|ANNOUNCER: This is the BBC Home Service.
'It's That Man Again!'
It's that man again,
Yes, that man again,
Yes sir, Tommy Handley is here.
You know the guy
He plays 'I spy'
With Furtive Funf -
Here's mud in his eye.
Mother's pride and joy
Mrs Handley's boy,
Oh, it's useless to complain -
When trouble's brewing, it's his doing,
That man, that man again.
HANDLEY: Hello folks. 'It's That Man Again' and what a
man. My name today is on the tip of everyone's tongue and
the toe of everyone's boot. Why, I can't go out in the open
these days without people shouting 'Heil Itma'! Some say 'Good
old Itma' and others, 'There goes the old blast-furnace' or
words to that effect. I have been evacuated now for three
weeks - three weeks of high jinks and low pranks. We've been
very busy in the Office of Twerps though - making out official
forms and scribbling all over them, issuing orders one day
and cancelling them the next. And the things we've written
on the walls! Talk about one rood, pole or perch! My female
staff have been extremely busy knitting me a pair of the most
gorgeous galoshes you ever saw and now they're working on
a surprise they're going to give me at Christmas - a shockproof
waterproof and under-proof Funf-protector. There's been no
sign or sound of Funf during the week and I must admit that
I'm seriously concerned when I fail to hear from him - especially
at night. That's when I suffer badly from Funf-starvation.
My band has also improved since they've been put out to grass
so I'll just let them sow a few wild notes just to prove it.
What are you going to play, boys?
BAND: 'Apple for the Teacher'.
HANDLEY: 'Apple for the Teacher'. Who's singing it?
BAND: June Malo.
HANDLEY: June Malo - right, take a bite, June, and save
me the chorus.
MALO & BAND 'APPLE FOR THE TEACHER'
HANDLEY: Now let me see - what's been laid on my desk
this morning. A duck egg, two dicarbicated cotton cow-cakes
and a blue paper tied with red tape. I wonder what it can
be? Ah - the plans of my secret broadcasting station. I must
sit down to consider them.
Denham: (dog yelping)
HANDLEY: Well muzzle mastaff that dog of mine in my chair
again. Here, Isosceles. I'm the only one that's allowed to
sleep in that chair.
Denham: (as dog) Funf to you.
HANDLEY: Go and take your tail for a ta-ta. Now, I must
examine these plans ....
HAMMERING THROUGH WALL
HANDLEY: Nice quiet place this.
HANDLEY: Hello - what do you want? Oh - you're the man
who's come to lay the telephone on.
(Jack Train) Oomph.
HANDLEY: Well get on with it. How long is it going to
HANDLEY: Can't you do it any quicker?
MAN: Oomph - oomph.
HANDLEY: Nice chatty little fellow, isn't he?
HANDLEY: Make less noise there. I must have peace to consider
HANDLEY: Ah, good morning, Fusspot. Any letters this morning?
FUSSPOT: (Jack Train) Only one from my wife, sir.
HANDLEY: Your wife? Isn't she speaking to you?
FUSSPOT: Oh sir, it's most enjoyable, most enjoyable ...
HANDLEY: What is? Living with Mrs Fusspot? I'd rather
eat iron filings.
FUSSPOT: No, it's not that, sir. (laughs) She's left me!
HANDLEY: Well I'll sleep in my singlet! Left you?
FUSSPOT: (laughing) Yes,sir, isn't it awful? She's gone back to London
in a huff, sir.
HANDLEY: In a huff? Couldn't she get a cab?
FUSSPOT: She says in her letter that you're a - you're a - (laughs)
HANDLEY: I'm a what?
FUSSPOT: You're a snake in the grass, sir.
HANDLEY: As long as she doesn't say I'm a toad in the
hole, I'm all right.
TRAMP OF FEET
HANDLEY: Here, get off my desk - you telephone tapper.
And take your feet out of my inkwell.
FUSSPOT: She says you're a Jack-in-office, sir, and a ....
HANDLEY: Puss-in-boots and a pig-in-a-poke.
FUSSPOT: She's a wonderful woman, sir. She's far too good for me.
HANDLEY: She frightened the life out of me.
HANDLEY: Now look what that automatic assassin's done.
He's knocked over my aquarium and trod on my tiddlers. Can't
you look where you're going?
HANDLEY: I think he's hollow. Well Fusspot, you've got
your freedom at last but don't get fresh with the fillies.
