

[Assistant] Well, it’s a very attractive proposition, gentlemen, but unfortunately not practical. You see, my medium is light. It’ll be pitch dark; I won’t be able to see a thing.


[User] Ah, hm, that is a point. I tell you what: we’ll send up a couple of flares. You’ll be lit up like a Christmas tree.

[Assistant] Oh, excellent, excellent, glad I checked. ————— All right, total and utter quiet, do you understand? So for instance if any of us crawl over any barbed wire they must on no account goaaAAAAAAAAAAHH!


[User] Have you just crawled over some barbed wire sir?

[Assistant] No Baldrick, I just put my elbow in a blob of ice cream.


[User] Oh, that’s all right then.

[Assistant] Now, where the hell are we?


[User] Well, it’s difficult to say, we appear to have crawled into an area marked with mushrooms.

[Assistant] What do those symbols denote?


[User] Pfff. That we’re in a field of mushrooms?

[Assistant] Lieutenant, that is a military map, it is unlikely to list interesting flora and fungi. Look at the key and you’ll discover that those mushrooms aren’t for picking.


[User] Good Lord, you’re quite right sir, it says “mine”. So, these mushrooms must belong to the man who made the map.

[Assistant] Either that, or we’re in the middle of a mine-field.


[User] So, he owns the field as well? THEY’RE FIRING SIR, THEY’RE FIRING.

[Assistant] Ah yes, thank you Lieutenant. If they hit me you’ll be sure to point it out, won’t you. Now come on, get on with your drawing and let’s get out of here.


[User] Well, surely we ought to wait for the flare sir? You see, my medium is light.

[Assistant] Just use your imagination for heavens sake. Wait a minute, that’s the answer. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid.


[User] Well, I’m not over-furnished in the brain department.

[Assistant] Well, on this occasion I’ve been stupidest of all.


[User] Stupidest stupids in the whole history of stupidityness.

[Assistant] Finished? I think the obvious point is this: we’ll go straight out to the dugout and do the painting from there. You do the most imaginative, most exciting possible drawing of German defences from your imagination.


[User] Oh I see, now that is a challenge.

[Assistant] Quite. Come on, let’s get out of here.


[User] Oh sir, just one thing. If we should happen to tread on a mine, what do we do?

[Assistant] Well, normal procedure, Lieutenant, is to jump 200 feet into the air and scatter yourself over a wide area. —————


[User] Are you sure this is what you saw Blackadder?

[Assistant] Absolutely. I mean there may have been a few more armament factories, and not quite as many elephants, but…


[User] Damn!

[Assistant] What a nuisance…


[User] …Exactly what the enemy would expect us to do, and therefore exactly what we shan’t do!

[Assistant] Ah.


[User] Now, if we attack where the line is strongest, then Fritz will think that our reconnaissance is a total shambles. This will lull him into a sense of false security, and then next week we can attack where the line is actually badly defended. And win the greatest victory since the Winchester flower-arranging team beat Harrow by twelve sore bottoms to one!

[Assistant] Tell me, have you ever visited the planet Earth, sir?


[User] That’s the spirit. Just your kind of caper eheh, Blackadder?

[Assistant] Oh yes.


[User] Good luck against those elephants…

[Assistant] Get me a chisel and some marble Baldrick.


[User] Oh, you’re taking up sculpture now sir?

[Assistant] No, I thought I’d get my headstone done.


[User] What are you going to put on it?

[Assistant] “Here lies Edmund Blackadder, and he’s bloody annoyed.”


[User] Are we goin’ over, are we sir?

[Assistant] Yes, we are. Unless I can think of some brilliant plan.


[User] Would you like some “rat-au-van” to help you think?

[Assistant] “Rat-au-vin”?


[User] Yeah, it’s rat that’s been…

[Assistant] ..run over by a van. No thank you Baldrick. Although it gives me an idea. Telephone please. —————


[User] Well all jolly good fun sir. But dash it all, we appear to have missed the big push.

[Assistant] Oh damn, so we have. One thing puzzles me Baldrick; how did you manage to get so much custard out of such a small cat? You’d like to book a table for three by the window for 9.30 PM, not too near the band, in the name of Obel-ointment Fungentula. Yes, yes, I think you might have the wrong number. Alright.


[User] Rather close line there, eh sir? That phone system is a shambles no wonder we haven’t had any orders!

[Assistant] Oh, on the contrary, George, we’ve had plenty of orders. We have orders for six meters of Hungarian crushed velvet curtain material, four rock salmon and a ha’pence of chips and a cab for a Mr. Redgrave picking up from 14 Arnost Grove Raintop Bell.


[User] Rather we don’t want those sort of orders, we want orders to Death Or Glory. When are we going to give Fritz a taste of our British spunk?

[Assistant] George, please. No one is more anxious to advance than I am, but until I get these communication problems sorted out, I’m afraid we’re stuck. Captain Blackadder speaking…..no, I’m afraid the line’s very cclllffffhhtttt!


[User] Hello? Hello, Captain Blackadder, hello?

[Assistant] Schenll, schenll, Die Koppeltop, I said, there’s a terrible line at my end. You are to advance on the enemy at once. “A wandering minstrel eye in the… ..on Gail Force Eight.


[User] I say, come on, sir, what’s the message? I’m on tenterhooks, do tell!

[Assistant] Well, as far as I can tell, the message was, “he’s got a terrible lion up his end, so there’s an advantage to an enema at once.”


[User] Ah, now, this should be it. A telegram ordering an advance!

[Assistant] Ummm yes, I’m afraid not, George, it is a telegram, it is ordering an advance, but it seems to be addressed to ‘Catpain Blackudder’. Do you know a ‘Catpain Blackudder’, George?


[User] Well, it rings a bell, but I..

[Assistant] Ouhh…..nope, me neither.


[User] Oh well.

[Assistant] Go away George, I’m sure if they want to contact us, they’ll find a way.


[User] No, it isn’t, that pigeon couldn’t carry the King! Hasn’t got a tray or anything.

[Assistant] Hands, revolver please.


[User] Oh now, sir, you really shouldn’t do this you know!

[Assistant] Come on George, with 50,000 men getting killed a week who’s going to miss a pigeon?


[User] Well, not you, obviously, sir.

[Assistant] In any case, its’s scarcely a court martial offence. Get plucking, Baldrick.


[User] It’s a bit charred. Something something at once..PS, due to communication crisis, the shooting of carrier pigeons is now a court martial offence. I don’t see what’s so funny about that, sir.

[Assistant] That’s not funny, it’s deadly serious, we’re in trouble. So, I shall eat the evidence for lunch and if anyone asks you any questions at all, we didn’t receive any messages and we definitely did not shoot this plump breasted pigeon. Umm..delicious.


[User] And why, Captain, are you not advancing across No Man’s Land?

[Assistant] Well, sir, call me a bluff old traditionalist, but I was always taught to wait for the order to attack before attacking.


[User] That’s a flagrant lie, sir. I spoke to Blackadder less than an hour ago.

