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  • Dress Up Jesus...

    Warning! For those who really believe, do not follow this link.

    For those who want a laugh, go check out Dress Jesus Up

    Jord.
    Jordâ„¢

  • #2
    I like it!

    ------------------
    Join the MURC SETI team! | SETI @ MURC
    According to the latest official figures, 43% of all statistics are totally worthless...

    Comment


    • #3
      Hey, I really believe religion is funny.

      This page is cool.

      Comment


      • #4
        Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice, pull down your pants and slide on the ice.

        Comment


        • #5


          And I DO believe. I think Jesus would have a laugh at it, as a cool guy he was

          Comment


          • #6
            I love this site. A buddy sent it to me a week or so ago. I felt like I was goign to hell just for playing with it, but man, it's just so fun!
            PIII 550@605
            IWill Motherboard VD133
            VIA Chipset
            512MB PC133 CAS2 Crucial
            G400 DH 32MB (6.51 Drivers)
            DirectX 8.0a
            SB Live! Value
            8x DVD (Toshiba)
            6x4x24 CDRW (Sony)
            Intel Pro/100+ NIC
            3Com CMX Cable Modem
            Optiquest V95 19"
            HP 812C Color Ink Jet
            Microtek flatbed scanner
            Intellimouse Explorer
            Surround Sound w/two subwoofers
            AND WAY TOO MANY GAMES!!!

            Comment


            • #7
              I think they should have a few more options than making Jesus look gay in several different flavours.

              Comment


              • #8


                How about a dress up Brian?


                ------------------
                Join the MURC SETI team! | SETI @ MURC
                According to the latest official figures, 43% of all statistics are totally worthless...

                Comment


                • #9
                  LOL

                  That's the fate I recommend for all the political whiners

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Who's Brian?

                    Comment


                    • #11




                      ------------------
                      Join the MURC SETI team! | SETI @ MURC
                      According to the latest official figures, 43% of all statistics are totally worthless...

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Some idiot who likes to stir up the politically motivated (whiners)

                        Comment


                        • #13

                          [B]




                          ------------------
                          Join the MURC SETI team! | SETI @ MURC
                          According to the latest official figures, 43% of all statistics are totally worthless...

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                          • #14
                            And my favorite Bigus Dickus!





                            ------------------
                            Join the MURC SETI team! | SETI @ MURC
                            According to the latest official figures, 43% of all statistics are totally worthless...

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Whos Brian? Might it just bee...

                              Monty Python's Life of Brian

                              Brian ... the babe they called Brian
                              Grew ... grew grew and grew, grew up to be
                              A boy called Brian
                              A boy called Brian

                              He had arms and legs and hands and feet
                              This boy whose name was Brian
                              And he grew, grew, grew and grew
                              Grew up to be
                              Yes he grew up to be
                              A teenager called Brian
                              A teenager called Brian
                              And his face became spotty
                              Yes his face became spotty
                              And his voice dropped down low
                              And things started to grow
                              On young Brian and show
                              He was certainly no
                              No girl named Brian
                              Not a girl named Brian

                              And he started to shave
                              And have one off the wrist
                              And want to see girls
                              And go out and get pissed
                              This man called Brian
                              This man called Brian

                              Three camels are silhouetted against the bright stars of the
                              moonless sky, moving slowly along the horizon. A star leads
                              them towards Bethlehem. The Wise Men enter the gates of the
                              sleeping town and make their way through the deserted streets.
                              A dog snarls at them. They approach a stable, out of which
                              streams a beam of light. They dismount and enter to find a
                              typical manger scene, with a baby in a rough crib of straw and
                              patient animals standing around. The mother nods by the side
                              of the child. Suddenly she wakes from her lightish doze, sees
                              them, shrieks and falls backwards off her straw. She's up
                              again in a flash, looking guardedly at them. She is a ratbag.

                              Mandy: Who are you?
                              Wise Man 1: We are three wise men.
                              Wise Man 2: We are astrologers. We have come from the East.
                              Mandy: Is this some kind of joke?
                              Wise Man 1: We wish to praise the infant.
                              Wise Man 2: We must pay homage to him.
                              Mandy: Homage!! You're all drunk you are. It's disgusting.
                              Out, out!
                              Wise Man 3: No, no.
                              Mandy: Coming bursting in here first thing in the morning
                              with some tale about Oriental fortune tellers...
                              get out!
                              Wise Man 1: No. No we must see him.
                              Mandy: Go and praise someone else's brat, go on.
                              Wise Man 2: We were led by a star.
                              Mandy: Led by a bottle, more like. Get out!
                              Wise Man 2: We must see him. We have brought presents.
                              Mandy: Out!
                              Wise Man 1: Gold, frankincense, myrrh.

