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In the reign of good Queen Vic,
there stood in Dumpling Lane in London
the moustache shop of one Ebenezer Blackadder.
He was the kindest and loveliest man in all England.
# He's kind and generous to the sick,
# He'd never spread a nasty rumour.
# He never gets on people's wick,
# And doesn't laugh at toilet humour.
# Blackadder, Blackadder,
# He's sickeningly good,
# Blackadder, Blackadder,
# As nice as Christmas pud. #
-Humbug, Mr Baldrick?
-Oh, thank you very much.
-I've got all the presents.
-And I've nearly finished the cards.
"A very messy Christmas!" Sorry, but shouldn't that be "merry"?
"A merry messy Christmas?" OK, but the main thing is that it's messy:
messy, wet kisses under the mistletoe.
I fear, Mr Baldrick, that the only way YOU'LL get a messy, wet kiss
is to make a pass at a water closet!
Be that as it may... "A merry messy Christmas"... Christmas has an 'H' in it!
And an 'R'.
..And an 'I', an 'S', a 'T'... Also an 'A' and another 'S'!
Oh, and you've missed out the 'C'!
Well done! You must be the first person ever to get none of the letters right!
-I've been busy with the workhouse nativity play.
-Oh, how did it go?
-Not very well.
The baby playing Jesus died!
This high infant mortality rate is a real devil when it comes to staging quality children's theatre!
-What did you do?
There weren't any kids, so we got a dog.
I'm not sure Christianity would have gained such a grip, if all Jesus had ever said was "woof"!
Well, it went all right until the shepherds came on.
-We didn't have any sheep, so we'd stuck some wool on...
The moment Jesus got a whiff of 'em, he's away!
While the angel's singing "Goodwill to all men",
Jesus is trying to get one of the sheep to give him a piggy-back!
Hardly appropriate for the Son of God! Were the children upset?
-No! They loved it!
-The playful young scamps, eh? Still...
..what a lovely thought - at this moment, all over the land, from the lowest to the highest,
to the charming plump people in the middle, everyone is enjoying Christmas.
What are you doing, Albert?
Yes, you are, you naughty German sausage!
-I'm not doing anything!
Ven you are ruling India, you don't tell me vot you are doing.
So I von't tell you what I'm doing wrapping up zis cushion.
-Damn! Now I have only two surprises for you.
-Don't worry, I don't mind.
I LOVE surprises!
Christmas without surprises
is like ze nuts without a nutcracker.
Which is why I've bought you zis surprise nutcracker... Damn!
Oh, darling Bo-Bo, don't worry!
-Besides, haven't you forgotten something?
-Our traditional Christmas adventure!
Of course! Our traditional Christmas adventure! ..Vat adventure?
You silly soldier! When we disguise ourselves and go out to reward the virtuous and the good!
Of course! Dummkopf! How could I forget?
It is for precisely such an outing zat I have bought you my final surprise -
zis muff, which I am going to...
Excellent! What a splendid spread! Turkey and presents - what more could you want at Christmas?
-Of course! I quite forgot.
I dropped in on Mr Thicktwistle's Garden Emporium, and got quite a bargain...
..on this special Christmas twig.
It's a bit of a tiddler.
Yes, but size isn't important.
It's not what you've got, it's where you stick it! Besides...
-..we've got a whole year's profits to spend on fun and larks.
-£17 Os 1d.
-It'd be more, if you didn't give so much away.
-But in the "feeling-good" ledger of life, we're rich indeed!
AND in the "bit-short-of-pressies- and-gullible-prat" ledger, too!
-Bless my toes!
Who could that be? ..Mrs Scratchit!
Greetings on this merry night!
O-h-h-h, Mr Blackadder!
Merry? We'll 'ave nothing to eat on Christmas day!
..'Cept what's under Grandad's toenails!
No goose for Tiny Tom this year!
Mrs Scratchit, Tiny Tom is 15st, and built like a brick privy!
