What's your favorite Monty Python sketch?

The Ministry of Silly Walks gets me every time. :D

"you get . . . an M-5 motorway."

or the mockumentary when they went to the house in wainscotting.

LOL

I mean, I keep falling off!"

Mollusks?

Oh, I thought you said bacon!

I'm not sure why I like that one so much.
The argument sketch is also a favorite. "This isn't an argument, this is just contradiction!"

oh and How Not To Be Seen! I love that one. How can you pick just one?

say no more, say no more. Um, your old lady sir, is she a goer? Does she get around? Know what I mean, know what I mean..."

My first and still my favorite sketch. It helped that the two people I saw it with had absolutely no reaction and sat there stony-faced while I was rolling on the floor.

When they try to remove the bra off the dummy I ROFL everytime I see it.

That entire sketch busts me up. I think it's the most underrated skit of the series.

Jumping over matchbooks. Slamming a car door to wake up a neighbor. Then they cap it by showing the coffins in gold, silver and bronze position.

The classic sketches have already been mentioned in this thread. But so many other obscure ones kill me:

* The boxer who is plagued by the tiny particle of brain lodged in his skull

* The Russian firing squad that keeps misfiring; "Next time, definitely!"

* Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson

* "Dirty rotten Belgian bastards!"

What a great twit!

I don't care how fucking runny it is....

I love that one...and the argument clinic.

especially the part where he buys a newspaper from the girl behind the counter :P

:-)

... lumberjacks, the dead parrot sketch, cut-rate airlines, the upper-class olympics... all very funny.

n/t

Also, The Spanish Inquisition.

I woulda thought it would be the Whizzo chocolates sketch. :D

"My nipples explode with delight!"

bouncy bouncy?" "Eef I told you you had a beautiful body would you hold eet against me?" "I am no longer infected."

"Dead Parrot" and "Crunchy Frog." :D

forgot about those two.

Burglar/Encyclopedia Salesman was a hoot too, as well as the Fish Slapping Dance.

:hi:

Pope: Look!! the Last Supper is a significant event in the life
of Our Lord. The Penultimate Supper was not ... even
if they had a conjurer and a steel band. Now
commissioned a Last Supper from you, and a Last
Supper I want!

Michelangelo: Yes, but look ...

Pope: With twelve disciples and one Christ!

Michelangelo: ... ONE !?!

Pope: Yes - one!

(Michelangelo is momentarily speechless.)

Pope: Now will you please tell me what in God's name
possessed you to paint this with three Christs in it?

Michelangelo: It works, mate!!

Pope: It does not work!

Michelangelo: It does, it looks great! The fat one balances the
two skinny ones!

Pope: (brooking no argument) There was only one Saviour ...

Michelangelo: I know that, everyone knows that, but what about a
bit of artistic licence?

Pope: (bellowing) One Redeemer!!

Michelangelo: (shouting back) I'll tell you what you want, mate ...
you want a bloody photographer, not a creative artist with
some imagination!!

Pope: I'll tell you what I want - I want a Last Supper, with one
Christ, twelve disciples, no kangaroos, by Thursday
lunch, or you don't get paid!!

Michelangelo: You bloody fascist!!

And the Dinsdale brothers....

One of the best.

man 1: "my dog has no nose."

man 2: "how does he smell?"

man 1: "awful."

the larch.


i discovered the painting that the foot is from. if only i had taken note of the title and artist.

Or the Mr. Hilter sketch.

lol lol

Man: What!

Mr. Barnard: Shut your festering gob you tit! Your type makes me puke! You vacuous toffee-nosed malodorous pervert!

Man: Look! I came here for an argument.

Mr. Barnard: (calmly) Oh! I'm sorry, this is abuse.

Man: Oh I see, that explains it.

Mr. Barnard: No, you want room 12A next door.

Man: I see - sorry. (exits)

Mr. Barnard: Not at all. (as he goes) Stupid git.

too funny

and the Ministry of Silly Walks. I roll over every time I see it.

I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night. I work all day.

Mounties : He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.


Mounties: He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea.

Chorus : I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.

Mounties : He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!

Chorus : I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa.


Mounties : He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!