                              (her attitude changes immediately)

                              Mandy: Well, why didn't you say so? He's over here...Sorry
                              this place is a bit of a mess. What is myrrh, anyway?
                              Wise Man 3: It is a valuable balm.
                              Mandy: A balm, what are you giving him a balm for? It might
                              bite him.
                              Wise Man 3: What?
                              Mandy: It's a dangerous animal. Quick, throw it in the trough.
                              Wise Man 3: No it isn't.
                              Mandy: Yes it is.
                              Wise Man 3: No, no, it is an ointment.
                              Mandy: An ointment?
                              Wise Man 3: Look.
                              Mandy: (sampling the ointment with a grubby finger)
                              Oh. There is an animal called a balm or did I dream it?
                              You astrologers, eh? Well, what's he then?
                              Wise Man 2: H'm?
                              Mandy: What star sign is he?
                              Wise Man 2: Capricorn.
                              Mandy: Capricorn, eh, what are they like?
                              Wise Man 2: He is the son of God, our Messiah.
                              Wise Man 1: King of the Jews.
                              Mandy: And that's Capricorn, is it?
                              Wise Man 3: No, no, that's just him.
                              Mandy: Oh, I was going to say, otherwise there'd be a lot of
                              them.

                              (The Wise Men are on their knees)

                              Wise Man 2: By what name are you calling him?

                              (Dramatic Holy music)

                              Mandy: Brian.
                              Three Wise Men:
                              We worship you, Oh, Brian, who are Lord over
                              us all. Praise unto you, Brian and to the
                              Lord our Father. Amen.
                              Mandy: Do you do a lot of this, then?
                              Wise Man 1: What?
                              Mandy: This praising.
                              Wise Man 1: No, no, no.
                              Mandy: Oh! Well, if you're dropping by again do pop in. (they
                              take the hint and rise) And thanks a lot for the gold
                              and frankincense but...don't worry too much about the
                              myrrh next time. Thank you...Goodbye. (to Brian)
                              Well, weren't they nice...out of their bloody minds,
                              but still...

                              In the background we see the Wise Men pause outside another door
                              as a gentle glow suffuses them. They look at each other, confer
                              and then stride back in and grab the presents from Mandy and turn
                              to go again, pushing Mandy over.

                              Mandy: Here, here, that's mine, you just gave me that. Ow!

                              The Leper Scene

                              (As MANDY and BRIAN pass through the city gate, they attract a sort of
                              muscular, fit and healthy young BEGGAR, who pursues them relentlessly through
                              the busy streets.)
                              EX-LEPER
                              Spare a talent for an old ex-leper, sir.
                              MANDY
                              (to EX-LEPER)
                              Buzz off!
                              EX-LEPER
                              (The EX-LEPER has come round to BRIAN's side.)
                              Spare a talent for an old ex-leper, sir.
                              BRIAN
                              Did you say -- ex-leper?
                              EX-LEPER
                              That's right, sir. (he salutes) ... sixteen years behind the bell, and
                              proud of it, thank you sir.
                              BRIAN
                              What happened?
                              EX-LEPER
                              I was cured, sir.
                              BRIAN
                              Cured?
                              EX-LEPER
                              Yes sir, a bloody miracle, sir. Bless you.
                              BRIAN
                              Who cured you?
                              EX-LEPER
                              Jesus did. I was hopping along, when suddenly he comes and cures me.
                              One minute I'm a leper with a trade, next moment me livelihood's gone.
                              Not so much as a by your leave.
                              (gestures in the manner of a conjuror)
                              You're cured mate, sod you.
                              MANDY
                              Go away.
                              EX-LEPER
                              Look. I'm not saying that being a leper was a bowl of cherries. But it
                              was a living. I mean, you try waving muscular suntanned limbs in people's
                              faces demanding compassion. It's a bloody disaster.
                              MANDY
                              You could go and get yourself a decent job, couldn't you?
                              EX-LEPER
                              Look, sir, my family has been in begging six generations. I'm not about
                              to become a goat-herd, just because some long-haired conjuror starts
                              mucking about. (makes gesture again)
                              Just like that. "You're cured." Bloody do-gooder!
                              BRIAN
                              Well, why don't you go and tell him you want to be a leper again?
                              EX-LEPER
                              Ah yeah, I could do that, sir yes, I suppose I could. What I was going
                              to do was ask him if he could ... you know, just make me a bit lame in one
                              leg during the week, you know, something beggable, but not leprosy, which
                              is a pain in the arse to be quite blunt, sir, excuse my French but ...
                              (They have reached BRIAN and MANDY's house. MANDY goes in. BRIAN gives the
                              BEGGAR a coin.)
                              BRIAN
                              There you are.
                              EX-LEPER
                              Thank you sir ... half a denary for my bloody life story!
                              BRIAN
                              There's no pleasing some people
                              EX-LEPER
                              That's just what Jesus said.

