Plot
The sketch begins with the following on-screen text: "In 1970, the British Empire lay in ruins, and foreign nationals frequented the streets—many of them Hungarians (not the streets—the foreign nationals). Anyway, many of these Hungarians went into tobacconist's shops to buy cigarettes...."
A Hungarian enters a tobacconist's shop carrying a phrasebook and begins a dialogue with the tobacconist; he wants to buy some cigarettes but his phrasebook is poorly written and the translations of his desired phrases do not resemble in the slightest what he wants to say. Many of them are plainly bizarre and some of them are mildly sexual in nature (for example: "do you want to go to my place—bouncy-bouncy?"). After the customer has conveyed his desire in gestures, the tobacconist looks in the phrasebook to find a Hungarian translation for "six and six" (i.e. six shillings and six pence); he reads out the (fake) Hungarian sentence Yandelavasa grldenwi stravenka, which provokes the Hungarian to punch him in the face. The scene cuts to a policeman standing a considerable distance away, who hears the punch. He runs several blocks, and arrests the Hungarian, who protests absurdly: "My nipples explode with delight!"
The Hungarian is apparently released, and instead the publisher of the phrasebook is taken to court, where he pleads "not guilty" of actions tending to provoke a breach of the peace. After the prosecutor reads some samples from the book, pointing out that the Hungarian phrase, "Can you direct me to the station?" is translated by the English phrase, "Please fondle my bum", the publisher changes his plea to "incompetence."
Read more about this topic: Dirty Hungarian Phrasebook
Famous quotes containing the word plot:
“The westward march has stopped, upon the final plains of the Pacific; and now the plot thickens ... with the change, the pause, the settlement, our people draw into closer groups, stand face to face, to know each other and be known.”
—Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924)
“There comes a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better for worse as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given him to till.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“Those blessed structures, plot and rhyme—
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?”
—Robert Lowell (1917–1977)