12 autumn
Monty Python’s Meaning of Life
Scene 12 : Part Six: Autumn Years
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ANNOUNCER: The Meaning of Life: Part Six: The Autumn Years.
[piano music]
NOËL COWARD: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Here’s a little number I tossed off recently in the Caribbean.
[singing]
Isn’t it awfully nice to have a penis?
Isn’t it frightfully good to have a dong?
It’s swell to have a stiffy.
It’s divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger
To the world’s biggest prick.
So, three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas.
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife’s best friend,
Your Percy, or your cock.
You can wrap it up in ribbons.
You can slip it in your sock,
But don’t take it out in public,
Or they will stick you in the dock,
And you won’t come back.
Oh, thank you very much.
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RANDOM: Beautiful!
[applause]
MAX: Oh, what a frightfully witty song.
MAX’S WIFE: Terribly clever.
GUEST #1: Jolly good.
GUEST #1’S WIFE: Marvellous.
[suspenseful music]
FISH #5: Oh, shit! It’s Mr. Creosote.
MAÎTRE D: Ah, good afternoon, sir, and how are we today?
MR. CREOSOTE: Better.
MAÎTRE D: Better?
MR. CREOSOTE: Better get a bucket. I’m going to throw up.
MAÎTRE D: Uh, Gaston! A bucket for monsieur. There you are, monsieur.
[snap]
[goosh]
Merci, Gaston.
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MR. CREOSOTE: I haven’t finished.
MAÎTRE D: Oh! Pardon. Gaston! A thousand pardons, monsieur.
MR. CREOSOTE: Uhh.
[goosh]
MAÎTRE D: Now, zis afternoon, we have monsieur’s favourite: ze jugged hare. Ze hare is very high, and ze sauce is very rich with truffles, anchovies, Grand Marnier, bacon, and cream. Thank you, Gaston.
MR. CREOSOTE: There’s still more.
MAÎTRE D: Oh! Allow me. A new bucket for monsieur,…
[goosh]
…and ze cleaning woman,… and maintenant. Would monsieur care for an apéritif, or would he prefer to order straight away?
[goosh]
MR. CREOSOTE: Oh.
MAÎTRE D: Uh, today we have, uh, for appetizers: Excuse me. Mhmm. Uh, moules marinières, pâté de foie gras, beluga caviar, eggs Benedictine, tart de poireaux– that’s leek tart,– frogs’ legs amandine, or oeufs de caille Richard Shepherd– c’est à dire, little quails’ eggs on a bed of puréed mushroom. It’s very delicate. Very subtle.
MR. CREOSOTE: I’ll have the lot.
MAÎTRE D: A wise choice, monsieur. And now, how would you like it served? All, uh, mixed up togezer in a bucket?
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah,… with the eggs on top.
MAÎTRE D: But of course, avec les oeufs frites.
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah, and don’t skimp on the pâté.
MAÎTRE D: Oh, monsieur, I assure you, just because it is mixed up wis all ze other things, we would not dream of giving you less than ze full amount. In fact, I will personally make sure you have a double helping. Maintenant quelque chose à boire. Something to drink, monsieur?
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah, I’ll have six bottles of Château Latour Forty-five…
MAÎTRE D: Forty-five.
MR. CREOSOTE: …and a double Jeroboam of champagne.
MAÎTRE D: Bon, and the usual brown ales?
MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah. No, wait a minute. I think I can only manage six crates today.
MAÎTRE D: [tut tut tut tut] I hope monsieur was not overdoing it last night.
MR. CREOSOTE: Shut up!
MAÎTRE D: D’accord. Ah! Ze new bucket and ze cleaning woman.
[goosh]
[goosh]
[goosh]
[goosh]
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MAÎTRE D: Perhaps you’re not… happy with the service?
GUEST #4: No, no. No complaints.
GUEST #4’S WIFE: It’s just that we have to go. I’m having rather a heavy period.
GUEST #3: Hmm.
GUEST #3’S WIFE: Mm mm.
GUEST #4: And… we… have… a… train to catch.
MAÎTRE D: Ah.
GUEST #4’S WIFE: Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. We have a train to catch, and I don’t want to start bleeding all over the seats. Ha, hm hm hm.
MAÎTRE D: Madam?
GUEST #4: Perhaps we should be going.
GUEST #4’S WIFE: Oh.
MAÎTRE D: Oh! Very well, monsieur. Thank you so much. So nice to see you, and I hope very much we will see you again very soon. Au revoir, monsieur.
[clunk]
Oh, dear. I have trodden in monsieur’s bucket.
GUESTS: [mumbling]
[slurp]
MAÎTRE D: Another bucket for monsieur,…
[goosh]
…and perhaps a hose. M-hm.
MAX: [retch]
MAX’S WIFE: Oh, Max. Really!
GUEST #2: [hiccup]
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning]
MAÎTRE D: And finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint.
MR. CREOSOTE: Nah.
MAÎTRE D: Oh, sir, it’s only a tiny, little, thin one.
MR. CREOSOTE: No. Fuck off. I’m full.
MAÎTRE D: Oh, sir. Hmm?
MR. CREOSOTE: [groan]
MAÎTRE D: It’s only wafer thin.
MR. CREOSOTE: Look. I couldn’t eat another thing. I’m absolutely stuffed. Bugger off.
MAÎTRE D: Oh, sir, just– just one.
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning] All right. Just one.
MAÎTRE D: Just the one, monsieur. Voilà.
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning]
MAÎTRE D: Bon appétit.
MR. CREOSOTE: [groaning]
[suspenseful music]
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[music stops]
[crash]
[BOOM]
[goosh]
[goosh]
[mayhem]
MAÎTRE D: Thank you, sir, and now, here’s ze check.