                              The Inalienable Rights Scene

                              (A huge Roman amphitheatre sparsely attended. REG, FRANCIS, STAN and JUDITH
                              are seated in the stands. They speak conspiratorially.)

                              JUDITH
                              ... Any Anti-Imperialist group like ours must *reflect* such a divergence
                              of interests within its power-base.
                              REG
                              Agreed.
                              (General nodding.)
                              Francis?
                              FRANCIS
                              I think Judith's point of view is valid here, Reg, provided the Movement
                              never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every man ...
                              STAN
                              Or woman.
                              FRANCIS
                              Or woman ... to rid himself ...
                              STAN
                              Or herself.
                              REG
                              Or herself. Agreed. Thank you, brother.
                              STAN
                              Or sister.
                              FRANCIS
                              Thank you, brother. Or sister. Where was I?
                              REG
                              I thought you'd finished.
                              FRANCIS
                              Oh, did I? Right.
                              REG
                              Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man ...
                              STAN
                              Or woman.
                              REG
                              Why don't you shut up about women, Stan, you're putting us off.
                              STAN
                              Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Reg.
                              FRANCIS
                              Why are you always on about women, Stan?
                              STAN
                              ... I want to be one.
                              REG
                              ... What?
                              STAN
                              I want to be a woman. From now on I want you all to call me Loretta.
                              REG
                              What!?
                              STAN
                              It's my right as a man.
                              JUDITH
                              Why do you want to be Loretta, Stan?
                              STAN
                              I want to have babies.
                              REG
                              You want to have babies?!?!?!
                              STAN
                              It's every man's right to have babies if he wants them.
                              REG
                              But you can't have babies.
                              STAN
                              Don't you oppress me.
                              REG
                              I'm not oppressing you, Stan -- you haven't got a womb. Where's the
                              fetus going to gestate? You going to keep it in a box?
                              (STAN starts crying.)
                              JUDITH
                              Here! I've got an idea. Suppose you agree that he can't actually have
                              babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans',
                              but that he can have the *right* to have babies.
                              FRANCIS
                              Good idea, Judith. We shall fight the oppressors for your right to have
                              babies, brother. Sister, sorry.
                              REG
                              What's the point?
                              FRANCIS
                              What?
                              REG
                              What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies, when he can't
                              have babies?
                              FRANCIS
                              It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.
                              REG
                              It's symbolic of his struggle against reality.


                              The Front's Demands Scene

                              (The interior of MATTHIAS'S HOUSE. A cellar-like room with a very
                              conspiratorial atmosphere. REG and STAN are seated at a table at one end of
                              the room. FRANCIS, dressed in commando gear -- black robes and a red sash
                              around his head -- is standing by a plan on the wall. He is addressing an
                              audience of about eight MASKED COMMANDOS. Their faces are partially hidden.)

                              FRANCIS
                              We get in through the underground heating system here ... up through to
                              the main audience chamber here ... and Pilate's wife's bedroom is here.
                              Having grabbed his wife, we inform Pilate that she is in our custody and
                              forthwith issue our demands. Any questions?
                              COMMANDO XERXES
                              What exactly are the demands?
                              REG
                              We're giving Pilate two days to dismantle the entire apparatus of the
                              Roman Imperialist State and if he doesn't agree immediately we execute her.

