FRANCIS:

Now, this is the palace in Caesar's Square. Our commando unit will approach from Fish Street, under cover of night,

and make our way to the northwestern main drain. If questioned, we are sewage workers on our way to a conference.

Reg, our glorious leader and founder of the P.F.J., will be coordinating consultant at the drain head, though he himself

will not be taking part in any terrorist action, as he has a bad back.

BRIAN:

Aren't you going to come with us?

REG:

Solidarity, brother.

BRIAN:

Oh, yes. Solidarity, Reg.

FRANCIS:

Once in the sewer, timing will be of the essence. There is a Roman feast later in the evening, so we must move fast, and

don't wear your best sandals. Turning left here, we enter the Caesar-Augustus memorial sewer and from there, proceed

directly to the hypocaust. This has just been re-tiled, so terrorists, careful with those weapons. We will now be directly

beneath Pilate's audience chamber itself. This is the moment for Habbakuk to get out his prong.

[chink chink chink]

[thuk thuk chink chink chink chink chink]

[thump thump thump thump]

[suspenseful music]

[heartbeat]

CAMPAIGN FOR FREE GALILEE:

Shhh! Shh. Shhh. Shh.

DEADLY DIRK:

Campaign for Free Galilee.

FRANCIS:

Oh. Uh, People's Front of Judea. Officials.

DEADLY DIRK:

Oh.

FRANCIS:

What's your group doing here?

DEADLY DIRK:

We're going to kidnap Pilate's wife, take her back, issue demands.

FRANCIS:

So are we.

DEADLY DIRK:

What?

FRANCIS:

That's our plan!

DEADLY DIRK:

We were here first!

FRANCIS:

What do you mean?!

DEADLY DIRK:

We thought of it first!

WARRIS:

Oh, yeah?

DEADLY DIRK:

Yes, a couple of years ago!

P.F.J.:

Ha. Heh. Ha ha.

DEADLY DIRK:

We did!

FRANCIS:

Okay, c-- co-- come on. You got all your demands worked out, then?

DEADLY DIRK:

'Course we have.

FRANCIS:

What are they?

DEADLY DIRK:

Well, I'm not telling you.

P.F.J.:

Aghhh...

FRANCIS:

Oh, come on. Pull the other one.

P.F.J.:

Shh!

DEADLY DIRK:

That's not the point! We thought of it before you!

WARRIS:

Did not.

DEADLY DIRK:

We did!

FRANCIS:

You didn't.

C.F.G.:

We bloody did!

BRIAN:

Shhhh!

P.F.J.:

Shhhhh! Shh.

DEADLY DIRK:

You bastards! We've been planning this for months.

FRANCIS:

Well, tough titty for you, Fish Face. Oh! Oh.

RANDOM:

All right.

WARRIS:

Clever. You sly...

BRIAN:

Brothers! Brothers! We should be struggling together!

FRANCIS:

We are! Ohh.

BRIAN:

We mustn't fight each other! Surely we should be united against the common enemy!

EVERYONE:

The Judean People's Front?!

BRIAN:

No, no! The Romans!

EVERYONE:

Oh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yes.

FRANCIS:

Yeah. He's right.

RANDOM:

Look out!

RANDOM:

Careful.

[clop clop clop clop clop clop clop]

DEADLY DIRK:

Right! Where were we?

FRANCIS:

Uhh, you were going to punch me.

DEADLY DIRK:

Oh, yeah.

[C.F.G. and P.F.J. fight]

BRIAN:

Brothers!

[whop]

Oof!

Ben, the ancient prisoner

VOICE:

Huo!

[whip]

VOICE:

Hoo hoo hoo! Oh!

[clank]

[whump]

BRIAN:

Eh.

[clank]

JAILER:

Eh, heh heh ha. [ptoo]

BRIAN:

Aah! Eh.

JAILER:

Eh, heh heh. [cough cough cough cough cough]

BEN:

You lucky bastard.

BRIAN:

Who's that?

BEN: You lucky, lucky bastard.

BRIAN:

What?

BEN: Proper little jailer's pet, aren't we?

BRIAN:

What do you mean?

BEN:

You must have slipped him a few shekels, eh?

BRIAN:

Slipped him a few shekels? You saw him spit in my face!

BEN:

Ohh! What wouldn't I give to be spat at in the face! I sometimes hang awake at night dreaming of being spat at in the

face.

BRIAN:

Well, it's not exactly friendly, is it? They had me in manacles!

BEN:

Manacles! Ooh oooh oh oh.

My idea of heaven is to be allowed to be put in manacles... just for a few hours. They must think the sun shines out o'

your arse, sonny.

BRIAN:

Oh, lay off me. I've had a hard time!

BEN:

You've had a hard time?! I've been here five years! They only hung me the right way up yesterday! So, don't you come

'rou--

BRIAN:

All right. All right.

BEN:

They must think you're Lord God Almighty.

BRIAN:

What will they do to me?

BEN:

Oh, you'll probably get away with crucifixion.

BRIAN:

Crucifixion?!

BEN:

Yeah, first offence.

BRIAN:

Get away with crucifixion?! It's--

BEN:

Best thing the Romans ever did for us.

BRIAN:

What?!

BEN:

Oh, yeah. If we didn't have crucifixion, this country would be in a right bloody mess.

BRIAN:

Guards!

BEN:

Nail him up, I say!

BRIAN:

Guards!

BEN:

Nail some sense into him!

JAILER:

[cough cough] What do you want?

