Radio Announcer: That was Part 2 of the death of Mary Queen of Scots; adapted for the radio. And now, Radio Four will explode. [intreval music plays until the radio suddenly combusts]
Pepperpot 1: We'll have to watch the telly then.
Pepperpot 2: Yes.
Pepperpot 1: Well, what's on the television then?
Pepperpot 2: Looks like a penguin.
Pepperpot 1: No, no, no, no! I didn't mean 'what's on the television set?' I meant 'what program?'
Pepperpot 2: Oh.
Pepperpot 2: Funny that penguin being there, isn't it? What's it doing there?
Pepperpot 1: Standing.
Pepperpot 2: I can see that!
Pepperpot 1: If it lays an egg, it will fall down the back of the television set.
Pepperpot 2: We'll have to watch that. Unless it's a male.
Pepperpot 1: Ooh, I hadn't thought of that.
Pepperpot 2: Yes. Looks fairly butch.
Pepperpot 1: Perhaps it comes from next door.
Pepperpot 2: Penguins don't come from next door; they come from the Antarctic!
Pepperpot 1: BURMA!
Pepperpot 2: Why'd you say "Burma"?
Pepperpot 1: I panicked.
Pepperpot 2: Perhaps it's from the zoo.
Pepperpot 1: Which zoo?
Pepperpot 2: How should I know which zoo? I'm not Doctor Bloody Bernofsky!
Pepperpot 1: How does Doctor Bernofsky know which zoo it came from?
Pepperpot 2: He knows everything.
Pepperpot 1: Ooh, I wouldn't like that. It'd take all the mystery out of life. Anyway, if it came from the zoo, it'd have 'Property of the Zoo' stamped on it.
Pepperpot 2: No it wouldn't. They don't stamp animals 'Property of the Zoo'! You couldn't stamp a huge lion!
Pepperpot 1: They stamp them when they're small.
Pepperpot 2: What happens when they moult?
Pepperpot 1: Lions don't moult!
Pepperpot 2: No, but penguins do. There! I've run rings around you, logically.
Pepperpot 1: Oh, intercourse the penguin!

Reverend Arthur Belling: There are a great many people in the country today, who through no fault of their own, are sane. Some of them were born sane, while others became sane later in their lives. It is up to people like us, who are out of our tiny minds, to help them overcome their sanity. You can start in small ways, with ping pong ball eyes and a funny voice, and then perhaps paint half of your body red and their other half green, and then stand in a bowl of treacle going "SQWAK SQWAK SQWAK!" Finally, you can roll around on the floor going "p'ting p'ting p'ting!"
Announcer: The Reverend Arthur Belling is vicar at the St. Loony Up the Cream Bun and Jam.

"Prejudice" Host: Well now, the result of last week's competition when we asked you to find a derogatory term for the Belgians. Well, the response was enormous and we took quite a long time sorting out the winners. There were some very clever entries. Mrs Hatred of Leicester Said 'let's not call them anything, let's just ignore them'. And a Mr St John of Huntingdon said he couldn't think of anything more derogatory than 'Belgians'. But in the end we settled on three choices: number three ... 'The Sprouts', sent in by Mrs Vicious of Hastings... very nice; number two..... 'The Phlegms', from Mrs Childmolester of Worthing; but the winner was undoubtedly from Mrs No-Supper-For-You from Norwood in Lancashire... 'Miserable Fat Belgian Bastards'!

Vince: One day, I was sitting at home, threatening the kids, when this tank drives up. One of Dinsdale's boys gets out all nice and friendly like, and says Dinsdale wants to have a talk with me. So, he chains me to the back of the tank, and takes me for a scrape round to Dinsdale's place. Dinsdale's there in the conversation pit with Doug, Charles Paisley the Baby Crusher, a couple of film producers and a fellow called Kierkegaard who just sits there, biting the heads off whippets. And Dinsdale says 'I hear you've been a naughty boy, Clement', and he splits my nostrils open, saws my leg off and pulls my liver out. And I says, 'My name's not Clement', and then he loses his temper and nails my head to the floor.

Announcer: And we move to Bristol where they have a special, Very Silly candidate...
Election Offical: Malcolm Peter-Brian-Telescope-Adrian-Umbrella Stand-Jasper-Wednesday-[pop]-Stoat Gobbler-John-Raw Vegetable-[bark]-Arthur-Norman-Michael-[honk]-Featherstone-Smith-[whistle]-Northgot-Edwards-Harris-[bang]-WOOOOOO-Mason-chuffchuffchuffchuff-Frampton-Jones-Fruit Bat-Gilbert-we'll keep a welcome in the-[bang bang bang]-Williams-If I could Walk That Way-Jenkin-[vvvt vvt vvvt vvvvewwww]-Tiger Drawers-Pratt-Thompson-Raindrops keep falling on my head-Darcy-Carter-[honk]-Pussycat-Don't sleep in the subway-Barton-Mannering-[squeek]-mmmmm-Smith...
Anouncer: Very Silly Party.
Election Offical: Two votes.

