(In BA’s quarters; Edmund is on the phone)
Edmund: You’d like to book a table for three by the window for 9.30 PM, not too near the band, in the name of über-loytnant Fungentula.
Yes, yes, I think you might have the wrong number. Alright.
(hangs up; enter George)
George: Rather close line there, eh sir? That phone system is a shambles no wonder we haven’t had any orders!
Edmund: Oh, on the contrary, George, we’ve had plenty of orders. We have orders for six meters of Hungarian crushed velvet curtain material, four rock salmon and a ha’pence of chips and a cab for a Mr. Redgrave picking up from 14 Arnost Grove, ring top bell.
George: Rather we don’t want those sort of orders, we want orders to Deck Old Glory. When are we going to give Fritz a taste of our British spunk?
Edmund: George, please. No one is more anxious to advance than I am, but until I get these communication problems sorted out, I’m afraid we’re stuck.
(phone rings) Captain Blackadder speaking…..no, I’m afraid the line’s very cclllffffhhtttt!
Darling: Hello? Hello, Captain Blackadder, hello?
(a German accent pops up; really Edmund. He rustles paper, pretending the reception’s lousy.)
Edmund: Schnell, schnell, Kartoffelkopf, I said, there’s a terrible line at my end. You are to advance on the enemy at once. (puts on a record)
"A wandering minstral eye in the…(record goes off, Edmund speaks) ..on Gail Force Eight.
George: I say, come on, sir, what’s the message? I’m on tenderhooks, do tell!
Edmund: Well, as far as I can tell, the message was, "he’s got a terrible lion up his end, so there’s an advantage to an enema at once."
Baldrick: Message from HQ, sir.
George: Ah, now, this should be it. A telegram ordering an advance!
Edmund: Ummm yes, I’m afraid not, George, it is a telegram, it is ordering
an advance, but it seems to be addressed to ‘Catpain Blackudder’. Do
you know a ‘Catpain Blackudder’, George?
George: Well, it rings a bell, but I..
Edmund: Ouhh…..nope, me neither. (throws message away)
George: Oh well.
Edmund: Go away George, I’m sure if they want to contact us, they’ll find a
Baldrick: Speaking, sir, speaking, there’s a pigeon in our trench!
George: Ah, now, this’ll be it! (goes outside) Yes, it’s one of the King’s
(all go outside)
Baldrick: No, it isn’t, that pigeon couldn’t carry the King! Hasn’t got a
tray or anything.
Edmund: Hands, revolver please.
George: Oh now, sir, you really shouldn’t do this you know!
Edmund: Come on George, with 50,000 men getting killed a week who’s going to
miss a pigeon? (shoots the pigeon dead)
George: Well, not you, obviously, sir.
Edmund: In any case, its’s scarcely a court martial offence. Get plucking,
Baldrick: Alright, sir. Look, it’s got a little ring ’round it’s leg, there’s
George: Oh really, is there a paper hat as well?
Baldrick: No, but there’s a joke. Read it out, sir.
George: It’s a bit charred. Something something at once..PS, due to communi-
cation crisis, the shooting of carrier pigeons is now a court-martial
offence. I don’t see what’s so funny about that, sir.
Edmund: That’s not funny, it’s deadly serious, we’re in trouble. So, I shall
eat the evidence for lunch and if anyone asks you any questions at all,
we didn’t receive any messages and we definitely did not shoot this
plump breasted pigeon.
(at BA’s quarters…Edmund just had the pigeon for lunch.)
(enter Melchett and Darling)
Melchett: Eahy, Blackadder!
Melchett: And why, Captain, are you not advancing across No Man’s Land?
Edmund: Well, sir, call me a bluffo traditionalist, but I was always taught to
wait for the order to attack before attacking.
Melchett: Are you trying to tell me you haven’t received any orders? What the
hell are you playing at, Darling?
