SILLY VICAR/ LEAPY LEE

 

Voice Over: (M.P.) And now an appeal for sanity from the Reverend Arthur Belling.

 

Cut to studio. A vicar sitting facing camera. It pulls out slowly to reveal he has an axe in his head.

 Appeal for Sanity

Reverend Belling: (G.C.) You know, there are many people in the country today who, through no fault of their own, are sane. Some of them were born sane. Some of them became sane later in their lives. It is up to people like you and me who are out of our tiny little minds to try and help these people overcome their sanity. You can start in small ways with ping-pong ball eyes and a funny voice, and then you can paint half of your body red and the other half green, and then you can jump up and down in a bowl of treacle going 'squawk, squawk, squawk...' And then you can go 'Neurhhh! Neurhhh!' and then you can roll around on the floor going 'pting pting pting' ... (he rolls around on the floor)

 

Voice Over: The Reverend Arthur Belling is Vicar of St Loony Up The Cream Bun and Jam. And now an appeal on behalf of the National Trust.

 

Caption: 'AN APPEAL ON BEHALF OF THE NATIONAL TRUSS'

 

Cut to a smartly dressed woman.

 

Woman: (E.I.) Good evening. My name is Leapy Lee. No, sorry. That's the name of me favourite singer. My name is Mrs Fred Stone. No, no, Mrs Fred Stone is the wife of me favourite tennis player. My name is Bananas. No, no, that's me favourite fruit. I'm Mrs Nice- evening- out- at- the- pictures- then- perhaps- a- dance- at- a- club- and- back- to- his- place- for- a- quick- cup- of- coffee- and- little- bit- of - no! No, sorry, that's me favourite way of spending a night out. Perhaps I am Leapy Lee? Yes! I must be Leapy Lee! Hello fans! Leapy Lee here! (sings) Little arrows that will... (phone rings, she answers) Hello? ... Evidently I'm not Leapy Lee. I thought I probably wouldn't be. Thank you, I'll tell them. (puts phone down) Hello. Hello, Denis Compton here. No no... I should have written it down. Now where's that number? (as she looks in her bag she talks to herself) I'm Mao Tse Tung... I'm P. P. Arnold... I'm Margaret Thatcher ... I'm Sir Gerald Nabarro ... (she dials) Hello? Sir Len Hutton here. Could you tell me, please ... oh, am I? Oh, thank you. (puts phone down) Good evening. I'm Mrs What-number-are-you-dialing-please?

 

A boxer (T. G.) rushes in and fells her with one blow. Film of Women's Institute applauding.

    

   

   
 

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