Achtung! Britisher Ship!
Prepare to fire!
Fire torpedo eins!
Thank you. Just one more, thank you.
Thank you. One more, please.
Thank you.
Quick, driver. Straight on.
Wait a minute. One more, sir.
Thank you.
Thank you, one more please.
Thank you.
...can I just have one more, please...
I'm terribly sorry my dear, I've had
a simply dreadful day at the office.
A dreadful day.
Pity, they all came out a bit blurred.
Still, it's his fault
for moving I suppose.
The Gofongo, if you please,
is a fish with singing knees,
and a tail that plays
the Spanish clarionet.
He has toes that whistle tunes,
and explode like toy balloons.
Hence his many,
many visits to the vet.
The Gofongo, when he likes,
swallows jam and rusty bikes,
orange pips, and treacle
pudding, boiled in glue.
He loves chips with rusty nails,
and can swallow iron rails,
that is why they cannot
keep one in a zoo.
But Gofongo as a pet
would cause panic and regret.
People tried it,
and were nearly driven barmy.
For once inside a house,
he screams "I'm a jewish mouse",
Then he runs away,
joins the arab army.
Hi friends.
Tonight I want to appeal to you
on behalf of the natural
preservation society,
a group dedicated
to the protection
of each of the... species that in-...
...habit this planet.
And here, Bengal tiger,
nature's finest creatures.
Javanese rhino,
in danger of extinction.
And tonight I wanted to talk to you
about a species that might disappear
before even the tiger and the rhino,
before we even realise
there is a problem.
The British Aristocrat.
We took our camera team
to a nobility sanctuary,
Spongling Manor,
home of Lord Plumdink.
A happpy haven for aristocrats,
all relations of lord Plumdink.
But sadly he himself is unmarried
and without male issue.
This is part of our mission.
We're in luck.
The dual coronet reveals,
that this is the head of the
family himself: Lord Plumdink.
The sight of our camera car
has frightened him away.
It was to be several hours
before we were finally rewarded.
Mouldering, butler to
nobility for many years,
and now our guide, spotted
a pride of peers at play.
And here we see him attempting
to lure the aristocrats.
Our hearts were in our mouths
as they emerged from hiding.
They'd obviously caught
wind of the bait.
Their capes flooded with excitement
at the scent of cucumber sandwich.
We're in luck: Lord Plumdink,
Lady Ann, his sister,
and her son, Peregrine, have taken
the bait. They have come for tea.
With the aid of our hidden
camera we were able
to take some unique shots
of our aristocrats eating.
Our camera crew moved a little nearer.
It was at this moment that
some strange, primeval instinct
told Lord Plumdink
of our presence.
That his territory
was being threatened.
We had learned
that it was essential
to win the confidence of Lord
Plumdink and his family.
American aristologists have found
that the English aristocrat
is invariably attracted
by the dollar bill.
This proved a sure way to bring our
noble prey right up to the camera car.
Having gained his Lordships confidence,
we are ready for our prime objective:
Meat.
Lord Plumdink must have an heir.
There is no suitable mate in England,
so we flew over a Russian countess.
The authorities in Europe who
kindly came to our assistance
assured us that her credentials
were fully authenticated.
To our surprise, and disappointment,
lord Plumdink at first showed
little interest in the great lady.
But the resourceful
Mouldering tempted him
with genuine 18 carat
Romanov jewelery.
The ice was broken.
Mouldering assures us
that all is going well.
The aristocratic mating
ritual is well underway.
We returned nine months later.
Success! A new
aristocret is born!
Lord Plumdink proudly announces
the birth of his heir
to his faithful workers.
The duke is dead, long live the duke.
Now to keep this race alive.
the natural preservation of
aristocrats fund needs your money.
Without this money lord Plumdink, and
many like him, will simply disappear.
The choice is yours.
Goodnight.
Once upon a time there was
an undertaker named Melmoth.
Then there was the competition, an
undertaker called the original Melmoth.
It was a very grave situation.
To make matters worse, no-one had died
in their town for a very long time.
So they tried to create their own trade.
At last someone had died.
Things were looking up,
at least for one of them.
Finally good sense prevailed,
two little unsuccesful firms
became one big unsuccesful firm.
And they lived happily ever after.
On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
and the monkeys all say BOO!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tree tops jibber jabber joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang
And you just can't
catch 'em when they do!
So its Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go ping
Nong Ning Nang
The mice go Clang
What a noisy place to belong
is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!
Ding Dang Dong, Ding Dang Dong,
Ding Dang Ding Dang Dong. Tsssh.
Well, that's about it for this week.
See you again next week.
I'd like to thank everybody
on the show, but above all,
I'd like to thank you, for
inviting me into your living room.
I never invited him in, did you?
I thought he was with you.
I don't know anybody
who dresses like that.