Sketchy Sketch

Been a while! Here’s another old one. I’m going to end up blogging the whole show if I can’t get my head around a new idea or two soon. Nevermind, busy times. Can you spot the blatant Monty Python rip off er… -ness? I’m not ashamed. Sound departments can do wonders with special effects I hear.


HISTORIAN: And now welcome to our series of historical shorts with me, Dr Monkchester Jones. Today’s lesson tackles The Wars of the Roses. A terrible civil war fought between 14:55 and an afternoon nap. It was a bloody time, a clash of white versus red, a land running pink with the sap of brother pitted against brother. Here we have some new-found actual, very rare, archive footage of the Battle of Northampton.

LEADER OF THE WHITE ROSES: (Majestically) Fellow saplings! Let not this bleak day shadow the importance of the hour. We are rooted here in Northampton, on the banks of the River Nene, and here we shall stay rooted. Some of you I have known since seedlings, like Young Spike here, struggling through the frozen ground and, like Young Spike, you have grown to great, great heights. Today, I will do my duty for the Kingdom of The White Roses and I ask you all to do your duty too. Not for me, but for your saplings and for your freedom! Band of Thorns, Brothers of Thorns we, together, will be victorious on this gray day. We all will share in the soils. For, I say to you my white warriors. We will fight them on the river side, we will fight them in the gardens, we will not be dead headed and we will never surrender!


LEADER OF THE RED ROSES: Oi! You ‘pure as white’ us red roses want you to get your roots out of our water.


LEADER OF THE WHITE ROSES: (ridiculously loud and high-pitched) Attack!!

Over the noise of fighting roses.

HISTORIAN: History tells us that it was the brave and mighty red roses that won this bloody war of shrubbery. As we can see from the archive footage, this is not entirely historically accurate.

Screams in the background over the fighting noises.

HISTORIAN (CONT’D): (to himself) Fighting roses indeed, what complete rubbish. What next?

Background noises and historian start to fade out.

HISTORIAN: (CONT’D) Bungy jumping petunias?

Sound of a bungy jumping petunia.

HISTORIAN (CONT’D): Hyperventilating Hydrangea?

Sound of hyperventilating.

HISTORIAN (CONT’D): Dogging daisies?

Sound of rhythmic squeaking.

HISTORIAN (CONT’D): Oh God. I’m living the nightmare.

Historian falls asleep. Sound of snoring.


(This one’s for Ibi – however she spells it – I believe it!)


MAN: Good morning!

TMB, C: How are you this fine day, Mr Kai Benn?

MAN: Very well, thank you. And you?

TMB, C: Good, thank you. Aren’t you forgetting something, though?

MAN: Forgetting something?

TMB, C: Yes, you’re talking to me, a bridge, so you must know the protocol and you do seem very polite…

MAN: Protocol? Ah, of course, I do apologise.

TMB, C: Oh good. I do like you Mr Kai Benn, I wouldn’t want to have to throw you off.

MAN: Of course, nobody wants that, The Bridge of Sighs.

TMB, C:  (shocked) Pardon?

MAN: I agreed with you about nobody wanting to see me thrown off the bridge and then I called you by your name.

TMB, C: (slightly confused) No, no. That’s not my name.

MAN: Yes it is.

TMB, C: (getting angrier) No, no it’s not.

MAN: You’re not going to start shaking, are you? I thought we agreed that no one wants to see me thrown off the bridge.

TMB, C: No one wants to see you thrown off the bridge BUT ONLY IF YOU KNOW MY FULL AND PROPER NAME!

MAN: Oh, my mistake, are you related to The Bridge of Sighs? You look very similar.

TMB, C: No, no I don’t think we’ve met properly, actually. I don’t get to travel much or at all, really. It’s a lonely life being a bri… WHAT IS MY NAME PUNY HUMAN?!

MAN: Oh, well sorry it must be The Mathematical Bridge, Cambridge then.

TMB, C: Yes, that’s right. I’m glad I didn’t have to drown you. YOU MAY PASS… Ahem… (mumbling) mustn’t get carried away. Not that anyone could carry a bridge anywhere very easily. Ha. Haha. Ahem.

*footsteps over bridge*

MAN: Thank you The Mathematical Bridge, Cambridge. Just one thing though.

TMB, C: Yes, what is it Mr Kai Benn?

MAN: Can you just spell that for me?

TMB, C: Sorry?

MAN: Can you just spell my name for me, please The Mathematical Bridge, Cambridge?

TMB, C: Oh, OK, well…. K. A. I.B.E.N.N

MAN: I didn’t think so.

*running footsteps*

MAN: (shouting from a distance) CLEAR!

TMB, C: Now, hang on…


MAN: C.A.I you pathetic, worthless piece of rubble and only one N. I didn’t choose it but I sure as hell have made good use of it. Job well done, eh Mr Policeman?

POLICEMAN: That’s PC Policeman to you and I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest you for blowing up a harmless bridge.

MAN: No, it’s Police Constable Robert Thomas Jenkins.

POLICEMAN: Oh, bugger.


