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The Travel Agent

This sketch, sent to me by 'Malc' (many thanks, Malc!), features three of the four regular script writers engaged on the 1968-69 television series, 'Marty'. So it's something of a puzzle as to who was the author of the following — Tim Brook-Taylor, Marty Feldman, John Junkin or Graham Chapman?

A little old man, and his little old wife enter shop. The old man picks up a handbell from the desk and rings it, violently, in the Travel Agent's ear. He then 'pings' desk top hotel-style bell.

Travel Agent:
(John Junkin) What did you do that for?
Old Man:
(Marty Feldman) We wanted to see the Travel Agent.
Old Woman:
(Tim Brooke-Taylor) The Travel Agent.
Old Man:
Travel Agent...
Travel Agent:
I am the travel agent.
Old Man:
(shocked) Oh!
Old Woman:
Oh!
Old Man:
Why aren't you wearing your hat then? Frightening people like that...
Travel Agent:
What hat?
Old Man:
The hat with "Travel Agent" written on it! You might be anybody, you might be a murderer!
Travel Agent:
No no no, because then I'd have a hat with "Murderer" on it, wouldn't I.
Old Woman:
Yes so you would, yes.
Travel Agent:
(stifled exasperation) How can I help?
Old Man:
Well my wife and I would like to see the Edinburgh Festival.
Old Woman:
Edinburgh Festival...
Old Man:
Edinburgh Festival...
Travel Agent:
How would you like to go?
Old Woman:
Er - sorry, could you repeat that question?
Travel Agent:
(as if talking to a very slow schoolchild) How would you like to travel?
Old Man:
Don't know.
Old Woman:
Neither do I. What's the answer?
Travel Agent:
I am not asking you a riddle, madam, I am seeking information. Do you want to go by train, plane or coach?
Old Woman & Old Man:
(together) No.
Travel Agent:
No WHAT?
Old Woman & Old Man:
(together) Thank you.
Travel Agent:
That's better (begins to tear hair, composes himself). I mean no, what?
Old Man:
Definitely not, we don't want to travel...
Old Woman:
No.
Travel Agent:
But you've got to travel!
Old Man:
Don't you order me about, young man!
Travel Agent:
Look, you want to see the Edinburgh Festival?
Old Man:
Yes, yes...
Old Woman:
We want to see the Edinburgh Festival...
Old Man:
Edinburgh Festival...
Travel Agent:
(triumphantly) Therefore you have got to travel to Edinburgh!
Old Man:
Why?
Old Woman:
Yes, answer that, young man, you're so clever!
Old Man:
Ah! Ah! Ah!
Travel Agent:
Because Edinburgh is the only place that has an Edinburgh Festival!
Old Man:
Isn't there one in London?
Travel Agent:
(voice quivering) No there isn't.
Old Man:
Look! Look! Look!
Old Woman:
Look!
Old Man:
I fought in the first world war...
Old Woman:
Yes he did.
Old Man:
Yes...
Old Woman:
And he was wounded...
Old Man:
Yes.
Old Woman:
Had his brain blown out...
Old Man:
Brain blown out...
Travel Agent:
(exasperated, beginning to shriek) That is as may be! Neverthe... (composes himself). Nevertheless, Edinburgh is the only place that has got an Edinburgh Festival
Old Man:
Look! Look! Look!
Old Woman:
Look!
Old Man:
I was on the Jarrow March...
Old Woman:
Yes yes, his nostrils went raw.
Old Man:
Raw!
Old Woman:
Raw!
Travel Agent:
Look! Look! (becoming slightly hysterical) I cannot move Edinburgh!
Old Man:
Look! Look! Look!
Old Woman:
Look!
Old Man:
She was wounded in the Second World War! A V2 hit her on the 'ead.
Old Woman:
Right on the 'ead...
Old Man:
Right on the 'ead - look!
Travel Agent:
I don't believe this!
Old Man:
You tell this to the younger generation they'd run you over in their sports cars, thanks we get...
Travel Agent:
Look you stupid old fool..
Old Man:
Oh!
Travel Agent:
(emphasising each word with a thump on the desk) I - can't - shift - Edinburgh!
Old Woman:
Stupid old fool?
Old Man:
There's gratitude...
Old Woman:
He died in the war for people like you...
Old Man:
I did, yes, I did.
Old Woman:
He and Arthur Stoatbridge...
Old Man:
Arthur...
Travel Agent:
Arthur Stoatbridge?!
Old Woman:
HE was a gentleman.
Old Man:
Arthur was. And a murderer...
Old Woman:
He wouldn't have stood for any of your nonsense.
Old Man:
No.
Old Woman:
He would have bitten your throat out.
Old Man:
He would have done. Arthur was a gentleman.
Old Woman:
He was, yes
Old Man:
He made the finest vanilla blancmange outside of Leamington.
Old Woman:
And and and he took no truck from darkies, and I'll tell you one thing, he could, he could, he could juggle with rats...
Old Man:
(moving towards the door) Well thank you! And we won't forget the mattress...

Travel Agent is a quivering, gibbering wreck by now. Cut to the old couple, outside now

Old Man:
Well that was fun, wasn't it?
Old Woman:
Yes, now let's go and destroy the grocer.
Old Man:
Right.
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