The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse2005

Geoff Tipps:
What're ya doing? King! King! There's an old feller in the toilet!

Tom Tit:
'Tis only I sir; Tom Tit.

Geoff Tipps:
Who?

Tom Tit:
Tom Tit, the night soil man. Guardian of the royal stool. It's my function to take away your leavings.

Geoff Tipps:
I can't go with you lookin' up me bum.

Tom Tit:
If I might be so bold sir, there are ways of easing the passage. [singing in falsetto and playing a piano] Come out, come out, reluctant stool. Play not your maker for a fool. Oh, naughty guts, let go your prize. Let's cut this bum egg down to size.