Beaker Lament for Tim Brooke-Taylor

A giant cat plays on the Duckhenge trilithon, while a Swanee Whistle and Kazoo duet (played from Beaker People's balconies) plays the "I'm Sorry I haven't a Clue" theme tune.

Archdruid:  We're gutted to hear of the loss of Tim Brooke-Taylor. A man whose ability to fake patriotic pride for dramatic effect was the greatest we had ever seen. At least, until Boris Johnson decided he wanted to be Prime Minister. A man who wrote and performed in so many funny things. And so I am cycling on the back of this three-seater trandem bicycle, with Hnaef socially-distanced on the front seat, being chased by a giant Dougal from the Magic Roundabout, to read out the following names of people who wanted to remember Tim Brooke-Taylor.

Mr & Mrs Zforthelaffs. And their son, Hank Zforthelaffs.

Mrs Great-Losse, and her husband: Watt A Great-Losse.

Mr Jack Waistcoat, his wife Mrs Waistcoat, and their son Ewan Ian Jack Waistcoat.

Mr and Mrs Crick-Elwood

Lord and Lady Betweenies and their son, Ian Betweenies.

Mr T. Potte, and his wife Ima T. Potte*.

Mr & Mrs Bennett-That-Makes-Me-Sadd and their son.... Gordon Bennett-That-Makes-Me-Sadd.

And, not crying for Tim, we have Marge and Tina.**

And so as 300,000,34,974,000 grains of the sands of time slip away, and we mourn every single person who has died of this terrible virus, we bow our heads, raise our black puddings to the sky, and say thank you, Tim. This is Mornington Crescent.

In the distance, the sounds of the MCC quire can be heard. 

* You really need to know your Goodies for this one.

** Yeah, and this one.

---

Please support this blog