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Stephenson:Neal:Quicksilver:18:...heard by their future Queen... (Alan Sinder)

From the Quicksilver Metaweb.

For Chris' sake - I'm putting the entire Dennis Moore (lupin) Sketch here:

The Ballad of Dennis Moore

England, 1747

(Sounds of a coach and horses, galloping)

Dennis Moore (John Cleese): Stand and deliver!

Coachman (Graham Chapman): Not on your life (SHOT) ... aagh!

(Girl screams)

Dennis Moore: Let that be a warning to you all. You move at your peril, for I have two pistols here. I know one of them isn't loaded any more, but the other one is, so that's one of you dead for sure ... or just about for sure anyway. It certainly wouldn't be worth your while risking it because I'm a very good shot. I practice every day ... well, not absolutely every day, but most days in the week. I expect I must practice, oh, at least four or five times a week ... or more, really, but some weekends, like last weekend, there really wasn't the time, so that brings the average down a bit. I should say it's a solid four days' practice a week ... At least ... I mean ... I reckon I could hit that tree over there. Er ... the one just behind that hillock. The little hillock, not the big one on the ... you see the three trees over there? Well, the one furthest away on the right ...

Squire (Terry Jones): What, that tree there?

Dennis Moore: Which one?

Squire: The big beech with the sort of bare branch coming out of the top left.

Dennis Moore: No, no, no, not that one.

Girl: No, no, he means the one over there. Look, you see that one there.

Squire: Yes.

Girl: Well now, go two along to the right.

Coachman: Just near that little bush.

Girl: Well, it's the one just behind it.

Squire: Ah! The elm.

Dennis Moore: No, that's not an elm. An elm's got sort of great clumps for leaves like that. That's either a beech, a hornbeam, or, ah ...

Parson (Eric Idle): A larch?

Girl: No, no.

Dennis Moore: No, that was another series. No, what's the ... the one like that with the leaves that are sort of regularly veined and the veins go right out with sort of um ...

Girl: Serrated?

Dennis Moore: Serrated edges.

Parson: A willow!

Dennis Moore: Yes.

Parson: That's nothing like a willow.

Dennis Moore: Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven times out of ten, that's the point.

Parson: Never a willow.

Dennis Moore: Shut up! It's a hold-up, not a Botany lesson. Now, no false moves please. I want you to hand over all the lupins you've got.

Squire: Lupins?

Dennis Moore: Yes, lupins. Come on, come on.

Idle: What do you mean, lupins?

Dennis Moore: Don't try to play for time.

Idle: I'm not, but ... the "flower" lupin?

Dennis Moore: Yes, that's right.

Squire: Well we haven't got any lupins.

Girl: Honestly.

Dennis Moore: Look, my friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express.

Squire: Damn!

Girl: Oh, here you are.

Dennis Moore: In a bunch, in a bunch!

Squire: Sorry.

Dennis Moore: Come on, Concorde! (Gallops off)

Chorus (sings):

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,

galloping through the sward,

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,

and his horse Concorde.

He steals from the rich,

he gives to the poor,

Mr Moore, Mr Moore, Mr Moore.

Dennis Moore Rides Again (Fade up on a picture of Queen Victoria)

Voice Over: Just starting on BBC 1 now, "Victoria Regina" the inspiring tale of the simple crofter's daughter who worked her way up to become Queen of England and Empress of the Greatest Empire television has ever seen. On BBC 2 now Episode 3 of "George I" the new 116 part serial about the famous English King who hasn't been done yet. On ITV now the (sound of a punch) Ugh!

(Music starts. Picture of Royal crest.)

SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: "GEORGE I"

(The word "Charles" below the crest has been crossed out and "George I" written above it.)

CAPTION: "EPISODE 3 - THE GATHERING STORM"

(This looks very dog-cared and thumb-printed. Cut to studio set of an eighteenth-century ballroom. Some dancing is going on. A fop is talking to two ladies in the usual phony mouthing manner. They laugh meaninglessly.)

Grantley: Ah! 'Tis my lord of Buckingham. Pray welcome, Your Grace.

Buckingham: Thank you, Grantley.

Grantley: Ladies, may I introduce to you the man who prophesied that a German monarch would soon embroil this country in continental affairs.

First Lady: Oh, how so, my lord?

Buckingham: Madam, you will recall that prior to his accession our gracious sovereign George had become involved in the long standing Northern War, through his claims to Bremen and Verdun. These duchies would provide an outlet to the sea of the utmost value to Hanover. The Treaty of Westphalia has assigned them to Sweden.

Grantley: In 1648.