Chorus : I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

Yes, I'm a lumberjack, and I'm ok-a-y.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

Gonna take my 19-year-old daughter, who knows "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" better than I do!

silly walks, killer joke, lumberjack song, father's been turned into a blanc mange, Spanish Inquisition, Hell's Grannys, The Walker Brigade, Philosopher's drinking Song, Philosopher's football, Spam and a couple of obscurish ones I think-Deja Vu and The Hilters.

not to mention;
"Been shoppin?"
no, Ive ben shoppin.
"What'd you buy then?"
A PISTON ENGINE!
"how do you cook it?"
YOU DONT COOK IT!

YOU CANT EAT THAT RAW!

"And now a man with a tape recorder up his nose"

And of course, one of my all time faves;

City Gent: Good afternoon.

Rustic: Afternoon.

City Gent: A lovely day isn't it.

Rustic: Eh, 'tis that.

City Gent: You here on holiday or...?

Rustic: Nope, I live 'ere.

City Gent: Oh, jolly good too. (surveys field; he looks puzzled) I say, those are sheep aren't they?

Rustic: Ar.

City: Gent Yes, yes of course, I thought so...only...er why are they up in the trees?

Rustic: A fair question and one that in recent weeks has been much on my mind. It's my considered opinion that they're nesting.

City Gent: Nesting?

Rustic: Ar.

City Gent: Like birds?

Rustic: Ar. Exactly. Birds is the key to the whole problem. It's my belief that these sheep are laborin' under the misapprehension that they're birds. Observe their behavior. Take for a start the sheep’s' tendency to 'op about the field on their back legs. (off-screen baa-ing) Now witness their attempts to fly from tree to tree. Notice that they do not so much fly as...plummet. (sound of sheep plummeting) Observe for example that ewe in that oak tree. She is clearly trying to teach her lamb to fly. (baaaaaa...thump) Talk about the blind leading the blind.

City Gent: But why do they think they're birds?

Rustic: Another fair question. One thing is for sure; a sheep is not a creature of the air. They have enormous difficulty in the comparatively simple act of perchin'. (crash) As you see. As for flight, its body is totally unadapted to the problems of aviation. Trouble is, sheep are very dim. Once they get an idea in their heads, there's no shifting it.

City Gent: But where did they get the idea from?

Rustic: From Harold. He's that sheep there over under the elm. He's that most dangerous of animals, a clever sheep. He's the ring-leader. He has realized that a sheep's life consists of standing around for a few months and then being eaten. And that's a depressing prospect for an ambitious sheep. He's patently hit on the idea of escape.

City Gent: Well why don't you just get rid of Harold?

Rustic: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities should he succeed.

Voice Over: And what exactly are the commercial possibilities of ovine aviation?

from http://www.pythonland.com/

In the mid 70's i lived in Australia and saw Mp'sFC before it hit the airwaves in this country. When we came back i told the few kids i knew about it and soon enough PBS began to run the series. When "The Holy Grail" came out in the theatres, my brother and i went to see it knowing what to expect but, i think most of the audience had NO IDEA what they were in for. As soon as the titles started my brother and i started giggling because we KNEW something silly was going to happen. And it did: the Swedish sub-titles. (WI NOT TREI A HOLIDEI IN SVEDEN THIS YAR?) People in the rows ahead of us were turning to look at the two annoying, giggling teenagers laughing behind them and wondering what was so funny. It soon dawned on them and the rest of the country that Monty Python was not something they were used to and had to be sure to pay attention.


We had to go back to see the movie 3 more times JUST to get all the dialogue because the laughter was so loud you couldnt hear it.

That opening of Holy Grail was too much. And every single scene of that movie is hilarious. Truly one of the greatest parody movies of all time.

i really cant choose a FAVORITE. i mean, argument clinic, dead parrot sketch, spanish inquisition, the lumberjack song, the list goes on and on

:hippie: The Incorrigible Democrat

England, 1747

(Sounds of a coach and horses, galloping)

Cleese: Stand and deliver!
Chapman: Not on your life (SHOT) ... aagh!