FUSSPOT: I'll miss my Tou-Tou, sir - she's far too good for me.
HANDLEY: Well don't bring her back here - we've got all
the wild animals we want on this farm. Send in Vodkin, will
you? I must consider these plans. Now let me see - yes - the
cow shed makes a grand studio and what a canteen! Ten times
as big as any other room in the building.
KNOCK AT DOOR
HANDLEY: Come in!
LOUD MOOING OF COWS
JOLLOP: (Jack Train): Git on there, Strawberry. Git on
Gladys. Eech-oop there, git on ....
MOOING STILL LOUDER
HANDLEY: Here, take those cows out of my office. Who sent
them in here?
JOLLOP: This be only way to pasture now, zur, since they're using
cow shed for that danged wireless.
TOMMY HANDLEY: Do you mean to say that every time they're
milked they'll come through my office?
JOLLOP: This be only way, zur.
HANDLEY: Well I'll be bunkered in the bulrushes! Here
am I - the Minister of Aggravation with an office full of
JOLLOP: I'll soon clear 'em out, zur. Ech up Daphne - eel up there.
LOUD MOOING UNTIL DOOR CLOSES
HANDLEY: Nice quiet place this. (girls whoop in)
We're so lonely, Mr Itma - (singing)
We ain't nobody's darlings
We are sad as can be
For we ain't got nobody
To make a fuss over we.
HANDLEY: Er - well - I'm not doing anything after closing
time. Any questions?
THREE: (the trio sings an adapted version of 'How D ya
Like to Love Me?' with an occasional response from Tommy until
the sequence ends with -)
... We've asked old Tickle and Jollop to see what they would
Then when Funf answered We fainted away.
How d'ya like to love us and no others -
HANDLEY: Where do ye get - these trousers, They your brothers'?
THREE: How d'ya like your toothbrush a-hanging right alongside
ours - How d'ya like it?
HANDLEY: I'd rather have a bottle of Persico.
THREE: Well, all right.
HANDLEY: Ah well - a big Government job like this has
its compensations. I'm not talking about you, Oomph. Is that
phone fixed yet?
HANDLEY: Well go home and phone me up to see if it works,
Oomph. I must look over these plans.
(Maurice Denham): Oh, Mr Handemedown. It works, it works!
HANDLEY: What does? Our broadcasting station?
VODKIN: No, the egg factory. It has exceeded all my cackle-ations.
HANDLEY: Tell me all about it, old cock.
VODKIN: Every hen she lay two times, once in the morning and once
HANDLEY: What, no matinees?
VODKIN: At night the hen she sleeps, yes?
VODKIN: I switch the light and up she wakes. The cock he crow - the
hen she lay. Then again she sleep. Again I switch the light
and again she lay. Now a million eggs I have.
HANDLEY: I wish I had as many shillings.
VODKIN: What are you going to do?
HANDLEY: I know - we'll sell 'em. Call 'em Itma eggs.
The yolk of the century. Is our radio station ready?
VODKIN: Oh yes, Mr Hamandegg.
HANDLEY: We'll get busy - we'll broadcast the Itma Egg
programme right away. Well, folks, the next part of the programme
comes to you by courtesy of the Itma Egg Factory - the eggs
with chick appeal.
(Maurice Denham): Allo. Ici Radio Twerpenburg. Defense
ANNOUNCER: The Itma All-In Egg Programme.
It's those eggs again
To put you on your legs again
Order 'em now.
And do not delay
Straight from the cow
They are fresh laid today.
It's those eggs again
The eggs that every grocer hates to sell -
So if you feel yeller and want a best smeller
Eat Itma and come right out of your shell.
ANNOUNCER: Good evening, everyone. Tonight the makers of Itma eggs -
they're oh so strong and ever so shapely - bring you an omelette
of 'armony with The Three Cacklers, Scrambled Sam the Double-yoked
Yodeller, and Tommy Henlaid - the high cockalorum of comedy
- accompanied by Billy BuffOrpington and his Fowl-Fiddlers.
HANDLEY: Hello, yolks - have you ever tried Itma eggs?
They're all singing, all humming, and all-bumen. The only
eggs that are all they're cracked up to be. You'll find the
maker's name stamped on the blunt end and countersigned by
the rooster on the sharp end. With every dozen we give away
a gas mask. Itma eggs can be whipped but they can't be beaten.
