The Plib (Peter Cook as E L Whisty)
I was talking to you about my plans to think of something absolutely new and revolutionary which would change the whole face of the world. Well, I just thought of it. It's called the plib. It's an amazing thing, the plib, I thought of it in the bath. It's very simple and small and amazing. It's very peculiar that nobody thought of it before. It's about quarter of an inch long and quarter of an inch wide, and it's completely round and white. And what you do is drop it into a glass of water and it fizzes. Then, you drink down the plibby substance, and it cures you of anything. Isn't that wonderful? If you've got rheumatism in the knees, all you have to do is take one plib and within seconds and all your troubles are over. And the amazing thing is that it works for every kind of disease. It's a really wonderful invention, the plib. I went along to the patent office with it yesterday to register it in my name. I went in there and I said "Excuse me, I've just invented the plib and I want to get it patented before anybody steals the idea." And they said "Oh yes, what exactly is this plib of yours?" So I explained to them what it was and they were very interested and asked to see one. So I had to tell them I hadn't exactly made one yet. It was still in the 'ideas stage'. What I wanted to do was to patent the idea first and then do the research to get the plib into production. They said that wasn't possible unless I actually made a working plib. I'd never heard such rubbish in my life! It's the people who have the ideas who deserve all the credit. I mean, anyone can make a rotten old wooden wheel, but it takes brains to think of the idea of the wheel. I wonder what happened to poor old Einstein? He had that wonderful idea about splitting the atom and causing enormous explosions. I suppose if he came along to the patent office with his diagrams, they'd've said "Ah, I'm sorry Mr. Einstein, but I'm afraid you'll have to show us one of your explosions before we can grant you a patent." Serve them bloody well right if he'd blown them up. I shouldn't think he ever managed to get the idea patented. Very sad really, he ought to be getting sixpence ever time there's an atomic explosion. They cheat you out of everything these days. I tried arguing with them but it was no good. I said, "Look here, my good man, if you don't register my plib, I'll get on to my very good friend the Duke of Windsor, he'll come round and smash you round the face". And he said "Oh really? How very interesting. Perhaps you'd like to have a look at a very new invention that's just come in". I said I would. And he reached under his desk and got out a long spindly pole with a sponge on the end of it, covered in horrible sticky muck -- I think it was fig jam. He said "This is a very fascinating device that we in the patent office call a 'nit-poker'". Then he banged me in the face with it and kicked me down stairs. I don't think government officials should be allowed to behave like that. I shouldn't be surprised if he hadn't stolen my idea about the plib.
I'm constantly wanting to refer to The Plib, but no one seems to have transcribed it onto the Internet, so I've done it myself.