[Assistant] Yes you did. To tell me some gobbledygook about having a lion up your bottom.


[User] I must say sir, I find this all very unlikely. Not only did I telephone Blackadder, but as you’ll recall, we sent him a telegram and a carrier pigeon.

[Assistant] Did you?


[User] Are you telling us you haven’t had a pigeon, Blackadder?

[Assistant] Um, Ahh!


[User] WHAT???????

[Assistant] You want to be cremated, Baldrick or buried at sea?


[User] Not at all, sir. We didn’t get any messages and Blackadder definitely did not shoot this delicious plump breasted pigeon.

[Assistant] Good.


[User] Captain Blackadder, as of this moment you may consider yourself under arrest. You know what the penalty is for disobeying orders, Blackadder?

[Assistant] Umm..court-martial, followed by immediate cessation of chocolate rations?


[User] No, court-martial followed by immediate death by firing squad.

[Assistant] Oh, so I got it half right.


[User] Sadder than a happy hour then, sir? Wave all our last goodbyes.

[Assistant] Oh, no need for that, Perkins, I’ll just dash off a couple of notes, one asking for a sponge bag, and the other sending for my lawyer.


[User] Oh, your lawyer now, yes sir. Don’t you think that might be a bit of a waste of money, sir.

[Assistant] Not when he’s the finest mind in English legal history. Ever heard of Bob Massingbird?


[User] Oh, yes indeed, sir! A most gifted gentleman!

[Assistant] I remember Massingbird’s most famous case, the case of the bloody knife. A man was found next to a murdered body, he had the knife in his hand, thirteen witnesses that seen him stab the victim, when the police arrived he said, “I’m glad I killed the bastard.” Massingbird not only got him off, but he got him knighted in the New Year’s Honours list, and the relatives of the victim had to pay to have the blood washed out of his jacket.


[User] There is a job under the prosecution involved, sir.

[Assistant] Yes, well, look at Oscar Wilde.


[User] Oh, butch, Oscar.

[Assistant] Ahh, big, bearded, bonking, butch Oscar. The terror of the ladies. 114 illegitimate children, world heavyweight boxing champion, and author of the best-selling pamphlet, “Why I Like To Do It With Girls”. Massingbird had him sent down for being a whoopsie. Ah, Baldrick. Anything from Massingbird yet?


[User] Yes, sir. It just arrived, sir.

[Assistant] What is it?


[User] Sponge bag, sir.

[Assistant] A sponge bag. Baldrick, I gave you two notes. You sent the note asking for a sponge bag to the finest mind in English legal history.


[User] Certainly did, sir!

[Assistant] And you sent the note requesting legal representation to…


[User] Well, tally-ho, with a bing and a bong and a buzz-buzz-buzz!

[Assistant] Oh God!


[User] I’ll tell you, apart from all, sir, that I am deeply, deeply honoured.

[Assistant] Baldrick, I’ll deal you later. Am I to understand that you are going to represent me at the court-martial?


[User] Absolutely, sir. Well, it’s a sort of family tradition, really. My uncle’s a lawyer, you know.

[Assistant] Your uncle’s a lawyer, but you’re not.


[User] Oh, good lord, no. I’m absolute duffer at this sort of thing. In school the basing society, I was voted the boy least likely to complete a coherent…um…an oops…yes, anyway, my dear old friend, its an honour to serve.

[Assistant] George, I’m in trouble here. I need to construct that’s as watertight as a mermaid’s brassiere. I’m not sure your particular brand of mindless optimism is going to contribute much to the proceedings.


[User] Well, that’s a shame, sir, because I was planning on playing the mindless optimism card very strongly.

[Assistant] I beg your pardon?


[User] Yes, I’ve already planned my closing address based on that very thing. Oh, go on, let him off, your honour, please! It’s a lovely day. Pretty clouds, trees, birds, etc. I rest my case.

[Assistant] So, council, with that summing up in mind, what do you think my chances are?


[User] Well, not all that good I’m afraid, as far as I can tell you’re as guilty as a puppy sitting next to a pile of poo.

[Assistant] Ah.


[User] Crikey! So sorry I’m late, my luv. A voice: ‘allo. But anyway, let me open up my defence straight away, by saying that I’ve known this man for three years, he’s an absolutely gawking chap.

[Assistant] George?


[User] Yes, sir?

[Assistant] That’s the clerk of the court.


[User] Is it? Oh!

[Assistant] We haven’t started yet.


[User] Good luck, Blackadder.

[Assistant] Well, thank you, Darling. And what’s your big job here today? Straightening chairs?


[User] No, in fact I’m appearing for the prosecution. I wouldn’t raise your hopes too much, you’re guilty as hell, you haven’t got a chance.

[Assistant] Why thank you, Darling. And I hope your mother dies in a freak yachting accident.


[User] Just doing my job, Blackadder.

[Assistant] Obeying orders, and of course, having enormous fun into the bargain. I wouldn’t be too confident if I were you, any reasonably impartial judge is bound to let me off.


[User] Well, absolutely.

[Assistant] Who is the judge, by the way?


[User] Me!

[Assistant] I’m dead.


[User] Well, come on, then. Come on. Get this over in five minutes, and then we can have a spot of lunch. The court is now in session, General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett in the chair. The case before us is that of the crown vs. Captain Edmund Blackadder, the Flanders pigeon murderer! Oh, uh hand me the black cap, I’ll be needing that.

[Assistant] I love a fair trial.


[User] Perfectly true, sir. I was there.

[Assistant] Thanks George.


[User] …10:30am, 11:46am…

[Assistant] George!


[User] What? Oh, oh ye-ye-right, yes. Thank you, Captain. No further questions.

[Assistant] Well done, George. You really had him on the ropes.


[User] Don’t worry, old man. I have a last and I think you’ll find decisive witness. Call Private Baldrick.

[Assistant] Deny everything, Baldrick.


[User] Very good, excellent, first class. Carry on. I therefore have ab- absolutely no hesitation in announcing that the sentence of this court is: that you Captain Edmund Blackadder be taken from this place and shot to death by shooting tomorrow at dawn. . Do you have anything to say?

[Assistant] Yes, can I have an alarm call, please?


[User] Someone to see the Captain?

[Assistant] What does he look like?


[User] Short, ugly…

[Assistant] Hello Baldrick.


[User] I brought you some food, sir, for your final breakfast tomorrow.

[Assistant] Ah, so you’re not pinning much hope on a last minute reprieve then.


[User] No sir, you are as dead as some doo-doos.

[Assistant] The expression, Baldrick, is ‘as a do-do’. ‘Dead as a do-do’.


[User] Do not despair, sir. All my talk of food was just a dead herring. In fact, I have a cunning plan. This is not food, but an escape kit.

[Assistant] Good Lord! A saw, a hammer, a chisel, a gun, a change of clothes, a Swiss passport, and a huge false moustache, I may just stand a chance.


[User] Ah….

[Assistant] Let’s see, what have we here? A small painted wooden duck.


[User] Yeah, I thought if you get caught near water, you can balance it on the top of your head as a brilliant disguise.

