Mrs
Nigger-Baiter: Ooh, he's a clever little boy - he's a clever little boy. (gets out a rattle) Do you like your rattle? Do you like your rattle? Look at his little eyes following it ... look at his iggy piggy piggy little eyeballs eh... oo... he'
s got a tubby tumotum. Oh, he's got a tubby tum-tum.
Son: (whilst Mrs
Nigger-Baiter is talking) Mother, could I have a quick cup of tea please. I have an important statement on Rhodesia to make in the Commons at six.
(Sound of an explosion out of vision. Cut to reveal Mrs
Nigger-Baiter's chair charred and smoking. Mrs
Nigger-Baiter is no longer there. The upholstery is smouldering gently.)
Mrs Shazam: Oh, Mrs Nigger-Baiter's exploded.
Son: Good thing, too.