BLUEBOTTLE BLUES
(Milligan / Carbone)
The Goons - 1956


Big musical introduction. 

Sound of door opening, and Bluebottle (B) runs up to microphone, 
where Segoon (S) is waiting. 

B: Oh! Hello everybody! 

S: Just the lad I've been looking for. 

B: Oh! 

S: Clamber in my head, Fred Whence all but you have fled, Fred There 
is no contesting, I've no way of manifesting How much I'd prefer you 
dead, Fred 

B: Oh I'm glad you like me, my Captain Because I trust you too. 

S: Gratifiy your wim, Jim. 

B: Jim? What happened to Fred? 

S: He changed his name. 

B: What to? 

S: Chunky. Tell me, can you swim Jim? 

B: No, Jim can not swim. 

S: Then step upon this plank, son On the river bank, son Which I have 
carefully arranged so it will suddenly tip up and throw you into 
thirty feet of muddy water when you upset the trim by stepping on the 
rim, Jim. 

B: I say, it's not for deading me, is it Captain? 

S: Oh course not, dear boy! Just walk along it a bit further! 

B: Righty-ho then. Ahh. Here I am on the edge of the nice little 
wooden-type plank. It is a lovely day for a naughty blank.  
Arg! Oh! YAHHH! You've drowneded me. I do not like this game.  
I've got those "When I say I trust you I do not want to be drownded 
because I do not like those kind of game" Blues. I don't like tricks 
that go sploogy-splat (They say harm can come to a young lad like 
that) And I do not like explosions that blow me back to Christmas (?) 
Out of my el-seaside pudding queue (???) I don't like being wetted by 
nasty April showers And I do not like being nutted by Eifel and 
Blackpool towers So I do not want to be drowned, nutted, deaded, 
hitteded, splatted pledded! I don't like that kind of type blues -- I 
don't like that I've got them Bluebottle Blues. 

S: Still alive? Take this cigarette, pet. 

B: Oh ta 

S: No, don't light it yet, pet.  All right, now you can light 
it. 

B: Are you sure I won't be deaded or nothing, Captain? 

S:  No, no -- don't be frightened! 

B: All right then, I'll just put a match to it, and .... 

< BOOOM> 

< over explosion > You rotten swine you! You deaded me again. I 
shan't play this rotten game no more. Picks up fretted knee caps, 
replaces lugging lug hole And exists through little hole in middle of 
record   

(Milligan, unaccompanied) I'm walking backwards for Christmas -- oh 
no, that's on the other side!