                              MATTHIAS
                              Cut her head of?
                              FRANCIS
                              Cut all her bits off, send 'em back every hour on the hour ... show him
                              we're not to be trifled with.
                              REG
                              Also, we're demanding a ten foot mahogany statue of the Emperor Julius
                              Caesar with his cock hanging out.
                              STAN
                              What? They'll never agree to that, Reg.
                              REG
                              That's just a bargaining counter. And of course, we point out that they
                              bear full responsibility when we chop her up, AND ... that we shall NOT
                              submit to blackmail.
                              ALL
                              (Applause) No blackmail!!!!
                              REG
                              They've bled us white, the bastards. They've taken everything we had,
                              not just from us, from our fathers and from our fathers' fathers.
                              STAN
                              And from our fathers' fathers' fathers.
                              REG
                              Yes.
                              STAN
                              And from our fathers' fathers' fathers' fathers.
                              REG
                              All right, Stan. Don't labour the point. And what have they ever given
                              us IN RETURN? (he pauses smugly)
                              XERXES
                              The aqueduct?
                              REG
                              What?
                              XERXES
                              The aqueduct.
                              REG
                              Oh yeah, yeah they gave us that. Yeah. That's true.
                              MASKED COMMANDO
                              And the sanitation!
                              STAN
                              Oh yes ... sanitation, Reg, you remember what the city used to be like.
                              REG
                              All right, I'll grant you that the aqueduct and the sanitation are two
                              things that the Romans HAVE done ...
                              MATTHIAS
                              And the roads ...
                              REG
                              (sharply) Well YES OBVIOUSLY the roads ... the roads go without saying.
                              But apart from the aqueduct, the sanitation and the roads ...
                              ANOTHER MASKED COMMANDO
                              Irrigation ...
                              OTHER MASKED VOICES
                              Medicine ... Education ... Health
                              REG
                              Yes ... all right, fair enough ...
                              COMMANDO NEARER THE FRONT
                              And the wine ...
                              GENERAL
                              Oh yes! True!
                              FRANCIS
                              Yeah. That's something we'd really miss if the Romans left, Reg.
                              MASKED COMMANDO AT BACK
                              Public baths!
                              STAN
                              AND it's safe to walk in the streets at night now.
                              FRANCIS
                              Yes, they certainly know how to keep order ...
                              (general nodding)
                              ... let's face it, they're the only ones who could in a place like this.
                              (more general murmurs of agreement)
                              REG
                              All right ... all right ... but apart from better sanitation and medicine
                              and education and irrigation and public health and roads and a freshwater
                              system and baths and public order ... what HAVE the Romans done for US?
                              XERXES
                              Brought peace!
                              REG
                              (very angry, he's not having a good meeting at all)
                              What!? Oh ... (scornfully) Peace, yes ... shut up!

                              Latin Lesson

                              Brian is writing a slogan to a wall, oblivious to the Roman patrol approaching
                              from behind. The slogan is "ROMANES EUNT DOMUS".

                              C: What's this thing?
                              "ROMANES EUNT DOMUS"?
                              "People called Romanes they go the house"?
                              B: It, it says "Romans go home".
                              C: No it doesn't. What's Latin for "Roman"?
                              B: (hesitates)
                              C: Come on, come on!
                              B: (uncertain) "ROMANUS".
                              C: Goes like?
                              B: "-ANUS".
                              C: Vocative plural of "-ANUS" is?
                              B: "-ANI".
                              C: (takes paintbrush from Brian and paints over) "RO-MA-NI".
                              "EUNT"? What is "EUNT"?
                              B: "Go".
                              C: Conjugate the verb "to go"!
                              B: "IRE". "EO", "IS", "IT", "IMUS", "ITIS", "EUNT".
                              C: So "EUNT" is ...?
                              B: Third person plural present indicative, "they go".
                              C: But "Romans, go home!" is an order, so you must use the ...?
                              (lifts Brian by his hairs)
                              B: The ... imperative.
                              C: Which is?
                              B: Ahm, oh, oh, "I", "I"!
                              C: How many romans? (pulls harder)
                              B: Plural, plural! "ITE".
                              C: (strikes over "EUNT" and paints "ITE" to the wall)
                              (satisfied) "I-TE".
                              "DOMUS"? Nominative? "Go home", this is motion towards, isn't it, boy?
                              B: (very anxious) Dative?
                              C: (draws his sword and holds it to Brian's throat)
                              B: Ahh! No, ablative, ablative, sir. No, the, accusative, accusative,
                              ah, DOMUM, sir.
                              C: Except that "DOMUS" takes the ...?
                              B: ... the locative, sir!
                              C: Which is?
                              B: "DOMUM".
                              C: (satisfied) "DOMUM" (strikes out "DOMUS" and writes "DOMUM") "-MUM".
                              Understand?
                              B: Yes sir.
                              C: Now write it down a hundred times.
                              B: Yes sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar, sir.
                              C: (salutes) Hail Caesar.
                              If it's not done by sunrise, I'll cut your balls off.
                              B: (very reliefed) Oh thank you sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar and
                              everything, sir!