If he eats any more, he'll turn into a pie shop!
There must be something we can do.
-Those matches are just what I need. What did they cost?
-A quid a match.
-I suspect that to be a lie of sorts.
-But it's Christmas eve...
Here, take ten pounds!
So you don't want all 17 of them?
You have the body of a weak woman, but the mind of a criminal genius!
-And my best wishes to your massive offspring!
So we had £17 0s 1d, and we gave Mrs Scratchit £17, so that leaves...
Yes, come on, Mr Baldrick. £17 0s 1d minus £17 leaves...
£38 8s 4d.
-Not bad! The answer is, in fact, a penny.
Merry Christmas eve, Mr Slackbladder!
And to you, young urchin!
A penny for Christmas, sucker... er, sir?
-Going to buy some cake for your silver-haired mother?
-Sod that, I'm getting some gin!
They grow up so fast these days, bless 'em! Well, another year without profit!
Still, it IS Christmas, and let us remember, Mr Baldrick,
that be we as stony as a rock, it is the season of goodwill.
-We've got nuts, turkey...
-SCREECHING CACKLE >
..and my god-daughter, Millicent!
Secure the ornaments, and let her in!
So, all the presents are ready:
gloves for Mr Baldrick, a scarf for me, and a hat for Millicent.
To what do I owe this great pleasure?
I just thought I'd pop by on the off-chance...
..Christmas being a time connected with presents!
-Indeed! And look, a lovely hat for my dear god-daughter.
Oh, and look! A scarf and a pair of gloves to match!
That's not bad, I suppose!
Yes, jolly good!
I can't stop, but I thought I might come back tomorrow - at lunchtime.
-I'll bring my teensy boyfriend, so cook an extra turkey.
-Thanks for all the pressies!
-Why not take the flippin' tree(?)
Oh! You ARE sweet!
Bye! SHE CACKLES
-Bye! My, what a jolly young girl!
-Yeah. Pity she nicked the presents!
Yes, but I thought you and I would be spoiled with the turkey and ALL these nuts!
-Peel my tangerines!
Ah, Beadle! Charmed, honoured and lovelied!
Compliments of the gorging season to you.
And fat tums to all men!
Yes. What of your orphan charges?
Well, I don't think I charges 'em enough, actually!
Luckily, you make up the difference.
They'll be visiting you with a surprise tomorrow.
Perhaps another little rendition of "God rest ye merry, Mr Blackadder"?
Not for me to say, sir.
All I know is that we've managed to eat all our nuts before the big day.
-What luck! As fate would have it, we have some. Help yourselves.
-No, sir, I couldn't.
Is this all? I suppose it'll do.
See you tomorrow!
What a jolly fellow!
Looked like a fat git to me!
Well, yes. But you mustn't judge people from outward appearances.
-Strip away the outer layers of a fat git, and you'll find...
-A thin git!
-Those orphans were fat, too.
-Well, there's some truth there.
When I visit, I do tend to remove sharp objects for fear of bursting one of them,
..and getting showered in pie!
But as long as they're happy.
We've still got the turkey, and Christmas is a time for miracles.
If we screw up our eyes and pray to the big pink pixie in the sky,
someone might come and reward us.
Dear, innocent Mr Baldrick!
Well! Baste my steaming puddings!
-Ah, good evening!
We have come on a mission to reward the virtuous.
We have heard many stories of your kindness.
-Oh, well, one tries!
-Give us £10 for the virtuous lady next door.
-We'd love to oblige, but sadly, we've nothing to give.
-Nothing? What about a goose?
We've only got a turkey, see.
-That sounds ideal!
-Well, there's a bit of luck!
Mr Baldrick, fetch the turkey.
Your accent tells me you're not from round here.
I am from Glasgow.
A fine city! I love the Gorbals.
Ah, yes! I love ze Gorbals, too. Lovely couple - lots of fun!
-Very well done! Good evening.