(Girl screams)

Cl: Let that be a warning to you all. You move at your peril, for I have two
pistols here. I know one of them isn't loaded any more, but the other one
is, so that's one of you dead for sure...or just about for sure anyway. It
certainly wouldn't be worth your while risking it because I'm a very good
shot. I practise every day...well, not absolutely every day, but most days
in the week. I expect I must practise, oh, at least four or five times a
week...or more, really, but some weekends, like last weekend, there really
wasn't the time, so that brings the average down a bit. I should say it's
a solid four days' practice a week...At least...I mean...I reckon I could
hit that tree over there. Er...the one just behind that hillock. The
little hillock, not the big one on the...you see the three trees over
there? Well, the one furthest away on the right... (fade)


Cl: What's the... the one like that with the leaves that are sort of
regularly veined and the veins go right out with a sort of um...
Girl: Serrated?
Cl: Serrated edges.
Id: A willow!
Cl: Yes.
Id: That's nothing like a willow.
Cl: Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven times out of ten,
that's the point.
Id: Never a willow.
Cl: Shut up! It's a hold-up, not a Botany lesson. Now, no false moves
please. I want you to hand over all the lupins you've got.
Jones: Lupins?
Cl: Yes, lupins. Come on, come on.
Id: What do you mean, lupins?
Cl: Don't try to play for time.
Id: I'm not, but... the *flower* lupin?
Cl: Yes, that's right.
Jo: Well we haven't got any lupins.
Girl: Honestly.
Cl: Look, my friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express.
Jo: Damn!
Girl: Oh, here you are.
Cl: In a bunch, in a bunch!
Jo: Sorry.
Cl: Come on, Concorde! (Gallops off)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, Galloping through the sward,
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, And his horse Concorde,
He steals from the rich, and gives to the poor,
Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore.

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, riding through the night
Soon every lupin in the land will be in his mighty hand
He steals them from the rich, and gives them to the poor
Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, dum-dum-dum, de-di
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, dum, dum-dum-dum-di
He steals, dum-dum-dum, and dum, dum-dum-dum
Dennis-Dummm, Dennis-Deee, Dum-dum-dummmm

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, riding through the woods
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, with a bag of things
He gives to the poor, and he takes from the rich..
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore.

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, riding through the land,
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, without a merry band,
He steals from the poor and gives to the rich,
Stupid bitch.

>>Dennis Moore reins to a sudden halt and rides over to the camera.<<

MOORE: What did you sing?
SINGERS: We sang... he steals from the poor and gives to the rich.
MOORE: Wait a tic... blimey, this redistribution of wealth is trickier
than I thought.

and the Aussie University with the Bruces
the bishop
upper class twits

I couldnt list them all

followed by Why is it that the world never remembered the name of Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern- schplenden- schlitter- crasscrenbon- fried- digger- dingle- dangle- dongle- dungle- burstein- von- knacker- thrasher- apple- banger- horowitz- ticolensic- grander- knotty- spelltinkle- grandlich- grumblemeyer- spelterwasser- kurstlich- himbleeisen- bahnwagen- gutenabend- bitte- ein- nürnburger- bratwustle- gerspurten- mitz- weimache- luber- hundsfut- gumberaber- shönedanker- kalbsfleisch- mittler- aucher von Hautkopft of Ulm?

That skit is hysterical. And John Cleese and Eric Idle dressed up as Frenchmen with the picture of the sheep, I don't know what that one was called.

Brilliant!

:puke:

nt

you silly bunt!

...another tourist carted around in buses surrounded by sweaty mindless oafs from Kettering and Coventry in their cloth caps and their cardigans and their transistor radios and their Sunday Mirrors, complaining about the tea - "Oh they don't make it properly here, do they, not like at home" - and stopping at Majorcan bodegas selling fish and chips and Watney's Red Barrel and calamares and two veg and sitting in their cotton frocks squirting Timothy White's suncream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh 'cos they "overdid it on the first day."

Bounder: (agreeing patiently) Yes absolutely, yes I quite agree...

Tourist: And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and Bellvueses and Bontinentales with their modern international luxury roomettes and draught Red Barrel and swimming pools full of fat German businessmen pretending they're acrobats forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging into queues and if you're not at your table spot on seven you miss the bowl of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of International Cuisine, and every Thursday night the hotel has a bloody cabaret in the bar, featuring a tiny emaciated dago with nine-inch hips and some bloated fat tart with her hair brylcreemed down and a big arse presenting Flamenco for Foreigners.