                              The Brian in Jail Scene

                              (BRIAN wakes up with a smile on his face to find himself being dragged along a
                              cell corridor by TWO GUARDS. The horrible figure of the JAILER spits at him
                              and flings him into a dark damp cell, slamming the iron grate behind him and
                              turning the key hollowly in the lock. BRIAN slumps to the floor. A voice
                              comes out of the darkness behind him.)
                              BEN
                              You LUCKY bastard!
                              BRIAN
                              (spins around and peers into the gloom)
                              Who's that?
                              BEN
                              (In the darkness BRIAN just makes out an emaciated figure, suspended on the
                              wall, with his feet off the ground, by chains round his wrists. This is BEN.)
                              You lucky, lucky bastard.
                              BRIAN
                              What?
                              BEN
                              (with great bitterness) Proper little gaoler's pet, aren't we?
                              BRIAN
                              (ruffled) What do you mean?
                              BEN
                              You must have slipped him a few shekels, eh?
                              BRIAN
                              Slipped him a few shekels!? You saw him spit in my face!
                              BEN
                              Ohh! What wouldn't I give to be spat at in the face! I sometimes hang
                              awake at nights dreaming of being spat in the face.
                              BRIAN
                              Well, it's not exactly friendly, is it? They had me in manacles ...
                              BEN
                              Manacles! Oooh.
                              (his eyes go quite dreamy)
                              My idea of heaven is to be allowed to be put in manacles ... just for a
                              few hours. They must think the sun shines out of your arse, sonny!
                              BRIAN
                              Listen! They beat me up before they threw me in here.
                              BEN
                              Oh yeah? The only day they don't beat me up is on my birthday.
                              BRIAN
                              Oh shut up.
                              BEN
                              Well, your type makes me sick! You come in here, you get treated like
                              Royalty, and everyone outside thinks you're a bloody martyr.
                              BRIAN
                              Oh, lay off me ... I've had a hard time!
                              BEN
                              YOU'VE had a hard time! Listen, sonny! I've been here five years and
                              they only hung me the right way up yesterday!
                              BRIAN
                              All right! All right!
                              BEN
                              I just wish I had half your luck. They must think you're Lord God
                              Almighty!
                              BRIAN
                              What'll they do to me?
                              BEN
                              Oh, you'll probably get away with crucifixion.
                              BRIAN
                              Crucifixion!
                              BEN
                              Yeah, first offence.
                              BRIAN
                              Get away with crucifixion!
                              BEN
                              Best thing the Romans ever did for us.
                              BRIAN
                              (incredulous) What?
                              BEN
                              Oh yeah. If we didn't have crucifixion this country would be in a right
                              bloody mess I tell you.
                              BRIAN
                              (who can stand it no longer) Guard!
                              BEN
                              Nail 'em up I say!
                              BRIAN
                              (dragging himself over to the door) Guard!
                              BEN
                              Nail some sense into them!
                              GUARD
                              (looking through the bars) What do you want?
                              BRIAN
                              I want to be moved to another cell.
                              (GUARD spits in his face.)
                              BRIAN
                              Oh! (he recoils in helpless disgust)
                              BEN
                              Oh ... look at that! Bloody favouritism!
                              GUARD
                              Shut up, you!
                              BEN
                              Sorry! Sorry!
                              (he lowers his voice)
                              Now take my case. I've been here five years, and every night they take
                              me down for ten minutes, then they hang me up again ... which I regard as
                              very fair ... in view of what I done ... and if nothing else, it's taught
                              me to respect the Romans, and it's taught me that you'll never get
                              anywhere in life unless you're prepared to do a fair day's work for a fair
                              day's pay ...
                              BRIAN
                              Oh ... Shut up!
                              CENTURION
                              Pilate wants to see you.
                              BRIAN
                              Me?
                              CENTURION
                              Come on.
                              BRIAN
                              Pilate? What does he want to see me for?
                              CENTURION
                              I think he wants to know which way up you want to be crucified.
                              (He laughs. The TWO SOLDIERS smirk. BEN laughs uproariously.)
                              BEN
                              ... Nice one, centurion. Like it, like it.
                              CENTURION
                              (to BEN) Shut up! (BRIAN is hustled out. The door slams.)
                              BEN
                              Terrific race the Romans ... terrific.

