Parrot Sketch Not Included: Twenty Years of Monty Python Page #5

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Bonsoir. Ici nous avons

les diagrammes modernes

d'un mounton Anglo-Francais.

[continues in French]

Maintenant...

Baa baa baa...

Nous avons dans la tete,

Le cabine. Ici, on se trouve

le petit capitaine Anglais

monsieur Trubshawe.

Vive Brian, wherever you are.

D'accord, d'accord.

Maintenant, je vous

presente mon collegue,

le pouf celebre

Jean-Brian Zatapathique.

Merci.

Maintenant, le mouton,

le landing, les wheels.

Bon.

Les wheels, ici.

C'est formidable,

n'est ce pas est bon?

[continues unintelligibly]

Baa baa baa.

Le derriere du mouton...

Choo choo choo.

Merci beaucoup.

Mais...

O sont les bagages?

O sont les bagages?

O est le voyageur?

Le voyageur.

Merci.

Les voyageurs!

Les bagages!

Ils sont ici!

Et maintenant...

Baa baa.

Baa baa.

Baa baa.

Fantastique.

Un, deux, trois.

Baa baa!

Baa baa!

[music plays]

And now for something

completely different.

Gentlemen, we have

two basic suggestions

for the design of this

architectural block--

The residential block.

I thought it best that

the architects themselves

came in to explain the

advantages of both designs.

[knock on door]

That must be the first

architect now.

Ah, yes, it's mr. Wiggin

of Ironside and Malone.

Good morning, gentlemen.

This is a 12-story block,

combining classical

neo-Georgian features

with all the advantages

of modern design.

The tenants arrive

in the entrance hall,

are carried along the corridor

on a conveyor belt,

and pass murals depicting

Mediterranean scenes,

towards the rotating knives.

The last 20 feet

of the corridor

are heavily soundproofed.

The blood pours down

these chutes,

and the mangled flesh

slurps into these--

Excuse me.

Did you say knives?

Oh, rotating knives. Yes.

Are you proposing

to slaughter our tenants?

Does that not fit in

with your plans?

No, no. We wanted

a simple block of flats.

I see. I hadn't correctly

divined your attitude

towards your tenants.

You see, I mainly design

slaughterhouses.

Yes, a pity.

This is a real beaut.

None of your blood

caked on the walls

and flesh flying

out of the windows,

inconveniencing passers-by.

Well done, but we did want

a block of flats.

Won't you reconsider?

Think of the tourist trade.

It's just that we wanted

a block of flats

and not an abattoir.

Yes, well, of course.

That's the sort

of philistine, pig ignorance

I've come to expect

from you non-creative garbage.

You sit there on your loathsome,

spotty behinds

squeezing blackheads,

not caring a tinkers cuss

about the struggling artist.

You excrement!

You lousy, hypocritical,

old whining toadies

with your lousy colour TV sets

and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs

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