****  The Cheese Shop Sketch
****  Transcribed from "The Instant Monty Python Record Collection"
****  by Malcolm Dickinson ( CLARINET@YALEVMX.BITNET )    4/4/86
****  Spelling corrected by Burr ( WEST@YALEVMX.BITNET ) to the best of
****  his ad hoc abilities
 
                          ***  The Cheese Shoppe   ***
 
    (a customer walks in the door.)
 
    Customer: Good Morning.
    Owner: Good morning, Sir.  Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium!
    Customer: Ah, thank you, my good man.
    Owner: What can I do for you, Sir?
    C: Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmon Street
       just now skimming through "Rogue Herrys" by Hugh Walpole, and I
       suddenly came over all peckish.
    O: Peckish, sir?
    C: Esuriant.
    O: Eh?
    C: 'Ee, Ah wor 'ungry-loike!
    O: Ah, hungry!
    C: In a nutshell.  And I thought to myself, "a little fermented curd
       will do the trick," so I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied
       forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the
       vending of some cheesy comestibles!
    O: Come again?
    C: I want to buy some cheese.
    O: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bazouki player!
    C: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations of the
       Terpsichorean muse!
    O: Sorry?
    C: 'Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, 'yer forced too!
    O: So he can go on playing, can he?
    C: Most certainly!  Now then, some cheese please, my good man.
    O: (lustily) Certainly, sir.  What would you like?
    C: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.
    O: I'm, a-fraid we're fresh out of red Leicester, sir.
    C: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
    O: I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it
       fresh on Monday.
    C: Tish tish.  No matter.  Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly,
       if you please.
    O: Ah!  It's beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks.  Was expecting it this
       morning.
    C: 'T's not my lucky day, is it?   Aah, Bel Paese?
    O: Sorry, sir.
    C: Red Windsor?
    O: Normally, sir, yes.  Today the van broke down.
    C: Ah.  Stilton?
    O: Sorry.
    C: Ementhal? Gruyere?
    O: No.
    C: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.
    O: No.
    C: Lipta?
    O: No.
    C: Lancashire?
    O: No.
    C: White Stilton?
    O: No.
    C: Danish Brew?
    O: No.
    C: Double Goucester?
    O: <pause>   No.
    C: Cheshire?
    O: No.
    C: Dorset Bluveny?
    O: No.
    C: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Port Salut, Savoy Aire, Saint Paulin,
       Carrier de lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson?
    O: No.
    C: Camenbert, perhaps?
    O: Ah, we have camenbert--yes, sir.
    C: You do, excellent.
    O: Yes sir, it's, ah...it's a bit runny.
    C: Oh, I like it runny.
    O: It's very runny actually, sir.
    C: No matter, fetch hither la fromage de la belle France, mmmmmh.
    O: I think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it sir.
    C: I don't care how fucking runny it is, hand it over with all speed.
    O: Ohhhh.
    C: What now?
    O: The cat's eaten it.
    C: <pause> Has he.
    O: She, sir.
    C: <pause again> Gouda?
    O: No.
    C: Edam?
    O: No.
    C: Caithness?
    O: No.
    C: Smoked Austrian?
    O: No.
    C: Japanese Sage Derby?
    O: No sir.
    C: You DO have some cheese do you?
    O: Course sir, its a cheese shop sir, we've got er...
    C: No no, don't tell me, I'm keen to guess.
    O: Fair enough.
    C: Er, Wensleydale.
    O: Yes.
    C: Ah well I'll have some of that.
    O: Oh, I thought you were talking to me sir, Mr. Wensleydale;
       that's my name.
    C: <pause> Greek feta?
    O: Ah, not as such.
    C: Er, Gorgonzola?
    O: No.
    C: Parmisan?
    O: No.
    C: Mozarella?
    O: No.
    C: Picklekramer?
    O: No.
    C: Danish bimburg?
    O: No.
    C: Czech sheeps milk?
    O: No.
    C: Venezuelan beaver cheese?
    O: Not today sir, no.
    C: <pause> Ah, how about Cheddar?
    O: Well, we don't get much call for it round here, sir.
    C: NOT MUCH CALL.... it's the single most popular cheese in the world!
    O: Not round here sir.
    C: And what is the most popular cheese round here?
    O: 'Ilchester sir.
    C: Is it?
    O: Oh yes, sir, it's staggeringly popular in this manor squire.
    C: Is it?
    O: Its our number 1 best seller, sir.
    C: I see, er 'Ilchester eh.
    O: Right sir.
    C: All right, OK...... have you got any, he asked, expecting
       the answer no.
    O: I'll have a look sir. <looks around beneath counter>
    O: Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno.
    C: It's not much of a cheese shop is it?
    O: Finest in the district sir.
    C: Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, pray.
    O: Well it's so clean, sir.
    C: It's certainly uncontaminated by cheese!
    O: You haven't asked me about the Limburger, sir.
    C: Is it worth it?
    O: Could be.
    C: Have you....SHUT THAT BLOODY BAZOUKI UP!!
    O: Told you sir.
    C: Have you got any Limburger?
    O: No.
    C: That figures, predictable, really I suppose. It was an act
       of the purest optimism to have posed the question in the 
       first place....  Tell me--
    O: Yes sir?
    C: Have you, in fact, got any cheese here at all?
    O: Yes sir.
    C: Really?
    O: No, not really sir.
    C: You haven't?
    O: No sir, not a scrap, I was deliberately wasting your time sir.
    C: Well I'm sorry but I'm going to have to shoot you.
    O: Right-O sir.
    <BANG>
    C: What a senseless waste of human life.
    
    <------------------------------------------------------------>
    
    What the written word fails to convey is the wonderful way
    in which the bazouki playing changes tempo and volume with
    the conversation.... true brilliance....