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Sketch:
(Begins with pictures of money, bank vaults, gold, etc. overwritten
by 'THE MONEY PROGRAMME'. Eric Idle sits at a desk between Michael Palin
and John Cleese. He begins quietly but becomes increasingly agitated
as he speaks.)
PRESENTER:
Good evening, and welcome to The Money Programme. Tonight on The
Money Programme, we're going to look at money. Lots of it. On film,
and in the studio. Some of it in nice piles, others in lovely clanky
bits of loose change. Some of it neatly counted into fat little hundreds,
delicate fivers stuffed into bulging wallets, nice crisp clean checks,
pert pieces of copper coinage thrust deep into trouser pockets, romantic
foreign money rolling against the thigh with rough familiarity, beautiful
wayward curlicued banknotes, filigreed copper plating cheek by jowl
with tumbly ( ? ) rubbing gently against the terse leather of beautifully
balanced bank books!
(He looks around in surprised realization that he's panting and
screaming.)
I'm sorry.
(adjusts tie, darts eyes around room)
But I love money. All money. (growing excited again) I've
always wanted money. To handle! To touch! The smell of the rain-washed
florin! The lure of the lira! The glitter and the glory of the guinea!
(stands up) The romance of the ruble! (stands on chair)
The feel of the franc! (stands on desk) The heel of the deutschmark!
(stomps foot) The cold antiseptic sting of the Swiss franc! And
the sunburnt splendor of the Australian dollar! (slaps knee)
(sings the rest while dancing across desk; Michael and John just
look at him blandly.)
PRESENTER:
I've got ninety thousand pounds in my pyjamas.
I've got forty thousand French francs in my fridge.
I've got lots of lovely lire.
Now the Deutschmark's getting dearer,
And my dollar bills would buy the Brooklyn Bridge.
PRESENTER and CHORUS:
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money.
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash.
Some people say it's folly,
But I'd rather have the lolly.
With money you can make a splash.
PRESENTER:
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money.
CHORUS:
…Money, money, money, money.
PRESENTER:
There is nothing like a newly minted pound.
CHORUS:
…Money, money, money, money.
PRESENTER and CHORUS:
Everyone must hanker
For the butchness of a banker.
It's accountancy that makes the world go 'round.
CHORUS:
'Round, 'round, 'round.
PRESENTER:
You can keep your Marxist ways,
For it's only just a phase,
For it's money, money, money makes the world go 'round.
CHORUS:
…Money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, moneeeeey!
