Cut to a photo of Picadilly Circus.
Her Royal Highness
We mix through to the dummy Princess Margaret at a desk, as
for awards ceremony. At the desk also, on either side of her, two
men in dinner jackets and a pantomime goose. Bill Cotton is nowhere
to be seen. High up above them, there is a screen. Enter Dickie
Dickie: Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Chairman, friends of the
society, your dummy Royal Highness. (she gives a dummy wave)
Once again, the year has come full circle, and for me there can be
no greater privilege, and honor, than to that to which it is my lot
to have befallen this evening. There can be no finer honor than to
welcome into our midst tonight a guest who has not only done only
more than not anyone for our Society, but nonetheless has only done
more. He started in the film industry in 1924, he started again in
1946, and finally in 1963. He has been dead for four years, but he
has not let that prevent him from coming here this evening. (he
gets out an onion and holds it to his eyes; tears pour out)
Ladies and gentlemen, no welcome could be more heartfelt than that
which I have no doubt you will all want to join with me in giving
this great showbiz stiff. Ladies and gentlemen, to read the
nominations for the Light Entertainment Award, the remains of the
late Sir Alan Waddle.
There is awful continuity music. Terrific applause.
Attenborough weeps profusely. A man in a brown coat comes in pushing
a white five-foot plinth. Behind him comes another man carrying a
bronze funeral urn. It has a black tie on. Cut to stock film of the
audience standing in rapturous applause. The urn is put on top of
the plinth and a microphone placed in front of it. Slight pause. Cut
to Dickie weeping profusely. The urn clears its throat.
The Urn: (silly voice) The nominations are Mr.
Edward Heath, for the new suit sketch, (zoom quickly in to film
on the screen of the lady of Brussels throwing ink all over Mr.
Heath; cut back to the hall for applause) Mr. Richard Baker for
Cut to Richard Baker.
Richard Baker: Lemon curry?
Cut back to urn.
The Urn: And the Third Parachute Brigade Amateur Dramatic
Society for the Oscar Wilde skit.