Blackadder's Christmas Carol

Synopsis: Edmund Blackadder and Baldrick his dogsbody are transplanted this time to Dickensian England in this one-off episode. He is kind, gentle and caring, but visits from an assortment of ghosts soon have him back to his old ways.
 
IMDB:
8.0
Year:
1988
43 min
1,801 Views


Blackadder, Blackadder...

In the reign of good Queen Vic,

there stood, in Dumpling Lane

in Old London Town,

the moustache shop

of one Ebenezer Blackadder,

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! Humbug!

- Humbug, Mr Baldrick?

- Oh, thank you very much.

I 've got all the presents.

And I 've nearly finished the Christmas cards.

Splendid, let me see.

"A very messy Christmas."

Sorry, Mr Baldrick, shouldn't that be "merry"?

"A merry messy Christmas"?

All right, but it must be "messy".

Messy cake, soggy pudding,

big wet kisses under the mistletoe.

Yes... I fear, Mr Baldrick,

the only way you'd get a big wet kiss

at Christmas,

or any other time,

is to make a pass at a water closet.

Be that as it may... "A merry messy Christmas."

"Christmas" has an "H" in it, Mr Baldrick.

And an "R".

Also an "I" and an "S", also a "T",

an "M", an "A" and another "S".

And you've missed out the "C".

Congratulations, Mr Baldrick, a triumph.

You're the first to spell Christmas

without getting a single letter right.

I was a bit rushed. I've been helping out

with the workhouse nativity play.

- How did it go?

- Not very well

At the last moment, the baby playing Jesus died.

Oh, dear, this high

infant mortality rate's a real devil

when it comes to staging

quality children's theatre.

- What did you do?

- Got another Jesus.

Thank goodness. His name?

Spot.

There weren't any more children,

so we had to settle for a dog.

I'm not convinced that Christianity

would've established

its firm grip over the hearts of mankind

if all Jesus ever said was "Woof!!"'

It went all right till the shepherds came on.

We weren't able to get real sheep,

so we stuck some wool...

..on some other dogs.

Yeah, and the moment Jesus

got a whiff of 'em, he's away.

While the angel's singing

"Peace on Earth, goodwill to mankind",

Jesus scampers across and tries

to get a sheep to give him a piggyback.

Scarcely appropriate behaviour

for the son of God, Mr Baldrick.

- Weren't the children upset?

- No, they loved it.

Oh, the playful young scamps, eh?

Still what a lovely thought it is,

at this moment, all over the country,

from highest to lowest,

through those charming plump folk

somewhere in the middle,

everyone is enjoying Christmas.

- What are you doing, Albert?

- Nothing.

Oh, yes, you are,

you naughty German sausage!

- Tell me what you're doing.

- Nothing!

When you're busy ruling India,

you don't tell me what you're doing.

Why should I tell you when I am busy

wrapping this cushion

for your surprise Christmas present?

Dem! Now I have only

two surprise presents for you.

Oh, dear Alby, don't worry, I don't mind.

I do. I love surprises.

Christmas without surprises

is like the nuts without the nutcracker.

Which is why I have brought you

this surprise nutcracker...

Dem! Dem!

Darling Bobo, don't worry.

Besides, haven't you forgotten something?

- What?

- Our traditional Christmas adventure.

Yes, of course, the traditional

Christmas adventure! Huzzah!

What traditional Christmas adventure?

You silly soldier!

When we disguise ourselves as common folk

and go amongst the people

to reward the virtuous and the good.

Yes, of course, Dummkopf,

how could I forget!

Das ist nicht ausgezeichnet!

It is precisely for such an outing

that I have bought you my final surprise present,

this muff, which I'm going to give you tomorrow...

Dem! Dem! Dem!

Excellent! What a splendid spread!

Nuts, turkey and presents.

What more could one desire at Christmas?

Well a tree.

Of course, I quite forgot.

I dropped in on Mr Thicktwistle's

Garden Emporium

and, I think you'll agree, got quite a bargain

on this special Christmas twig.

- It's a bit of a tiddler, ain't it?

- 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.

- How much is it?

- 17 and a penny.

It'd be lots more if you didn't

give so much to the poor.

Yes, but in the feeling good

ledger of life, we are rich indeed.

I wish we weren't doing so well

in the short-of-pressies-gullible-prat ledger.

Well bless my ten toes,

who could that be on this cold night?

Ah, Mrs Scratchit, greetings

on this merry Yuletide Eve.

Oh, Mr Blackadder!

How can I be merry when we're so poor

we'll have nothing to eat on Christmas Day,

except what Grandfather can scrape

from under his big toenails?

No goose for Tiny Tom this year!

Mrs Scratchit, Tiny Tom is 15 stone

and built like a brick privy.

If he eats any more heartily,

he will turn into a pie shop.

Dear me! There must be something we can do.

Ah, that box of matches

in your basket is just the thing I need.

- How much?

- A quid a match.

Mrs Scratchit, I suspect that to be a lie of sorts.

Oh, but it's Christmas Eve, so, here, take 10.

So you don't want all the matches, then?

There's 17 of 'em.

You have the body of a weak woman,

but the mind of a criminal genius.

- Here, 17 pounds, then.

- Lovely!

And my best wishes to your massive offspring!

So we had 17 and a penny,

and we give Mrs Scratchit 17, so that leaves...

Yes, come on, Mr Baldrick,

17 and a penny, minus 17 leaves...

38, eight shillings and fourpence.

Not bad, Mr Baldrick. The answer is,

in fact, a splendid shining penny.

Merry Christmas Eve,

Mr Slackbladder...I mean, Blackadder.

And to you, young urchin.

A penny for Christmas cheer, sucker...I mean, sir.

Erm, well..

Certainly, here.

Going to buy some cake

for your silver-haired mother?

Nah, sod that! I'm off to the gin shop.

They grow up so fast these days, bless 'em.

Oh, well another year without profit.

Still it is Christmas.

And let us remember, Mr Baldrick,

that be we as stony as a biblical execution,

it's still the season of good cheer

and we have our Christmas treats.

Nuts, turkey and presents.

And my goddaughter, Millicent.

Secure the ornaments and let her in.

So we put all our presents under our little tree.

A scarf for me, a pair of gloves

for Mr Baldrick and a hat for Millicent.

Ah, Millicent, to what do I owe

this excellent pleasure?

I just thought I'd pop round,

you know, on the off chance.

Christmas is a time traditionally

connected with presents.

It is indeed. And look, a lovely hat

for my dear goddaughter.

Oh, thanks. And look! A scarf

and a pair of gloves to match!

That's not bad, I suppose.

- Jolly good.

- Sorry I can't stop.

I thought I might come back

tomorrow at lunch time.

Splendid idea!

It'll just be little me and my teensy boyfriend,

so cook two extra turkeys.

Thanks for all the pressies.

Why don't you take the flippin' tree??!

Oh, you are sweet!

Bye!

Bye. My, what a jolly young girl!

Pity she nicked all the presents.

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Richard Curtis

Richard Whalley Anthony Curtis, CBE (born 8 November 1956) is a New Zealand-born English screenwriter, producer and film director. One of Britain's most successful comedy screenwriters, he is known primarily for romantic comedy films such as Four Weddings and a Funeral, Bridget Jones's Diary, Notting Hill, and Love Actually, as well as the hit sitcoms Blackadder, Mr. Bean and The Vicar of Dibley. He is also the co-founder of the British charity Comic Relief along with Lenny Henry. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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