-If I see ze Gorbals, I give them your regards.
Oh, dear. It looks as though we're in for a thin Christmas!
Don't worry. I've hung up my sock for Santa.
If there's one thing guaranteed to stop Santa coming, it's your sock waiting for him there.
If I don't hang my sock out, how will Santa fill it?
If you do hang it out, Santa will be dead before he gets near it!
-Don't you have any others?
-I've got one other!
Oh, take one of mine from the linen cupboard, dear chap. I'm off to bed.
-There's nothing to stay up for. Goodnight.
-Night, night. Oh, I forgot...
When you were out there, this enormous ghostly creature came in, saying,
"Tonight you'll receive a terrible visitation!"
It come through the wall, said its piece, then sodded off.
Oh, fine! Goodnight!
-Can I help?
-No, thanks, no, no!
Spirit of Christmas, how do you do?
Just doing the rounds. Getting misers to change their evil ways.
But there'll be no need for that here!
Some tea, perhaps?
You wouldn't have anything more... medicinal?
I've only got some of the nurse's surgical bruise lotion.
Nothing but the best at this house, eh?
It's a nice change from misers. You know him across the road?
I caught him trying to cut down on his heating bills by using his John Thomas as a draught excluder!
-Oh, dear... Old people today!
How do you get them to change?
It's all visions these days, though we used to use line drawings.
-What sort of thing?
-It depends, really.
For some, it's just a glimpse of their behaviour at school...
Others get shown how rotten their ancestors were.
For YOUR ancestors, it would have to be the full one-hour vision, with ice creams!
-That bad, eh?
-Did nobody tell you?
Stinkers! Perhaps you'd like to see...
Come on, my lord, give it a pull. You know you want to! It'll be ever so exciting!
Look, there's a gift inside. It's a novelty death warrant, and you give it to a friend.
Ah! Just what I've always wanted!
-You got anything for me?
-It's nothing, really.
No, really, it's NOTHING!
I spent all I had on this.
She'd better bloody like it. She dropped enough hints.
She's as subtle as a rhino horn up the backside! Door!
Morning, Your Majesty! Don't you just love Christmas?
-No, I hate it! In fact, I've just abolished it!
I'm going to block up the chimneys, burn all the crackers, and kill anyone carrying a present.
Oh... Ha! Ha!
-What's that, Edmund?
It's a window.
-Yes, but you seem to have one here. Sorry!
Well, so much for that!
Greetings! I trust that Christmas brings the usual food and stomach cramp!
And compliments of the season to YOU.
May the yuletide log burn your house down!
I feel it only fair to warn you that the Queen has banned Christmas, so forget the present.
I'm indebted to you, and shall follow your advice.
(..The day my brain becomes a cauliflower!)
Ha! Got him with my subtle plan!
I can't see any subtle plan.
Baldrick, you wouldn't see one if it danced naked on a harpsichord,
singing, "Subtle Plans Are Here Again"!
Melchett will undoubtedly do the opposite of what I say, and then...quack!
He'll turn into a duck?
Pity about this, Tinkywink! You used to LOVE this time of year.
Leaving a mince pie and a glass of wine out for Father Christmas...
Then scoffing it because princesses can do what they like!
And wondering if your father's wife would get her head chopped off by Boxing Day.
-We knew that if he gave her a hat, she'd probably be all right.
Yes... Maybe I was a little rash.
Ah, boys, welcome back!
Melchett, what's that under your coat?
It's not a present?
-A present, Majesty? But of course! (You're so painfully transparent!)
Fab! I LOVE presents!
For a moment, I hated Christmas. But now I love it!
In fact, I'd like to marry you.
..If you didn't look like a slug!
O pish, Majesty!
To reward you, I'm going to give you LOTS of presents. Fancy a castle?
-Duke of Kent?
-A devilish, saucy wife would be fun.
-Lady Jane Pottle!
She's Blackadder's girl, but that's OK.