Darling: That’s a flagrant lie, sir. I spoke to Blackadder less than an hour
Edmund: Yes you did. To tell me some gobbledygook about having a lion up your
Melchett: Umm…I thought it’s the old communications problem again. Stand easy.
Action on this is imperative, take that down, Darling.
use it more often in conversation.
Darling: I must say sir, I find this all very unlikely. Not only did I tele-
phone Blackadder, but as you’ll recall, we sent him a telegram and
a carrier pigeon.
Edmund: Did you?
Darling: Are you telling us you haven’t had a pigeon, Blackadder?
Jim", my only true love who’s been with me since I was a nipper!
And to business, I’m giving you your order to advance now. Syncronise
watches gentlemen. Private, what is the time?
Baldrick: We didn’t receive any messages and Captain Blackadder definitely did
not shoot the delicious plump breasted pigeon, sir.
Edmund: You want to be cremated, Baldrick or buried at sea?
Baldrick: (thinking it over) Umm….
Darling: Do you mind answering a couple of questions?
George: Not at all, sir. We didn’t get any messages and Blackadder definitely
did not shoot this delicious plump breasted pigeon.
Darling: And look sir, pigeon feathers. White feathers very apt, eh Blackadder?
Melchett: White feathers?
Baldrick: Oh no, sir, that’s gobbleijuke! They’re not white, they’re sort of
Melchett: (shocked) Speckly?! AAHHHHHHHH! YOU SHOT MY SPECKLED JIM???
Darling: You’re for it now, Blackadder. Quite frankly sir, I’ve suspected this
for some time. Quite clearly, Captain Blackadder has been disobeying
orders with a breathtaking impertinence.
Melchett: I don’t care if he’s been watering the Duke of York with a prize-
winning leak! He shot my pigeon! (screams) AAAHH AHHHH OOOHHHH!
Darling: Take it easy. I think we should do this by the book, sir.
Melchett: Yes, yes, you’re right, of course. I’m sorry. Attention!
Darling: (drums are heard in the background) Captain Blackadder, as of this
moment you may consider yourself under arrest. You know what the
penalty is for disobeying orders, Blackadder?
Edmund: Umm..court-martial, followed by immediate cessation of chocolate
Darling: No, court-martial followed by immediate death by firing squad.
Edmund: Oh, so I got it half right.
(at the cell)
Perkins: (Edmund’s guard) Sadder than a happy hour then, sir? Wave all our
Edmund: Oh, no need for that, Perkins, I’ll just dash off a couple of notes,
one asking for a sponge bag, and the other sending for my lawyer.
Perkins: Oh, your lawyer now, yes sir. Don’t you think that might be a bit
of a waste of money, sir.
Edmund: Not when he’s the finest mind in English legal history. Ever heard
of Bob Mattingburg?
Perkins: Oh, yes indeed, sir! A most gifted gentleman!
Edmund: I remember Mattingburg’s most famous case, the case of the bloody knife.
A man was found next to a murdured body, he had the knife in his hand,
thirteen witnesses that seen him stab the victim, when the police
arrived he said, "I’m glad I killed the bastard." Mattingburg not
only got him off, but he got him knighted in the New Year’s Honors
list, and the relatives of the victim had to pay to have the blood
washed out of his jacket.
Perkins: There is a job under the prosecution involved, sir.
Edmund: Yes, well, look at Oscar Wilde.
Perkins: Oh, butch, Oscar.
Edmund: A big, bearded, bonking, butch Oscar. The terror of the ladies. 114
illegitamate children, world heavyweight boxing champion, and author
of the best-selling phamplet, "Why I Like To Do It With Girls".
Mattingburg had him sent down for being a whoopsie. (enter Baldrick)
Ah, Baldrick. Anything from Mattingburg yet?
Baldrick: Yes, sir. It just arrived, sir.
Edmund: What is it?
Baldrick: Sponge bag, sir.
Edmund: A sponge bag.
