Yesterday I got home to be confronted with my first birthday present, a week early, not from my dad (like I suspected, as he uses Amazon a lot) but from SuicideDoggie and Rainwolfkin. Goddamn what lovely people (& thanks once again if you're reading). 
And so without further ado, an homage to my prezzy, the most superbly written comedy Of All Time Evar to keep you chuckling over the weekend.
---
Baldrick: What, have you got a plan, My Lord?
Edmund: Yes I have, and it's so cunning you could brush your teeth with it! All I need is some feathers, a dress, some oil, an easel, some sleeping draught, lots of paper, a prostitute and the best portrait painter in England.
Baldrick: I'll get them right away, My Lord! (rushes out)
[later, enter Baldrick and painter]
Baldrick: My Lord, the most famous painter in England: Mr. Leonardo Acropolis.
Edmund: Right, are you any good?
Leonardo: (turns away, speaks in silly Italian accent) No! I am ... a genius!
Edmund: Well, you'd better be, or you're dead!
[Leonardo sticks out his tongue; there's pounding on the front door]
Edmund: Right, in the bedroom, Beardface. Baldrick, get the door.
Baldrick: My Lord.
[Baldrick and Leonardo leave; Edmund shuts the door behind them and then sits down, puts his feet up, and begins reading a book. Baldrick flies through the door, again quite literally, and lies on the floor with the shrapnel.]
Baldrick: My Lord, the Bishop of Bath and Wells.
Bishop: (enters) The time has come, Blackadder!
Edmund: Oh, hello, Bish.
Bishop: The Black Monks will have their money, or I will have my fun.
Edmund: You enjoy your work, don't you?
Bishop: Bits of it, yeah.
Edmund: The violent bits.
Bishop: Yes. (begins massaging Edmund's shoulders) You see, I am a colossal pervert. No form of sexual depravity is too low for me. Animal, vegetable or mineral I'll do anything to anything.
Edmund: Fine words for a Bishop. It's nice to hear the Church speaking out for a change on social issues.
Bishop: Have you got the money?
Edmund: Nope.
Bishop: Good. I hate it when people pay up. Say your prayers, Blackadder. (holds out the hot poker) IT'S POKER TIME!!!
Edmund: Fine. (closes the book and sets it down, then stands) Are you ever concerned that people might find you out?
Bishop: No. No, no, I kill, I maim, I fornicate, but as far as my flock is concerned my only vice is a little tibble before Evensong. (Baldrick hands him a drink) Oh, thank you. (drinks) BEND OVER, BLACKADDER!
[Edmund complies]
Bishop: THIS IS WHERE YOU GET (staggers backward, choking) DRUGGED BY GOD!
Edmund: No, by Baldrick, actually, but the effect is much the same.
[in bedroom; Edmund pulls open a curtain, behind which Bishop lies in bed]
Edmund: Wakey, wakey, Bish. Dear me, you clerics really are sluggerbeds.
Bishop: (groggy) Where am I? I remember...drugged...
Edmund: That's right.
Bishop: You should have killed me while you had the chance. (sits up) You have looked in wonder at your last dawn, Blackadder!
Edmund: Well, I'm not sure about that. I did wonder, though, what people who saw this might think.
[Baldrick stands nearby, holding a portrait]
Bishop: Heavens above, what creatures from Hell are those?
Edmund: They make an interesting couple, don't they? I think you probably recognise this huge, sweating mound of blubber here, eh, Fatso?
[Bishop charges toward the portrait, but Edmund pushes him back to the bed]
Edmund: There's no point, anyway; we have the peliminary sketches. We'll soon bang off couple of copies. Let's see, one for the Queen, one for the Archbishop, a couple kept aside, perhaps, to form the basis of an exciting exhibition of a challenging young artist's work.
Bishop: By the horns of Beelzebub, how did you get me into that position?
Edmund: It's beautifully framed, don't you think? which is ironic, really, because that's exactly what's happened to you.
Bishop: You fiend! Never have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the Church?
Edmund: No, I could never get used to the underwear.
[Bishop nods in apprehension]
Edmund: What I could use, though, is, let's say eleven hundred pounds to buy back my house four thousand pounds to cover some sundry expenses, ten shillings for the two doors, and let's say thruppence for a celebratory slap up binge at Mrs. Miggins' pie shop... (last bit said toBaldrick)
[Baldrick smiles and nods]
Bishop: Yes, yes, but first, one question: Who is this second figure? Who could you have got to have performed such deeds, to have gone lower than man has ever gone, to have plunged the depths of degradation just in order to save your filthy life?!!!
[From beneath the covers, Percy wakes and sits up. He is dressed in red leather with chains and assorted items.]
Edmund: Ah, Percy, may I introduce His Grace, the Bishop of Bath and Wells. Your Grace, Lord
Percy. Percy, Heir to the Duchy of Northumberland.