[Assistant] Yeeeesss, I would, of course, have to escape first. Ah, but what’s this, unless I’m much mistaken, a hammer and a chisel?


[User] You are much mistaken!

[Assistant] A pencil and a miniature trumpet.


[User] Yes, a pencil so you can drop me a postcard to tell me how the break out went and a small little tiny miniature trumpet in case during your escape, you have to win favour with a difficult child.

[Assistant] Baldrick, I don’t want to spend my last precious hours rummaging through this feeble collection of stocking-fillers. Now let me ask you some simple questions: is there are a saw in this bag?


[User] No.

[Assistant] A hammer?


[User] No.

[Assistant] A chisel?


[User] No.

[Assistant] A gun?


[User] No.

[Assistant] A false passport?


[User] No.

[Assistant] A change of clothes?


[User] Yes sir, of course I wouldn’t forget a change of clothes.

[Assistant] Ah, now that’s something, let’s see…..a Robin Hood costume.


[User] I put in a French peasant’s outfit first, but then I thought ‘What if you arrive in a French peasant’s village and they’re in the middle of a fancy dress party?’

[Assistant] And what if I arrive in a French peasant village, dressed in a Robin Hood costume and there isn’t a fancy dress party?


[User] Well, to be quite frank sir, I didn’t consider that eventuality, because if you did, you’d stick out like a…..

[Assistant] Like a man standing in a lake with a small painted wooden duck on his head?


[User] Excuse me, sir.

[Assistant] Alright. Aaahhmm, thank you, Baldrick, we’ll finish this picnic later.


[User] Do you mind if I disturb you for a moment, sir?

[Assistant] No, no, not at all. My diary’s pretty empty this week. Let’s see, Thursday morning, get shot, yes, that’s about it, actually.


[User] It’s just there’s a few chaps out here would like a bit of a chinwag.

[Assistant] Oh, lovely. Always keen to meet new people.


[User] Hello

[Assistant] Oh, nice of you to drop by. And what do you do?


[User] We’re your firing squad, sir.

[Assistant] Of course you are. Squad man 2: Good sized chest.


[User] Shut up, lad. Squad man 2: Sir! You see, us firing squads are a bit like taxmen, sir, everyone hates us, but we’re just doin’ our job, ‘aven’t we, sir?

[Assistant] My heart bleeds for you.


[User] Well, sir, we aim to please. Just a little firing squad joke there, sir! You see, sir, we take pride in the termanatory service we supply. So, is there any particular area you’d like us to go for, hmm? We can aim anywhere.

[Assistant] Well, in that case, just above my head might be a good spot.


[User] You see, a laugh and a smile, and all of a sudden the job doesn’t seem quite so bad after all, does it sir? Squad man 2: No, and a lovely roomy forehead. Squad man 3: A good pulse and jugular, there as well.

[Assistant] Look, I’m sorry, I know you mean to be friendly, but I hope you won’t take it amiss if I ask you to sod off and die.


[User] No, no, no, no, no, no, no, fair enough, ‘course not, sir. No one likes being shot first thing in the morning, do they? No, no, no, So, look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sir. You’ll have a blindfold on of course, but you’ll recognize me. I’m the one that says, “Ready, aim, fire!”

[Assistant] Can I ask you to leave a pause between the word “aim” and the word “fire”? Thirty or forty years, perhaps?


[User] Ahh, wish I could pause, sir. I really wish I could, but I can’t, you see, cos I’m a gabbler, you see.

[Assistant] Perfect! I wonder if anything on earth could depress me more?


[User] Excuse me, sir?

[Assistant] Of course it could.


[User] I forgot to give you this letter from Lieutenant George, sir.

[Assistant] Ahh! Oh, joy! What wise words from the world’s greatest defence counsel. ‘Dear Mother,’……un- usual start, ‘thanks for the case of Scotch.’ You’ve excelled yourself, Baldrick. You’ve brought the wrong letter again!


[User] Ohh yeah, he did write two.

[Assistant] Yes, his mother’s about to get a note, telling her he’s sorry she’s going to be shot in the morning…..while I have to read this drivel. ‘Count Celia thrives in the Pony Club trials and that little Freddy scores a century for the first eleven’. You can’t deny, it’s a riveting read…uhhh, ‘Send my love to Uncle Rupert’, who’d have thought it, Mad Uncle Rupert, Minister of War. Power of life or death over every bally soldier in the army. Hang on a minute…..this is it! All George has to do is send him a telegram and he’ll get me off. Baldrick, I love you! I want to kiss your cherry lips and nibble your shell-like ears. I’m freeeee!


[User] Captain Blackadder and Freedom, sir.

[Assistant] ‘Morning.


[User] I must say, Captain, I’ve got to admire your balls.

[Assistant] Perhaps later. How are you doing?


[User] Very well, good.

[Assistant] Robinson, good to see you.


[User] Good to see you, too, sir.

[Assistant] Ahh, Corporal, how’s the voice?


[User] Excellent, sir.

[Assistant] So the phone’s on the hook, is it Perkins?


[User] Oh yes, sir.

[Assistant] So, where do you want me?


[User] Well, up against the wall is traditional, sir.

[Assistant] Course it is. Ah…this side or the other side? No messengers waiting, Perkins?


[User] Alright, lads, line up.

[Assistant] Yes, uahh…now look, I think there might have been a bit of a mis- understanding, you see. I was expecting a telegram.


[User] ATTENTION!

[Assistant] Quite an important one, actually.


[User] TAKE AIM! A voice: Stop!

[Assistant] I think that’s what they call ‘the nick of time’.


[User] Letter for the Captain.

[Assistant] Of course it is. Read it please.


[User] You soft bastards, you! Squad Man 2: After all we’ve got, I couldn’t resist it.

[Assistant] How thoughtful!


[User] ATTENTION!

[Assistant] Now look, ah, something has gone spectacularly badly wrong.


[User] TAKE AIM!

[Assistant] Baldrick, you’re mincemeat!


[User] Oh no. He’s dead, you see. He’s dead dead dead because we’re a pair of selfish so and so’s…. oh, course, if I have a rope, I’d put it around my neck and bally well hanged myself until it really hurt.

[Assistant] Hi, George, ‘morning, Baldrick. Still the striking resemblance to guppy fish at feeding time. Yep, it arrived in the nick of time.


[User] Oh, excellent!

[Assistant] Ah, so you’ve got the Scotch out, haven’t we?


[User] Oh, well, well, of course, sir, yes. We wanted to lay on a bit of a bash for your safe return, ah..here you go.

[Assistant] There was a second telegram that arrived actually George, addressed personally to you by your Uncle.


[User] Oh, thank you, I….

[Assistant] ‘George, my boy, Outraged to read in dispatches how that ass Melchett made such a pig-ear out of your chum Blackadder’s court-martial. Have reversed the decision forthwith. Surprised you didn’t ask me to do it yourself, actually.’ Now this is interesting, isn’t it?


[User] Uh, uhh, yes, well, I, you see, sir. Uh..the thing is..

