A/N - I realized I've kind of been disregarding Terry Gilliam's existence a bit. I apologize for this. '~' I plead insanity. Anyway, anytime I refer to 'the five Pythons' it means minus Gilliam, given that he is mostly the animator. To make up for this, though, I've given him quite a few nice lines in this next sketch. Wish him luck.
Terry Gilliam sitting at a desk dressed as a Viking.
Gilliam - (feminine voice) And now, we go to the streets to once again get the raw public's opinion.
Eric Idle dressed as a schoolboy standing awkwardly in the street.
Idle - ...I'd like to see...(giggle)...big bottoms.
John Cleese dressed in business attire standing in the street.
Cleese - Well, I would like to see...(suppressed grin)...big bottoms.
Medieval Knight walked in a clubs him with a raw chicken. Back to Terry Gilliam.
Gilliam - (feminine voice) I think that's enough of the man on the street... Well, how about the letters sent in from our viewers?
A series of letters are shown [accompanied by assorted voices] that read the following:
Dear sir, I think that what I wish to see anything on this program, it's less naughty opinions. I mean, who would really get on television and say that they want to see big bottoms? I think these people are scripted, and should be taken off of this program immediately. PS-Any women watching this show with big bottoms should make their way 'round to my place immediately.
Dear sir, I wish to object to the last letter shown on this program as it is highly hypocritical.
Dear sir, I wish to object to the last letter shown on this program as it is highly nag-ocritical.
Dear sir, I wish to object to the last letter shown on this program as it's grammar is atrocious merely so it matches up with the previous one.
Dear sir, I wish to object to the past three letters as they do not at all address the task at hand.
Dear sir, I wish to object to the last letter shown on this program as it's highly hypocritical. Sincerely, the writer of the second letter.
Dear sir, I wish to apologize for my last letter as it was highly hypocritical. What I wish to see on this program is women with big bottoms. Sincerely, the writer of the fifth letter.
Dear sir, I wish to disagree with whoever wrote the last letter. They shouldn't waste their time on television, but instead come 'round to my place. Sincerely, the writer of the first letter.
Back to Terry Gilliam.
Gilliam - (feminine voice) (chuckles, embarrassed)...What does the raw public know anyway?
John Cleese - (suddenly sitting a desk adjacent to Gilliam's) I quite agree, we should just go along and see how we do on our own. (looks up at camera) And now for something completely different. (looks back to Gilliam casually) Want to grab some lunch?
The five 'Pythons' are seen standing around the pink lawn chair on some random dock on the sea, chatting casually. The shot flashes to the five of them and the lawn chair silhouetted against the sunset. Suddenly, the dock spontaneously collapses and the five of them are plunged into the sea and grasp desperately onto- you guessed it -the lawn chair (which is defying physics and acting as a perfect flotation device). Now the shot closes up on the lawn chair out at sea, the five Pythons clinging to various edges of it, tired and fearful.
Palin - Captain, I don't think we can make it much longer; we need to rest somehow.
Cleese - I told you, I'm not your captain. We were never even on a ship! Anyway, I don't see how we can have any rest without a boat, so shut your damn mouth, Palin!
Jones - Don't talk to him like that!
Cleese - ...Sorry, Mike.
Palin - It's alright, Captain.
Cleese - I not your-...oh nevermind. I guess we're all tired and I'm a bit on edge. (everyone seems to be looking to him expectantly) Why do you all expect me to take the lead?
Idle - You're our captain!
Cleese - No, I'm not.
Idle - *sigh* I know.
Palin - (pause, then suddenly) ...It doesn't matter if you're Captain or not! (everyone looks at him, surprised) Well, I mean...you're John freaking Cleese! You-...you can do anything!
Chapman - (catching on) Yes! Who was it that taught all those men how to defend themselves against fresh fruit?
Cleese - (mumbling) Me.
Chapman - And who complained until he was blue in the mouth just to get his dead parrot justified?
Cleese - (growing confidence) I did.
Chapman - And who spent all that time speaking to an idiot, listing cheese after cheese, only to come to the conclusion that this man owned no cheese?
Cleese - (with full confidence) I did, then I shot him in the head!
Empowering music begins to play, getting slowly louder.
Idle - Yes! You did all those things! And that's why you're our leader! Our...'captain'!
Cleese - You're right! I can lead us to safety! Come on, men, start kicking! Head towards the sunset; there should be civilization to the west!
The Pythons begin paddling themselves, and the lawn chair, in the direction of the sunset, and cross the border into Irish territory, only to be surrounded by several Irish coast guard ships.
Cleese - I've done it! I've saved us all! We're safe!
The Irish then shoot them all dead.
Gilliam - (dressed as an Irish policeman) Bluddy redcoats. O, but that be a nice lawn chair, there, laddy! Pull 'er in!
The lawn chair is brought aboard Gilliam's ship and they head back to Ireland.
Jones - (extremely dramatic voice-over) What will become of our beloved lawn chair, now that it has crossed into Irish territory? Don't touch that dial! We'll find out when the program returns!