One team exchange a random series of words with no connection whatsoever. The other team may challenge if they spot a connection, and if the chairman agrees with the challenge, they take over. Words with a direct connection are usually ignored in favor of words with a roundabout, absurd connection. I never miss him. Jeremy: Where are we? Tim: Somewhere between Jeremy: Oh, there's a pub along here. Fancy a drink, Barry? Cryer, that is?
Tim: No, no, not for me, thanks. Barry: Something incredible on thirty-fourth street. Something you would hardly believe on thirty-fourth street I find all this incredibly offensive, incidentally Humph : Graeme, here's a first line for you. I was startled to see Rudolf Hess Humph: And prizes mean points. What do prizes mean? Audience: hesitant Points! Well, at least you're halfway intelligent.
Butler : This is Lord Bedside. Lord Bedside : How do you do. Welcome to Bedside House. Butler : I thought you were going to say "Manor", sir. Lord Bedside : Yes, so I was. Welcome to Manor House. Tim: Mr. Barry: London policemen are affectionately known as "titface". Graeme: If you're invited for a game of croquet, it's traditional to give your host a gift of a dozen moles.
Bill Bailey: In England, the hedgehog is sacred. Humph: Once an odd combination, the swanee whistle and the kazoo now go together as well as bangers and mash, fish and chips, and diarrhea and vomiting. Humph : So, Barry and Graeme, you were right to go lower.
And Tim gets ten points. Tim, question or nominate? Tim : Nominate Graeme! Humph : No, the correct answer is "nominate Barry". You lose ten points. Humph : See a pin, pick it up, all day long you'll have Barry : A pin. Barry: Lift the hems of several garments! Graeme: Snap your garters with riddled mirth! Dear Mr. Nick, I'm on the train.
Yours sincerely, Mrs. Dear Dr. Clare, So glad that Tim Brooke-Taylor is back. Without him the show was like Hamlet without the balcony scene. Graeme: A boy called Harry Barry: Or dirty. Graeme: Ah, yes. Dirty Potter! Humph: Who's. Not pulling their weight. Dragging you down. It's time to vote off. The weakest link. Humph: In "Hunt The Slipper", I'll sit with my eyes closed while the slipper is passed around behind the teams' backs. After a few seconds of slipper-passing, I shall call out "slipper search on", and then I'll open my eyes.
Obviously I shall have no idea where the slipper is, but the teams should keep passing the slipper around secretly, and I shall have to guess who's holding the slipper and challenge them by pointing and calling out "slipper holder". I'm seventy-eight, for Christ's sake. Tim: Heckle. Ross Noble : Banjo.
Tim: Butterfly. Ross: Creosote. Sixties rock band. Jack: No, uh, I can't let you have that, Barry I think you wouldn't be able to name one of their albums if I asked you. Barry: Creosote Butterfly One. Jack: Apart from the eponymous first album, obviously. Graeme: I think it is the duty of every good citizen to heckle a banjo.
That was in there. Tim : Where the hell did that come from? Your twin brother Jeremy couldn't sing at all! Jeremy : I've just realized, if I start singing in tune I'm finished. It'd be like the Elephant Man having a nose job. Tim: We're going to have to throw all of these back now Barry: Those Y-fronts were mine, Tim.
Humph: If we could have these knickers cleared away Willie: Could I have mine back? Tim: Gosh, here are some women's ones! Barry: singing Charles Aznavour's "She" She may be the song that summer sings, May be the chill that autumn brings, May be a hundred different things-- Tim: I love you, Barry.
Barry: laughing Within the measure of a day Barry: in an elimination round So it's just you and me now, is it? Graeme: Yeah. Barry: I give it three weeks. Humph: Okay, here's one--why do we kiss? Graeme: It was a moment of madness, Humph! Barry: We are what we are, Humph. He had his own set of running gags - mock letters from a "Mrs Trellis of North Wales", frequent insinuations that the show's excellent pianist, Colin Sell, is actually rubbish, and references to "our lovely scorer, Samantha", with ever more contrived double-entendres about what she gets up to during the games.
Legend has it that some of Radio 4's less well-attuned listeners have been known to write in complaining about the treatment supposedly handed out to the - obviously - non-existent young lady. Who'd be in her fifties by now, anyway. After the very sad death of one of the world's oldest ever game show hosts to die in active service, the programme took a year out to pay tribute to the legend that was Lyttelton.
After some navel gazing and soul searching, the programme returned with guest hosts taking the chair. Following his guest appearance, Jack Dee took on the role on a more permanent basis. Very little changed in the next decade. There were more guest slots, up-and-coming talent unfamiliar to the Radio 4 audience, such as Sandi Toksvig and Miles Jupp. Production was delayed to the autumn, by which time the BBC had worked out how to record people laughing at the recording in their homes, and splice it over the comics doing silly things.
The wonky brass number with military overtones is called The Shickel Shamble , composed by Ron Goodwin with a bit by Haydn. It originally hails from the film Monte Carlo or Bust!
The earliest episodes made an effort to keep honest and accurate scores, even going so far as to declare a winner at the end of the show. This experimental idea didn't catch on. Highly recommended! Add to Cart failed. Please try again later.
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I'm trying to introduce the next round. Well, carry on. Tim: Yes, don't mind us. So now-- Tim: Anyway, so I said to her Jack Dee: Don't squeeze the toothpaste from the top instead of from the bottom.
This is one of the small things in life that Jeremy: Shouldn't be in your bottom. Jack: Always remember your wife is like tar. Melt her, and she will Tim: Get laid by a bunch of workmen. Graeme: slowly Move your ass 'fore you get yourself pimp-slapped, bitch. Humph: Well, that's almost all we've got time for, but we've got just long enough for a round of Doctor's Songbook.
Tim, will you start? Tim: Knees Up Mother Brown. Humph: Right, well Graeme: That's the end of our contract. Jeremy: I'm sorry I said the fuck-w. I do apologize, ladies and gentlemen. Willie: Well, he's an alternative, you know. He has to say it every now and again.
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