Edmund: Baldrick, I gave you two notes. You sent the note asking for a sponge
bag to the finest mind in English legal history.
Baldrick: Certianly did, sir!
Edmund: And you sent the note requesting legal representation to…
George: Well, tally-ho, with a bing and a bong and a buzz-buzz-buzz! (THUMP!)
Edmund: (digustingly, as we’ve all heard before) Oh God!
George: I’ll tell you, apart from all, sir, that I am deeply, deeply honored.
Edmund: Baldrick, I’ll deal you later. Am I to understand that you are going to
represnt me at the court-martial?
George: Absolutly, sir. Well, it’s a sort of family tradition, really. My
uncle’s a lawyer, you know.
Edmund: Your uncle’s a lawyer, but you’re not.
George: Oh, good lord, no. I’m absolute duffer at this sort of thing. In
school the basing society, I was voted the boy least likley to complete
a coherent…um…an oops…yes, anyway, my dear old friend, its an
honor to serve.
Edmund: George, I’m in trouble here. I need to construct thats as watertight
as a mermaid’s brassiere. I’m not sure your particular brand of
mindless optimism is going to contribute much to the proceedings.
George: Well, that’s a shame, sir, becarse I was planning on playing the
mindless optimisim card very strongly.
Edmund: I beg your pardon?
George: Yes, I’ve already planned my closing address based on that very thing.
Oh, go on, let him off, your honor, please! It’s a lovely day. Pretty
clouds, trees, birds, etc. I rest my case.
Edmund: So, council, with that summing up in mind, what do you think my chances
George: Well, not all that good I’m afraid, as far as I can tell you’re as
guilty as a puppy sitting next to a pile of poo.
(in the court room; Edmund’s trial is taking place)
George: (walking in) Crikey! So sorry I’m late, my luv.
A voice: ‘allo.
George: But anyway, let me open up my defence straight away, by saying that
I’ve known this man for three years, he’s an absolutely gawking chap.
George: Yes, sir?
Edmund: That’s the clerk of the court.
George: Is it? Oh!
Edmund: We haven’t started yet.
Darling: Good luck, Blackadder.
Edmund: Well, thank you, Darling. And what’s your big job here today?
Darling: No, in fact I’m appearing for the prosecution. I wouldn’t raise your
hopes too much, you’re guilty as hell, you haven’t got a chance.
Edmund: Why thank you, Darling. And I hope your mother dies in a freak
Darling: Just doing my job, Blackadder.
Edmund: Obeying orders, and of course, having enormous fun into the bargain.
I wouldn’t be too confident if I were you, any reasonably impartial
judge is bound to let me off.
Darling: Well, absolutely.
Edmund: Who is the judge, by the way?
Melchett: (boldly) Me!
Edmund: I’m dead.
Melchett: Well, come on, then. Come on. Get this over in five minutes, and
then we can have a spot of lunch. (some noise from the others) The
court is now in session, General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmenay Melchett
in the chair. The case before us is that of the crown vs. Captain
Edmund Blackadder, the flanderous pigeon murderer! Oh, uh hand me
the black cap, I’ll be needing that.
Edmund: I love a fair trial.
Melchett: Anything to say before we kick off, Captain Darling?
Darling: May it please the court, as this is clearly an open and shut case, I
beg leave to bring a privete prosecution against the defence council
for wasting the court’s time.
Melchett: Granted. Council, he is fined fifty pounds for turning up. This is
fun! This is just like a real court! Alright! Let the trial begin!
The chagre before us is that the flanderous pigeon murderer did de-
liberately, callously, and with beastliness of forethought murder a
lovely, innocent pigeon. And disobeyed some orders as well.
Is this true?
George: Perfectly true, sir. I was there.
Edmund: Thanks George.
George: Oh, dammit.
Melchett: Right. Council for the defence, get on with it.