                              The Pilate's Chamber Scene

                              (BRIAN is hauled into PILATE'S audience chamber. It is big and impressive,
                              although a certain amount of redecorating is underway. The CENTURION salutes.)

                              CENTURION
                              Hail Caesar.
                              PILATE
                              Hail Caesar.
                              CENTURION
                              Only one survivor, sir.
                              PILATE
                              Thwow him to the floor.
                              CENTURION
                              What sir?
                              PILATE
                              Thwow him to the floor.
                              CENTURION
                              Ah!
                              (He indicates to the two roman GUARDS who throw BRIAN to the ground.)
                              PILATE
                              Now, what is your name, Jew?
                              BRIAN
                              Brian.
                              PILATE
                              Bwian, eh?
                              BRIAN (trying to be helpful)
                              No, *BRIAN*.
                              (The CENTURION cuffs him.)
                              PILATE
                              The little wascal has spiwit.
                              CENTURION
                              Has what, sir?
                              PILATE
                              *SPIWIT*.
                              CENTURION
                              Yes, he did, sir.
                              PILATE
                              No, no, spiwit ... bwavado ... a touch of dewwing-do.
                              CENTURION (still not really understanding)
                              Ah. About eleven, sir.
                              PILATE (to BRIAN)
                              So you dare to waid us.
                              BRIAN (rising to his feet)
                              To what?
                              PILATE
                              Stwike him, centuwion, vewwy woughly.
                              CENTURION
                              And throw him to the floor, sir?
                              PILATE
                              What?
                              CENTURION
                              THWOW him to the floor again, sir?
                              PILATE
                              Oh yes. Thwow him to the floor.
                              (The CENTURION knocks BRIAN hard on the side of the head again and the TWO
                              GUARDS throw him to the floor.)
                              PILATE
                              Now, Jewish wapscallion.
                              BRIAN
                              I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Roman!
                              PILATE
                              *WOMAN*?
                              BRIAN
                              No, *ROMAN*.
                              (But he's not quick enough to avoid another blow from the CENTURION.)
                              PILATE
                              So, your father was a *WOMAN*. Who was he?
                              BRIAN (proudly)
                              He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrison.
                              PILATE
                              Oh. What was his name?
                              BRIAN
                              Nortius Maximus.
                              (An involuntary titter arises from the CENTURION.)
                              PILATE
                              Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
                              CENTURION
                              Well ... no sir.
                              PILATE
                              You sound vewwy sure ... have you checked?
                              CENTURION
                              Well ... no sir ... I think it's a joke, sir ... like ... Sillius Soddus
                              or ... Biggus Dickus.
                              PILATE
                              What's so funny about Biggus Dickus?
                              CENTURION
                              Well ... it's a ... joke name, sir.
                              PILATE
                              I have a vewwy gweat fwend in Wome called Biggus Dickus.
                              (Involuntary laughter from a nearby GUARD surprises PILATE.)
                              PILATE
                              Silence! What is all this insolence? You will find yourself in
                              gladiator school vewwy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.
                              (The GUARD tries to stop giggling. PILATE turns away from him. He is angry.)
                              BRIAN
                              Can I go now sir ...
                              (The CENTURION strikes him.)
                              PILATE
                              Wait till Biggus hears of this!
                              (The GUARD immediately breaks up again. PILATE turns on him.)
                              PILATE
                              Wight! Centuwion ... take him away.
                              CENTURION
                              Oh sir, he only ...
                              PILATE
                              I want him fighting wabid wild animals within a week.
                              CENTURION
                              Yes, sir.
                              (He starts to drag out the wretched GUARD. BRIAN notices that little
                              attention is being paid to him.)
                              PILATE
                              I will not have my fwends widiculed by the common soldiewy.
                              (He walks slowly towards the other GUARDS.)
                              PILATE
                              Now ... anyone else feel like a little giggle when I mention my fwend ...
                              (He goes right up to one of the GUARDS.)
                              Biggus ... Dickus. He has a wife you know.
                              (The GUARDS tense up.)
                              Called Incontinentia.
                              (The GUARDS relax.)
                              Incontinentia Buttocks!
                              (The GUARDS fall about laughing. BRIAN takes advantage of the chaos to slip
                              away.)
                              PILATE
                              Silence! I've had enough of this wowdy wabble webel behaviour. Stop it!
                              Call yourselves Pwaetonian guards. Silence!
                              (But the GUARDS are all hysterical by now. PILATE notices BRIAN escaping.)
                              PILATE
                              You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps. Seize him! Blow your noses and seize
                              him! Oh my bum.

