Motor Insurance Sketch
(A group of Gumbys shuffle into extreme left edge of frame. They do not move any further into the picture. After a bit of humming and harring:)
Gumbys: Oh! And the next item is a sketch about insurance called 'Insurance Sketch'. 'Insurance Sketch'. 'Insurance Sketch'...
(Cut to Mr Devious's insurance office. Devious and a man are sitting there.)
Devious (Michael Palin): What do you want?
Man (Graham Chapman): Well I've come about your special fully comprehensive motor insurance policy offer.
Devious: What was that?
Man: Fully comprehensive motor insurance for one-and-eightpence.
Devious: Oh, oh, yes, yeah well, unfortunately, guv, that offer's no longer valid. You see, it turned out not to be economically viable, so we now have a totally new offer.
Man: What's that?
Devious: A nude lady.
Man: A nude lady?
Devious: Yes. You get a nude lady with a fully comprehensive motor insurance. If you just want third party she has to keep her bra on, and if it's just theft...
Man: No, no, I don't really want that, Mr er... Mr...
Devious: Devious.
Man: Mr Devious, I just want to know what it would cost me to have a fully comprehensive insurance on a 1970 Aston Martin.
Devious: Aston Martin?
Man: Yes.
Devious: (quickly) Five hundred quid.
Man: Five hundred quid?
Devious: Forty quid.
Man: Forty quid?
Devious: Forty quid and a nude lady.
Man: No, no, I'm not interested in a nude lady.
Devious: Dirty books?
Man: No, no, look, I'm not interested in any of that. I just want to know what it would cost me to have a fully comprehensive insurance on a 1970 Aston Martin. Can you please quote me your price?
(Cut to outside the door of the office. A vicar stands there.)
Vicar (Eric Idle): Knock knock. (Cut to inside office)
Devious: Who's there?
(Cut to outside.)
Vicar: The Reverend.
(Cut to inside.)
Devious: The Reverend who?
Vicar: The Reverend Morrison.
(Cut to inside.)
Devious: Oh, come in.
(The vicar enters.)
Devious: Now then, vic. What's the trouble?
Vicar: Well, it's about this letter you sent me.
Man: Excuse me, do I have any more lines?
Devious: I don't know, mush, I'll have a look in the script. (he gets script out of drawer) Where are we? Show 8. Are you 'man'?
Man: Yeah.
Devious: No, no, you've finished.
Man: Well, I'll be off then. (he leaves)
Devious: (reading script) 'The vicar sits'.
(The vicar sits.)
Vicar:' It's about this letter you sent me regarding my insurance claim.
Devious: Oh, yeah, yeah - well, you see, it's just that we're not, as yet, totaly satisfied with the grounds of your claim.
Vicar: But it says something about filling my mouth in with cement.
Devious: Oh well, that's just insurance jargon, you know.
Vicar: But my car was hit by a lorry while standing in the garage and you refuse to pay my claim.
Devious: (rising and crossing to a filing cabinet) Oh well, Reverend Morrison, in your policy... in your policy... (he opens the drawer of the filing cabins and takes out a shabby old sports jacket; he feels in the pocket and pulls out a crumpled dog-eared piece of paper then puts the coat back and shuts the filing cabinet).... here we are. It states quite clearly that no claim you make will be paid.
Vicar: Oh dear.
Devious: You see, you unfortunately plumped for our 'Neverpay' policy, which, you know, if you never claim is very worthwhile, but you had to claim, and, well, there it is.
Vicar: Oh dear, oh dear.
Devious: Still, never mind - could be worse. How's the nude lady?
Vicar: Oh, she's fine. (he begins to sob)
Devious: Look Rev, I hate to see a man cry, so shove off out' office. There's a good chap.
(The vicar goes out sobbing. Cut to outside. Vicar collects a nude lady sitting in a supermarket shopping trolley and wheels her disconsolately away. Cut back to inside of office. Close-up on Devious. He gets out some files and starts writing. Suddenly a bishop's crook slams down on the desk in front of Devious. He looks up - his eyes register terror. Cut to reverse angle shot from below. The bishop in full mitre and robes.)
Bishop: OK, Devious, Don't move!
Devious: The bishop!
Continue to the next sketch... The Bishop