Bounder: (beggining to get fed up) Yes, yes now......

Tourist: And then some adenoidal typists from Birmingham with flabby white legs and diarrhoea trying to pick up hairy bandy-legged wop waiters called Manuel and once a week there's an excursion to the local Roman Remains to buy cherryade and melted ice cream and bleeding Watney's Red Barrel and one evening you visit the so called typical restaurant with local colour and atmosphere and you sit next to a party from Rhyl who keep singing "Torremolinos, torremolinos" and complaining about the food - "It's so greasy isn't it?" - and you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an Instamatic camera and Dr. Scholl sandals and last Tuesday's Daily Express and he drones on and on about how Mr. Smith should be running this country and how many languages Enoch Pow ell can speak and then he throws up over the Cuba Libres.

Bounder: Will you be quiet please

Tourist: And sending tinted postcards of places they don't realise they haven't even visited to "All at number 22, weather wonderful, our room is marked with an 'X'.

Bounder: Shut up

Tourist: Food very greasy but we've found a charming little local place hidden away in the back streets

Bounder: Shut up!

Tourist: where they serve Watney's Red Barrel and cheese and onion.......

Bounder: Shut up your bloody gob....

Tourist: crisps and the accordionist plays 'Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner'." And spending four days on the tarmac at Luton airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but dried BEA-type sandwiches and you can't even get a drink of Watney's Red Barrel because you're still in England and the bloody bar closes every time you're thirsty and there's nowhere to sleep and the kids are crying and vomiting and breaking the plastic ash-trays and they keep telling you it'll only be another hour although your plane is still in Iceland and has to take some Swedes to Yugoslavia before it can load you up at 3 a.m. in the bloody morning and you sit on the tarmac till six because of "unforeseen difficulties", i.e. the permanent strike of Air Traffic Control in Paris - and nobody can go to the lavatory until you take off at 8, and when you get to Malaga airport everybody's swallowing "enterovioform" and queuing for the toilets and queuing for the armed customs officers, and queuing for the bloody bus that isn't there to take you to the hotel that hasn't yet been finished. And when you finally get to the half-built Algerian ruin called the Hotel del Sol by paying half your holiday money to a licensed bandit in a taxi you find there's no water in the pool, there's no water in the taps, there's no water in the bog and there's only a bleeding lizard in the bidet. And half the rooms are double booked and you can't sleep anyway because of the permanent twenty-four-hour drilling of the foundations of the hotel next door - and you're plagues by appalling apprentice chemists from Ealing pretending to be hippies, and middle-class stockbrokers' wives busily buying identical holiday villas in suburban development plots just like Esher, in case the Labour government gets in again, and fat American matrons with sloppy-buttocks and Hawaiian-patterned ski pants looking for any mulatto male who can keep it up long enough when they finally let it all flop out. And the Spanish Tourist Board promises you that the raging cholera epidemic is merely a case of mild Spanish tummy, like the previous outbreak of Spanish tummy in 1660 which killed half London and decimated Europe - and meanwhile the bloody Guardia are busy arresting sixteen-year-olds for kissing in the streets and shooting anyone under nineteen who doesn't like Franco. And then on the last day in the airport lounge everyone's comparing sunburns, drinking Nasty Spumante, buying cartons of duty free "cigarillos" and using up their last pesetas on horrid dolls in Spanish National costume and awful straw donkeys and bullfight posters with your name on "Ordoney, El Cordobes and Brian Pules of Norwich" and 3-D pictures of the Pope and Kennedy and Franco, and everybody's talking about coming again next year and you swear you never will although there you are tumbling bleary-eyed out of a tourist-tight antique Iberian airplane...