Teacher: [to a student] So, we want to learn about pointed sticks, do we? Feeling all high and mighty, eh? Fresh fruit not good enough, eh? Oh, oh, oh. Well, let me tell you something, my lad! When you're walking home tonight, and some homicidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries, don't come crying to me!

Documentary Presenter: The gastropod is a randy little fellow whose tiny brain scarcely strays from the subject of you-know-what. The randiest of the gastropods is the limpet; this hot-blooded little beast, with its tent-like shell, is always on the job. Its extramarital activities are something startling. Frankly, I don't know how the female limpet finds the time to adhere to the rock face! How am I doing?
Gladys: Disgusting!
George: But more interesting!
Documentary Presenter: Another loose-living gastropod is the periwinkle. This shameless little libertine with its characteristic ventral locomotion is not the marrying kind! "Anywhere, anytime" is its motto, off with the shell and they're at it!
Gladys: What about the lemmelebrates?
Documentary Presenter: I'm coming to them. The Great Scallop: This tacky, scrofulous old rapist is second in depravity only to the common clam. This latter is a right whore! A harlot! A cynical, bed-hopping, firm-breasted, Rabelaisian bit of seafood that makes Fanny Hill look like a dead pope! And finally, among the lemmelebrate bivalves, that most depraved of the whole subspecies, the whelk. The whelk is nothing but a homosexual of the worst kind! This gay boy of the gastropods, this queer crustacian, this mincing mollusk, this screaming, prancing, limp-wristed queen of the deep makes me sick!

. . .
TV Announcer: It's just gone eight o'clock and time for the penguin on top of your television set to explode.
[The penguin explodes]
Pepperpot 1: How did he know that was going to happen?
TV Announcer: It was an inspired guess. And now...

Arthur Wilson: [talking to George Head about the trek to Mt. Kilinmanjaro, after he explains about the route] Does anyone speak Swahili?
George Head: Oh, I think most of them do down there.
Arthur Wilson: Does anyone in our party speak Swahili, sir?
George Head: Well, the matron's got a smattering.
Arthur Wilson: Apart from the two matrons.
George Head: Good God! I forgot about that.
Arthur Wilson: Apart from them, who else is coming?
George Head: Well, we've got the Arthur Brown twins, two botanists called Maychen, the William Johnston brothers-
Arthur Wilson: Two of them?
George Head: No, four of them; pair of identical twins. And a couple of the Ken Zobana quads; the other four pulled out. And of course, you two.

Announcer: This man, he doesn't know when he's beaten! He doesn't know when he's winning, either. He has no�� sort of�� sensory apparatus��

Mr. Equator: [introducing himself to Victor] Good evening. I'm Equator; Mr. Equator. Like 'round the middle of the Earth, only with an L.
Audrey: [laughs hysterically]
Mr. Equator: And this is my wife, Audrey. She smells a bit, but she has a heart of gold.
Victor: There must be some kind of mistake, because this isn't-
Mr. Equator: [of Iris] Who's she? Who's the bird?
Victor: I-
Mr. Equator: You've got a nice pair there, haven't you, love? [fondles Iris by the breasts and kisses her, causing her to spazz out] Shut up, you silly bitch. It's only a bit of fun.

Arthur Nudge: Eh? know what I mean? Know what I mean? Nudge, nudge! Know what I mean? Say no more! A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat, say no more, say no more!
Man: Look, are you insinuating something?
Arthur Nudge: Oh, no no no no... yes.
Man: Well?
Arthur Nudge: Well, you're a man of the world, squire... you've been there, you've been around.
Man: What do you mean?
Arthur Nudge: Well, I mean, you've done it... you've slept... with a lady.
Man: Yes.
Arthur Nudge: What's it like?
Bicycle Repair Man

Mr. Anchovy: I've been a chartered accountant for 20 years. I want a new job. Something exciting that will let me live!
Counselor: Well, chartered accoutancy is a rather exciting job, isn't it?
Mr. Anchovy: Exciting?! No, it's not! It's dull! Dull, dull, my God it's dull! It's so dull and tedious and stuffy and boring and desperately dull!
Counselor: Well, er, yes Mr. Anchovy, but you see your report here says that you are an extremely dull person. You see, our experts describe you as an appallingly dull fellow, unimaginative, timid, lacking in initiative, spineless, easily dominated, no sense of humour, tedious company and irrepressibly drab and awful. And whereas in most professions these would be considerable drawbacks, in chartered accountancy, they're a positive boon.
The First Man to Jump The Channel

Arthur Mee: Well, ladies and gentlemen, I don't think any of our contestants tonight succeeded in encapsulating the intricacies of Proust's masterwork. So, I'm going to give the award to the girl with the biggest tits.

Arthur Name: Here's a joke I heard down in the pub: what's brown, and sounds like a bell? Dung!