Buckingham: Exactly.

Grantley: Meanwhile Frederick William of Denmark, taking advantage of the absence of Charles XII, seized them; 1712.

Second Lady: Oh yes!

First Lady: It all falls into place. More wine?

Grantley: Oh, thank you.

Buckingham: However, just prior to his accession, George had made an alliance with Frederick William of Prussia, on the grounds of party feeling.

Grantley: While Frederick William had married George's only daughter.

First Lady: I remember the wedding.

Buckingham: But chiefly through concern at the concerted action against Charles XII ...

(There is a crash as Moore swings through the window on a rope. Everyone gasps and screams. He lands spectacularly.)

Dennis Moore: Stand and deliver.

All: Dennis Moore!

Dennis Moore: The same. And now my lords, my ladies ... your lupins, please.

(General bewilderment and consternation.)

Buckingham: Our what?

Dennis Moore: Oh, come come, don't play games with me my Lord of Buckingham.

Buckingham: What can you mean?

Dennis Moore: (putting pistol to his head) Your life or your lupins, my lord.

(Buckingham and the rest of the gathering now produce lupins which they have secreted about their several persons. They offer them to Moore.)

Dennis Moore: In a bunch, in a bunch.

(they arrange them in a bunch)

Thank you my friends, and now a good evening to you all.

(He grabs the rope, is hauled into air and disappears out of the window. There is a bump, a whinny and the sound of galloping hooves. The guests rush to the window to watch him disappear.)

Grantley: He seeks them here ... he seeks them there ...

he seeks those lupins everywhere.

The murdering blackguard! He's taken all our lupins.

First Lady: (produring one from her garter)

Not quite.

(Gasps of delight.)

Buckingham: Oh you tricked him!

Man: We still have one! (they all cheer)

(Cut to a similar montage as before of Moore galloping through forest, clearings and tiny villages. Song as follows.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,

Riding through the night.

Soon every lupin in the land

Will be in his mighty hand

He steals them from the rich

And gives them to the poor

Mr Moore, Mr Moore, Mr Moore.

(Towards the end of this he arrives at the same peasant's cottage as before, dismounts and runs to the cottage door. He pauses. From inside the cottage we hear quiet moaning. Cut to inside the cottage. In this rude hut, lit by a single candle, the female peasant lies apparently dying on a bunk. Lupins are everywhere, in the fire, on the bed, a large pile of them forms a pillow. The female peasant is moaning and the male peasant is kneeling beside her offering her a lupin. Moore enters slowly.)

Male Peasant:

(dressed largely in a lupin suit)

Try and eat some, my dear. It'll give you strength.

(Dennis Moore reverently approaches the bed; the male peasant looks round and sees him)

Oh Mr Moore, Mr Moore, she's going fast.

Dennis Moore: Don't worry, I've ... I've brought you something.

Male Peasant: Medicine at last?

Dennis Moore: No.

Male Peasant: Food?

Dennis Moore: No.

Male Peasant: Some blankets perhaps ... clothes ... wood for the fire ...

Dennis Moore: No. Lupins!

Male Peasant: (exploding) Oh Christ!

Dennis Moore: (astonished) I thought you liked them.

Male Peasant: I'm sick to bloody death of them.

Female Peasant: So am I.

Male Peasant: She's bloody dying and all you bring us is lupins. All we've eaten mate for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sauted lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin sorbet ... we sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we burn lupins, we even wear the bloody things!

Dennis Moore: Looks very smart.

Male Peasant: Oh shut up! We're sick to death with the stench of them. (sound of a miaow and then a bump) Look. The cat's just choked itself to death on them. (we see a dead cat with lupins coming out of its mouth) I don't care if I never see another lupin till the day I die! Why don't you go out and steal something useful!

Dennis Moore: Like what?

Male Peasant: Like gold and silver and clothes and wood and jewels and ...

Dennis Moore: Hang on, I'll get a piece of paper.

(Cut to a montage of shots of Moore riding away from the hut over which we hear the song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,

Dumdum alum the night.

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,

Dun de du ndum plight.

He steals dumdum dun

And dumdum dum dee

Dennis dun, Dennis dee, dum dum dum.

(Cut back to the ballroom to find the same people discussing British history.)

Buckingham: This, coupled with the presence of Peter and his Prussians at Mecklenburg and Charles and his Swedes in Pomerania, made George and Stanhope eager to come to terms with France.

Grantley: Meanwhile, a breach had now opened with ...

(Moore swings in as before.)

Grantley: Oh no, not again.

Buckingham: Come on.

Dennis Moore: Stand and deliver again! Your money, your jewellery, your ... hang on.

