Local councillor Sidney Fiddler persuades the Mayor to help improve the image of their rundown seaside town by holding a beauty contest. But...更多>
Hope Springs: It's not her fault she has to wear a falsie. Sid Fiddler: What do you mean, "a" falsie? Hope Springs: She's got one bigger than the other. Sid Fiddler: Is that right? Hope Springs: No, left. Augusta Prodworthy: And since I am strongly of the opinion that we are already providing more than enough entertainment for visitors, I wish to propose the motion that the provision of more would be detrimental to the good name of the borough. Sid Fiddler: Knickers! Mayor Frederick Bumble: Please, Councillor! I should strike that from the minutes, Miss Drew. Miss Drew: Ah, I beg your pardon, your worship? Mayor Frederick Bumble: Don't take down 'knickers'. Sid Fiddler: Chance would be a fine thing, wouldn't it, love? Mayor Frederick Bumble: Councillor Fiddler, I really must request you moderate your language while in committee. Augusta Prodworthy: I second that. Sid Fiddler: I do beg the Committee's pardon, your worship. But all this bleedin' codswollop about mucking up the good name of the borough gets on my wick! Miss Drew: Should I...? Mayor Frederick Bumble: No, no! Connie Philpotts: Hello, Mrs. Dukes, I thought you were going to the cinema. Mrs. Dukes: I did, but I had to leave. A young man sat next to me and started to make improper suggestions. Connie Philpotts: Again? Really, you should complain to the manager. Mrs. Dukes: I can't - he's after me too, you see! Connie Philpotts: Well, Mrs. Dukes, perhaps you shouldn't make yourself look quite so attractive. Mrs. Dukes: Oh it's not that, I can't help it. I give out waves, you know. Connie Philpotts: Really? Mrs. Dukes: Yes, my late husband used to call it OOMPH! Connie Philpotts: You and a bunch of beauty queens? It's like asking Dracula to be in charge of a blood bank! Sid Fiddler: Now, now, wait a minute, that's not true. You know I don't go for beautiful women: I like you. Connie Philpotts: That does it! Go on! You lecherous so-and-so, go on, GET OUT! Miss Dawn Brakes: Excuse me, is this the train to the beauty contest? Peter Potter: Yes, that's right. Miss Dawn Brakes: Oh good. [to Paula] Miss Dawn Brakes: Are you coming?
: Certainly not! [Miss Dawn Brakes looks Paula Perkins up and down] Miss Dawn Brakes: Perhaps you're right. [Looking into the carriage; to Peter] Miss Dawn Brakes: Are you in this one? Peter Potter: That's right, I am. Miss Dawn Brakes: I'll join you then. Paula Perkins: [Suspiciously] You didn't tell me anything about a beauty contest! Peter Potter: I think I'd better go! Ida Downs: What do you want us to wear? Sid Fiddler: Oh, anything that brings out your best... points Miss...? Ida Downs: Downs, Ida Downs. Sid Fiddler: Ah, I bet you come from Beds. Ida Downs: No - Bristol. Sid Fiddler: I should have guessed. Ida Downs: I've got a rather smashing two-piece swimsuit. Sid Fiddler: Great - just wear one piece of that! Ida Downs: Will they publish pictures like that? Larry: Not in my paper! Ida Downs: Oh! You're a dirty old man! Admiral: [to Connie] Mrs. Philpotts, I wish to complain. This young woman molested me. Ida Downs: Well, I like that! Admiral: Whether you like it or not, my dear, is quite immaterial. Sid Fiddler: [to Ida] Yes, all right, darling, I'll sort it out. Admiral: Cheeky little thing! I'd like to put her across my knee. Connie Philpotts: I'm sure you would, Admiral! Miss Bangor: Excuse me, are you going to Fircombe? Peter Potter: This train's going there, yes. Sid Fiddler: Connie, have you got a room for this young lady please? Connie Philpotts: Well, of course, Sidney! [Handing over the key] Connie Philpotts: I think you'll find this an ideal one. Sid Fiddler: Thank you, Connie. Hey, just a minute, that's for the broom cupboard. Connie Philpotts: That's right: where we keep all the scrubbers! Sid Fiddler: [to a furious Hope] All right, all right, keep your hair on! [Hands her another key] Sid Fiddler: Here, go and change in mine. I'll sort it out later. Hope Springs: Ta. I heard that - does she fancy you or something? Sid Fiddler: You know how it is, a widow with a place like this, things get on top of her. Hope Springs: Yeah, I bet they do. Frequently! Augusta Prodworthy: Is that you, Rosemary?