Did you go for pleasure, or did the wife go too?

THE SKETCH: HUMPHREY & GODFREY

Ronnie Corbett (Humphrey) and Ronnie barker (Godfrey) are in armchairs in their London club.

RC: RC I say, Godfrey.

RB: RB What is it, Humphrey?

RC: RC My doctor has advised me to give up gol golf.

RB: RB Why? Did he examine your heart?

RC: RC No, he had a look at my scorecard.

RB: RB Ah. Does he play at all?

RC: RC My doctor? Yes. Terrible cheat. He alw always puts down one stroke less than he actually took. We caught him out the oth other day, though.

RB RB: How was that?

RC: He got a hole in one and he put down nought.

RB: I say, Humphrey.

RC: What is it, Godfrey?

RB: You know, no matter how hot the day is, at night it gets dark.

RC: Yes. It’s the same in America.

RB: Just come back, haven’t you?

RC: Mm. RB: Did you go for pleasure, or did the wife go with you?

RC: Went alone. Very grand hotel.

RB: Really?

RC: Yes. So grand that even the guests have to use the service entrance.

RB: That is grand.

RC: Funny people, the Americans, though. On the plane going over, a woman collapsed. Doctor, sitting on one side of her, refused to help. Said he was on holiday.

RB: Amazing.

RC: Chap sitting other side of her said: ‘That’s disgraceful.’ Doctor said: ‘Would you carry on your profession if you were on holiday?’ ‘ I certainly would,’ said the other chap. ‘Alright, what is your profession?’ he said. ‘I’m a fishmonger,’ said the other chap, and he picked the woman up, loosened her clothing and sold her two pounds of haddock.

RC: I say, Godfrey.

RB: What is it, Humphrey?

RC: You’ve got your shoes on the wrong feet.

RB: Impossible. These are the only feet I’ve got. Anyway, my head’s in no fit state to think about my feet.

RC: Hungover?

RB: Absolutely draped, old chap.

RC: Well, cheer up old lad — no one ever died of a hangover.

RB: Don’t say that, Humphrey. It’s only the hope of dying that’s keeping me alive.

RC: Who were you with, Godfrey?

RB: Geoffrey, Humphrey. We both left the party together. He was so drunk I couldn’t see him. I took him to the West End for coffee.

RC: Should never give coffee to a drunk. All you get is a wideawake drunk. Is he better now?

RB: Getting better. He’s in hospital.

RC: Hospital? Why?

RB: We were sitting on Westminster Bridge, playing who could lean over the farthest, and he won.