George: Oh, right, yes, right. Um, yes. I’d like to call my first witness
Melchett: You wish to call the council for the prosecution as a defence
George: That’s right. (aside) Don’t worry, sir, I’ve got it all under control.
You are Captain Darling of the general staff?
Darling: I am.
George: Captain, leaving aside the incident in question, would you think of
Captain Blackadder as the sort of man that would usually ignore orders?
Darling: Yes, I would.
George: Ah, um. You sure? I was rather banking on you saying no.
Darling: I’m sure. In fact, I have a list of other orders he’s disobeyed,
if it would be useful. November 16th, 9:15am, 10:23am, 10:24am,
George: You missed one out, there.
Darling: …10:30am, 11:46am…
George: What? Oh, oh ye-ye-right, yes. Thank you, Captain. No further
Edmund: Well done, George. You really had him on the ropes.
George: Don’t worry, old man. I have a last and I think you’ll find decisive
witness. Call Private Baldrick.
Edmund: (to Baldrick) Deny everything, Baldrick.
George: Are you Private Baldrick?
George: Um, but you are Captain Balckadder’s batman?
George: Come on, Baldrick. Be a bit more helpful, it’s me!
Baldrick: No it isn’t!
Darling: Sir, I must protest!
Melchett: Quite right! We don’t need your kind here, Private. Get out.
Sum up, please.
George: Oh, right, yes, uhhhh, oh…..Uh, gentlemen, you have heard all the
evidence presented here today, but in the end it is up to the
conscience of your hearts to decide, and I firmly belive, that like
me, you will conclude that Captain Blackadder is in fact, totally
and utterly, GUILTY……of nothing more than trying to do his duty
under difficult circumstances.
Melchett: Nonsence! He’s a hound and a rutter, and he’s going to be shot!
However, before we proceed to the formality of sentancing the
deceased, I mean the defendant, (laughs) I think we’d all rather
enjoy the case of the prosecution. Captain Darling, if you please.
Darling: Sir, my case is very simple. I call my first witness, General Sir
Anthony Cecil Hogmaney Melchett.
Melchett: Ah..umm! (goes up to the stand)
George: Clever, clever.
Darling: General, did you own a lovely, plump, speckily pigeon called Speckled
Jim, which you hand reared from a chick and which was your only
Melchett: (hysterical) Yes! (calmer) Yes, I did.
Darling: And did Captain Blackadder shoot the aforementioned pigeon?
Melchett: Yes, he did!
Darling: (shouts) Can you see Captain Blackadder anywhere in this courtroom?
Melchett: (overwrought, pointing his finger at Edmund) YES, THAT’S HIM!!!
THAT’S THE MAN!!!!! AAHHHHH AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Darling: No more questions, sir.
Melchett: Very good, excellent, first class. Carry on. I therefore have ab-
solutely no hesitation in announcing that the sentence of this
court is: that you Captain Edmund Blackadder be taken from this
place and shot to death by shooting tommorrow at dawn. (bangs
gavel). Do you have anything to say?
Edmund: Yes, can I have an alarm call, please?
(at the cell)
Perkins: Someone to see the Captain?
Edmund: What does he look like?
Perkins: Short, ugly…
Edmund: Hello Baldrick.
Baldrick: I brought you some food, sir, for your final breakfast tommorrow.
Edmund: Ah, so you’re not pinning much hope on a last minute reprieve then.
Baldrick: No sir, you are as dead as some doo-doos.
Edmund: The expression, Baldrick, is ‘as a do-do’. ‘Dead as a do-do’.
Perkins: Well, I’ll leave you to it then, shall I? (leaves)
Baldrick: Do not despair, sir. All my talk of food was jsut a dead herring.
In fact, I have a cunning plan. This is not food, but an escape
Edmund: Good Lord! A saw, a hammer, a chisel, a gun, a change of clothes,
a Swiss passport, and a huge false moustache, I may just stand a
Edmund: Let’s see, what have we here? A small painted wooden duck.