                              The Market Haggling Scene

                              (After BRIAN has escaped the CENTURIONS, he runs off towards the crowded
                              market square. At one end of the market there is a speakers' corner, with
                              many strangely bearded and oddly dressed PROPHETS attempting to attract an
                              audience. The noisiest or the most controversial are clearly doing best at
                              attracting PASSERS-BY. A STRANGE FIGURE with a rasta hairstyle, covered in
                              mud, and with two severed hands on a pole waves wildly at the audience.)
                              BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET
                              ... and shall ride forth on a serpents' back, and the eyes shall be red
                              with the blood of living creatures, and the whore of Babylon shall rise
                              over the hill of excitement and throughout the land there will be a great
                              rubbing of parts ...
                              (Beside him, another PROPHET with red hair, none the less fierce, is trying to
                              attract some of the BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET'S audience.)
                              FALSE PROPHET
                              And he shall bear a nine-bladed sword. Nine-bladed. Not two. Or five
                              or seven, but nine, which he shall wield on all wretched sinners and that
                              includes you sir, and the horns shall be on the head ...
                              (In front of each PROPHET is a ROMAN GUARD, clearly bored but there to break
                              up any trouble. BRIAN races into the market place. A cohort of ROMANS are
                              searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down PASSERS-BY.
                              BRIAN appears near a rather dull little PROPHET, who is standing underneath
                              the high window that backs out of MATTHIAS' house, the revolutionary HQ.
                              BORING PROPHET
                              And there shall in that time be rumours of things going astray, and there
                              will be a great confusion as to where things really are, and nobody will
                              really know where lieth those little things with the sort of raffia work
                              base, that has an attachment they will not be there.
                              (Across the square the ROMANS appear, searching. BRIAN spots HARRY, the beard
                              salesman and moves towards his stall, an idea forming in his mind.)
                              (The BORING PROPHET drones on and on.)
                              BORING PROPHET
                              At this time a friend shall lose his friends's hammer and the young shall
                              not know where lieth the things possessed by their fathers that their
                              fathers put there only just the night before ...
                              (BRIAN runs up to HARRY the beard seller's stall and hurriedly grabs an
                              artificial beard.)
                              BRIAN
                              How much? Quick!
                              HARRY
                              What?
                              BRIAN
                              It's for the wife.
                              HARRY
                              Oh. Twenty shekels.
                              BRIAN
                              Right.
                              HARRY
                              What?
                              BRIAN
                              (as he puts down 20 shekels) There you are.
                              HARRY
                              Wait a moment.
                              BRIAN
                              What?
                              HARRY
                              We're supposed to haggle.
                              BRIAN
                              No, no, I've got to ...
                              HARRY
                              What do you mean, no?
                              BRIAN
                              I haven't time, I've got to get ...
                              HARRY
                              Give it back then.
                              BRIAN
                              No, no, I paid you.
                              HARRY
                              Burt! (BURT appears. He is very big.)
                              BURT
                              Yeah!
                              HARRY
                              This bloke won't haggle.
                              BURT
                              (looking around) Where are the guards?
                              BRIAN
                              Oh, all right ... I mean do we have to ...
                              HARRY
                              Now I want twenty for that ...
                              BRIAN
                              I gave you twenty.
                              HARRY
                              Now are you telling me that's not worth twenty shekels?
                              BRIAN
                              No.
                              HARRY
                              Feel the quality, that's none of yer goat.
                              BRIAN
                              Oh ... I'll give you nineteen then.
                              HARRY
                              No, no. Do it properly.
                              BRIAN
                              What?
                              HARRY
                              Haggle properly. This isn't worth nineteen.
                              BRIAN
                              You just said it was worth twenty.
                              HARRY
                              Burt!!
                              BRIAN
                              I'll give you ten.
                              HARRY
                              That's more like it. (outraged) Ten!? Are you trying to insult me?
                              Me? With a poor dying grandmother ... Ten!?!
                              BRIAN
                              Eleven.
                              HARRY
                              Now you're getting it. Eleven!?! Did I hear you right? Eleven? This
                              cost me twelve. You want to ruin me.
                              BRIAN
                              Seventeen.
                              HARRY
                              Seventeen!
                              BRIAN
                              Eighteen?
                              HARRY
                              No, no, no. You go to fourteen now.
                              BRIAN
                              Fourteen.
                              HARRY
                              Fourteen, are you joking?
                              BRIAN
                              That's what you told me to say.
                              (HARRY registers total despair.)
                              Tell me what to say. Please.
                              HARRY
                              Offer me fourteen.
                              BRIAN
                              I'll give you fourteen.
                              HARRY
                              (to onlookers) He's offering me fourteen for this!
                              BRIAN
                              Fifteen.
                              HARRY
                              Seventeen. My last word. I won't take a penny less, or strike me dead.
                              BRIAN
                              Sixteen.
                              HARRY
                              Done. (He grasps BRIAN'S hand and shakes it.) Nice to do business with
                              you. Tell you what, I'll throw in this as well. (He gives BRIAN a gourd.)

