A small tobacconist’s shop. The tobacconist is handing change to a fireman.

Fireman (Michael): Thank you very much for the change,
Mr. Tobacconist. (he exits; then out of vision, very loud)
Was that all right?
Everybody: Sssh!

Stirring adventure music of buccaneer film as at the beginning and the roller caption in the same typeface.

ROLLER CAPTION: IN 1970, THE BRITISH EMPIRE LAY IN RUINS, FOREIGN NATIONALS FREQUENTED THE STREETS - MANY OF THEM HUNGARIANS (NOT THE STREETS - THE FOREIGN NATIONALS). ANYWAY, MANY OF THESE HUNGARIANS WENT INTO TOBACCONIST’S SHOPS TO BUY CIGARETTES...

Enter Hungarian gentleman with phrase book. He is looking for the right phrase.

Hungarian (John): I will not buy this record. It is scratched.
Tobacconist (Terry J): Sorry?
Hungarian: I will not buy this record. It is scratched.
Tobacconist: No, no, no. This ... tobacconist’s.
Hungarian: Ah. I will not buy this tobacconist’s. It is scratched.
Tobacconist: No, no, no ... tobacco ... er, cigarettes?
Hungarian: Yes, cigarettes. My hovercraft is full of eels.
Tobacconist: What?
Hungarian: (miming matches) My hovercraft is full of eels.
Tobacconist: Matches, matches? (showing some)
Hungarian: Yah, yah. (he takes cigarettes and matches and pull out loose change; he consults his book) Er, do you want ... do you want to come back to my place, bouncy bouncy ?
Tobacconist: I don’t think you’re using that right.
Hungarian: You great pouf.
Tobacconist: That’ll be six and six please.
Hungarian: If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me? I am no longer infected.
Tobacconist: (miming that he wants to see the book; he takes the book) It costs six and six ... (mumbling as he searches) Costs six and six ... Here we are ... Yandelvayasna gridenwi stravenka.

Hungarian hits him between the eyes. Policeman walking along street suddenly stops and puts his hand to his ear. He starts running down the street, round corner and down another street, round yet another corner and down another street into the shop.

Policeman (Graham): What’s going on here then?
Hungarian: (opening book and pointing at tobacconist) You have beautiful thighs.
Policeman: What?
Tobacconist: He hit me.
Hungarian: Drop your panties, Sir William, I cannot wait till lunchtime.
Policeman: Right! (grabs him and drags him out)
Hungarian: My nipples explode with delight.