Perhaps Lord Melchett would like to whip me naked through the streets of Aberdeen!
-I don't think we need go that far.
-Aylesbury will do!
Blackadder, what have you got me?
-I WANT A PRESSIE!!
Give me something nice and shiny. If you don't, I'll give you a shiny axe!
-Right! Any last requests before your block goes on top of the Crimble tree?
Um... Well, there is ONE, actually, Ma'am.
You know...er...how I've been a great admirer of you both.
-Could I have your autographs to keep me company in my final lonely hours?
Just there... Thank you.
-Oh! Dear me!
-What is it?
This paper Your Majesty just signed turns out to be some sort of death warrant!
-And to go back on it would destroy the basis of the Constitution!
-So I fear!
-Is there a name on it?
..Lord... I can't read the writing! Lord... Melchett. Yes, Melchett, that's it!
Ma'am, it's a trick!
Oh, good! Christmas is a time for tricks and japes and merry larks.
-Blackadder, that's so brilliant, I'll execute Melchett instead!
-You're so kind!
And I suppose that means that everything of Melchett's is yours.
I suppose it does!
Merry Christmas, Ma'am!
What a horrible pig, eh?!
Though clearly quite a clever pig.
No, as you say, disgraceful!
You're an improvement on them all.
Them? Are there more?
Yes! Have a shufty at this!
# Oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-h! #
Right, I'm sick of the Prince getting all the presents, so this is the plan.
When he gets bored with charades and asks for a story,
you come out here, put on the dress, and knock on the door.
-I get it.
-You will if you mess this up!
Ah, welcome lads! This is the stuff, eh?
Sherry and charades with the fellows. I mean, what could I do with a girl that I can't with you?
-I cannot conceive, sir.
-Well, there is that!
Who's first? Not Horatio, it seems!
-It's the little monkey fellow, then.
Excellent! Oh, I love charades!
-It's a book.
-Well done! I didn't think you'd get it.
Another great Christmas tradition - explaining the rules to the Thickie Twins.
It has to be a SPECIFIC book.
If I was doing the Bible, I'd show there were two syllables in it...
Two silly bulls? I don't think so, Blackadder, not in the Bible!
I can remember a fatted calf, but that was... Ah! Was it..?
Is it Noah's Ark? ..With two pigs, two ants and the two silly bulls...?
-Let's start again...
No, I think the whole game's a bit sill-A.
-Let's have a story instead.
-Oh, yes! I'll just get rid of the servant.
The smell of roasting chestnuts can't even cover that of Baldrick!
(Don't forget the dress and the hat.)
-So, shall I begin?
As long as it's not that awful one about the chap born on Christmas Day,
who shoots his mouth off, and then comes a cropper on top of a hill in Arabland!
You mean Jesus?
Yes! Keep him out of it. He always spoils the atmos!
Oh, my God! I've gone blind!
Oh, that's better!
-This is a story about a handsome young prince.
-Ah, this is more like it!
Good-looking, lovely hair like a loaf of bread?
-Yes, I can imagine him!
Well, it's a tale about him and a sad, lonely old granny, who's dying of cold at Christmas.
-Not a comedy, then?
She thought all was lost, and that she would die on Christmas night,
and be swept up on Boxing Day.
Then she knocked on the door of handsome young Prince George.
He gave her his massive collection of Christmas presents, and she lived happily ever after.
By Satan's sausage, Bladder, what a fine tale! I'm quite moved to tears.
-I wonder who that could be!
-On a cruel Christmas night...Tricky! Could be a robin!
Why, sir! It's a sad, lonely old granny, who's dying of cold!
Shall I fling her from your door,
saying there is no room for a lonely old woman here?
No, you swine! Bring her in!
-(Trolley's a nice touch, Baldrick!)
-Take all you want. I'm your prince!
Shall I show her out, ensure she doesn't take the silver?
-No, no! Tell her to take it!