Baldrick: Yeah, I thought if you get caught near water, you can balance
it on the top of your head as a brillaint disguise.
Edmund: Yeeeesss, I would, of course, have to escape first. Ah, but what’s
this, unless I’m much mistaken, a hammer and a chisel?
Baldrick: You *are* much mistaken!
Edmund: A pencil and a miniature trumpet.
Baldrick: Yes, a pencil so you can drop me a postcard to tell me how the break
out went and a small little tiny miniature trumpet in case during
your escape, you have to win favour with a difficult child.
Edmund: Baldrick, I don’t want to spend my last precious hours rummaging
through this feeble collection of stocking-fillers. Now let me ask
you some simple questions: is there are a saw in this bag?
Edmund: A hammer?
Edmund: A chisel?
Edmund: A gun?
Edmund: A false passport?
Baldrick: (thinks) No.
Edmund: A change of clothes?
Baldrick: Yes sir, of course I wouldn’t forget a change of clothes.
Edmund: Ah, now that’s something, let’s see…..a Robin Hood costume.
Baldrick: I put in a French peasant’s outfit first, but then I thought
‘What if you arrive in a French peasant’s village and they’re
in the middle of a fancy dress party?’
Edmund: And what if I arrive in a French peasant village, dressed in a
Robin Hood costume and there *isn’t* a fancy dress party?
Baldrick: Well, to be quite frank sir, I didn’t consider that eventuality,
because if you did, you’d stick out like a…..
Edmund: (interrupting) Like a man standing in a lake with a small painted
wooden duck on his head?
Perkins: Excuse me, sir.
Edmund: Alright. Aaahhmm, thank you, Baldrick, we’ll finish this picnic
Baldrick: (rather loudly) YUM YUM! (exits)
Perkins: Do you mind if I disturb you for a moment, sir?
Edmund: No, no, not at all. My diary’s pretty empty this week. Let’s see,
Thursday morning, get shot, yes, that’s about it, actually.
Perkins: It’s just there’s a few chaps out here would like a bit of a chinwag.
Edmund: Oh, loveley. Always keen to meet new poeple.
Perkins: Corpral Jones and Privates Spacer, Robinson, and Tipperwick
Edmund: Oh, nice of you to drop by. And what do you do?
Leader: We’re your firing squad, sir.
Edmund: Of course you are.
Squad man 2: Good sized chest.
Leader: Shut up, lad.
Squad man 2: Sir!
Leader: You see, us firing squads are a bit like taxmen, sir, everyone hates
us, but we’re just doin’ our job, ‘aven’t we, sir?
Edmund: My heart bleeds for you.
Leader: Well, sir, we aim to please. Just a little firing squad joke there,
sir! You see, sir, we take pride in the termanatory service we
supply. So, is there any particular area you’d like us to go for, hmm?
We can aim anywhere.
Edmund: Well, in that case, just above my head might be a good spot.
Leader: You see, a laugh and a smile, and all of a sudden the job doesn’t seem
quite so bad after all, does it sir?
Squad man 2: No, and a lovely roomy forehead.
Squad man 3: A good pulse and jugular, there as well.
Edmund: Look, I’m sorry, I know you mean to be friendly, but I hope you won’t
take it amiss if I ask you to sod off and die.
Leader: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, fair enough, ‘course not, sir. No one
likes being shot first thing in the morning, do they? No, no, no,
So, look foreward to seeing you tomorow, sir. You’ll have a blindfold
on of course, but you’ll recognize me. I’m the one that says, "Ready,
Edmund: Can I ask you to leave a pause between the word "aim" and the word
"fire"? Thirty or forty years, perhaps?
Leader: Ahh, wish I could pause, sir. I really wish I could, but I can’t, you
see, cos I’m a tabler, you see.
(lots of inaudible lines, sorry)
(Firing Squad leaves)
Edmund: Perfect! I wonder if anything on earth could depress me more?
