Monty Python and the Holy Grail Page #2

Suggestive poses for the

M00se suggested by VIC ROTTER

Antler-care by LIV THATCHER

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The directors of the firm hired to

continue the credits after the other

people had been sacked, with it to

be known that they have just been

sacked.

The credits have been completed

in an entirely different style at

great expense and at the last

minute.

FADE OUT:

TITLE ON YELLOW B.G

Executive Producer

JOHN GOLDSTONE & "RALPH" The Wonder Llama

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Producer

MARK FORSTARTER:

Assisted by

EARL J. LLAMA

MIKE Q. LLAMA III

SY LLAMA:

MERLE Z. LLAMA IX

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Directed by

40 SPECIALLY TRAINED

ECUADORIAN MOUNTAIN LLAMAS

6 VENEZUELAN RED LLAMAS

142 MEXICAN WHOOPING LLAMAS

14 NORTH CHILEAN GUANACOS

(CLOSELY RELATED TO THE LLAMA)

REG LLAMA OF BRIXTON

76000 BATTERY LLAMAS

FROM "LLAMA-FRESH" FARMS LTD. NEAR PARAGUAY

and

TERRY GILLIAM AND TERRY JONES

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FADE OUT:

1 EXTERIOR - CASTLE WALLS - DAY

Mist. Several seconds of it swirling about. silence

possibly, atmospheric music. SUPERIMPOSE "England AD 787".

after a few more seconds we hear hoofbeats in the distance.

They come slowly closer. Then out of the mist comes KING ARTHUR

followed by a SERVANT who is banging two half coconuts

together. ARTHUR raises his hand.

ARTHUR:

Whoa there!

SERVANT makes noises of horses halting, with a flourish. ARTHUR

peers through the mist. CUT TO shot from over his shoulder:

castle (e.g. Bodium) rising out of the mist. On the castle

battlements a SOLDIER is dimly seen. He peers down.

SOLDIER:

Halt! Who goes there?

ARTHUR:

It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle

of Camelot. King of all Britons, defeator of the Saxons,

sovereign of all England!

Pause.

SOLDIER:

Get away!

ARTHUR:

I am... And this my trusty servant, Patsy. We have ridden the

length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join

our court at Camelot.. I must speak with your lord and master.

SOLDIER:

What? Ridden on a horse?

ARTHUR:

Yes!

SOLDIER:

You're using coconuts!

ARTHUR:

...What?

SOLDIER:

You've got two empty halves of coconuts and you're banging

them together.

ARTHUR:

(Scornfully)

So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this

land, through the kingdom of Mercea.

SOLDIER:

Where did you get the coconuts?

ARTHUR:

Through ... We found them.

SOLDIER:

Found them? In Mercea. The coconut's tropical!

ARTHUR:

What do you mean?

SOLDIER:

Well, this is a temperate zone.

ARTHUR:

The swallow may fly south with the sun, or the house martin

or the plover seek warmer hot lands in winter, yet these are

not strangers to our land.

SOLDIER:

Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?

ARTHUR:

Not at all. They could be carried.

SOLDIER:

What? A swallow carrying a coconut?

ARTHUR:

Why not?

SOLDIER:

I'll tell you why not ... because a swallow is about eight

inches long and weighs five ounces, and you'd be lucky

to find a coconut under a pound.

ARTHUR:

It could grip it by the husk ...

SOLDIER:

It's not a question of where he grips it, It's a simple

matter of weight - ratios ... A five-ounce bird could not

hold a a one pound coconut.

ARTHUR:

Well, it doesn't matter. Go and tell your master that

Arthur from the Court of Camelot is here.

A Slight pause. Swirling mist. Silence.

SOLDIER:

Look! To maintain Velocity, a swallow needs to beat

its wings four hundred and ninety three times every

second. right?

ARTHUR:

(irritated)

Please!

SOLDIER:

Am I right?

ARTHUR:

I'm not interested.

SECOND SOLDIER:

(who has loomed up on the battlements)

It could be carried by an African swallow!

FIRST SOLDIER:

Oh yes! An African swallow maybe ... but not a European

swallow. that's my point.

SECOND SOLDIER:

Oh yes, I agree there ...

ARTHUR:

(losing patience)

Will you ask your master if he wants to join the Knights

of Camelot?!

FIRST SOLDIER:

But then of course African swallows are non-migratory.

SECOND SOLDIER:

Oh yes.

ARTHUR raises his eyes heavenwards and nods to PATSY. They turn

and go off into the mist.

FIRST SOLDIER:

So they wouldn't be able to bring a coconut back anyway.

SECOND SOLDIER:

Wait a minute! Suppose two swallows carried it together?

FIRST SOLDIER:

No, they'd have to have it on a line.

Stillness. Silence again.

2 ANIMATION/LIVE ACTION SEQUENCE - DEATH AND DEVASTATION

CUT TO Terry Gilliam's sequence of Brueghel prints. Sounds of

strange medieval music. Discordant and sparse. Wailings and

groanings. The last picture mixes through into live action.

BIG CLOSE UP of contorted face upside down. A leg falls across

it. Creaking noise. The bodies lurch away from CAMERA to

reveal they are amongst a huge pile of bodies on a swaying cart

that is lumbering away from CAMERA. It is pulled by a couple of

ragged, dirty emaciated WRETCHES. Behind the cart walks another

MAN who looks slightly more prosperous, but only on the scale

of complete and utter impoverishment. He wears a black hood and

looks sinister.

CART DRIVER:

Bring out your dead!

We follow the cart through a wretched, impoverished plague-ridden

village. A few starved mongrels run about in the mud scavenging.

In the open doorway of one house perhaps we jug glimpse a pair of

legs dangling from the ceiling. In another doorway an OLD WOMAN

is beating a cat against a wall rather like one does with a mat.

The cart passes round a dead donkey or cow in the mud. And a MAN

tied to a cart is being hammered to death by four NUNS with

huge mallets.

CART DRIVER:

Bring out your dead!

There are legs stick out of windows and doors. Two MEN are fighting

in the mud - covered from head to foot in it. Another MAN is on his

hands in knees shovelling mud into his mouth. We just catch

sight of a MAN falling into a well.

CART DRIVER:

Bring out your dead!

LARGE MAN:

Here's one!

CART DRIVER:

Ninepence.

BODY:

I'm not dead!

CART DRIVER:

What?

LARGE MAN:

Nothing... There's your ninepence.

BODY:

I'm not dead!

CART DRIVER:

'Ere. He says he's not dead.

LARGE MAN:

Yes he is.

BODY:

I'm not!

CART DRIVER:

He isn't.

LARGE MAN:

He will be soon. He's very ill.

BODY:

I'm getting better!

LARGE MAN:

You're not. You'll be stone dead in a few minutes.

CART DRIVER:

I can't take him like this. It's against regulations.

BODY:

I don't want to go on the cart.

LARGE MAN:

Don't be such a baby.

CART DRIVER:

I can't take him.

BODY:

I feel fine.

LARGE MAN:

Do me a favour.

CART DRIVER:

I can't.

LARGE MAN:

Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes. He won't

be long.

CART DRIVER:

I promised I'd be at the Robinson's. They've lost nine

today.

LARGE MAN:

When's your next round?

CART DRIVER:

Thursday.

BODY:

I think I'll go for a walk.

LARGE MAN:

You're not fooling anyone you know.

(to CART DRIVER)

Isn't there anything you could do?

BODY:

(singing unrecognisably)

I feel happy... I feel happy.

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