-You're very generous, sir.
Excellent, Baldrick! A triumph!
Sorry, Mr B.
I was just showing an old lady to the door. Are you ready yet?
-Well, I answered the door, and it was this sweet old lady collecting for charity.
-Something wrong, Mr B?
No, I should've known not to trust a man with the brain of a rabbit dropping!
-It's perfectly all right.
Still, I fear for a frail old lady, laden with valuables,
travelling through the dark streets of London.
-She's not safe.
-Well, not from me!
-In what way?
-Er, the wigs! Amusing wigs!
But the behaviour was disgraceful!
But he actually got the presents!
-So, there is something to be made from being bad?
Technically, yes. But that's not the point.
It's the soul!
-What would happen in the future, if
-Heavens, is that the time?
-..I'd love to see Christmas future.
-No, no, no... It's too dramatic!
-Just show it! Please!
Hail Queen Asphyxia, Mistress of the Universe!
And hail to you, my triple husbandoid!
I summon you here to group-greet our Imperial Navies home.
Approach, Grand Admiral of the Dark Segment
and Lord of the High-Slung Bottoms of Zob.
To you, Blackadder, thrice-endowed Supreme Donkey of the Trouserpod, this much greeting!
-I, too, bold navigator, cringe my dribblies at your pothlesnood.
-That's not necessary.
Approach your slave - Baldrick!
For God's sake, if you insist on wearing that, you could at least keep your legs together.
-Majesties, I give you a greeting.
-What news of the foul Marmidons?
And have the Sheep-Squeezers of Splaticon Five been suck-creamed?
Well, they're dead, yes!
-Did you vanquish the Nibble-Pibblies?
-No, Lord Pigmot, I didn't...
..You just made them up.
Excellent, Commander, you have most pleasantly wibbled my frusset pouch.
Bring forth the gift that honours me.
Majesties, from a place where the stars begin, I bring you this.
Lovely! An ashtray.
He wastes our time. I yearn to watch 20,000 Years of the Two Ronnoids.
-Send him to the sprouting chamber.
-What is it, Commander?
-I'll show you.
And now, Your Majesty, I insist that you hand over to me the Supreme Command of the Universe,
sew a button on my uniform and marry me this afternoon.
I thought you'd never ask.
So if I was bad, my descendants would rule the entire universe?
Maybe, but would you be happy? Being Ruler of the Universe isn't all that good.
You have to wave at people all the time.
What does the future hold if I stay good?
I must put my foot down. I've got four hauntings to do.
Hail, Queen Asphyxia, Mistress of the Universe!
And hail to you, my triple husbandoid!
I summon you here to group-greet our Imperial Navies home.
Approach, Grand Admiral of the Dark Segment
and Lord of the High-Slung Bottoms of Zob.
-And your slave?
-What's his name?
-I can't remember, Your Majesty.
No matter, Master of the Smells. What news of the Marmidons?
..For the Marmidons. They wiped out our entire army.
-I was a bit confused and bombed our own lot.
-Bring forth the gift with which you honour me.
-Damn! I forgot the bloody present.
One way is glory, the other way is wearing Baldrick's posing pouch!
-That gives a very clear lesson.
That the rewards of virtue are largely spiritual.
You don't think it shows that bad guys have all the fun?!
No! The rewards of virtue are far more attractive.
Picture it! Quiet evenings in your hovel...alone. A Bible and your own turnip.
That makes all the difference.
-So you're going to be a good boy, then?
Would I lie to you?
Father Christmas forgot about me.
Oh, dear, don't be too unhappy. If you look very carefully there's something in this from me.
-It's something I made for you.
-That shows real love.
-What did you make for me?
-I've made you...
It's for hitting.
It's wonderful. You can use it again...and again...
-Well, what do you say?
-Thank you, Mr B.
Think nothing of it, Baldrick. I, after all, think nothing of you.
- Git-face, how about a penny?
Do I hear the voice of a cherub at the window?