Percy: (speaks weakly) Hello. (shakes Bishop's hand) It was lovely working with you.
And so without further ado, an homage to my prezzy, the most superbly written comedy Of All Time Evar to keep you chuckling over the weekend.
---
Baldrick: What, have you got a plan, My Lord?
Edmund: Yes I have, and it's so cunning you could brush your teeth with it! All I need is some feathers, a dress, some oil, an easel, some sleeping draught, lots of paper, a prostitute and the best portrait painter in England.
Baldrick: I'll get them right away, My Lord! (rushes out)
[later, enter Baldrick and painter]
Baldrick: My Lord, the most famous painter in England: Mr. Leonardo Acropolis.
Edmund: Right, are you any good?
Leonardo: (turns away, speaks in silly Italian accent) No! I am ... a genius!
Edmund: Well, you'd better be, or you're dead!
[Leonardo sticks out his tongue; there's pounding on the front door]
Edmund: Right, in the bedroom, Beardface. Baldrick, get the door.
Baldrick: My Lord.
[Baldrick and Leonardo leave; Edmund shuts the door behind them and then sits down, puts his feet up, and begins reading a book. Baldrick flies through the door, again quite literally, and lies on the floor with the shrapnel.]
Baldrick: My Lord, the Bishop of Bath and Wells.
Bishop: (enters) The time has come, Blackadder!
Edmund: Oh, hello, Bish.
Bishop: The Black Monks will have their money, or I will have my fun.
Edmund: You enjoy your work, don't you?
Bishop: Bits of it, yeah.
Edmund: The violent bits.
Bishop: Yes. (begins massaging Edmund's shoulders) You see, I am a colossal pervert. No form of sexual depravity is too low for me. Animal, vegetable or mineral I'll do anything to anything.
Edmund: Fine words for a Bishop. It's nice to hear the Church speaking out for a change on social issues.
Bishop: Have you got the money?
Edmund: Nope.
Bishop: Good. I hate it when people pay up. Say your prayers, Blackadder. (holds out the hot poker) IT'S POKER TIME!!!
Edmund: Fine. (closes the book and sets it down, then stands) Are you ever concerned that people might find you out?
Bishop: No. No, no, I kill, I maim, I fornicate, but as far as my flock is concerned my only vice is a little tibble before Evensong. (Baldrick hands him a drink) Oh, thank you. (drinks) BEND OVER, BLACKADDER!
[Edmund complies]
Bishop: THIS IS WHERE YOU GET (staggers backward, choking) DRUGGED BY GOD!
Edmund: No, by Baldrick, actually, but the effect is much the same.
[in bedroom; Edmund pulls open a curtain, behind which Bishop lies in bed]
Edmund: Wakey, wakey, Bish. Dear me, you clerics really are sluggerbeds.
Bishop: (groggy) Where am I? I remember...drugged...
Edmund: That's right.
Bishop: You should have killed me while you had the chance. (sits up) You have looked in wonder at your last dawn, Blackadder!
Edmund: Well, I'm not sure about that. I did wonder, though, what people who saw this might think.
[Baldrick stands nearby, holding a portrait]
Bishop: Heavens above, what creatures from Hell are those?
Edmund: They make an interesting couple, don't they? I think you probably recognise this huge, sweating mound of blubber here, eh, Fatso?
[Bishop charges toward the portrait, but Edmund pushes him back to the bed]
Edmund: There's no point, anyway; we have the peliminary sketches. We'll soon bang off couple of copies. Let's see, one for the Queen, one for the Archbishop, a couple kept aside, perhaps, to form the basis of an exciting exhibition of a challenging young artist's work.
Bishop: By the horns of Beelzebub, how did you get me into that position?
Edmund: It's beautifully framed, don't you think? which is ironic, really, because that's exactly what's happened to you.
Bishop: You fiend! Never have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the Church?
Edmund: No, I could never get used to the underwear.
[Bishop nods in apprehension]
Edmund: What I could use, though, is, let's say eleven hundred pounds to buy back my house four thousand pounds to cover some sundry expenses, ten shillings for the two doors, and let's say thruppence for a celebratory slap up binge at Mrs. Miggins' pie shop... (last bit said toBaldrick)
[Baldrick smiles and nods]
Bishop: Yes, yes, but first, one question: Who is this second figure? Who could you have got to have performed such deeds, to have gone lower than man has ever gone, to have plunged the depths of degradation just in order to save your filthy life?!!!
[From beneath the covers, Percy wakes and sits up. He is dressed in red leather with chains and assorted items.]
Edmund: Ah, Percy, may I introduce His Grace, the Bishop of Bath and Wells. Your Grace, Lord
Percy. Percy, Heir to the Duchy of Northumberland.
Percy: (speaks weakly) Hello. (shakes Bishop's hand) It was lovely working with you.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
Sorry mate , need to be in the city for around 6am so closeness it is pretty important .
like a giant bap , yes