Mrs Scum was an old woman who appeared on "Spot the Braincell" in The Attila the Hun Show, and Mr Neutron is Found in Mr Neutron. She is an utter idiot when she was old, yet when she was young, she was quite smart. She married Mr Neutron and the rest of her life was unknown, but she won 2 gameshows, in her later years.
Mr Neutron[]
Mrs Scum | Oh 'ello Mr N, terrible about Enfield, innit? It's all gone. So's Staines ... lovely shops they used to have in Staines... and Stunmore, where the AA offices used to be. I don't know where we'll pay our AA subscriptions to now. Do you know where we'll have to pay our AA. subscriptions to now, Mr N? |
Mr Neutron | I didn't know you were a member of the AA Mrs S.C.U.M. |
Mrs Scum | Oh yes. Ever since the Corsair broke down in Leyonstone ... they towed it all the way to Deauville FOC. (Mr Neutron looks blank) Free of Charge. Well my husband Ken, K.E.N., he said... |
Mr Neutron | Oh, forget about your husband, Mrs S.C.U.M. - or may I call you Mrs S? |
Mrs Scum | You can call me Lindra, if you like. |
Mr Neutron | No, I'd rather call you Mrs S. |
Mrs Scum | Oh... |
Mr Neutron | (as if trying to soften the blow) And you can call me Mr N. |
Mrs Scum | Well... that's what I was calling you. |
Mr Neutron | Mrs S, there is something I have to tell you... |
Mrs Scum | Yes, Mr N? |
Mr Neutron | I have just won a Kellogg's Corn Flake Competition. |
Mrs Scum | Oh Mr N! That's wonderful! |
Mr Neutron | I got the ball in exactly the right place. The prize is £5,000 in cash, or as much ice cream as you can eat. |
Her eyes go round as saucers and all thoughts of returning to her marital bed vanish under the impact of such imminent wealth. | |
Mrs Scum | £5,000! |
Mr Neutron | I was thinking of taking the ice cream. |
Mrs Scum | (alarmed) Oh no! |
Mr Neutron | It's been so hot recently. |
Mrs Scum | You couldn't eat that much ice cream Mr N. |
Mr Neutron | Mrs S, I can eat enormous quantifies of ice cream without being sick. |
Mrs Scum | Oh no! Take the £5,000! Please take the £5,000. |
Mr Neutron | I was thinking. If we got married... |
Mrs Scum | Oh yes! (she sits very close to him) |
Mr Neutron | We could use the £5,000 to buy a spoon... |
Mrs Scum | Oh! We could buy a lot more than that! |
Mr Neutron | And then fill up with ice cream. |
Mrs Scum | No! Forget about the ice cream. We need the money. |
Mr Neutron | We need nothing. For there is something I have not told you Mrs S.C.U.M. |
Mrs Scum | Oh please call me Mrs S. |
Mr Neutron | No I would rather go back to calling you Mrs S.C.U.M., Mrs S.C.U.M. I am the most powerful man in the universe. There is nothing I cannot do. |
Mrs Scum | Oh Mr N. |
Mr Neutron | I want you to be my helpmate. As Tarzan had his Jane, as Napoleon had his Josephine, as Frankie Laine had whoever he had, I want you to help me in my plan to dominate the world! |
Mrs Scum | Oh Mr N. That I should be so lucky! |
Mr Neutron | You're not Jewish are you? |
"Spot The Brain Cell"[]
Cut to three bishops shouting from actual studio audience. | |
Bishops | Open the box! Open the box! Open the box! Open the box! Open the box! |
A simple 'Take Your Pick' style set with Michael Miles grinning type monster standing at centre of it. | |
Michael Miles | And could we have the next contender, please? (a pepperpot walks out onto the set towards Michael Miles) Ha ha ha... Good evening, madam, and your name is? |
Mrs Scum | Yes, yes... |
Michael Miles | And what's your name? |
Mrs Scum | I go to church regularly. |
Michael Miles | Jolly good, I see, and which prize do you have particular eyes on this evening? |
Mrs Scum | I'd like the blow on the head. |
Michael Miles | The blow on the head. |
Mrs Scum | Just there. (points to the back of her head) |
Michael Miles | Jolly good. Well your first question for the blow on the head this evening is: What great opponent of Cartesian dualism resists the reduction of psychological phenomena to physical states? |
Mrs Scum | I don't know that! |
Michael Miles | Well, have a guess. |
Mrs Scum | Henri Bergson. |
Michael Miles | Is the correct answer! |
Mrs Scum | Ooh, that was lucky. I never even heard of him. |
Michael Miles | Jolly good. |
Mrs Scum | I don't like darkies. |
Michael Miles | Ha ha ha. Who does? And now your second question for the blow on the head is: What is the main food that penguins eat? |
Mrs Scum | Pork luncheon meat. |
Michael Miles | No. |
Mrs Scum | Spam? |
Michael Miles | No, no, no. What do penguins eat? Penguins. |
MrsScum | Penguins? |
Michael Miles | Yes. |
Mrs Scum | I hate penguins. |
Michael Miles | No, no, no. |
Mrs Scum | They eat themselves. |
Michael Miles | No, no, what do penguins eat? |
Mrs Scum | Horses! ... Armchairs! |
Michael Miles | No, no, no. What do penguins eat? |
Mrs Scum | Oh, penguins. |
Michael Miles | Penguins. |
Mrs Scum | Cannelloni. |
Michael Miles | No. |
Mrs Scum | Lasagna, moussaka, lobster thermidor, escalopes de veau à l'estragon avec endives gratinéed with cheese. |
Michael Miles | No, no, no, no. I'll give you a clue. (mimes a fish swimming) |
Mrs Scum | Ah! Brian Clough |
Michael Miles | No. no. |
Mrs Scum | Brian Inglis, Brian Johnson, Bryan Forbes. |
Michael Miles | No, no! |
Mrs Scum | Nanette Newman. |
Michael Miles | No. What swims in the sea and gets caught in nets? |
Mrs Scum | Henri Bergson. |
Michael Miles | No. |
Mrs Scum | Goats. Underwater goats with snorkels and flippers. |
Michael Miles | No, no. |
Mrs Scum | A buffalo with an aqualung. |
Michael Miles | No, no. |
Mrs Scum | Reginald Maudling. |
Michael Miles | Yes, that's near enough. I'll give you that. Right, now, Mrs Scum, you have won your prize, do you still want the blow on the head? |
Mrs Scum | Yes, yes. |
Michael Miles | I'll offer you a poke in the eye. |
Mrs Scum | No! I want a blow on the head. |
Michael Miles | A punch in the throat? |
Mrs Scum | No. |
Michael Miles | All right then, a kick in the kneecap? |
Mrs Scum | No. |
Michael Miles | Mrs Scum, I'm offering you a boot in the teeth and a dagger up the strap. |
Mrs Scum | Er... |
Audience | Blow on the head! Take the blow on the head! |
Mrs Scum | No, no. I'll take the blow on the head. |
Michael Miles | Very well then, Mrs Scum, you have won tonight's star prize, the blow on the head. |
He strikes her on head with an enormous mallet and she falls unconscious. A sexily dressed hostess in the background (Graham) strikes a small gong. The three bishops rush in and jump on her. Cut to sign:
LICENCE FEES FROM 1ST JANUARY 1969 |