PSYCHIATRIST MILKMAN/ COMPLAINTS
Animation leads to a living room. Doorbell rings. Lady opens the door, a milkman stands there.
Milkman: (E.I.) Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake baker's man. Good morning, madam, I'm a psychiatrist.
Lady: (G.C.) You look like a milkman to me.
Milkman: Good. (ticks form on his clipboard) I am in fact dressed as a milkman... you spotted that - well done.
Lady: Go away.
Milkman: Now then, madam. I'm going to show you three numbers, and I want you to tell me if you see any similarity between them. (holds up a card saying '3' three times)
Lady: They're all number three.
Milkman: No. Try again.
Lady: They're all number three?
Milkman: No. They're all number three. (he ticks his board again) Right. Now. I'm going to say a word, and I want you to say the first thing that comes into your head. How many pints do you want?
Lady: (narrowing her eyes, suspecting a trap) Er, three?
Lady: Er... no.
Milkman: (does some adding up and whistling) Right. Well, you're quite clearly suffering from a repressive libido complex, probably the product of an unhappy childhood, coupled with acute insecurity in adolescence, which has resulted in an attenuation of the libido complex.
Lady: You are a bloody milkman.
Milkman: Don't you shout at me, madam, don't come that tone. Now then, I must ask you to accompany me down to the dairy and do some aptitude tests.
Lady: I've got better things to do than come down to the dairy!
Milkman: Mrs. Ratbag, if you don't mind me saying so, you are badly in need of an expensive course of psychiatric treatment. Now I'm not going to say a trip to our dairy will cure you, but it will give hundreds of lower-paid workers a good laugh.
Lady: All right... but how am I going to get home?
Milkman: I'll run you there and back on my psychiatrist's float.
Lady: All right.
The milkman and lady walk down her garden path. As they go out of the garden gate there's a cat on the garden wall.
Caption and arrow: 'A CAT'
The cat explodes. The milkman motions her towards the milk float with a large signboard which reads: 'Psychiatrist's Dairy Ltd'. Just as they are getting in, she points to all the files in the back in milk crates.
Lady: What are those?
Milkman: They're case histories. (drives off; the van speaker announces: 'Psychiatrists! Psychiatrists!' The doctor from the Poet McTeagle sketch hails him) Yes, sir?
Doctor: (M.P.) Ah, good morning. I'm afraid our regular psychiatrist hasn't come round this morning ... and I've got an ego block which is in turn making my wife over-assertive and getting us both into a state of depressive neurosis.
Milkman: Oh, I see, sir. Who's your regular, sir?
Doctor: Jersey Cream Psychiatrists.
Milkman: Oh yes, I know them. (puts down crate and gets out note pad) Right, well, er, what's your job, then?
Doctor: I'm a doctor.
Milkman: ... Didn't I see you just now under a Scotsman?
Doctor: Yes, but I am a doctor. Actually, I'm a gynaecologist but that was my lunch hour.
Milkman: (taking a card out of crate and showing it to the doctor) What does this remind you of?.
Doctor: Two pints of cream.
Milkman: Right... well I should definitely say you're suffering from a severe personality disorder, sir, sublimating itself in a lactic obsession which could get worse depending on how much money you've got.
Doctor: Yes, yes, I see. And a pot of yogurt, please.
Cut to a psychiatrist called Dr. Cream in his office.
Dr. Cream: (T.J.) I would like to take this opportunity of complaining about the way in which these shows are continually portraying psychiatrists who make pat diagnoses of patients' problems without first obtaining their full medical history.
Cut back to milkman with doctor.
Milkman: (handing over yogurt) Mind you, that's just a pat diagnosis made without first obtaining your full medical history.
Cut to man at desk.
Man: (J.C.) I feel the time has come to complain about people who make rash complaints without first making sure that those complaints are justified.
Cut to Dr. Cream.
Dr. Cream: Are you referring to me?
Cut back to man.
Man: Not necessarily, however, I would like to point out that the BALPA spokesman was wearing the British Psychiatric Association Dinner Dance Club cuff-links.
Cut to Dr. Cream.
Dr. Cream: Oh yes, I noticed that too.
Cut to the BALPA man from the Flying Lessons sketch.
BALPA Man: (E.I.) These are not British Psychiatric Association Dinner Dance Club cuff-links.
Cut to man.
Cut to BALPA man.
BALPA Man: They are in fact British Sugar Corporation Gilbert-and-Sullivan Society cuff-links. It is in fact a sort of in-joke with us lads here at BALPA. I think the last speaker should have checked his facts before making his own rash complaint.
Cut to Dr. Cream.
Dr. Cream: Yes, that'll teach him.
Cut to BALPA man.
BALPA Man: However, I would just like to add a complaint about shows that have too many complaints in them as they get very tedious for the average viewer.
Cut to another man.
Another Man: (M.P.) I'd like to complain about people who hold things up by complaining about people complaining. It's about time something was done about it. (the sixteen-ton weight falls on him)
Cut to a street with milkman and lady riding on milk float. It comes to a halt. They get out, milkman hails a milkmaid with yoke and two pails.
Milkman: Nurse! Would you take Mrs. Pim to see Dr. Cream, please.
Milkmaid: (C.C.) Certainly, doctor. Walk this way, please.
Lady: Oh, if I could walk that way I...
Milkman and Milkmaid: Sssssh!
The milkmaid leads Mrs. Pim into a building, and into a psychiatrist's office. Dr. Cream is in a chair.
Milkmaid: Mrs. Pim to see you, Dr. Cream.
Dr. Cream: Ah yes. I just want another five minutes with Audrey. Could you show Mrs. Pim into the waiting room, please.
Milkmaid: Yes, doctor.
As milkmaid and Mrs. Pim leave the room we see that there is a cow on the couch.
Dr. Cream: Right, Audrey. When did you first start thinking you were a cow?
Milkmaid and Mrs. Pim emerge from building through a herd of cows and we then have a montage of shots of them walking through countryside as in opening sequence of the flying lesson sketch at beginning of show. They pass a tea trolley woman, the bishop learning his script...
Bishop: (M.P.) (Australian accent) 'Jeez, Mr. Belpit your legs is all swollen'...
...the secretary at her desk, past the stuffed animals which explodes, then past the tea lady again, and then past the bishop again and then past the secretary again, still going in the same direction.
Bishop: (Scots accent) 'Oi, Mr. Belpit - your great legs is all swollen!'...(then again with Japanese accent)