(Close up on a sign saying 'Harley Street'. Stirring music.
Mix through to interior of a smart, plush, ever so expensive Harley
Street consulting room. The music swells and fades. Knocking at
door, a short pause, then T.F. Gumby enters, backwards.)
T. F. Gumby: Doctor! Doctor! DOCTOR! (he goes up to the
antique desk and bangs the bell violently; he smashes the intercom
and generally breaks the desk up) Doctor! Doctor! DOCTOR!
DOCTOR! Doctor! Doctor! Where is the Doctor?
(A pause. Then another door opens and another Gumby appears.)
T. F. Gumby: Are you the' brain specialist?
T. F. Gumby: Are you the brain specialist?
Specialist: No, no, I am not the brain specialist. No, no,
I am not... Yes. Yes I am.
T. F. Gumby: My brain hurts!
Specialist: Well let's take a look at it, Mr. Gumby.
(Gumby specialist starts to pull up Gumby's sweater.)
T. F. Gumby: No, no, no, my brain in my head.
(specialist thumps him on the head)
Specialist: It will have to come out.
T. F. Gumby: Out? Of my head?
Specialist: Yes! All the bits of it. Nurse! Nurse! (a
nurse enters) Nurse, take Mr. Gumby to a brain surgeon.
Nurse: Yes doctor...
(She leads Gumby out. In the background the specialist is
grunting and shouting.)
Specialist: Where's the 'Lancet'?
Nurse: (to T. F. Gumby) He's brilliant you know.
Specialist: Where's the bloody 'Lancet'? My brain hurts
(Ambulance racing. 'Dr Kildare' theme. Cut to operating
theatre. The surgeon is not a Gumby.)
Surgeon: (putting on Gumby props) Gloves ...
glasses... moustache... handkerchief... (Gumby voice) I'm
going to operate!!
(We now see he is surrounded by Gumbys. T. F. Gumby is on
All: Let's operate.
(They begin to use woodworking implements on T. F. Gumby.)
T. F. Gumby: Hello!
Surgeon: Ooh! We forgot the anesthetic!
Operating Gumbys: The anesthetic! The anesthetic!
(At that moment a Gumby anesthetist comes crashing through the
wall with two gas cylinders.)
Gumby Anesthetist: I've come to anesthetize you!!
(He raises a gas cylinder and strikes Gumby hard over the head
with it. Bong. Blackness.)