The Meaning of Life ScriptThe Miracle of Birth: Part 2: The Third WorldThe sketch:ANNOUNCER: The Miracle of Birth: Part Two: The Third World. [sombre music] DAD: Oh, bloody hell. BABY: [crying] MUM: Ohh, get that, would you, Deirdre? DIERDRE: All right, Mum. BABY: [crying] CHILDREN: [talking] MUM: Now, whose teatime is it? CHILDREN: Mine! MUM: Come on, now. Out you go. Now, uh, Vincent, Tessa, Valerie, Janine, Martha, Andrew, Thomas, Walter, Pat, Linda, Michael, Evadne, Alice, Dominique, and Sasha, it's your bedtime. CHILDREN: Aww, Mum! MUM: Now, don't argue! Laura, Alfred, Nigel, Annie, Simon, Amanda,-- DAD: Wait! I've got something to tell the whole family. MUM: Oh, quick. Go and get the others in, Gordon. CHILDREN: What could it be? Shhh... DAD: The mill's closed! There's no more work. We're destitute. CHILDREN: [talking] DAD: Come in, my little loves. I've got no option but to sell you all for scientific experiments. CHILDREN: [whining] DAD: No, no. That's the way it is, my loves. Blame the Catholic church for not letting me wear one of those little rubber things. Oh, they've done some wonderful things in their time. They preserved the might and majesty, the mystery of the Church of Rome, and the sanctity of the sacraments, the indivisible oneness of the Trinity, but if they'd let me wear one of those little rubber things on the end of my cock, we wouldn't be in the mess we are now. BOY: Couldn't Mummy have worn some sort of pessary? DAD: Not if we're going to remain members of the fastest growing religion in the world, my boy. MUM: Ehhh, he's right. DAD: You see, we believe-- CHILDREN: [singing] GIRL: [singing] CHILDREN: [singing] MUM: [singing] MEN: [singing] WOMEN: [singing] CHILDREN: [singing] PRIEST: [singing] BRIDE and GROOM: [singing] NANNIES: [singing] CARDINALS: [singing] CHILDREN: [singing] FUNERAL CORTEGE: [singing] MOURNER #1: Mine! MOURNER #2: And mine! CORPSE: And mine! NUN: [singing] HOLY STATUES: [singing] EVERYONE: [singing] DAD: So, you see my problem, little ones: I can't keep you all here any longer. GIRL: Speak up! DAD: I can't keep you all here any longer! God has blessed us so much, I can't afford to feed you anymore. NIGEL: Couldn't you have your balls cut off? DAD: Hohh, it's not as simple as that, Nigel. God knows all! He'd see through such a cheap trick. What we do to ourselves, we do to Him. GIRL: You could have had them pulled off in an accident. CHILDREN: [talking] DAD: No. No, children. I know you're trying to help, but, believe me,... CHILDREN: Ohh... DAD: ...me mind's made up. I've given this long and careful thought, and it has to be medical experiments for the lot of you. CHILDREN: Ohh. Oh. Oh... CHILDREN: [singing mournfully] MR. HARRY BLACKITT: Look at them, bloody Catholics, filling the bloody world up with bloody people they can't afford to bloody feed. MRS. BLACKITT: What are we dear? MR. BLACKITT: Protestant, and fiercely proud of it. MRS. BLACKITT: Hmm. Well, why do they have so many children? MR. BLACKITT: Because... every time they have sexual intercourse, they have to have a baby. MRS. BLACKITT: But it's the same with us, Harry. MR. BLACKITT: What do you mean? MRS. BLACKITT: Well, I mean, we've got two children, and we've had sexual intercourse twice. MR. BLACKITT: That's not the point. We could have it any time we wanted. MRS. BLACKITT: Really? MR. BLACKITT: Oh, yes, and, what's more, because we don't believe in all that Papist claptrap, we can take precautions. MRS. BLACKITT: What, you mean... lock the door? MR. BLACKITT: No, no. I mean, because we are members of the Protestant Reformed Church, which successfully challenged the autocratic power of the Papacy in the mid-sixteenth century, we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue. MRS. BLACKITT: What d'you mean? MR. BLACKITT: I could, if I wanted, have sexual intercourse with you,... MRS. BLACKITT: Oh, yes, Harry. MR. BLACKITT: ...and, by wearing a rubber sheath over my old feller, I could insure... that, when I came off, you would not be impregnated. MRS. BLACKITT: Ooh! MR. BLACKITT: That's what being a Protestant's all about. That's why it's the church for me. That's why it's the church for anyone who respects the individual and the individual's right to decide for him or herself. When Martin Luther nailed his protest up to the church door in fifteen-seventeen, he may not have realized the full significance of what he was doing, but four hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas,... [sniff] ...and, Protestantism doesn't stop at the simple condom! Oh, no! I can wear French Ticklers if I want. MRS. BLACKITT: You what? MR. BLACKITT: French Ticklers. Black Mambos. Crocodile Ribs. Sheaths that are designed not only to protect, but also to enhance the stimulation of sexual congress. MRS. BLACKITT: Have you got one? MR. BLACKITT: Have I got one? Uh, well, no, but I can go down the road any time I want and walk into Harry's and hold my head up high and say in a loud, steady voice, 'Harry, I want you to sell me a condom. In fact, today, I think I'll have a French Tickler, for I am a Protestant.' MRS. BLACKITT: Well, why don't you? MR. BLACKITT: But they-- Well, they cannot, 'cause their church never made the great leap out of the Middle Ages and the domination of alien episcopal supremacy.
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