(he takes out a list) Your clothes, your snuff, your ornaments, your glasswear, your pussy cats ...

Buckingham: (aside to the first lady) Don't say anything about the lupins ...

Dennis Moore: Your watches, your lace, your spittoons ...

(Cut to a montage pretty much as before but with Moore riding through the glades dragging behind him a really enormous bag marked with "swag" in very olde English lettering. This bag is about twenty feet long and bumps along the ground behind the home with the appropriate sound effects to make it sound full of valuable jewels, gold, silver, etc. Song as follows.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,

Riding through the woods.

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore

With a bag of things.

He gives to the poor and he takes from the rich

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore.

(As he arrives at the poor peasant's cottage they run out. They all open the bag together to the peasants enormous and unmeasurate joy.)

Moore: Here we are.

SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: "THE END"

More Dennis Moore ...

Oh, once upon a time ... there lived in Wiltshire a young Chap called Dennis Moore. Now Dennis was a highwayman by profession ...

(we see Dennis Moore riding along with a big bag of swag)

... and for several months he had been stealing from the rich to give to the poor. One day ...

(Mix through to a shot of Dennis Moore arriving with another bag of goodies. The peasants who greet him are by now very smartly dressed and the cottage has been refurbished.)

Dennis Moore: Here we are again, Mr Jenkins.

(Dennis leaves the bag and wheels his horse around) There we are ... I'll be back.

(he rides off again purposefuly)

(Cut to ballroom, in fact it is the same one featured in "Dennis Moore Rides Again". The walls are bare and the people are down to their undergarments. They sit around the table gnawing pieces of bread and dipping them in a watery soup. The central bowl of soup contains a lupin.)

Buckingham: Meanwhile Frederick William bushy engaged in defending against the three great powers the province of Silesia ...

Grantley: ... which he had seized in the War of the Austrian succession against his word.

First Lady: Yes, I remember.

Man: ... was now dependent on Pitt's subsidies.

(Moore swings in through the window. They all respond to him with listless moans of disappointment.)

Dennis Moore: My lords, my ladies, on your feet, please.

(he is ignored and therefore says commandingly)

I must ask you to do exactly as I say or I shall be forced to shoot you right between the eyes. (they stand up hurriedly)

Well not right between the eyes, I mean when I say between the eyes, obviously I don't have to be that accurate, I mean, if I hit you in that sort of area, like that, obviously, that's all right for me, I mean, I don't have to try and sort of hit a point bisecting a line drawn between your pupils or anything like that. I mean, from my point of view, it's perfectly satisfactory ...

First Lady: What do you want? Why are you here?

Dennis Moore: Why are any of us here? I mean, when you get down to it, it's all so meaningless, isn't it? I mean what do any of us want ...

Buckingham: No, no, what do you want now?

Dennis Moore: Oh I see, oh just the usual things, a little place of my own, the right girl ...

Grantley: No, no, no! What do you want from us?

Dennis Moore: Oh sorry. Your gold, your silver, your jewellery.

Buckingham: You've taken it all.

First Lady: This is all we've got left.

Dennis Moore: That's nice. I'll have them. Come on. (he takes all the spoons)

Buckingham: You'd better take the bloody lupin too.

Dennis Moore: Thank you very much, I've gone through that stage. (he grabs the rope and swings out again)

(Short montage of Dennis riding accompanied by the song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore

Etcetera, etcetera ...

(He leaps off his home and runs to the door of the hut, throws the door open and enters. The little hut is now stuffed with all possible signs of wealth and all imaginable treasures.)

Male Peasant: What you got for us today then.

Dennis Moore: Well I've managed to find you four very nice silver spoons Mr Jenkins.

Male Peasant: (snatching them rudely.)

Who do you think you are giving us poor this rubbish?

Female Peasant: Bloody silver. Won't have it in the house.

(throws it away)

And those candlesticks you got us last week were only sixteen carat.

Male Peasant: Yes, why don't you go out and steal something nice like some Venetian silver.

Female Peasant: Or a Velasquez for the outside loo.

Dennis Moore: Oh all right. (turns purposefully)

(Usual montage of Dennis Moore riding plus song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore

Riding through the land

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore

Without a merry band

He steals from the poor.

And gives to the rich

Stupid bitch.

(Dennis Moore reins to sudden halt and looks over to camera.)

Dennis Moore: What did you sing?

Singers: (speaking) We sang ... he steals from the poor and gives to the rich.

Dennis Moore: Wait a tic ... blimey, this redistribution of wealth is trickier than I thought.