Cut to a small, tatty, little boarding house. 




Mr and Mrs Johnson, a typical holidaying bourgeois couple walk up to the front door and ring the bell. Inside the boarding house, the landlady goes up to the front door and opens it. 


Landlady: (T.J.) Hello, Mr and Mrs Johnson? 


Mr Johnson: (E.I.) That's right. Yes. 


Landlady: Well come on in, excuse me not shaking hands, I've just been putting a bit of lard on the cat's boil. 


Johnson: Very nice. 


Landlady: Well you must be tired, it's a long way from Coventry, isn't it? 


Johnson: Well, we usually reckon on five and a half hours and it took us six hours and fifty-three minutes, with the twenty-five minute stop at Frampton Cottrell to stretch our legs, only we had to wait half an hour to get onto the M5 at Droitwich.  


Landlady: Really? 


Johnson: Then there was a three mile queue just before Bridgewater on the A38. We usually come round on the B3339 just before Bridgewater, you see... 


Landlady: Really? 


Johnson: Yes, but this time we decided to risk it because they're always saying they're going to widen it there. 


Landlady: Are they? 


Johnson: Yes well just by the intersection, there where the A372 joins up, there's plenty of room to widen it there, there's only grass verges. They could get another six feet...knock down that hospital... Then we took the coast road through Williton and got all the Taunton traffic on the A358 from Crowcombe and Stogumber...  


Landlady: Well you must be dying for a cup of tea. 


Johnson: Well, wouldn't say no, not if it's warm and wet. 


Landlady: Well come on in the lounge, I'm just going to serve afternoon tea. 


Johnson: (following her into the lounge) Very nice.  


In the lounge are sitting another bourgeois couple Mr and Mrs Phillips. 


Landlady: Come on in, Mr and Mrs Johnson, oh this is Mr and Mrs Phillips. 


Mr Phillips: (T.G.) Good afternoon. 


Johnson: Thank you. 


Landlady: It's their third time here with us, we can't keep you away can we? Ha, ha, and over here is Mr Hilter. 


Landlady leads Mr and Mrs Johnson over to a table at which Adolf Hitler is sitting poring over a map. He is in full Nazi uniform. Himmler and Von Ribbentrop are also sitting at the table with him, Himmler in Nazi uniform and von Ribbentrop in evening dress, with an Iron Cross. 


Hitler: (J.C.) Ach. Good time...good afternoon. 


Landlady: Ooh planning a little excursion are we Mr Hilter? 


Hitler: Ja, ja. We haff a little... (to others) Was ist rückweise bewegen? 


Von Ribbentrop: (G.C.) Hike. 


Himmler: (M.P.) Hiking. 


Hitler: Ah yes, ve make a little hike for, for Bideford. 


Johnson: (leaning over map) Oh well, you'll want the A39, no, you've got the wrong map there, this is Stalingrad, you want the Ilfracombe and Barnstaple section. 


Hitler: Ah! Hein...Reginald you have the wrong map here you silly old leg-before-wicket English person. 


Himmler: I'm sorry mein Fuhrer. I did not...(Hitler slaps him) Mein Dickie old chum.  


Landlady: Lucky Mr Johnson pointed that out, eh? You wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you...(they don't see the joke) I said, you wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you, ha, ha, ha? 


Hitler: (through clenched teeth) Not much fun in Stalingrad, no. 


Landlady: Oh I'm sorry I didn't introduce you. This is Ron...Ron Vibbentrop. 


Johnson: Oh, not Von Ribbentrop, eh? 


Von Ribbentrop: (leaping two feet in the air, then realizing) Nein! Nein! Nein! Oh!! Ha, ha, ha.  


Landlady: And this is the quiet one, Mr Bimmler - Heimlich Bimmler. 


Himmler: How do you do there squire, also I am not Minehead lad but I in Peterborough, Lincolnshire was given birth to, but stay in Peterborough, Lincolnshire house all during war, owing to nasty running sores, and was unable to go in the streets play football or go to Nuremberg. I am retired vindow cleaner and pacifist, without doing war crimes (hurriedly corrects himself) tch tch tch, and am glad England win World Cup - Bobby Charlton, Martin Peters - and eating lots of chips and fish and hole in the toads, and Dundee cakes on Piccadilly line. Don't you know old chap I was head of Gestapo for ten years. Five years! No, no, nein, I was not head of Gestapo at all...I make joke. 


Landlady: Oooh, Mr Bimmler, you do have us on. (A telephone rings) Oh excuse me I must go and answer that. (leaves the room) 


Johnson: How long are you down here for, Mr Hilter. Just the fortnight? 


Hitler: (shouting) Why do you ask that? Are you a spy or something? (drawing revolver) Get over there against the wall Britischer pig, you're going to die! 


Von Ribbentrop and Himmler grab Hitler and calm him. 