Baldrick: Excuse me, sir?
Edmund: Of course it could.
Baldrick: I forgot to give you this letter from Lieutenant George, sir.
Edmund: (sarcastically) Ahh! Oh, joy! What wise words from the world’s
greatest defence counsel. (reads letter) ‘Dear Mother,’……un-
usual start, (continues) ‘thanks for the case of Scotch.’ You’ve
excelled yourself, Baldrick. You’ve brought the worng letter again!
Baldrick: Ohh yeah, he did write two.
Edmund: Yes, his mother’s about to get a note, telling her he’s sorry she’s
going to be shot in the morning…..while *I* have to read this
drivel. (reads further) ‘Count Celia thrives in the Pony Club trials
and that little Freddy scores a century for the first eleven’. (aside)
You can’t deny, it’s a riveting read…uhhh, ‘Send my love to Uncle
Rupert’, (aside) who’d have thought it, Mad Uncle Rupert, Minister of
War. Power of life or death over every bally soldier in the army.
Hang on a minute…..this is it! All George has to do is send him a
telegram and he’ll get me off. (in a pleasant tone) Baldrick, I love
you! I want to kiss your cherry lips and nibble your shell-like ears.
(at BA’s quarters, George is moping)
George: I’m useless, useless!
Baldrick: Sir, sir!
George: Hello Private, how’s the Captain?
Baldrick: He’s absolutely fine, sir, but..
George: uhh, you’re just trying to cheer me up. I know the truth. He hates
me cos I completely arsed up his defence.
Baldrick: Yes, I know, sir, but..
George: I’m thick, you see. I’m as thick as the big-print version of The Com-
plete Works of Charles Dickens. If only I could’ve saved him. If only!
Baldrick: But you *can*, sir.
George: What, how?
Baldrick: You send a telegram.
George: Of course! I send a telegram.
George: Who to?
Baldrick: To the person in the letter.
George: What letter?
Baldrick: To your mother.
George: I send a telegram to my mother?!
Baldrick: You send a telegram to the person in the letter to your mother.
George: Who was in the letter to my mother?
Baldrick: I can’t remember!
George: Well, think, think!
Baldrick: No, you think think!
George: Well, I ahh…Stay here, of course, the Pony Club Trials. Yes! See
here, they can leap over the walls over the prison and save him.
Baldrick: No, no!
George: No, no, ahhhmm. Yes, cricket. Yes, I’ve got Cousin Freddie, of
course. He can knock out the firing squad with his cricket bat.
Baldrick: No, there’s someone else!
George: (excited) Oh well, who!?
Baldrick: I don’t know.
George: Well, neither do I!
Baldrick: Well, think!
George: You think!
Baldrick: You think that!
(both continue arguement, then….)
George: No, it hasn’t helped.
Baldrick: Yes it has, sir. Your Uncle Rupert who’s just been made Minister
George: Of course. Uncle Rupert shall be made Minister of War. Baldrick,
I’ll, I’ll send him a telegram and he’ll, he’ll pull strings and
scratch backs and fiddle with nobs, and….
George: Well, I got there in the end, eh Baldrick?
Baldrick: Oh, just about, sir.
George: Ah, I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you? What about a
toss of old Morehen’s Shredded Sporum, which Mum has just sent over?
I drink a toast, don’t you, to Captain Blackadder and freedom!
Baldrick: Captain Blackadder and Freedom, sir.
(outside, where Edmund is to be executed; Dawn, a cock crows)
Firing Squad (all): ‘Morning.
Perkins: I must say, Captain, I’ve got to admire your balls.
Edmund: Prehaps later. (to Firing Squad) How are you doing?
All: Very well, good.
Edmund: Robinson, good to see you.
Robinson: Good to see you, too, sir.
Edmund: Ahh, Corporal, how’s the voice?
Corporal (referred to as Leader in an earlier scene): Excellent, sir.
