Topic: The cheese shop sketch.
By Monty Python.
MOUSEBENDER:
Good Morning.
WENSLEYDALE:
Good morning, sir. Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium.
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah, thank you my good man.
WENSLEYDALE:
What can I do for you, sir?
MOUSEBENDER:
Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmond Street just now, skimming through Rogue Herries by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over all peckish.
WENSLEYDALE:
Peckish, sir?
MOUSEBENDER:
Esurient.
WENSLEYDALE:
Eh?
MOUSEBENDER:
(In a broad Yorkshire accent) Eee I were all hungry, like.
WENSLEYDALE:
Ah, hungry.
MOUSEBENDER:
In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, 'a little fermented curd will do the trick'. So I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles.
WENSLEYDALE:
Come again?
MOUSEBENDER:
I want to buy some cheese.
WENSLEYDALE:
Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bouzouki player.
MOUSEBENDER:
Oh, heaven forbid. I am one who delights in all manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse.
WENSLEYDALE:
Sorry?
MOUSEBENDER:
(In a broad Yorkshire accent) Ooo, I like a nice tune - you're forced to.
WENSLEYDALE:
So he can go on playing, can he?
MOUSEBENDER:
Most certainly. Now then, some cheese please, my good man.
WENSLEYDALE:
Certainly, sir. What would you like?
MOUSEBENDER:
Well, eh, how about a little Red Leicester?
WENSLEYDALE:
I'm afraid we're fresh out of Red Leicester, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Oh never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
WENSLEYDALE:
I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir. We get it fresh on Monday.
MOUSEBENDER:
Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly, if you please.
WENSLEYDALE:
Ah. It's been on order, sir, for two weeks. I was expecting it this morning.
MOUSEBENDER:
It's not my lucky day, is it? Er, Bel Paese?
WENSLEYDALE:
Sorry, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Red Windsor?
WENSLEYDALE:
Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah. Stilton?
WENSLEYDALE:
Sorry.
MOUSEBENDER:
Emmental? Gruyère?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Any Norwegian Jarlsberger, per chance?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Liptauer?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Lancashire?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
White Stilton?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Danish Blue?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Double Gloucester?
WENSLEYDALE:
..... No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Cheshire?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Dorset Blue Vinney?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Brie, Roquefort, Pont-l'Évêque, Port Salut, Savoyard, Saint-Paulin, Carre-de-L'Est, Bresse-Bleu, Boursin?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Camembert, perhaps?
WENSLEYDALE:
Ah! We have Camembert, yes sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
You do! Excellent.
WENSLEYDALE:
Yes, sir. It's, ah ..... it's a bit runny.
MOUSEBENDER:
Oh, I like it runny.
WENSLEYDALE:
Well, it's very runny, actually, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
No matter. Fetch hither le fromage de la Belle France! M-mmm!
WENSLEYDALE:
I think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
I don't care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over with all speed.
WENSLEYDALE:
Oh .....
MOUSEBENDER:
What now?
WENSLEYDALE:
The cat's eaten it.
MOUSEBENDER:
Has he?
WENSLEYDALE:
She, sir.
(pause)
MOUSEBENDER:
Gouda?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Edam?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Caithness?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Smoked Austrian?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Japanese Sage Darby?
WENSLEYDALE:
No, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
You do have some cheese, do you?
WENSLEYDALE:
Of course, sir. It's a cheese shop, sir. We've got .....
MOUSEBENDER:
No, no, don't tell me. I'm keen to guess.
WENSLEYDALE:
Fair enough.
MOUSEBENDER:
Er, Wensleydale?
WENSLEYDALE:
Yes?
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah, well, I'll have some of that.
WENSLEYDALE:
Oh, I thought you were talking to me, sir. Mr Wensleydale, that's my name.
(pause)
MOUSEBENDER:
Greek Feta?
WENSLEYDALE:
Ah, not as such.
MOUSEBENDER:
Er, Gorgonzola?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Parmesan?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Mozzarella?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Pippo Crème?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Danish Fimboe?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Czech sheep's milk?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?.
WENSLEYDALE:
Not today, sir, no.
(pause)
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah, how about Cheddar?
WENSLEYDALE:
Well, we don't get much call for it around here, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Not much ca- It's the single most popular cheese in the world!
WENSLEYDALE:
Not round here, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
And what is the most popular cheese round here?
WENSLEYDALE:
Ilchester, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Is it.
WENSLEYDALE:
Oh yes, sir. It's staggeringly popular in this manor, squire.
MOUSEBENDER:
Is it.
WENSLEYDALE:
It's our number-one best seller, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
I see. Ah, Ilchester, eh?
WENSLEYDALE:
Right, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
All right. Okay. Have you got any, he asked expecting the answer no?
WENSLEYDALE:
I'll have a look, sir ..... nnnnnnooooooooo.
MOUSEBENDER:
It's not much of a cheese shop, is it?
WENSLEYDALE:
Finest in the district, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
WENSLEYDALE:
Well, it's so clean, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
It's certainly uncontaminated by cheese.
WENSLEYDALE:
You haven't asked me about Limberger, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Is it worth it?
WENSLEYDALE:
Could be.
MOUSEBENDER:
Have you- SHUT THAT BLOODY BOUZOUKI UP!
WENSLEYDALE:
(To dancers) Told you so.
MOUSEBENDER:
Have you got any Limburger?
WENSLEYDALE:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
That figures. Predictable really, I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me:
WENSLEYDALE:
Yes, sir?
MOUSEBENDER:
Have you in fact got any cheese here at all?
WENSLEYDALE:
Yes, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Really?
(pause)
WENSLEYDALE:
No. Not really, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
You haven't.
WENSLEYDALE:
No, sir, not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your time, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Well, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shoot you.
WENSLEYDALE:
Right-O, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
(Shoots him) What a senseless waste of human life.