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2. The heavyweight boxing match between Kent "Clean Air" System and a schoolgirl

3. Science Fiction Sketch (When Blancmange's from outer space try to win Wimbeldon by turning everyone into Scotsman, who are the worst tennis players on Earth)

4. Mr. Neutron

5. Four Yorkshiremen (I used to get up every morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, eat a lump of dry poison, work 125 hours a day down mill for 476 years and when we got home our parents would kill us and dance about on our graves singling halellouha)

it was a sketch they only did in their stage how. Hilarious, no doubt, but lets be historically correct here!
"We used to live in a paper bag in a septic tank and every morning we got woken up by havin' a load of rottin' fish dumped all over us"


"our dad would come home at night and slice us in two wit' bread knife"............
.........
..................... "Luxury"


too fucking funny

so, the Four Yorkshiremen stands. It was simply, "what is your favorite M. Python sketch..."

Four Yorkshiremen is a sketch, it's also one of my favorites. The first time I ever heard it, I think, was on BBC Records The Worst of Monty Python... Either that or Live at City Center. I can't remember. At one time I had all of their audio released on cassette tapes.

:P

For the afternoon crowd. And now, off to class! :D

"See how he uses a spanner to tighten that nut!"

I was amused but they were really laughing.

http://www.intriguing.com/mp/_video/fish.avi

"science fiction sketch"

and the Travel Agency skit

Father: Mr Shabby... I just want to make sure that you'll be able to look after my daughter...

Shabby: Oh, yeah, yeah. I'll be able to look after 'er all right sport, eh, know what I mean, eh emmgh!

Father: And, er, what job do you do?

Shabby: I clean out public lavatories.

Father: Is there promotion involved?

Shabby: Oh, yeah, yeah. (coughs horribly into hankerchief) After five years they give me a brush...eurggha eurgh...I'm sorry squire, I've gobbed on your carpet.

Father: And, ah, where are you going to live?

Shabby: Well, round at my gran's...she trains polecats, but most of them have suffocated so there should be a bit of spare room in the attic, eh. Know what I mean. Oooh!

Father: And when do you expect to get married?

Shabby: Oh, right away spot. Right away...you know...I haven't had it for weeks...

"After five years *hack hack hack* they give you a brush!"

:toast:

Hell, anything that features Palin.

Voice Over: Mr. E.V. Lambert of Homeleigh, The Burrows, Oswestly, has presented us with a poser. We do not know which bush he is behind, but we can soon find out.

(the left-hand bush explodes, then the right-hand bush explodes, and then the middle bush explodes. There is a muffled scream as Mr. Lambert is blown up)

Voice Over: Yes it was the middle one.

planned with his wife..don't know the name of it, but before it is over they have a room full of marvelously obnoxious people.

and of course the usual suspects:
parrot sketch
cheese shop
Dennis Moore
Silly Walks
Lumberjack
Argument Clinic
and.....


SPAM

That one? :thumbsup:

yeah, I think an animal or two was part of that invasion!

The Monty Python Full DVD set is probably one of the best things I have ever bought. But as someone said eariler, how can you pick just ONE?

It was played as a call-in TV show. They'd show a scene and some guy and a fright wig would walk out. Then they ended up with a production Ivanhoe featuring a man dressed as a carrot and man rolling out a side of beef in a hospital waiting room. The carrot was saying "Polly wanna a cracker!"
Classic.

and I believe he was collecting her liver

"But I'm not done using it yet!"

"Find the Fish"
Terry Jones with extended arms saying, "Where is the fish? That fishy fish. Is it on the floor or is it in a drawer? Oh that fish that fishy fish!"
And Graham Chapman in drag, saying, "Where's the fish?"

Cheese Shop
Argument Clinic
Pet Shop
Lumberjack Song
String
Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition
Wink Wink, Nudge Nudge

...and others I can't think of right now

Didn't get it till i'd given birth but it is so damn on the money it's HILARIOUS.

I'm also rather fond of the lumberjack song. I always wanted the Three Tenors or the Three Irish Tenors or Bryn Terfel to perform that as an encore. I'll bet Terfel would oblige.

:D

so dangerous that it can't be told all at once

"Noice army base you got here, Colonel. Be a shame if anything happened to it."

"But the police have photographs of him nailing your head to the coffee table."

That bit always cracks me up.

The one with Eric Idle getting all teary and introducing David Niven's fridge. That's a good one. I also really like the Spanish Armada/Dirty Books one, "'tis one of Shakespeare's. Gay Boys in Bondage".

I keep remembering more that I really like.:D

don't think I saw it on the list above. but dead parrot my all time favorite.