Edmund: So the phone’s on the hook, is it Perkins?
Perkins: Oh yes, sir.
Edmund: So, where do you want me?
Corporal: Well, up against the wall is traditional, sir.
Edmund: Course it is. Ah…this side or the other side? (all laugh)
No messengers waiting, Perkins?
Perkins: Oh, I’m afraid not, sir. Oh well.
Corporal: Alright, lads, line up.
Edmund: Yes, uahh…now look, I think there might have been a bit of a mis-
understanding, you see. I was expecting a telegram.
Edmund: Quite an imporant one, actually.
Corporal: TAKE AIM!
A voice: Stop!
Edmund: I think that’s what they call ‘the nick of time’.
Voice: Letter for the Captain.
Edmund: Of course it is. Read it please.
Voice: Eh, ‘here’s looking at you. Love from all the boys in the firing squad.’
Corporal: You soft bastards, you!
Squad Man 2: After all we’ve got, I couldn’t resist it.
Edmund: (sarcastically) How thoughtful!
Edmund: Now look, ah, something has gone spectacularly badly wrong.
Corporal: TAKE AIM!
Edmund: Baldrick, you’re mincemeat!
(at BA’s quarters)
George: (awaking) Oh, my head! Ah, my head! Feels like the time I was initiated
into teh Silly Buggers society at Cambridge. I misheard the rules and
push a whole oberjing into my earhole.
Baldrick: Permission to die, sir.
George: Oh! Bu-bu-bu-what started this drinking? Oh, yes, well,we were cele-
brating getting Captain Blackadder off scot…(realises it’s too late)
free. Oh my sainted trousers, we forgot!
Baldrick: Oh whoops.
George: Oh no. He’s dead, you see. He’s dead dead dead because we’re a pair of
selfish so and so’s….(despairingly) oh, course, if I have a rope, I’d
put it around my neck and bally well hanged myself until it really hurt.
(Edmund walks in)
Edmund: Hi, George, ‘morning, Baldrick. Still the striking resemblence to guppie
fish at feeding time. Yep, it arrived in the nick of time.
George: Oh, excellent!
Edmund: Ah, so you’ve got the Scotch out, haven’t we?
George: Oh, well, well, of course, sir, yes. We wanted to lay on a bit of a
bash for your safe return, ah..here you go. (gives Edmund a drink,
Edmund: There was a second telegram that arrived actually George, addressed
personally to you by your Uncle.
George: Oh, thank you, I….(tries to get letter from Edmund, who opens and
Edmund: (reads) ‘George, my boy, Outraged to read in dispatches how that ass
Melchett made such a pig-ear out of your chum Blackadder’s court-mar-
tial. Have reversed the decision forthwith. Surprised you didn’t ask
me to do it yourself, actually.’ Now this is interesting, isn’t it?
George: Uh, uhh, yes, well, I, you see, sir. Uh..the thing is..
Edmund: You two got whammed last night, didn’t you?
George: We–well, well, no, uh, uh. not whammed exactly. A little tiddly, perhaps.
Edmund: And you forgot the telegram to your Uncle!
George: Well, n–n–n-no. Not, not, not completely. Partially, umm….Well yes, yes. Entirely.
Baldrick: I think I can explain, sir.
Edmund: Can you, Baldrick?
Baldrick: (pause) No.
Edmund: As I suspected. Now, I’m not a religious man, as you know. Henceforth, I shall nightly pray to the God, who killed Cain and squashed Sampson, that He comes out of retirement and gets back into practice on the pair of you!
(phone rings; Edmund answers it)
Edmund: Captain Blackadder. Ah, Captain Darling. Well, you know, some of us just have friends in high places, I suppose. Yes, I can hear you perfectly. You want what? You want two volunteers for a mission into No Man’s Land, Code name: Operation Certain Death. yes, yes I think I have just the fellows. (hangs up; to George and Baldrick) God is *very* quick these days.