Sketch:(Caption on screen: 'AN APPEAL ON BEHALF OF THE NATIONAL TRUSS' Cut to a smartly dressed woman.)
Woman: Good evening. My name is Leapy Lee. No, sorry. That's the name of me favourite singer. My name is Mrs Fred Stone. No, no, Mrs Fred Stone is the wife of me favourite tennis player. My name is Bananas. No, no, that's me favourite fruit. I'm Mrs Nice- evening-out-at-the-pictures-then-perhaps-a-dance-at-a-club-and- back-to-his-plice-for-a-quick-cup-of-coffee-and-little-bit-of- no! No, sorry, that's me favourite way of spending a night out. Perhaps I am Leapy Lee? Yes! I must be Leapy Lee! Hello fans! Leapy Lee here! (sings) Little arrows that will… (phone rings, she answers) Hello? … Evidently I'm not Leapy Lee. I thought I probably wouldn't be. Thank you, I'll tell them. (puts phone down) Hello. Hello, Denis Compton here. No no… I should have written it down. Now where's that number? (as she looks in her bag she talks to herself) I'm Moo Tse Tung… I'm P. P. Arnold… I'm Margaret Thatchef … I'm Sir Gerald Nabarro … (she dials) Hello? Sir Len Hutton here. Could you tell me, please … oh, am I? Oh, thank you. (puts phone down) Good evening. I'm Mrs What-number-are- you-dialling-please?
(A boxer rushes in and falls her with one blow· Women's Institute applauding)