Carry On... Up the Khyber Page #5

Synopsis: Sir Sidney Ruff-Diamond looks after the British outpost near the Khybar pass. Protected by the kilted Third Foot and Mouth regiment, you would think they were safe. But the Khazi of Kalabar has other ideas. He wants all the British dead! But his troops fear the "skirted-devils"; they are rumoured not to wear anything underneath. Then one is caught with his pants on...
Genre: Adventure, Comedy
Director(s): Gerald Thomas
Production: J. Arthur Rank Productions
 
IMDB:
6.9
NOT RATED
Year:
1968
88 min
1,397 Views


What do I do now?

Just say you want to see the Khasi

and leave the rest to us.

- (Cuckoo!)

- Ahh!

- Yes?

- I want to see the Khasi and leave the rest to us.

(Shouts in own language)

What did he say?

Hatch-a-maza Khasi, shove me up the Ganges!

Here we go!

Yahoo!

MACNUTT:
Cor!

Ah, gentlemen, you are welcome.

We have been expecting you.

But, please... put your swords up.

That's tempting.

We offer you only friendship here.

- You do?

- Of course.

His Highness the Khasi will see you later,

but, in the meantime,

I offer you the hospitality of my humble dwelling.

(Clicks fingers) Woman!

(Belcher groans)

Please, go with the women.

Refresh yourselves.

Ask for anything you desire.

Deny yourselves nothing.

It must be a trap.

WIDDLE:
Cor!

Let's walk into it.

That's enough, Widdle!

But if you care for me to go ahead with her and...

- reconnoitre the situation, sir...

- No, thank you, Sergeant Major.

We must stick together whatever we do.

Follow me.

Well, sir?

- Well, it looks all right.

- All right?!

Why, it's fairyland!

We await your pleasure, masters.

Pleasure? The idea!

MACNUTT:
Er... What do we do, sir?

Men, we mustn't forget we came here

with a definite objective.

To get that photograph.

MACNUTT:
Oh, you're absolutely right, sir.

On the other hand, we er...

we don't want to rush into anything.

Oh! Oh, you're absolutely right, sir.

So, perhaps it would be advisable

for us to stay here for a bit.

Stay here for a bit?!

Are you suggesting we remain and indulge

ourselves in er... whatever's going on?

We have no alternative, Mr Belcher.

But these are women of pleasure!

Do you expect me, a missionary,

to lend myself to such carryings on?

My job is to save fallen women.

I realise that, Mr Belcher.

Good. Save me the one with the big earrings.

Enough, Jelhi.

The chiefs have arrived

and are enjoying my hospitality.

Excellent. When they have been surfeited,

- they should be easily persuaded.

- You have the photograph?

Not yet, I fear.

Lady Ruff-Diamond has secreted it

upon her person

in such a place it cannot easily be got at.

Why waste time? Let us take it from her by force.

That would be unpardonable!

In India, the cow is sacred.

What a lovely idea, whatever it is.

Not now, dear.

Not just now, thank you.

What have you got out of her?

Mind your own business.

I mean, what information?

Excuse me, madam.

Her Ladyship's here all right, but she doesn't

know anything about a photograph.

Well, keep working on her.

Don't worry, I will.

Ooh, she must think I'm deaf.

Good boy. Well, now...

Why... Oh! What pretty earrings.

Are they rubies?

No! They are mine!

For me? How nice.

What a pretty necklace.

It'd be a pity to split them up.

You shouldn't. You'll be getting me a bad name.

I can't help admiring those.

- They're beauties, aren't they?

- Oh!

Stop! Shh.

Ha-ha-ha! Laa dee da da.

Ah! Oh...

Uh-uh, hold still.

Oooh!

Oh, it's fun, isn't it?

Ahhh... Oh! There we are.

- There, that didn't hurt, did it?

-No.

Later. I'm collecting on behalf

of the mission at the moment.

Oh!

Oh, no.

Hang on, hang on.