                              BRIAN
                              I don't want it but thanks.
                              HARRY
                              Burt!
                              BURT
                              (appearing rapidly) Yes?
                              BRIAN
                              All right! All right!! Thank you.
                              HARRY
                              Where's the sixteen then?
                              BRIAN
                              I already gave you twenty.
                              HARRY
                              Oh yes ... that's four I owe you then. (starts looking for change)
                              BRIAN
                              ... It's all right, it doesn't matter.
                              HARRY
                              Hang on.
                              (Pause as HARRY can't find change. BRIAN sees a pair of prowling ROMANS.)
                              BRIAN
                              It's all right, that's four for the gourd -- that's fine!
                              HARRY
                              Four for the gourd. Four!!!! Look at it, that's worth ten if it's worth
                              a shekel.
                              BRIAN
                              You just gave it to me for nothing.
                              HARRY
                              Yes, but it's *worth* ten.
                              BRIAN
                              All right, all right.
                              HARRY
                              No, no, no. It's not worth ten. You're supposed to argue. "What? Ten
                              for that, you must be mad!"
                              (BRIAN pays ten, runs off with the gourd, and fixes the beard on his face.)
                              Ah, well there's one born every minute.

                              Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

                              Cheer up, Brian. You know what they say.
                              Some things in life are bad,
                              They can really make you mad.
                              Other things just make you swear and curse.
                              When you're chewing on life's gristle,
                              Don't grumble, give a whistle!
                              And this'll help things turn out for the best...
                              And...

                              (the music fades into the song)

                              ..always look on the bright side of life!
                              (whistle)

                              Always look on the bright side of life...
                              If life seems jolly rotten,
                              There's something you've forgotten!
                              And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing,

                              When you're feeling in the dumps,
                              Don't be silly chumps,
                              Just purse your lips and whistle -- that's the thing!
                              And... always look on the bright side of life...

                              (whistle)
                              Come on!

                              (other start to join in)
                              Always look on the bright side of life...
                              (whistle)

                              For life is quite absurd,
                              And death's the final word.
                              You must always face the curtain with a bow!
                              Forget about your sin -- give the audience a grin,
                              Enjoy it -- it's the last chance anyhow!

                              So always look on the bright side of death!
                              Just before you draw your terminal breath.
                              Life's a piece of shit,
                              When you look at it.

                              Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true,
                              You'll see it's all a show,
                              Keep 'em laughing as you go.
                              Just remember that the last laugh is on you!

                              And always look on the bright side of life...
                              (whistle)
                              Always look on the bright side of life
                              (whistle)




                              ------------------
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