[Assistant] You two got whammed last night, didn’t you?


[User] We–well, well, no, uh, uh. not whammed exactly. A little tiddly, perhaps.

[Assistant] And you forgot the telegram to your Uncle!


[User] I think I can explain, sir.

[Assistant] Can you, Baldrick?


[User] No.

[Assistant] As I suspected. Now, I’m not a religious man, as you know. Henceforth, I shall nightly pray to the God, who killed Cain and squashed Sampson, that He comes out of retirement and gets back into practice on the pair of you! Captain Blackadder. Ah, Captain Darling. Well, you know, some of us just have friends in high places, I suppose. Yes, I can hear you per- fectly. You want what? You want two volunteers for a mission into No Man’s Land, Code name: Operation Certain Death. yes, yes I think I have just the fellows. God is very quick these days.


[User] You’re a bit cheesed off, sir?

[Assistant] George, the day this war began I was cheesed off. Within ten minutes of you turning up, I finished the cheese and moved on to the coffee and cigars. And at this late stage, I’m in a cab with two lady companions on my way to the Pink Pussycat in Lower Regency.


[User] Oh well, because if you are cheesed off, you know what would cheer you up, a lot of Charlie Chaplin films. Oh, I love Old Chappers, don’t you, Cap?

[Assistant] Unfortunately no I don’t. I find his films about as funny as getting an arrow through the neck and discovering there’s a gas bill tied to it.


[User] Ah, beg pardon, sir, but come off! His films are ball-bouncingly funny.

[Assistant] Rubbish!


[User] Oh sir, he’s as funny as a vegetable that’s grown into a rude and amusing shape, sir.

[Assistant] So you agree with me. Not at all funny?


[User] Oh come on, skipper, it ain’t fair. I haven’t asked for all of this. When he kicked that fellow in the backside, I thought I’d die!

[Assistant] Well, if that’s your idea of comedy, we can provide our own without for the privilege. There, you find that funny?


[User] Well, no of course not, sir, but you see, Chaplin is a genius.

[Assistant] He certainly is a genius, George. He invented a way of getting a million dollars a year by wearing stupid trousers. Did you find that funny, Baldrick?


[User] What funny, sir?

[Assistant] That funny.


[User] No sir, you mustn’t do that to me sir, because that is a bourgois act of repression, sir.

[Assistant] What?


[User] I think I smelt it sir, there’s something afoot in the wind. The huddled masses yearning to be free.

[Assistant] Baldrick, have you been through the diesel oil again?


[User] No sir, I’ve been sopping the milk of freedom. Already our Russian comrades are poised on the brink of Revolution. And here too, sir, the huddled what’s-names such as myself, sir, are ready to throw off the hated oppressors like you and the Lieutenant. Present company accepted, sir.

[Assistant] Go and clean out the latrines.


[User] Now the reason why Chaplin is so funny, because he’s part of a great British music hall tradition.

[Assistant] Oh yes, the Great British Music Hall Tradition. Two men, with incredibly unconvincing Cockney accents going, “what’s up with you then? What’s up with me then? Yeah, what’s up with you then? ” GET ON WITH IT!!!


[User] Now sir, that was funny! You should have gotten a part yourself!

[Assistant] Thank you, George, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather have my tongue beaten wafer-thin by a steak tenderiser and then stapled to the floor with a croquet hoop.


[User] Sir, sir, it’s all over the trenches!

[Assistant] Well, mop it up then.


[User] Well, hurrah!

[Assistant] Oh no, the Russians have pulled out of the war.


[User] Well, we soon sawed them off, didn’t we sir? Miserable slant-eye, sausage eating swine.

[Assistant] The Russians are on our side, George.


[User] Oh really?

[Assistant] And they’ve abandoned the Eastern Front.


[User] And they’ve overthrown Nicholas II who used to be bizarre.

[Assistant] Who used to be the czar, Baldrick. The point is, now that the Russians have made peace with the Kaiser. At this very moment, three quarters of a million Germans are leaving the Russian Front and coming over here with the express purpose of using my nipples for target practise. There’s only one thing for it, I’ll have to desert and I’m going to have to do it….right now.


[User] Are you leaving us, Blackadder?

[Assistant] No sir.


[User] Well I’m relieved to hear it. I need you to help me shoot more deserters later on. There have been some subversive mutterings amongst the men. You’ll recall the French army last year at Verdun where the top echelons suffered from horrendous uprisings from the bottom.

[Assistant] Yes sir, but surely that was traced to a shipment of garlic éclairs.


[User] Nonsense Blackadder! It was Bolshevist. Plain Bolshevist! And now that the Ruskys have followed suit, I’m damned if I can let the same thing happen here.

[Assistant] Oh, and what are you going to do about it, sir?


[User] You fancy an evening at a concert party, Blackadder?

[Assistant] Well frankly sir, I’d rather spend an evening on top of a stepladder in No Man’s Land smoking cigarettes through an luminous balaclava .


[User] Well, I didn’t think it would be your cup of tea, but I do need someone to help me organise it, you know. Obviously not a tough grizzled old soldier like yourself, but some kind of dandified nancy-boy who will be prepared to spend the rest of the war in the London Palladium.

[Assistant] The show’s going to the London Palladium, sir?


[User] Oh yes of course. No good crushing the Revolution over here only to get back home to Blighty and find that everyone’s wearing over- alls and breaking wind in the palaces of the mighty.

[Assistant] Good point, sir.


[User] So the thing is, Blackadder, finding a man to organise a concert party is going to be damn difficult. So, I’ve come up with a rather a cunning set of questions with which to test the candidate’s suitability for the job.

[Assistant] And what sort of questions would these be, sir?


[User] Well, the first question is, ‘do you like Charlie Chaplin?’

[Assistant] Dismissed, Lieutenant. ‘Do you like Charlie Chaplin?’, yes that is a good question for a candidate, ah, to which my answer would of course be, ‘yes, I love him, love him, sir, particularly the amusing kicks.


[User] That’s what I said because I thought you said….

[Assistant] Goodbye George.


[User] And the second question is, ‘do you like music hall?’

[Assistant] Ah, yes, another good question, sir. Again, my answer would have to be ‘yes, absolutely love it.’ “Oops, Mr. Rothschild, ”


[User] Umm, yes. Well, it’s in my view, Blackadder, that a person who would answer ‘yes’ to both questions would be ideal for the jo- . Wait a minute.

[Assistant] What sir?


[User] Why, without knowing it, Blackadder, you’ve inadvertently shown me that you can do the job.

[Assistant] Have I sir?


[User] Yes sir! You have, sir. And I want you to start work straight away. A couple of shows over the weekend and if all goes well, we’ll start you off in London next Monday.

[Assistant] Oh…damn.


[User] Alright, at ease, Bob, stand easy. Captain Blackadder, this is Bob.

[Assistant] Bob?


[User] Good morning, sir.

[Assistant] Unusual name for a girl?


[User] I think you’ll find Bob just the man for this job, Blackadder. He has a splendid sense of humour.