I say, she's done it again.

Done what?

She keeps on asking me something, I nod yes,

she claps her hands and goes mad.

Yeah... Stand easy, will you?

Ah, well, just remember,

when... when a Burpa nods it means no...

Phwoar! Hang on.

..and when... when... when they applaud,

it shows displeasure. Now, then...

Hey, girly, just a minute.

Look, I am saying yes!

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

Look, look, look, look, look!

I'm saying yes. Yes! Yes!

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

What a good idea! Mixed bathies!

Come on, chaps. Fall in.

WIDDLE:
Yes! Yes! Yes!

Wahaay! Come and join us!

(Laughing and shouting)

- Well, what is it?

- The chiefs are here.

I know that, fool. I've already seen them.

-No, these are other chiefs.

- What other chiefs?

- Then who are the ones already here?

- Call the guards! Call the guards!

Salaam.

(Boisterous shouting and laughing)

Remember, men,

only give name, rank and number.

This way, please, madam.

All right, thank you, Major.

- Will you sit down, madam?

- Thank you.

- And er... what can I do for you?

- It is more a question of what I can do for you,

Excellency.

Pardon?

I am His Highness the Khasi's number one.

You know that my lord and master has taken

your woman away with him?

I know, I know.

He has done you a great wrong.

And it is my duty, as his woman,

to right that wrong.

It is? Is it?

Oh, er... what exactly did you have in mind?

What he has done unto you,

you are entitled to do unto him.

It is the custom of our people.

Well, as a stranger to your country,

I must get used to your customs.

That is well.

I am ready to right that wrong.

Me too.

Don't go away.

- Shorthouse.

- Sir?

Don't disturb us, please.

We're going to have a spot of tiffin.

# Tribal drums

What are they celebrating, my father?

The British prisoners, my child,

are to be executed at sunset.

No, father, spare them.

Impossible, my child.

And it will help to show these Burpa fools

that the British are not invincible.

- The white memsahib?

- Of course. But do not worry.

We'll make it easy for them.

They will die the Death of a Thousand Cuts.

Oh, no. Oh, that's horrible.

Nonsense, child, the British are used to cuts!

# Tribal drums

Charming! Charming!

Join the army and see the next world!

- It's all your fault.

- Why? What have I done?

What have you done?!

You can't even take part in a simple little orgy

without going raving mad.

Chasing women round the room,

diving into pools after them!

I didn't ask to come on this job,

and I don't know why he picked me.

I chose you, Widdle,

because if anything was to go wrong,

I couldn't think of anyone

I'd rather it go wrong to!

Now, now, now, now, steady, chaps.

Try and keep calm.

We've been in tighter spots than this.

Here we go, he's going to ask us

to keep a stiff upper lip next.

I was about to say remember we're British.

I beg your pardon, Captain.

Then I was going to say keep a stiff upper lip.

I'm not standing round here

waiting for mine to stiffen.

Guard! Guard!

I'm an ecclesiastical dignitary.

I insist on seeing the British Consul!

What do you want, pig!

I was going to ask for the name of a good

dentist, but I don't think I'll bother.

The feast in honour of the chiefs is ready,

mighty Raj.

Good, I will go now.

- You have the photograph?

-No. Wait, I will see if I can get it.

Oh, there you are, Randy.

I thought you'd forgotten all about me.

Impossible, my dear madam.

- You haven't mentioned the dress.

- Sari.

There's no need to apologise.

There's a nice fringe.

No, no, the garment is called a sari.

Oh! Ho-ho-ho! Oh, yes, of course! Silly me.

The sari with the fringe on top! Ha-ha-ha!

Yes, it looks most exquisite on you, madam.

But if you will forgive my saying so,

there is something here causing an ugly bulge.

- I can't help the way I'm made, can I?

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote

Talbot Rothwell

Talbot Nelson Conn Rothwell, OBE (12 November 1916 – 28 February 1981) was an English screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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