The Tea Shop Sketch

A few days in to my blog I should introduce you to my sometime writing partner Matt Hutfield (@MrJackTheCohen) whom I wrote this sketch with (along with a radio sketch show pilot, which is currently in progress)…

Sound of customer entering door with bell.

Customer: Hello, I’d like to buy some tea please.

Shopkeep: Certainly, this is a shop that sells tea so you have come to the right place.  What kind of tea would you like?

Customer: (excited, licking lips) Well, what exotic teas have you got?

Shopkeep: Oooo, what have I got…? Well, I’ve got (quickly so as the audience don’t really hear what’s being said) Ceylon Tea, Blue Lady Tea, Autumn Tea, Phosphorous Tea, Monkey-brain Tea, Hairy Genital Tea, Fusion Tea, Spectacles Tea, Curry Tea, Caesar Tea, Julius Caesar  Tea, Asian Tea, Caucasian Tea, Leiderhosen tean, Blackadder Yea, Party Bongo Tea, Caramel Tea, Self-righteous Opinion Tea (slower) and Apple and Mango (pause to breathe) Tea.

Customer: Oh my word! I don’t know. Can I try some?

Shopkeep: Of course. Follow me/ If you’d care to enter the back passage.

Customer: Oh er.

Shopkeep: Don’t be stupid.

Sound of customer and shopkeep walking away into the back passage.

Shopkeep: As you can see, my friend, we only use the finest tea creatures to make out tea.

Customer: Friend? What? Tea Creatures?

Shopkeep: Teaurns. A newly imported breed from Innermost Outer Mongolia. All the latest features. And they’re all here to make our range of fabulous teas. YOU! Fetch me the kettle.No… WAIT!! Fetch me the Special Kettle, it is for our guest.

You: Oh, yes Sir, yes Sir! The Special Kettle. You’s, line up! You One and You Two (short burst of a U2 song), we’ve no time for that,  quick help me with preparing the Special Kettle for Master.

Shopkeep: Right, follow me please., We can’t taste the tea here. We need to move over to The Tea Party Table. Mhm- yes. That’s it, just wedge yourself in.

(sound of grunting and a few mumbled apologies)

Shopkeep: And here’s your hat, I’d advise you put it on quickly, those invisible flying Marmadukes can bike like there’s no tomorrow.

Customer: (confused) I’m sorry? OWCH!

Shopkeep: No need to apologise and I did warn you.

Customer: Look thanks, but-

Shopkeep: No, no need to thank me either. This is all necessary for The Tasting of The Tea.

Customer: But I just wanted to try a….

Shopkeep: And that is what shall occur, my dear! Ah, You, the Special Kettle, thank you very much.

Customer: Blimey, that’s a bit of a fancy kettle! I though you would  had the teas already made or something.

Shopkeep: (Horrified) OH NO! THIS is absolutely essential, yes esssssssssssential for those who practice the Art of Making Tea.

Customer: But, really, I mean, it’s just dried leaves infused in boiling water, occasionally with a splash of milk and sometimes sugar, isn’t it?

Shopkeep: (Angry) Dried leaves in boiling water, you say! Occasional splash of milk like it doesn’t matter. And sometime, ooooh, sometimes SUGAR?! I do hope you are testing me Satan! Each tea leaf, as you call it in your uneducated vernacular, is lovingly hand-crafted by a Teaurn individually. It is a long and laborious process which takes a certain skill and months to do. I myself have spent years perfecting the craft.

Customer: (Slightly Scared) Oh right, well can I just taste one then? One of your amazing teas that is.

Shopkeep: (Reluctantly) OK, here.

Sound of the customer sipping tea and then spitting it out disgusted.

Customer: EUUUUUUUUUUGGGH. My God that’s…

Shopkeep: Yes?

Customer: Erm, very nice but not quite what I was looking for.

Shopkeep: You mean you don’t like our wonderful Yak-Splurge tea? Hand-milked on the western slopes of Virginia, don’tchaknow?

Customer: Hand-milked? Un, no, not really, no. Maybe I’ll just go with the apple and mango tea.

Shopkeep: If you must. Here.

Sound of the customer sipping.

Customer: Yuck! That’s not apple and mango. That’, OH GOD. (Gags) What IS that?

Shopkeep: Apple and mange tea. Oh wait, sorry no that’s, my mistake. That was Forgotten Trouser Tea. Try these three.

Customer: Look, thank you, but…..

Shopkeep: I said there’s really no need to thank me.

Customer: OK… (frustrated) Don’t you just have ordinary tea?

Silence. Background noise stops abruptly.

Shopkeep: Ordinary tea?! AS YOU WERE TEAURNS!

Background noise starts up again slowly.

Shopkeep: (sniffs snootily) No, I’m afraid we do not.

Customer: Oh…. Oh well, I think I might have changed my mind… erm… thank, I mean, maybe I’ll pop next door for some coffee instead.

Shopkeep: Coffee?! YOU, YOU ONE and YOU TWO, STOP SINGING and take this… this (with venom) Coffee Lover away to The Boiling Room.

Customer: What? What…. get off me. How can you life me up like that? You’re only three feet tall! Get you purple fingers off me! Wait stop…. PUT ME DOWN!!!

