The Dead Bishop Sketch

Mother: (Terry Jones, turning off radio) Liberal rubbish! Klaus!

Klaus: (Eric Idle) Yeah?

M: Whaddaya want with yer jugged fish?

K: 'Alibut.

M: The jugged fish IS 'alibut!

K: Well, what fish 'ave you got that isn't jugged?

M: Rabbit.

K: What, rabbit fish?

M: Uuh,'s got fins....

K: Is it dead?

M: Well, it was coughin' up blood last night.

K: All right, I'll have the dead unjugged rabbit fish.

(Voice over: one dead unjugged rabbit fish later:)

K: (putting down his knife and fork) Well, that was really 'orrible.

M: Aaw, you're always complainin'!

K: Wha's for afters?

M: Rat cake, rat sorbet, rat pudding, or strawberry tart.

K: (eyes lighting up) Strawberry tart?

M: Well, it's got *some* rat in it.

K: 'Ow much?

M: Three. Rather a lot, really.

K: Well, I'll have a slice without so much rat in it.

Voice Over: One slice of strawberry tart without so much rat in it later:

K: (putting down fork and knife) Appalling.

M: Moan, Moan, Moan!

Son: (Graham Chapman, coming in the door) 'Ello Mum. 'Ello Dad.

K: 'Ello son.

S: There's a dead bishop on the landing, dad!

K: Really?

M: Where's it from?

S: Waddya mean?

M: What's its diocese?

S: Well, it looked a bit Bath and Wells-ish to me...

K: (getting up and going out the door) I'll go and have a look.

M: I don't bringin' 'em in here....

S: It's not me!

M: I've got three of 'em down by the bin, and the dustmen won't touch 'em!

K: (coming back in) Leicester.

M: 'Ow d'you know?

K: Tattooed on the back o' the neck. I'll call the police.

M: Shouldn't you call the church?

S: Call the church police!

K: All right. (shouting) The Church Police!

(sirens racing up, followed by a tremendous crash)

(the church police burst in the door)

Detective: (Michael Palin) What's all this then, Amen!

M: Are you the church police?

All the police officers: (in unison) Ho, Yes!

M: There's another dead bishop on the landing, vicar sargeant!

Detective: Uh, Detective Parson, madam. I see... suffrican, or diocisian?

M: 'Ow should I know?

D: It's tatooed on the back o' their neck. (spying the tart) 'Ere, is that rat tart?

M: yes.

D: Disgusting! Right! Men, the chase is on! Now we should all kneel!

(they all kneel)

All: O Lord, we beseech thee, tell us 'oo croaked Leicester!


Voice of the Lord: The one in the braces, he done it!

Klaus: It's a fair cop, but society's to blame.

Detective: Agreed. We'll be charging them too.

K: I'd like you to take the three boddabin into consideration.

D: Right. I'll now ask you all to conclude this harrest with a hymn.

All: All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The church has nicked them all.

Continue to the next sketch... Jungle Restaurant

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