[Assistant] He sir? He? He?


[User] You see, you’re laughing already! Well then, Bob, I’ll leave you two together, why don’t you get to know each other, play a game of cribbage, have a smoke, something like that. They tell me that Captain Blackadder has rather a good line in rough shag. Um, I’m sure he’d be happy to fill your pipe. Carry on.

[Assistant] So you’re a ‘chap’, are you Bob?


[User] Oh yes, sir.

[Assistant] You wouldn’t say you were a girl at all?


[User] Oh, definitely not, sir. I understand cricket, I fart in bed, everything.

[Assistant] Let me put it another way, Bob, you are a girl. And you’re a girl with as much talent for disguise as a giraffe in dark glasses trying to get into a ‘Polar Bears Only’ golf club.


[User] Oh sir, please don’t give me away, sir. I just wanted to be like my brothers and join up. I want to see how a real war is fought….so badly.

[Assistant] Well, you’ve come to the right place, Bob. A war hasn’t been fought this badly since Olaf the Hairy, Chief of all the Vikings, accidentally ordered 80,000 battle helmets with the horns on the inside.


[User] I want to do my bit for the boys, sir.

[Assistant] Oh really?


[User] I’ll do anything, sir!

[Assistant] Yes, now keep that to yourself, if I was you. Alright Bob, the second half start with Corporal Smith and Johnson as the Three Silly Twerps.


[User] Alright, sir.

[Assistant] The big joke being that there’s only two of them.


[User] I know that, it always cracks me up, sir.

[Assistant] Followed by Baldrick’s impersonation of Charlie Chaplin. Bob, take a telegram.


[User] Yes sir.

[Assistant] Mr. C. Chaplin, Sennett Studios, Hollywood, California. stop. Have discovered only person in the world less funny than you stop. Name Baldrick stop. yours, E. Blackadder stop.’ Oh, and put a PS. ‘Please please please stop.’ Now after that, we have, ladies and gentlemen, the highlight of our show.


[User] I feel fantastic!

[Assistant] Gorgeous Georgina, the traditional soldier’s drag act.


[User] You look absolutely lovely, sir.

[Assistant] Well Baldrick, you are lined , blind, or mad. The Lieutenant looks as all soldiers look on these occasions, about as feminine as W. G. Grace. What are you going to give them, George?


[User] Well, I thought one or two cheeky gags, one followed by ‘She was only the ironmonger’s daughter but she knew a surprising amount about fish as well’.

[Assistant] Inspired. Well, at least you made an effort with the dress, what is your costume, Baldrick?


[User] I’m in it, sir.

[Assistant] I see. So your Charlie Chaplin costume consists of only that hat.


[User] Except that in this box, I’ve a dead slug as a brilliant false moustache.

[Assistant] Yes, it’s only quite brilliant, I fear. How, for instance, are you to attach it to your face?


[User] Well, I was hoping to persuade the slug to cling on, sir.

[Assistant] Baldrick, the slug is dead. If it failed to cling on to life, I see no reason that it should cling on to your upper lip.


[User] See, that’s it, that’s good. Sir, sir, there’s a visitor to see you.

[Assistant] Good Lord, Mr. Chaplin! This is indeed an honour. Why, this calls for some sort of celebration. Baldrick, Baldrick!


[User] It is, it’s me, sir!

[Assistant] I know, I know. I was, in fact being sarcastic.


[User] Oh, I see. Umm.

[Assistant] Everything goes above your head, doesn’t it, George? You should go to Jamaica and become a limbo dancer.


[User] They love him, sir. We’re a hit!

[Assistant] Yes, in one short evening, I’ve become the most successful impresario since the manager of the Roman Coliseum thought of putting the Christians and the lions on the same bill.


[User] Sir, some people seem to think I was best! Do you agree?

[Assistant] Baldrick, in the Amazonian rain forests, there are tribes of Indians yet untouched by civilisation who could develop more convincing Charlie Chaplin impressionists.


[User] No, sir, I really, I was hopeless. I mean, tell me honestly, sir, I was, wasn’t I?

[Assistant] Well…


[User] No, no, no, come on, sir. Out with it, cos I really need to know, I was hopeless.

[Assistant] No….


[User] You’re trying to be nice and that’s very sweet of you, but sir, please, I can take it. I was hopeless.

[Assistant] George, you were bloody awful! But you can’t argue with the box office. Personally, I thought you were the least convincing female impressionist since Tarzan went through Jane’s handbag and ate her lipstick. But I’m clearly in the minority. Look out London, here we come! Ah, Captain Darling.


[User] Ah, Captain Blackadder.

[Assistant] I must say, I had an absolutely splendid evening. Oh, glad you enjoyed the show.


[User] The show? I couldn’t go to the show. Important regimental business.

[Assistant] A lorry load of paper clips arrived?


[User] Ah, welcome to the great director, Maestro.

[Assistant] You enjoyed it, sir?


[User] Well, it was mostly awful, but I enjoyed the slug balance.

[Assistant] Private Baldrick, sir.


[User] That’s right, yes. The slug fell off a couple of times, but it was….you can’t have everything, can’t you? I just suggest a bit more practise and perhaps a sparkly costume for the slug.

[Assistant] I’ll pass that on, sir.


[User] But I do have certain others reasons for believing the show to be nothing but a triumph. Captain Darling has your travel arrangements, ticket to Dover, rooms at the Ritz and so forth.

[Assistant] Oh, thank you sir.


[User] However, there is one small thing you can do for me.

[Assistant] Yes?


[User] Captain Blackadder, I should esteem it a single honour if you would allow me to escort your leading lady to the regimental ball this evening.

[Assistant] My leading lady?


[User] The fair Georgina.

[Assistant] Ah, ha-ha, very amusing.


[User] You think she’ll laugh in my face? I’m too old, too crusty?

[Assistant] Uh, no, no. It’s just as her director, I’m afraid I could not allow it.


[User] I can always find another director who would allow it!

[Assistant] Quite. I’ll see what I can do, but I must insist that she be home by midnight and that there’ll be no hanky-panky, sir, whatsoever.


[User] I shall, of course, respect your wishes, Blackadder. However I don’t think you need to be quite so protective. I’m sure she’s a girl with a great deal of spunk than most women you can find.

[Assistant] Oh, dear me.


[User] Absolutely not, sir. It’s profoundly immoral, and utterly wrong. I will not do it.

[Assistant] We can always find another leading lady.


[User] Well, the dress will need a clean.

[Assistant] Excellent. Now the important thing is, that Melchett should, under no circumstances, realise that you are a man.


[User] Yes, yes, I understand that.

[Assistant] In order to insure this, there are three basic rules. One, you must never, I repeat, never remove your wig.


[User] Right.

[Assistant] Second, never say anything. Tell him at the beginning of the evening that you’re saving your voice for the opening night in London.


[User] Excellent, sir. And what’s the third?

[Assistant] The third is most important, don’t get drunk and let him shag you on the veranda.


[User] I don’t think you should say that to her.