Customer is dragged away with sounds of screaming and shouting.

Infinite change

On Train. Day.

Conductor: Tickets please.

Man: I’d like to buy a ticket to Infinity, please.

Conductor: What?

Man: A ticket to Infinity, please.

Conductor: Are you having a laugh?

Man (seriously): No.

Conductor: Right, we don’t go there.

Man: Yes you do, it says here on this leaflet. Trains to Infinity and Beyond.

Conductor: That’s not our leaflet.

Man: Yes it is, that’s your logo.

Conductor: (pearing closely at the leaflet) Oh, yeah. So it is. (to Bob offstage) Bob! We go to Infinity? (noises, grumbling from offstage) Bob says he knows nothing about Infinity.

Man: Does that mean you aren’t stopping at Infinity then? Oh. That’s a shame, oh well, OK, ticket to Beyond then please.

Conductor: (firmly) We don’t go to Beyond.

Man: But it says on this leaflet that…

Conductor: Look I don’t know where you got the leaflet but we don’t go to Infinity or Beyond. Now where are you travelling to?

Man: I’ve told you. Perhaps you don’t know where I mean. Let me explain. You see that tree there? (points out of window)

Conductor: (looks out of window) No.

Man: Well, we’ve passed it now but it was on the Horizon. Look, quick see that house?

Conductor: No.

Man: Right, OK. Over there, see that woman with the ill fitting wig and hideously bright lipstick?

Conductor: No, wait, her? That’s my wife!

Man: Well, she looks lovely. I’m using her to demonstrate where Infinity and possibly Beyond are actually situated. Relatively I mean. Now, listen…

Conductor: No, you listen. Don’t you be using my wife in explanations of such things. Relative or not. Now, buy a ticket or get off the train.

Man: Can I request a stop?

Conductor: No!

Bob: (from offstage) Yes, he can.

Conductor: Can he?

Bob: (noise that sounds like an affirmative grunt)

Conductor: You sure Bob?

Bob: (LOTS of grumbling now and incomprehensible shouting)

Conductor: Bob says yes.

Man: How much to Infinity please?

Conductor: Erm… (looking at ticket machine and doing some calculations) 4.2 quattuordecillion pounds

Man: Do you take credit card?

Conductor: Yes we do. (takes card and inserts into machine)


My first sketch

Both on this new blog and ever. I’m still ridiculously proud of it. So, where better to start…

Mr Paddock is on a landline phone to a company (Enterprise Solutions) trying to order something over the phone.

Customer Service (CS): Good morning, thank you for calling Enterprise Solutions. May I take your name please?

Mr Paddock (Mr P): Yes, it’s Paddock.

Customer Service: Is that Miss, Ms, Mrs? 

Mr P: Mr!

CS: Right, Mr Haddock, how can I help you?

Mr Paddock: No, Paddock, with a P.

CS: Mr Paddick

Mr P: No, Mr Padd-OCK

CS: Sorry, Mr Padlock

Mr P: No, No L, Paddock.

CS: That’s a nasty stammer you have there, Sir. Noel Padlock. May I call you Noel?

Mr P: What? I don’t have a stammer… And No you can’t! That is not my name! Listen. Let me spell it for you… (slowly) P A Double D O C K.

CS: Right, P E

Mr P: No, No P A, A

CS: P A.. A? I thought you said you didn’t have a stammer.

Mr P: I don’t! P A Double D

CS: P A Double B oh Pabbock! Mr Noel Pabbock.

MR P: No, No, D.

CS: Dabbock?

Mr P: No, now look…

CS: ….. Noel …. Badcock?

Mr P: LISTEN TO ME! My name is by the by, I would just like to talk to someone in Sales please.

CS: Bytheby? I thought you said your name began with a P?

Mr P: No! Just put me through to the sales department! Please!

CS: Your name doesn’t begin with a P?

Mr P: (very angry, reacts) I, I…  

CS: Sir, there’s no need to get angry. Please calm down. Let’s try again. Your name?

Mr P: Right, (very slowly) Pad…dock…

CS: OK, Mr Paddock

Mr P: (relieved) YES!

CS: And which department would you like to speak to?

Mr P: Sales

CS: I’m sorry.

Mr P: Sales, please.

CS: I didn’t quite hear that…did you say Wales?


CS: But you’re talking to customer services. In India.

Mr P : Yes and I’d like to talk to sales, PLEASE. (pause) Hang on, how much is this costing me?!

CS: (Slowly) This is services.

Mr P: No No No No No I want SALES!!

CS: OK calm down please Mr Bytheby.


Mr P gets so angry he smashes the phone. (some good acting needed here to pad out)

Mr P: Fine!

Mr P looks at phone, breathes, gets mobile phone out of his pocket and dials.

Customer service 2 (the same man with a different accent): Hello customer services.

Mr P: Hello, yes I’d like to order a new phone please.

CS2: Yes of course, may I just take your name?

Mr P: Yes, my name? ……….Smith.

CS2: And is that spelt with a y or… ?

Mr P throws the phone over his shoulder and storms off stage.