BRIAN:

I want you to move me to another cell.

JAILER:

Ha! [ptoo]

BRIAN:

Aah!

BEN:

Oh, look at that! Bloody favouritism!

JAILER:

Shut up, you!

BEN:

Sorry!

JAILER:

Huhh. [cough cough]

BEN:

Now, take my case. They hung me up here five years ago. Every night, they take me down for twenty minutes, then they

hang me up again, which I regard as very fair, in view of what I done, and, if nothing else, it's taught me to respect the

Romans, and it's taught me... that you'll never get anywhere in this life, unless you're prepared to do a fair day's work for

a fair day's pay!

BRIAN:

Oh, shut up!

[clank]

JAILER:

Ehhh.

CENTURION:

Pilate wants to see you!

BRIAN:

Me?

CENTURION:

Come on!

BRIAN:

Pilate? What does he want to see me for?

CENTURION:

I think he wants to know which way up you want to be crucified.

BEN:

Oh, ha ha ha haa! Ha haa! Nice one, Centurion. Like it. Like it.

CENTURION:

Shut up!

BEN:

Right. Right. Terrific race, the Romans. Terrific.

Pontius Pilate

[trumpets]

PONTIUS PILATE:

...Make one large living awea. Ahh.

CENTURION:

Hail Caesar.

PILATE:

Hail.

CENTURION:

Only one survivor, sir.

PILATE:

Ah. Thwow him to the floor.

CENTURION:

What, sir?

PILATE:

Thwow him to the floor.

CENTURION:

Ah.

[whump]

BRIAN:

Aagh!

PILATE:

Hmm. Now, what is your name, Jew?

BRIAN:

'Brian', sir.

PILATE:

'Bwian', eh?

BRIAN:

No, no. 'Brian'.

[slap]

Aah!

PILATE:

Hoo hoo hoo ho. The little wascal has spiwit.

CENTURION:

Has what, sir?

PILATE:

Spiwit.

CENTURION:

Yes. He did, sir.

PILATE:

No, no. Spiwit, siw. Um, bwavado. A touch of dewwing-do.

CENTURION:

Oh. Ahh, about eleven, sir.

PILATE:

So, you dare to waid us.

BRIAN:

To what, sir?

PILATE:

Stwike him, Centuwion, vewy woughly!

[slap]

BRIAN:

Aaah!

CENTURION:

Oh, and, uh, throw him to the floor, sir?

PILATE:

What?

CENTURION:

Thwow him to the floor again, sir?

PILATE:

Oh, yes. Thwow him to the floor, please.

BRIAN:

Aah!

[whump]

PILATE:

Now, Jewish wapscallion.

BRIAN:

I'm not Jewish. I'm a Roman.

PILATE:

A Woman?

BRIAN:

No, no. Roman.

[slap]

Aah!

PILATE:

So, your father was a Woman. Who was he?

BRIAN:

He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrisons.

PILATE:

Weally? What was his name?

BRIAN:

'Nortius Maximus'.

CENTURION:

Ahh, ha ha!

PILATE:

Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?

CENTURION:

Well, no, sir.

PILATE:

Well, you sound vewy sure. Have you checked?

CENTURION:

Well, no, sir. Umm, I think it's a joke, sir,... like, uh, 'Sillius Soddus' or... 'Biggus Dickus', sir.

GUARD #4:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

What's so... funny about 'Biggus Dickus'?

CENTURION:

Well, it's a joke name, sir.

PILATE:

I have a vewy gweat fwiend in Wome called 'Biggus Dickus'.

GUARD #4:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

Silence! What is all this insolence? You will find yourself in gladiator school vewy quickly with wotten behaviour like

that.

BRIAN:

Can I go now, sir?

[slap]

Aaah! Eh.

PILATE:

Wait till Biggus Dickus hears of this.

GUARD #4:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

Wight! Take him away!

CENTURION:

Oh, sir, he-- he only--

PILATE:

No, no. I want him fighting wabid, wild animals within a week.

CENTURION:

Yes, sir. Come on, you.

GUARD #4:

Ha ha haa ha, ha ha ha. Hooo hooo hoo hoo. Hoo hoo...

PILATE:

I will not have my fwiends widiculed by the common soldiewy. Anybody else feel like a little... giggle... when I mention

my fwiend... Biggus...

GUARD #1:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

...Dickus?

GUARD #1:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

What about you? Do you find it... wisible... when I say the name...

'Biggus'...

GUARD #3:

[chuckle]

PILATE:

...'Dickus'?

GUARD #1 and GUARD #2:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

He has a wife, you know. You know what she's called? She's called... 'Incontinentia'. 'Incontinentia Buttocks'.

GUARDS:

[laughing]

PILATE:

Stop! What is all this?

GUARDS:

Ha , ha ha ha ha ha...

PILATE:

I've had enough of this wowdy webel sniggewing behaviour. Silence! Call yourselves Pwaetowian guards? You're not--

Seize him! Seize him! Blow your noses and seize him!

Brian and the spaceship

[thud thud]

WORKMAN:

Hmm? Oh. [whistling]

BRIAN:

Aaaaaaah!

[woosh]

ALIEN #1:

Aggz.

ALIEN #2:

Rozak kaibak.

[siren]

Agk! Grohtch. Ak!

[whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz]

[screeeech]

[crash]

[whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz]

[boom]

[zoooom]

[CRASH]

PASSER-BY:

Ooh, you lucky bastard.