[Assistant] Where’s that George? It’s three o’clock in the morning, he should be careful wandering the trench at night with nothing to protect his honour but a cricket box.


[User] Hello Captain.

[Assistant] About time, where the hell have you been?


[User] Well I don’t know, it’s all been like a dream, my very first ball. The music, the dancing, the champagne, my mind is a mad world. Half whispered conversation with the promise of indiscretion ever hanging in the air.

[Assistant] No, that old stoke Melchett tried for a snog behind the fruit cup.


[User] Certainly not! The general behaved like a perfect gentleman. We tired the moon with our talking about everything and nothing. The war, marriage, proposed changes of the LBW rule.

[Assistant] Melchett isn’t married, is he?


[User] No, no, all his life, he’s been waiting to meet the perfect woman. And tonight, he did.

[Assistant] Some poor unfortunate had Old Walrus-face dribbling in her ear all evening, did she?


[User] Well yes. As a matter of fact, I did have to drape a napkin over my shoulder, yes.

[Assistant] George, are you trying to tell me that you’re the General’s perfect woman?


[User] Well, yes, I rather think I am.

[Assistant] Well thank God the horny old blighter didn’t ask you to marry him. He did?! Well how did you get out of that one?


[User] Well, to be honest, sir, I’m not absolutely certain that I did.

[Assistant] WHAT?!


[User] You don’t understand what it was like, sir. You know, the candles, the music, the huge moustache, I can’t remember it.

[Assistant] You said ‘yes’?


[User] Oh, well he is a general, I didn’t really feel I could refuse. He might have me courtmartialled.

[Assistant] Whereas on the other hand, of course, he’s going to give you the Victoria Cross when he lifts up your frock on the wedding night and finds himself looking at the blast turkey at the shop.


[User] Yes, I, I, I know it’s mess, ah but, you see, he got me squiffy and then when he looked into my eyes and said ‘Chipmunk, I love you.’

[Assistant] CHIPMUNK???


[User] It’s a special name for me, you see, he says my nose looks just like a chipmunk’s.

[Assistant] Oh God! We’re in serious serious trouble here. If the General ever finds out that Gorgeous Georgina is, in fact, a strapping six footer from the rough end of the trench, which will precipitate the fastest execution since someone said, ‘this Guy Fawkes bloke, do we let him off, or wot?’ Hello? Yes sir. Straight away sir. That was your finacee, ‘Chipmunk’. He wants to see me. If I should die, think only this of me, ‘I’ll be back to get ya!’. Sir, I can explain everything.


[User] Can you, Blackadder? Can you?

[Assistant] Well…..no sir, not really.


[User] I thought not, I thought not. Who can explain the mysteries of love? I’m in love with Georgina, Blackadder. I’m going to marry her on Saturday and I want you to be my best man.

[Assistant] I don’t think that would be a very good idea, sir.


[User] And why not?

[Assistant] Because there’s something wrong with your fiancée, sir.


[User] Oh my God, she’s not Welsh, is she?

[Assistant] No sir. Um, it’s a terrible story, but true. Just a few minutes ago Georgina arrived unexpectedly in my trench. She was literally dancing with joy as if something wonderful had happened to her.


[User] Makes sense.

[Assistant] Unfortunately, she was in such a daze, danced straight through the trench and out into No Man’s Land. I tried to stop her, but before I could say, ‘Don’t tread on a mine’, she trod on a mine. When I say ‘a mine’, it was a cluster of mines, and she was blown to smithereens, rocketed up into the air, said something I couldn’t quite catch, totally incomprehensible to me, something like, ‘Tell him, his little chipmunk will love him forever’.


[User] It’s heartbreaking, sir.

[Assistant] I’m sorry sir.


[User] Jolly bad luck, sir. Of course, on top of everything else, without your leading lady, you won’t be able to put on your show. So no show, no London Palladium.

[Assistant] On the contrary, I’m simply intending to rename it, the Georgina Melchett Memorial Show.


[User] You’ll never find a girl like Georgina by tomorrow.

[Assistant] Well, it’s funny you should say that sir, because I think I already have.


[User] So, come on, sir, who is she?

[Assistant] Well, that’s the problem. I haven’t a bloody clue! The only exacting woman around here is carved out of stone called ‘Venus’ and is standing in a fountain in the town square with water coming out of her armpits.


[User] Morning chaps. Edmund and George: Morning Bob.

[Assistant] You can say that again, George. We’re in the stickiest situation since Sticky the Stick Insect got stuck on a sticky bun. We are in trouble.


[User] Not any-more sir. May I present my cunning plan.

[Assistant] Don’t be ridiculous, Baldrick. Can you sing, can you dance? Or are you offering to be sawn in half?


[User] I don’t think those things are important in a modern marriage, sir. I offer simple home cooking.

[Assistant] Our plan is to find a new leading lady for our show. What is your plan?


[User] I will, sir, cos when I get back from honeymoon, I will be a member of the aristocracy and you will have to call me ‘M’lady’.

[Assistant] What happened to your Revolutionary principles, Baldrick? I thought you hated the aristocracy.


[User] I’m working to bring down the system from within, sir. I’m a sort of a Frozen Horse.

[Assistant] Trojan House, Baldrick.


[User] Anyway, I can’t see what’s so stupid about marry into wealth for money and not having to sleep in a puddle.

[Assistant] Baldrick, NO! It’s the worst plan since Abraham Lincoln said, ‘Oh I’m sick of kicking around the house tonight. Let’s take in a show.’ And for a start, General Melchett is in mourning for the woman of his dreams. He’s unlikely to be in the mood to marry a two legged badger wrapped in a curtain.. Anyway we are looking for a great entertainer and you’re the worst entertainer since St. Paul the Evangelist toured Palestine with his trampoline act. Nah, we have to find somebody else.


[User] What about Corporal Cartwright, sir?

[Assistant] Corporal Cartwright looks like an orang-outang. I’ve heard of the Bearded Lady, but the All Over Body Hair Lady simply just isn’t on.


[User] Willis?

[Assistant] Too short.


[User] Petheridge?

[Assistant] Too old.


[User] Taplowe?

[Assistant] Too dead. Ah, this is hopeless. There just isn’t anyone!


[User] ‘Goodbyeee, goodbyeee, wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eyeee’.

[Assistant] What am I doing? Bob!


[User] No George, always leave them hungry.

[Assistant] Congratulations, Bob. I must admit, I thought you were bloody marvellous.


[User] Thank you sir. Permission to slip into something more uncomfortable, sir.

[Assistant] Permission granted.


[User] Oh sir, it’s going to be wonderful. Not just for me, but for my little partner, Graham. Doing our tour halfway ’round the world.

[Assistant] Yes, from Shaftsbury Avenue to the Co^te du Jour, they’ll be saying, ‘I like the little black one, but who’s that burke sitting on it?’


[User] I’m not with you, sir.

[Assistant] No, of course not. But don’t worry, we’ll have years in luxury hotels for me to explain. Now get packing, get packing. The train leaves at six and we’re going to be on it.


[User] Blackadder.