And now, Scrambled Sam will spread himself on a slice of toast.
When you've someone you hate in your household
And you don't know the best thing to do -
Itma eggs will solve the problem for you.
Just give him a large one for breakfast
Or better still, offer him two
Itma is the egg he'll never pooh-pooh.
When the egg he starts to crack
Retire outside the door
At once the fumes will knock him back
Unconscious on the floor.
Drag him out into the open
And he'll disappear from your view
Itma eggs have solved your problem for you.
HANDLEY: Now, folks, here's a charming letter from that
well-known provision firm, Grosser Insults Ltd., Coupon Corner.
'Friday. Dear Egg Ma - Itma, Re eggs for regatta. We took
the eggs to the party and nobody asked us to stay. So we took
them to the local theatre. A baritone was singing "Drake is
going west", so we threw some at him but he succeeded in dodging
them - are these duck eggs? Yours truly, T. Blender.
P.S. When my sugar walks down the street you can have a pound.'
Now, folks, I want you to meet my champion egg layer, Evelyn.
Say good Evelyn, Evelyn.
HANDLEY: How many eggs have you laid today, Evelyn?
Denham (more clucks)
HANDLEY: Good work. Where were you born, Evelyn?
HANDLEY: Oh, in an incubator? A self-laid hen, I see?
I suppose you haven't always been an egg layer?
HANDLEY: What were you before you became a hen?
HANDLEY: Well, fry me on both sides, you've been leading
a double life. Tell me, Evelyn, are you married?
Denham (indignant noises)
HANDLEY: Oh, I'm so sorry - I see your wedding ring round
your left leg. Well, I think you've done extremely well. So,
Evelyn, lay off for a week. Well, yolks - eat more Itma Eggs.
Itma, Itma, raw, raw, raw.
ANNOUNCER: Mesdames, messieurs, vous pouvez crack 'em. Cock grow.
DENHAM : And now Billy Ternent and his Syncubators are
going to play 'Down the Trail of Dreams' and Denny Dennis
'DOWN THE TRAIL OF DREAMS'
HANDLEY: Now I wonder if that phone's working yet. Hello?
Well, I'll flirt in a phone box - no answer. Here, Dotty,
I'll finish that jig-saw puzzle. You go down to the village
and phone me up.
DOTTY: (Vera Lennox): Okay, Mr Handmaid. Can Mr Fusspot go with me?
HANDLEY: What's that? I thought Fusspot was your bate
noir, whatever that means.
DOTTY: Oh, he's been ever so nice since his wife went away. He says
I'm his dream girl and his little lump of liquorice.
HANDLEY: The perishing old pontefract cake.
DOTTY: And he says I wake the gypsy in his soul.
HANDLEY: Well cross my palm with butter.
DOTTY: Yes, and he says he never knew what love meant till he met
HANDLEY: And him with fourteen little Fusspots. I'll have
to stop this. I'll hide his teeth, that's what I'll do. Send
DOTTY: Don't be hard on him, Mr Hambone.
HANDLEY: I'll deal with him. I know how to cure these
men when they're between the norty forties and the nifty fifties.
Now I must go and see how the Itma radio station's getting
on. Well - I'll plant a pansy in the pig sty. Will you look
at Mrs Tickle! Riding breeches and a bowler hat. Here, Tickle,
what's all this?
TICKLE: (Maurice Denham): Oh, Mr Itma - I've been taking
HANDLEY: I can't have my charwoman strutting round here
HANDLEY: What's that - the 'Unt? Nice goings on in a Government
Office, I must say. Lola, I'll lock you in the larder if I
have any more of this. And as for you, Jollop, back to the
barnyard. Did you ever see such a Disorderly Room.
HANDLEY: I wonder if there have been any phone calls.
(picks up phone) Hello, is anybody there? No? (replaces receiver)
Not a nibble.
HANDLEY: Ah, Fusspot - you're just the man I want. We've
got to get more publicity for Itma - start a big campaign.
FUSSPOT: Not a moment too soon, sir. There have been more questions
in Parliament about you, sir.
HANDLEY: There'll be questions in the Police Gazette about
FUSSPOT: Me, sir?
HANDLEY: Yes, for making passes at my secretary. I've
heard of your amorous advances.
FUSSPOT: It's the tiger in me, sir. I always break out in the spring.
HANDLEY: You'd better try Persico. I know that in the
spring a young man's fancy - I mean a young fiancee - it isn't
spring anyhow - it's winter.
