The Rutles: All You Need Is Cash

Stanley J. Krammerhead:
Listen, looking at it very simply musicology and ethnically, the Rutles were essentially imperical malengistes of a rhythmically radical yet verbally pass? and temporally transcended lyrically content welded with historically innovative melodical material transposed and transmogrified by the angst of the Rutland ethic experience which elevated them from essentially alpha exponents of in essence merely beta potential harmonic material into the prime cultural exponents of Aeolian cadencic comic stanza form

[answers to reporter's question, "What's your ambition?"]

Barry Wom:
I'd like to be a hairdresser. Or two. I'd like to be two hairdressers.

Ron Nasty:
[sullenly] I'd like to own a squadron of tanks.

Dirk McQuickly:
What Ron and I'll do is probably to write some songs, you know, and sell them to people.

[on manager Leggy Mountbatten's discovery of the Rutles]

Iris Mountbatten:
Well, he told me that he'd been to see these young men in a dark cellar.

Narrator:
Yes.

Iris Mountbatten:
He was always very interested in young men.

Narrator:
Oh, yes.

Iris Mountbatten:
Youth clubs, Boy Scouts, that sort of thing.

Narrator:
Yes.

Iris Mountbatten:
But these, he said, were different.

Narrator:
In what way?

Iris Mountbatten:
Their hair, and... their presence... and their music...

Narrator:
He liked it?

Iris Mountbatten:
No, he hated it.

Narrator:
What did he like?

Iris Mountbatten:
Well, em... the trousers.

Narrator:
What about their trousers?

Iris Mountbatten:
Well, they were, eh, they were very, em... tight.

Reporter:
It must have been a great honor, meeting the queen.

Ron Nasty:
Yes, it must have been.

Reporter:
What did she ask you?

Barry Wom:
She asked us who we were. And then to get out.

Reporter:
What did you say?

Dirk McQuickly:
[pointing at Ron Nasty] I said I was him.

[on manager Leggy Mountbatten's emigration to Australia]

Narrator:
It was a bombshell for the Rutles. They were shocked... and stunned.

Dirk McQuickly:
Well, we're shocked.

Ron Nasty:
Yeah, shocked.

Barry Wom:
Shocked.

Dirk McQuickly:
And stunned.

Ron Nasty:
Yeah, stunned.

Barry Wom:
Very stunned.

Reporter:
Did Arthur Sultan have any words of encouragement for you?

Ron Nasty:
No.

Dirk McQuickly:
Well, yeah.

Ron Nasty:
Well, yeah and no... he said, uh, that it took all sorts to make a world, and that we shouldn't worry unduly about where he'd gone.

Dirk McQuickly:
You know, we shouldn't become covered with grief at thoughts of Australia, because ...

Ron Nasty:
He did say that we could still keep in touch with him by tapping the table.

Dirk McQuickly:
And postcards.

Ron Nasty:
Yeah.

Barry Wom:
Very stunned.

[Ron Nasty and wife Chastity are giving a press conference in Nasty's shower]

Ron Nasty:
We're doing this for peace, and basically to show that the world is, you know, going astray in its thinking.

Reporter:
What are you doing?

Ron Nasty:
We're getting wet. In a shower. Because, basically, we talked it over, Chastity and myself, and we came to the conclusion that civilization is nothing more than an effective sewage system. And so by the use of plumbing we hope to demonstrate this to the world.

Narrator:
Mick, why do you think the Rutles broke up?

Mick Jagger:
Why do I think they did? Why did the Rutles break up? Women. Just women. Getting in the way. Cherchez la femme, you know.

Narrator:
Do you think they'll ever get back together again?

Mick Jagger:
I hope not.

Narrator:
Stig, meanwhile, had hidden in the background so much that in 1969, a rumor went around that he was dead. He was supposed to have been killed in a flash fire at a waterbed shop and replaced by a plastic and wax replica from Madame Tusseaud's. Several so-called "facts" helped the emergence of this rumor. One: he never said anything publicly. Even as the "quiet one," he'd not said a word since 1966. Two: on the cover of their latest album, "Shabby Road," he is wearing no trousers, an Italian way of indicating death. Three: Nasty supposedly sings "I buried Stig" on "I Am The Waitress." In fact, he sings, "E burres stigano," which is very bad Spanish for "Have you a water buffalo?" Four: On the cover of the "Sergeant Rutter" album, Stig is leaning in the exact position of a dying Yeti, from the Rutland Book of the Dead. Five: If you sing the title of "Sergeant Rutter's Only Darts Club Band" backwards, it's supposed to sound very like "Stig has been dead for ages, honestly." In fact, it sounds uncannily like "Dnab Bulc Ylno S'rettur Tnaegres." Palpable nonsense.

Narrator:
In the midst of all this public bickering, "Let it Rot" was released as a film, an album, and a lawsuit. In 1970, Dirk sued Stig, Nasty, and Barry; Barry sued Dirk, Nasty, and Stig; Nasty sued Barry, Dirk, and Stig; and Stig sued himself accidentally. It was the beginning of a golden era for lawyers, but for the Rutles, live on a London rooftop, it was the beginning of the end.

Narrator:
And you turned down the Rutles.

Brian Thigh:
Yeah, yeah.

[beat]

Narrator:
What's it like being an a**hole?

Narrator:
In 1966 the Rutles faced the biggest threat to their careers. Nasty in a widely quoted interview had apparently claimed that the Rutles were bigger than God, and was reported to have gone on to say that God had never had a hit record. The story spread like wildfire in America. Many fans burnt their albums, many more burnt their fingers attempting to burn their albums. Album sales skyrocketed, People were buying them just to burn them. But in fact it was all a ghastly mistake. Nasty, talking to a slightly deaf journalist, had claimed only that the Rutles were bigger than Rod. Rod Stewart would not be big for another eight years, and certainly at this stage hadn't had a hit. At a press conference, Nasty apologised to God, Rod and the Press, and the tour went ahead as planned. It would be the Rutles' last.

Reporter:
Do you feel better after seeing the Queen?

Ron Nasty:
No, you feel better after seeing the doctor!

Dirk McQuickly:
Not my doctor you don't!

Ron Nasty:
No, not your doctor.

Archie Macaw, Record Producer:
Well, one day this rather odd chap hopped into the office. He'd been to see virtually everyone in the business and been shown the door. He asked to see MY door, but I wouldn't show it to him. Instead, he showed me the photographs and tapes of the Rutles. They were pretty rough, but they had something.

Narrator:
What was it?

Archie Macaw, Record Producer:
I think it was the trousers.

Eric Manchester, Rutle Corp. Press Agent:
Suddenly, everyone became amazingly litigious. I remember I'd get up in the morning. Sue someone. Check in the papers that I hadn't been fired. Go to the office. Sue someone. Pick up the morning's writs. Sue the bank. Go out for lunch. Sue the restaurant. Get back in, collect the writs that had been received that afternoon. Read the papers. Phone the papers. Sue the papers. Then go home. Sue the wife.