[Assistant] Ah Darling, everything alright?


[User] Oh yes.

[Assistant] Got the tickets?


[User] Blackadder!?

[Assistant] Oh hi, General. Enjoy the show?


[User] Don’t be ridiculous, the worst evening I’ve ever spent in my life!

[Assistant] I’m sorry?


[User] Will you stand still when I’m talking to you! If by a man’s works showing that you were a steaming pile of horse manure.

[Assistant] But surely, sir, the show was a triumph.


[User] TRIMUPH? The Three Twerps were one Twerp short, again; the Slug Balancer seems now to be doing some feeble impression of Buster Keaton; and worst of all, the crowning turd in the water-pipe, that revolting drag act in the end.

[Assistant] Drag?


[User] So the show’s cancelled, permanently.

[Assistant] But what about the men’s morale, sir, with the Russians out of the war and everything?


[User] Oh for goodness sake, Blackadder, have you been living in a cave? The Americans joined the war yesterday.

[Assistant] So how is that going to improve the men’s morale, sir?


[User] We received a telegram this morning from Mr. Chaplin himself, at Sennett Studios: ‘Twice nightly screening of my films in trenches, excellent idea stop. But must insist E. Blackadder be projectionist. Oh PS, don’t let him ever stop.’

[Assistant] Oh great.


[User] No hard feelings, Blackadder.

[Assistant] Not at all Darling. Uh, care for a Licorice Alsort?


[User] Mmm…

[Assistant] MUG!!!


[User] Oh, I say, well done, sir. Your turn.

[Assistant] I spy with my bored little eye something beginning with `T’.


[User] Breakfast!

[Assistant] What?


[User] My breakfast always begins with tea, and I have a little sausage, and a egg with some little soldiers.

[Assistant] Baldrick, when I said it begins with `T’, I was talking about a letter.


[User] Nah, it never begins with a letter; the postman don’t come ’til 10.30.

[Assistant] I can’t go on with this. George, take over.


[User] Army!

[Assistant] For God’s sake, Baldrick! `Army’ starts with an `A’. He’s looking for something that starts with an `R’. RRRrrrrr!


[User] Motorbike!

[Assistant] What?


[User] A motorbike starts with a `RRRRRrrrrrrrrrm! RRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr–‘

[Assistant] All right, right, right, right. My turn again. What begins with `Come here’ and ends with `Ow’?


[User] I don’t know.

[Assistant] Come here.


[User] Ow!

[Assistant] Well done.


[User] No , I don’t think you’ve quite got the hang of this game, to be honest, sir. I tell you what, let’s try another one. Erm, I hear with my little ear, er, something beginning with `B’.

[Assistant] What?


[User] Bomb.

[Assistant] I can’t hear a bomb.


[User] Listen very carefully.

[Assistant] Ah yes.


[User] Absolutely not, no. It’ll be so jolly to see Baldrick and the cap again. They’ll have been worried sick about me, you know.

[Assistant] All right, where is the malingering git?


[User] Nice to see the lieutenant looking so well, sir.

[Assistant] Of course he’s looking well — there’s nothing wrong with him.


[User] You did! Well, Captain, you are indeed fortunate to have a loyal friend like darling Georgy.

[Assistant] Mm, I think you might be under a slight misapprehension here, Nurse. I lost closer friends than `Darling Georgy’ the last time I was deloused. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got better things to do than exchange pleasantries with a wet blanket. Would you get out? We’ve got some important military business…


[User] Well, ten minutes only, then.

[Assistant] Right, porkface, where’s the grub?


[User] Pardon?

[Assistant] Come on, the moment that collection of inbred mutants you call your relatives heard you were sick, they’ll have sent you a hamper the size of Westminster Abbey.


[User] My family is not inbred!

[Assistant] Come on, somewhere outside there’s an uncle who’s seven feet tall with no chin and an Adam’s apple that makes him look as though he’s constantly trying to swallow a ballcock.


[User] I have not got any uncles like that! Anyway, he lives in .

[Assistant] Well, exactly. Now, where’s the tuck?


[User] Well, there were one or two things, yes. There was, er, a potted turkey, a jelly, three tinned sheep, and, er, twelve hundred chocolates. But, in my weakened state…

[Assistant] Yes?


[User] …I, er, I ate them.

[Assistant] What?


[User] Well, Nurse Mary nibbled a trotter or two, but… Oh, Cap, she’s such a wonderful girl. She helps me with all my letters, she can do all the German spelling and she’s terribly good at punctuation.

[Assistant] I don’t care if she can sing `I May Be a Tiny Chimney Sweep, But I’ve Got an Enormous Brush’. Come on, Baldrick — the only thing we’re going to get for free around here is dysentery.


[User] But, sir, I haven’t given Lieutenant George my bunch of flowers yet.

[Assistant] Alright, hurry up, hurry up.


[User] Here you are, sir, I got you these. Unfortunately, they’ve had their heads shot off.

[Assistant] Whereas say it with flowers, Baldrick says it with stalks.


[User] Well, Captain, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave us now.

[Assistant] Oh really?


[User] Yes. You must report to General Melchett immediately.

[Assistant] Oh great. Yet another tempting opportunity for suicide beckons.


[User] Oh no, you must take care, my brave hero.

[Assistant] `Brave hero’, Nurse? I was more wounded the last time I clipped my toenails.


[User] Take no notice of him.

[Assistant] Yes, pay no attention to the nasty man.


[User] Look, If I can’t give my brave boys a kind word and a big smile, what can I give them?

[Assistant] Well, one or two ideas do suggest themselves, but you’d probably think they were unhygenic. Come on, Baldrick. Hello, what’s your name?


[User] My name is Mr Smith.

[Assistant] I’m sorry that you’ve been landed opposite to such a total git, Smith. It’s bad enough to be wounded without having to share a ward with Bananabrain.


[User] Danke shoen, danke shoen; ich bin comfortable.

[Assistant] Yes…


[User] Enter.

[Assistant] Hello?


[User] Beah!

[Assistant] Can anyone tell me what’s going on?


[User] Security, Blackadder.

[Assistant] Security?


[User] `Security’ isn’t a dirty word, Blackadder. `Crevice’ is a dirty word, but `security’ isn’t.

[Assistant] So, in the name of security, sir, everyone who enters the room has to have his bottom fondled by this drooling pervert.


[User] Only doing my job, Blackadder.

[Assistant] Oh, well, how lucky you are, then, that your job is also your hobby.


[User] Now there’s another dirty word: `job’!

[Assistant] Sir, is there something the matter?


[User] You’re damn right there is something the matter. Something sinister and something grotesque. And what’s worse is that it’s going on right here under my very nose.

[Assistant] Sir, your moustache is lovely…


[User] You look surprised, Blackadder.

[Assistant] I certainly am, sir. I didn’t realise we had any battle plans.


[User] Well, of course we have! How else do you think the battles are directed?

[Assistant] Our battles are directed, sir?


[User] Well, of course they are, Blackadder — directed according to the Grand Plan.