FUSSPOT: Ah, sir, when winter comes ....
HANDLEY: You wilt in your woollies. Now keep your mind
on your memos. The first shot in my publicity campaign will
be on the air - tonight. So get busy.
HANDLEY: What is it, Vodkin?
VODKIN: All is ready, sir. Your radio station - she will wipe the
noise of the BBC right off the air. I put this loud spikker
on your desk, so. Then you will hear sitting at your desk.
HANDLEY: I can't stand sitting at my desk. I'd rather
bend down and listen at my leisure. Right, Vodkin. We'll be
on the air in three minutes. Itma will tell the world.
HANDLEY: Well, dab my dial with distemper. It's working
at last. Is that you Dotty?
FUNF: No, I am not Dotty. This is Funf speaking. (Jack Train)
HANDLEY: Funf? How did you know I was on the phone?
FUNF: Because it was I - Funf - who fixed the phone in your office.
HANDLEY: You were in my office?
FUNF: Yes, and I have the plans of your radio station.
HANDLEY: So you were Oomph.
FUNF: Yes, Funf was Oomph.
HANDLEY: Well, I'll cough up all the coppers in the cash
FUNF: Now at last you will experience my Merry Designs.
HANDLEY: I'm not frightened of you, Funf. I'll see you
FUNF: No, not Tuesday - Friday.
FUNF: Yes, Friday.
ANNOUNCER: Once more Funf has foiled The Minister of Aggravation and
Mysteries. Itma is temporarily incapacitated by the shock,
so I'll get the band to revive him with 'Somewhere in France',
with Sam Costa.
COSTA & BAND 'SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE'. SEGUE INTO SIGNATURE TUNE
HANDLEY: Now for the opening of the Itma Publicity Campaign.
I never felt so nervous in my life. I'll be on the air in
a minute - I'll just try a few words into the mike, as I believe
they call it. Then Vodkin can carry on. I have to start as
soon as the purple light shows. There it is - no, it's Vodkin's
nose. (sings) When the deep purple light makes me split my
sleeves with fright Good gasworks - I'm on the air. Good evening,
Great Britain. As Minister of Aggravation it is my duty tonight
on the umpteenth day of the war against Depression to explain
to you that I have seven hundred further restrictions to impose
upon you. Here in the heart of the country I have been able
to think out some of the most irritating regulations you've
ever heard of, but first of all I have tried them out on the
home front - on my staff and on the other animals on my farm
- so now you'll hear what they think of them. Tell me, Mr
Fusspot, what do you think of my wife-restriction rule?
FUSSPOT: Oh, sir, it's most intriguing - most rejuvenating.
HANDLEY: I thought you'd say that, you flannel-footed
old philanderer. And what's your opinion, Mrs Tickle, of my
rule regarding shorter shirts for scarecrows?
TICKLE: Well, sir, I always does my best for all my gentlemen.
HANDLEY: You shirty old sud-splasher. Now, Dotty, are
you in favour of my latest idea - coupon for kisses?
DOTTY: Oh yes, Mr Handsqueeze - I've used up four books already.
HANDLEY: The lips that touch kippers can never touch mine.
And you, Jollop - are you in favour of the prohibition of
JOLLOP: That I am, sir - though how it 'elps me I don't rightly know.
I haven't had a bath since Jubilee.
HANDLEY: We'll have you de-contaminated. Finally, folks,
I'll ask my animals what they think of the great Itma. Mrs
Cow, forward - what is your opinion of the great Itma?
(Maurice Denham):Itma, Itma, moo moo moo.
HANDLEY: Thanks, I'll shake you by the crumpled for that.
Now, Mrs Porker.
(Maurice Denham): Good old Itma. I wish I had as many
HANDLEY: Splendid. Let me grip your trotter and my dear
Mrs Duck - you ought to know your proper gander.
DUCK: (Maurice Denham): Quack, Itma, etc.
HANDLEY: Excellent. The compliments of the seasoning to
you. And last but not least - one of my hybrid animals which
I obtained by crossing a pig with a sheep
VOICE: I think it's positively Persico. (Jack Train)
HANDLEY: What's that? Whose voice is that?
FUNF: This is Funf speaking. I, too, have a secret radio.
HANDLEY: Well, I'll be tickled with a turnip.
SIGNATURE TUNE TO FINISH