Mother: (Terry Jones, turning off radio) Liberal rubbish! Klaus!
Klaus: (Eric Idle) Yeah?
M: Whaddaya want with yer jugged fish?
M: The jugged fish IS 'alibut!
K: Well, what fish 'ave you got that isn't jugged?
K: What, rabbit fish?
M: Uuh, yes...it'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!
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 know...kids 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?
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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