Scene: a 1920s-style drawing room Chapman: I say! Cleveland: Yes, Daddy? Chapman: Croquet hoops look dam' pretty this afternoon. Cleveland: Frightfully damn pretty. Idle (as her mother): They're coming along *awfully* well this year. Chapman: Yes, better than your Aunt Lavinia's croquet hoops. Cleveland: Ugh! Dreadful tin things. Idle: I did tell her to stick to wood. Chapman: Yes, you can't beat wood. Gorn. Idle: What's gone, dear? Chapman: Nothing, nothing -- just like the word, it gives me confidence. Gorn. Gorn -- it's got a sort of *woody* quality about it. Gorn. Go-o-orn. Much better than 'newspaper' or 'litter bin'. Cleveland: Ugh! Frightful words! Idle: Perfectly dreadful! Chapman: 'Newspaper' -- 'litter bin' -- 'litter bin' -- dreadful *tinny* sort of word. (Cleveland screams) Chapman: Tin, tin, tin. Idle: Oh, don't say 'tin' to Rebecca, you know how it upsets her. Chapman: Sorry, old horse. Idle: 'Sausage.' Chapman: 'Sausage'! There's a good woody sort of word, 'sausage'. 'Gorn.' Cleveland: 'Antelope!' Chapman: Where? On the lawn? Cleveland: No, no, Daddy. Just the word. Chapman: Don't want antelope nibbling the hoops. Cleveland: No, no -- 'ant-e-lope'. Sort of nice and woody type of thing. Idle: Don't think so, Becky old chap. Chapman: No, no -- 'antelope' - 'antelope', *tinny* sort of word. (Cleveland screams) Chapman: Oh, sorry old man. Idle: Really, Mansfield. Chapman: Well, she's got to come to terms with these things. 'Seemly.' 'Prodding.' 'Vac-u-um.' 'Leap.' Cleveland: Oh -- hate 'leap'. Idle: Perfectly dreadful. Cleveland: Sort of PVC sort of word, don't you know. Idle: Lower middle. Chapman: 'Bound!' Idle: Now you're talking! Chapman: 'Bound.' 'Vole!' 'Recidivist!' Idle: Bit *tinny*... (Cleveland screams and rushes out sobbing) Idle: Oh, sorry, Becky old beast. Chapman: Oh dear, I suppose she'll be gorn for a few days now. Idle: Caribou. Chapman: Splendid word! Idle: No, dear, nibbling the hoops. (Chapman fires a shotgun) Chapman (with satisfaction): Caribou -- gorn... 'Intercourse.' Idle: Later, dear. Chapman: No, no -- the word, 'intercourse'. Good and woody. 'Inter-course.' 'Pert,' 'pert,' 'thighs,' 'botty,' 'botty,' 'botty' (getting excited), 'erogenous zo-o-one'. Ha ha ha ha -- oh, 'concubine', 'erogenous zo-o-one', 'loose woman', 'erogenous zone'... (Idle calmly empties a bucket of water over Chapman) Chapman: Oh, thank you, dear. There's a funny thing, dear -- all the naughty words sound woody. Idle: Really, dear -- how about 'tit'? Chapman: Oh dear, I hadn't thought about that. 'Tit.' 'Tit.' Oh, that's very tinny, isn't it? 'Tit.' 'Tit.' Tinny, tinny. (Cleveland, who has just come in, screams and rushes out again) Chapman: Oh dear. 'Ocelot.' 'Was-p.' 'Yowling.' Oh dear, I'm bored. Better go and have a bath, I suppose. Idle: Oh really, must you, dear -- you've had nine today. Chapman: All right -- I'll sack one of the servants. Simpkins! Nasty tinny sort of name. SIMPKINS! (Enter Palin, in RAF uniform) Palin: I say, mater, cabbage crates coming over the briny. Idle: Sorry dear, don't understand. Palin: Er -- cow-catchers creeping up on the conning towers? Idle: No, sorry old sport. Palin: Um -- caribou nibbling at the croquet hoops. Idle: Yes, Mansfield shot one in the antlers.