Гитлеровский выпуск :))
сначала пусть будет Джим Моррисон с поэмой о Гитлере. Ну и в довесок следом он споет "Roadhouse Blues", потому что кто же в здравом уме отпустит The Doors без песни. Запись фигова, видео присутствует чисто номинально и вообще с другого концерта, но не резать же.
The Doors Live in Seattle 1969 ( Hitler Poem; Roadhouse Blues)
а это мой любимый скетч Монти Пайтона (Шаббат Шалом!): Hitler in England
под катом текст на английском. Enjoy!
Landlady: Hello, Mr and Mrs Johnson?
Mr Johnson: That's right. Yes.
Landlady: Well come on in, excuse me not shaking hands, I've just been putting a bit of lard on the cat's boil.
Johnson: Very nice.
Landlady: Well you must be tired, it's a long way from Coventry, isn't it?
Johnson: Well, we usually reckon on five and a half hours and it took us six hours and fifty-three minutes, with the twenty-five minute stop at Frampton Cottrell to stretch our legs, only we had to wait half an hour to get onto the M5 at Droitwich.
Johnson: Then there was a three mile queue just before Bridgewater on the A38. We usually come round on the B3339 just before Bridgewater, you see...
Johnson: Ye, but this time we decided to risk it because they're always saying they're going to widen it there.
Landlady: Are they?
Johnson: Yes well just by the intersection, there where the A372 joins up, there's plenty of room to widen it there, there's only grass verges. They could get another six feet...knock down that hospital... Then we took the coast road through Williton and got all the Taunton traffic on the A358 from Crowcombe and Stogumber...
Landlady: Well you must be dying for a cup of tea.
Johnson: Well, wouldn't say no, not if it's warm and wet.
Landlady: Well come on in the lounge, I'm just going to serve afternoon tea.
Johnson: (following her into the lounge) Very nice.
In the lounge are sitting another bourgeois couple Mr and Mrs Phillips.
Landlady: Come on in, Mr and Mrs Johnson, oh this is Mr and Mrs Phillips.
Mr Phillips: Good afternoon.
Johnson: Thank you.
Landlady: It's their third time here with us, we can't keep you away can we? Ha, ha, and over here is Mr Hilter.
Landlady leads Mr and Mrs Johnson over to a table at which Adolf Hitler is sitting poring over a map. He is in full Nazi uniform. Himmler and Von Ribbentrop are also sitting at the table with him, Himmler in Nazi uniform and von Ribbentrop in evening dress, with an Iron Cross.
Hitler: Ach. Good time...good afternoon.
Landlady: Ooh planning a little excursion are we Mr Hilter?
Hitler: Ja, ja. We haff a little... (to others) Was ist ruckweise bewegen?
Von Ribbentrop: Hike.
Hitler: Ah yes, ve make a little hike for, for Bideford.
Johnson (leaning over map): Oh well, you'll want the A39 then...no, no, you've got the wrong map there, this is Stalingrad, you want the Ilfracombe and Barnstaple section.
Hitler: Ah! Hein...Reginald you have the wrong map here you silly old leg-before-wicket English person.
Himmler: I'm sorry mein Fuhrer. I did not...(Hitler slaps him) Mein Dickie old chum.
Landlady: Lucky Mr Johnson pointed that out, eh? You wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you...(they don't see the joke) I said, you wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you, ha, ha, ha?
Hitler (through clenched teeth): Not much fun in Stalingrad, no.
Landlady: Oh I'm sorry I didn't introduce you. This is Ron...Ron Vibbentrop.
Johnson: Oh, not Von Ribbentrop, eh?
Von Ribbentrop (leaping two feet in the air, then realizing): Nein! Nein! Nein! Oh!! Ha, ha, ha.
Landlady: And this is the quiet one, Mr Bimmler - Heimlich Bimmler.
Himmler: How do you do there squire, also I am not Minehead lad but I in Peterborough, Lincolnshire was given birth to, but stay in Peterborough Lincolnshire house all during war, owing to nasty running sores, and was unable to go in the streets play football or go to Nurnberg. I am retired vindow cleaner and pacifist, without doing war crimes (hurriedly corrects himself) tch tch tch, and am glad England win World Cup - Bobby Charlton, Martin Peters - and eating lots of chips and fish and hole in the toads, and Dundee cakes on Piccadilly line. Don't you know old chap I was head of Gestapo for ten years. Five years! No, no, nein, I was not head of Gestapo at all...I make joke.
Landlady: Oooh, Mr Bimmler, you do have us on. (A telephone rings) Oh excuse me I must go and answer that. (leaves the room)
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