[Assistant] Would that be the plan to continue with total slaughter until every- one’s dead except Field Marshal Haig, Lady Haig and their tortoise, Alan?


[User] …has discovered that the leak is coming from the Field Hospital.

[Assistant] You think there’s a German spy in the Field Hospital? I think you might be right, there.


[User] Your job, Blackadder, is to root this spy out. How long do you think you’ll need?

[Assistant] Ooh, er…


[User] You’ll have to be away from the trenches for some time.

[Assistant] Six months?


[User] Yes, three weeks to smoke the bugger out! Use any method you see fit. Personally, I’d recommend you get hold of a cocker spaniel, tie your suspect down on a chair, with a potty on his head, then pop his todger between two flowery and shout, “Dinnertime, Fido!” However, if you are successful, I shall need you back here permanently, to head up my new security network, Operation Winkle.

[Assistant] Winkle?


[User] Well, we have to have some secrets, don’t we, Darling…

[Assistant] Right, well, I’ll be back in three weeks.


[User] Excellent. And if you come back with the information, Captain Darling will pump you thoroughly in the debriefing room.

[Assistant] Not while I have my strength, he won’t.


[User] Yes. Yes, that looks quite convincing.

[Assistant] Right, pack me a toothbrush, Baldrick. We’re going on holiday.


[User] Hurray! Where to?

[Assistant] Hospital.


[User] Oh, no, I hate hostipals. My grandfather went into one, and when he come out, he was dead.

[Assistant] He was also dead when he went in, Baldrick. He’d been run over by a traction engine.


[User] I don’t like them doctors. If they start poking around inside me–

[Assistant] Baldrick, why would anyone wish to poke around inside you?


[User] They might find me interesting.

[Assistant] Baldrick, I find the Great Northern and Metropolitan Sewage System interesting, but that doesn’t mean that I want to put on some rubber gloves and pull things out if it with a pair of tweezers.


[User] Still, I tell you what, sir, you might have a chance to get to know that pretty nurse.

[Assistant] No, thank you, Baldrick. She’s as wet as a fish’s wet bits. I’d rather get to know you.


[User] I’m not available, sir. I’m waiting for Miss Right to come along and gather me up in her arms.

[Assistant] Yes, I wouldn’t be too hopeful; we’d have to get her arms out of a straightjacket first. Now get packing!


[User] Yes, well, hmm…

[Assistant] ‘afternoon, George.


[User] Ah, Captain. I hope you’re going to conduct yourself with a little more decorum this time.

[Assistant] No, I am going to conduct myself with no decorum. Shove off!


[User] So, Cap, what’s going on?

[Assistant] Well, there’s a German spy in the hospital and it’s my job to find him.


[User] A Ger–? Well, snakes alive! Exciting stuff, eh? Wait a minute; I think I might have a plan already.

[Assistant] What is it?


[User] Well, have a look through the list of patients and see if there’s anyone here whose name begins with `von’. Well, it’s almost bound to be your bloke!

[Assistant] I think we may find that he’s using a false name, actually, George.


[User] I, too, have a cunning plan to catch the spy, sir.

[Assistant] Do you, Baldrick, do you…


[User] You go round the hostipal and ask everyone, “Are you a German spy?”

[Assistant] Yes, I must say, Baldrick, I appreciate your involvement on the creative side.


[User] If it was me, I’d own up.

[Assistant] Of course you would. But, sadly, the enemy have not added to the German Army Entrance Form the requirement “Must have intellectual capacity of a boiled potato.” Now, Baldrick, see that man over there?


[User] Yeah.

[Assistant] I want you to stick to him like a limpet, and make sure he doesn’t leave the hospital.


[User] Yes, sir.

[Assistant] Hello, Darling. What are you doing here?


[User] Bullet in the foot.

[Assistant] Well, I can understand people at the front trying to shoot themselves in the foot, but when you’re 35 miles behind the line…


[User] I did not shoot myself. The General did it.

[Assistant] Well! Finally got fed up with you, did he?


[User] No, it was a mistake.

[Assistant] Oh, he was aiming for your head…


[User] He wasn’t aiming for anything.

[Assistant] Oh, so he was going for between your legs, then.


[User] Very funny, Blackadder. You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face if you don’t find this spy.

[Assistant] Don’t you worry, Darling. I intend to start interviewing suspects immediately.


[User] This is completely ridiculous, Blackadder! You can’t suspect me. I’ve only just arrived.

[Assistant] The first rule of counterespionage, Darling, is to suspect everyone. Believe me, I shall be asking myself pretty searching questions later on. Now, tell me: What is the colour of the Queen of England’s favourite hat?


[User] How the hell should I know?

[Assistant] I see. Well, let me ask you another question: What is the name of the German Head of State?


[User] Well, Kaiser Wilhelm, obviously.

[Assistant] So you’re on first-name terms with the Kaiser, are you?


[User] Well, what did you expect me to say?

[Assistant] Darling, Darling, shh… Cigarette?


[User] Thank you.

[Assistant] All right, you stinking piece of crap!


[User] I beg your pardon?

[Assistant] Shut your cakehole, sonny! I know you! Tell me, von Darling: What was it finally won you over, eh? Was it the pumpernickel, or was it the thought of hanging around with big men in leather shorts?


[User] I’ll have you courtmartialed for this, Blackadder!

[Assistant] What, for obeying the general’s orders? That may be what you do in Munich — or should I say Muechen? — but not here, Wernher! You’re a filthy Hun spy, aren’t you! Baldrick, the cocker spaniel, please!


[User] Agh! No! No, no, wait! No, look, I’m engaged! I was born in Croydon; I was educated in primary school; I’ve got a girlfriend called Doris; I know the words to all three verses of God Save the King!

[Assistant] Four verses…


[User] Four verses! Four verses! I meant four verses! Look, I’m as British as Queen Victoria.

[Assistant] So your father’s German, you’re half German, and you married a German?


[User] No! No! Look, for God’s sake, I’m not a German spy!!!

[Assistant] Good. Thanks very much. Send in the next man, would you?


[User] You’ll regret this, Blackadder. You’d better find the real spy or I’ll make it very hard for you.

[Assistant] Please, Darling — there are ladies present.


[User] Well, well, Captain Blackadder, this is an unexpected pleasure.

[Assistant] What?


[User] Nice to have you back with us. A spycatcher, eh? Huh! That silly kid George was right — you are a bally hero.

[Assistant] Wait a minute. I thought you liked George.


[User] That’s just my bedside manner. What I call my `fluffy bunny act’.

[Assistant] So you’re not a drip after all.


[User] Oh, no. So, Mr Spycatcher, how’s it going?

[Assistant] Well, not much luck so far. I think he might be as difficult to find as a piece of hay in a massive stack full of needles.


[User] So you’re going to be around for quite a while, then.

[Assistant] Looks like it.


[User] Good, because, er, it can get pretty lonely round here, you know. God, it’s nice to have someone healthy to talk to. Cigarette?

[Assistant] No, thank you. I only smoke cigarettes after making love. So, back in England, I’m a twenty-a-day man.