Himmler: Take it easy Dickie old chum. 


Von Ribbentrop: I'm sorry Mr. Johnson, he's a bit on edge. He hasn't slept since 1945. 


Hitler: Shut your cake hole you Nazi. 


Von Ribbentrop: Cool it Führer cat! 


Himmler: Ha, ha, ha. (laughing it off) The fun we have. 


Johnson: Haven't I seen him on the television? 


Von Ribbentrop and Himmler: Nicht. Nein. Nein, oh no. 


Johnson: Television Doctor?  


Von Ribbentrop: No!!! No! 


The landlady enters.  


Landlady: Telephone, Mr Hilter, it's that nice Mr McGoering from the Bell and Compasses. He says he's found a place where you can hire bombers by the hour. 


Hitler: If he opens his big mouth's lampshade time! 


Von Ribbentrop: (controlling Hitler and getting him towards the door) Shut up! (Hitler exits) Hire bombers by the hour, ha ha, what a laugh he is, that Scottish person. Good old Norman. (he exits) 


Landlady: He's on the phone the whole time nowadays. 


Johnson: In business is he? 


Himmler: Soon baby! 


Landlady: Of course it's his big day Thursday. Oh, they've been planning it for months. 


Johnson: What's happens then? 


Landlady: Well it's the North Minehead bye-election. Mr Hilter's standing as the National Bocialist candidate. He's got wonderful plans for Minehead. 


Johnson: Like what? 


Landlady: Well, for a start he wants to annex Poland. 


Johnson: Oh, North Minehead's Conservative, isn't it? 


Landlady: Well, they get a lot of people at their rallies. 


Johnson: Rallies? 


Landlady: Well, their Bocalist meetings, down at the Axis Café in Rosedale Road. 


Cut to a grotty Italian café. Sign above it read 'Axis Café, Italian Food a Specialty'. A figure clearly belonging to Mussolini is nailing up a sign or poster which reads: 'Vote for Hitler'. He looks around and goes into the café furtively. At this moment past the café come Hitler, Von Ribbentrop and Himmler on bikes. Hitler at the front shouting German through a megaphone. Von Ribbentrop at the back with a large banner 'Hilter for a better Meinhead'. Himmler in the middle with an old gramophone playing 'Deutschland Über Alles'.
Cut to Hitler ranting in German on a balcony with Himmler at his side. Beneath them is a Nazi flag.


Hitler: I am not a racialist, but, und this is a big but, we in the National Bocialist Party believe das Überleben muss gestammen sein mit der schneaky Armstrong-Jones. Historische Taunton ist Volkermeinig von Meinhead. 


Himmler: (stepping forward) Mr Hitler, Hilter, he says that historically Taunton is a part of Minehead already. 


Shot of a yokel looking disbelievingly at balcony. Von Ribbentrop appears behind. 


Von Ribbentrop: He's right, do you know that? 


Meanwhile back on the balcony. 


Hitler: (very exited) Und Bridgwater ist die letzte Fühlung das wir haben in Somerset! 


Over this we hear loud applause and 'Sieg Heils'. The yokel, who is not applauding, turns round rather surprised to see whence cometh the applause. He sees Von Ribbentrop operating a gramophone.

Cut to vox pops. 


Interviewer: (J.C.) (voice over) What do you think of Mr Hilter's politics. 


Yokel: (G.C.) I don't like the sound of these 'ere boncentration bamps. 


Pepperpot: (E.I.) Well, I gave him my baby to kiss and he bit it on the head. 


Stockbroker: (J.C.) Well, I think he'd do a lot of good to the Stock Exchange. 




Himmler: (thinly disguised as yokel) Oh yes Britischer pals he is wunderbar...ful. So. 


Pepperpot 2: (T.J.) I think he's right about the coons, but then I'm a bit mental. 


Gumby: (T.J.) I think he's got beautiful legs! 


Conservative politician: (G.C.) Well speaking as Conservative candidate I just drone on and on and on...never letting anyone else get a word in edgeways, until I start foaming at the mouth and fall over backwards. (he foams at the mouth and falls over backwards) 


Cut to 'Spectrum' studio: same presenter as before, sitting at desk. 


Presenter: (M.P.) Foam at the mouth and fall over backwards. Is he foaming at the mouth to fall over backwards or falling over backwards to foam at the mouth. Tonight 'Spectrum' examines the whole question of frothing and falling, coughing and calling, screaming and bawling, walling and stalling, galling and mauling, palling and hauling, trawling and squalling and zalling. Zalling? Is there a word zalling? If there is what does it mean...if there isn't what does it mean? Perhaps both. Maybe neither. What do I mean by the word mean? What do I mean by the word word, what do I mean by what do I mean, what do I mean by do, and what do I do by mean? What do I do by do by do and what do I do by wasting your time like this? Goodnight. 




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