Mona

From the album ‘Ad Nauseam‘ (1978).

Clive:

(as gameshow host:) All right, love, you can, um, come out of the cubicle now, erm,…

Derek:

(as Mona:) Hm-m-m-mm.

Clive:

That’s right, Mona.

Derek:

Oh-ho-o-oh.

Clive:

Now, Mona, you’re doing very well. Your husband got three out of three, that’s one hundred percent, that’s fifteen hundred pounds on the board.

Derek:

Ohh-hohh. Shi-, f-fu-

Clive:

Now, let’s see if you can get the three thousand pound jackpot.

Derek:

Mmff-ss.

Clive:

Y-, you’re not nervous, are you?

Derek:

No, it’s just my breath, that is m-, h-, I-, I’m getting a bit…

Clive:

WELL, IT’S ONLY A GAME! Don’t-, don’t-, don’t worry, Mona.

Derek:

…breathless.

Clive:

Now, Mona, Mona, Mona, if your mother-in-law came to stay unexpectedly, would your husband: one – pelt her with Rice Crispies;…

Derek:

Ohh.

Clive:

…two – beat her to death with a Goblin’s teasmaid;…

Derek:

Ohh-hh!

Clive:

…or, three – drop a basket full of vipers on her head?

Derek:

Ohh.

Clive:

Now, that’s the Rice Crispies,…

Derek:

The Rice Crispies, y-hhhh…

Clive:

…the-, the teasmaid or possibly the vipers.

Derek:

…possibly the vipers. Oh, well, I’d-, I’d-, I’d-,…

Clive:

Which one? Which one would he do?

Derek:

Hmm, I’d have-, I’d have to say, erm, he’d drop vipers.

Clive:

HE’D DROP THE VIPERS!! YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT, MONA!!

Derek:

Ohh-hh-hh!!!

(sound of canned audience applause)

Clive:

Yes, he’d let the vipers loose!

Derek:

Oh!

Clive:

Mona, that’s only two to go for that magic three thousand pounds.

Derek:

Ohh.

Clive:

Now, Mona, ah, picture to yourself, you’re on the Costa Brava – that’s in Spain – it’s very hot, the sun’s beating down, you know, you’re a bit hot and you’ve forgotton your sun cream.

Derek:

Yesss.

Clive:

Now, would Len…

Derek:

Oh, but I’d never forget my sun cream.

Clive:

No, but just for the game assume you have. Now, would Len ask you to: stand with your legs apart…

Derek:

Ohhh-hh-hh-oh!!!

Clive:

…so he could lie in the shadow of your skirt;…

Derek:

Mmmmmm.

Clive:

…or, two – tie half a coconut over his nose;…

Derek:

Tch! F-

Clive:

…or, three – take off his trousers…

Derek:

Oh!

Clive:

…and put them over his head?

Derek:

Ohh.

Clive:

Now, which one is it? The coconut over the nose,…

Derek:

Coconut over the nose…

Clive:

…lie under your skirt,…

Derek:

Under skirt…

Clive:

…or take his trousers off…

Derek:

Trousers…

Clive:

…and put them over his head?

Derek:

I’d have to say… I’d have to say the coconut.

Clive:

Definitely the coconut!…

Derek:

Ohh!

Clive:

…You’re quite right,…

(sound of canned audience applause)

…that’s exactly what Len said. He’d put the coconut over his nose…

Derek:

Oh!

Clive:

…and why shouldn’t he? It’s a free country. Now, Mona, huh, I-, I desperately hope we’re going to get the jackpot this week, the three thousand…

Derek:

Oh.

Clive:

…beautiful, lovely pounds. Are you nervous, Mona?

Derek:

Well, I-, just a bit breathless.

Clive:

Just a little, just a little! Don’t worry, love, it’s only a game. Now, Mona, for three thousand pounds, if you were to get the answer to this one wrong…

Derek:

Ohhh.

Clive:

…would your husband, Len: smash you in the teeth with a croquet mallet;…

Derek:

Ohh!

Clive:

…shit himself;…

Derek:

Ohh.

Clive:

…or, shoot himself?

Derek:

(sucks in)

Clive:

That’s smash you with the croquet mallet,…

Derek:

Smash the mallet…

Clive:

…shit himself,…

Derek:

Shit himself or…

Clive:

…or shoot himself?

Derek:

…shoot himself. Uhhhh! Ohh! Errmmm…

Clive:

Come on, love.

Derek:

Ohh, I d-, oh, I’ve got to make a choice.

Clive:

I’m going to have to ask you to make a choice.

Derek:

I’d say, um, I’d say… he’d shit himself?

(immediate gun report)

Clive:

No! I’m sorry, love! He said he’d shoot himself…

Derek:

Urrrr, ff-…

Clive:

…but, never mind,…

Derek:

But, loo-

Clive:

…it’s only a game,…

Derek:

No-

Clive:

…and you’ve got some lovely prizes…

Derek:

Excuse me! He’s shit himself!

Clive:

Yes, but…

Derek:

Look!

Clive:

…he-, he-, he shat himself after he shot himself.

Derek:

No, I-, no, no, he’d always shit himself before…

Clive:

I definitely s-, I definitely saw…

Derek:

…he’d shoot himself.

Clive:

…he shot himself…

Derek:

No, he definitely-, no.

Clive:

…before he shat himself. He shat himself immediately after…

Derek:

No, please, I know my husband.

Clive:

…he shot himself.

Derek:

I know my husband.

Clive:

I’m sorry, that’s all the time for this week and, as I say,…

Derek:

Look-

Clive:

…all of you out there…

Derek:

Wh-

Clive:

…have a good time, be nice to each other,…

Derek:

What is-

Clive:

…and see you again next Sunday. SHUT UP MONA!

(sound of canned audience applause and piano)

Derek:

What-, what is that if that’s not his shit! I mean, I know his-, look, it’s fresh shit!

Clive:

He shot himself before he shat himself. Mona, love, it’s only a game.