"Floella, what do you think?" asks the assistant, turning into Bob Monkhouse.
The lovely Floella Benjamin: "Oh, well, judging by the fact that you said beetroot rather than nuns, I'd probably go for true."
Bob: "True, you say, Floella. Very interesting. Ah yes, the audience is behind you on that one. So what's it to be, Dave, traffic warden from Islington? Do you think Floella would actually know about the personal hygiene of triffids, or do you think toads really do prefer shorts?"
Dave, traffic warden from Islington: "Weeell, it's not that I don't trust Floella -- I'm sure she's as lovely a lady as all her appearances on Play School suggest -- but on this occasion I think she might be mistaken about the anatomy of chickens. I'm going to say false."
[Audience: Ssssssssssss! Dave is evil! He doesn't trust Floella Benjamin, who certainly is as lovely a lady as all her appearances on Play School suggest!]
Bob: "Well, the audience have made up their minds, let's see if you're right... No, in fact, you're wrong!"
[Audience: Boo! Dave doubts the integrity of Floella Benjamin! Dave must die! Kill Dave! Kill! Kill! Kill!]
Bob: "Ho ho ho! I'll just tell you a joke about my mother-in-law..."
At this point, you switch over before you die of boredom.
© 1997 pjl27@hermes.cam.ac.uk
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