-No, I must have imagined it.
-Shall I get that, sir?
-No, leave them out in the snow while I dress.
I'll only be 40 minutes.
Greetings! We have come to sing merrily and present you a small pudding.
# God bless Mr B and Baby Jesus, too.
# If we were little pigs, we'd sing piggy wiggy woo!
# Piggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy woo!
# Piggy wiggy woo! Oh, piggy wiggy wiggy woo! #
-Do we get our Christmas treat?
It's a door in the face!
Mr B, you can't send them out into the world with nothing but a small pudding.
How right. Door!
-You know what I'm hoping?
-I'm hoping this is just a jape and you'll go "yo ho ho" and give me a mince pie.
-Close your eyes.
Open your mouth.
Yo ho ho!
Millicent's here for dinner. She seems to have brought the fish course with her.
-Who is the huge halibut in the trousers?
-I think it's me.
This is Ralph. He's my fiance.
We're in love!
Oh, dear! Ill-conceived love is like a Christmas cracker.
One disappointing bang... and the novelty wears off.
Mr Blackadder, what's happened? You've changed from the nicest man in England to the worst in the world.
I was thinking the same myself.
When spoken to!
I would explain, but you wouldn't understand. You have a head emptier than a hermit's address book.
-As for you, can you keep my god-daughter in the manner to which she's accustomed?
Baldrick, go and buy a turkey so large you'd think its mother had been roger-ed by an omnibus.
I'm going to have a party just for me.
-No peace for the wicked.
Mr Ebenezer, I was wondering if perhaps you had a present for me,
or found me a little fowl for Christmas.
I've always found you FOUL, Mrs Scratchit.
-As for Christmas, Tiny Tom can stuff it up his enormous muscular backside.
-He's a cripple!
No, Mrs Scratchit, occasionally saying "my leg hurts" wouldn't even fool Baldrick.
It did, actually.
However, if you want something for lunch, take this. It's a pound of lump.
-What about my Tiny Tom?
-Scoop him out and use him as a houseboat!
Mr B... Where's the milk of human kindness?
It's gone off, Baldrick. It stinks.
Whoever it is, slam the door on them.
Hello, small dwarf. Is zis ze house of that all-round philanthropist, Blackadder?
-Mr Blackadder lives here.
-Das ist gut because we have a secret.
-If I told you we were going to give him a fortune, it would no longer be a secret.
Damn! I'm stupid!
-What wouldn't be a secret?
-WE are Queen Victoria.
-All three of you?
My dear little hobgoblin, here is our Royal Seal.
We have come to present your master with £50,000 and the title of Baron Blackadder
-for being the kindest man in England.
Why didn't you slam the door on the faces of these scroungers?
I'm not at home to guests.
-We are rather special guests, sir.
-Oh, of course! I must apologise.
It isn't often one gets a visit from two such distinguished guests.
-Zo you recognise us at last?
You're the winner of the Round-Britain Shortest, Fattest Dumpiest Woman competition.
-For her to be with the winner of the Stupidest Accent Award is remarkable.
Cork it, fatso!
This is the Victorian age where, apart from Queen Piglet-features, women should not be heard.
-Empress Oink, as the lads call her.
The only person in the kingdom dafter is that stupid Frankfurter.
The pig and the prig, we call them. How they produced their 112 children is beyond me.
-There must be blindfolds in the palace bedrooms.
-Sir, we've never been so insulted!
You've been damned lucky!
Baldrick, this is excellent.
All the spongers have gone and there's all this tuck to gobble.
Here, have a wishbone.
What do you wish?
I wish there was some meat on this.
I enjoyed the last two. It was like having a go at the real Queen.
-It WAS the real Queen.
-What would the Queen be doing here?
She came to reward you for being England's nicest man by giving you £50,000 and a title.
It couldn't have been the Queen. She leaves people her Royal Seal.
-Like this one?
-Yes, like th...