Ronnie Corbett: There you are. Mind how you go.

(Woman exits. RB enters — a workman. Not too bright either.) Yes, sir?

Ronnie Barker: Four candles?

RC: Four candles? Yes, sir. (He gets four candles from a drawer.) There you are.

RB: No, fork handles.

RC: Four candles, That’s four candles!

RB: No, fork handles — handles for forks.

RC: Oh, fork handles. (He gets a garden fork handle from the back of the shop.) Anything else?

RB: (Looks at his list.) Got any plugs?

RC: What sort of plugs?

RB: Bathroom — rubber one.

(RC gets box of bath plugs, holds up two different sizes.)

RC: What size?

RB: Thirteen amp!

RC: Oh, electric plugs! (Gets electric plug from drawer.) What else?

RB: Saw tips.

RC: Saw tips? What you want, ointment?

RB: No, tips to cover the saw.

RC: Oh. No, we ain’t got any.

RB: Oh. Got any hoes?

RC: Hoes? Yeah. (He gets a garden hoe from the garden department.)

RB: No — hose.

RC: Oh, hose. I thought you meant hoes. (He gets a roll of garden hose.)

RB: No, hose.

RC: (Gives him a dirty look.) What hose? (He gets a packet of ladies’ tights from a display stand.) Pantie-hose, you mean?

RB: No, ‘O’s! — letter ‘O’s — letters for the gate.

RC: Why didn’t you say so? (He gets ladder, climbs up to cupboard high up on wall, gets down box of letters.) Now, ‘O’s — here we are — two?

RB: Yeah.

RC: Right. (He takes box back up ladder and returns.) Next?

RB: Got any ‘P’s?

RC: Oh, my Gawd. Why didn’t you bleedin’ say while I’d got the box of letters down here? I’m working me guts out here climbing about all over the shop, putting things back and then gettin’ em out again. Now then. (He is back with the box.) How many — two?

RB: No — peas. Three tins of peas.

RC: You’re having me on, ain’t yer? Ain’t yer! (He gets three tins of peas.)

RB: No, I ain’t. I meant tinned peas.

RC: Right. Now what?

RB: Pumps?

RC: Pumps? ’And pumps or foot pumps?

RB: Feet.

RC: Foot pumps. Right. (He goes off, returns with foot pump.) Right.

RB: No, pumps for your feet! Brown pumps, size nine.

RC: You are having me on. I’ve had enough of this. (He gets them from drawer.) Is that the lot?

RB: Washers

RC: (Exasperated.) Windscreen washers, car washers? Dishwashers? Hair washers? Back scrubbers? Lavatory cleaners? Floor washers?

RB: Half-inch washers!

RC: Tap washers! Here, give me the list. I’m fed up with this. (He reads list and reacts.) Right! That does it. That’s the final insult. (Calls through door.) Elsie! Come and serve this customer — I’ve had enough!

(RC stalks off. Elsie enters — a big, slovenly woman with a very large bosom. She takes the list. Reads it.)

Elsie: Right, sir — what sort of knockers are you looking for?

• Extracted from All I Ever Wrote: The Complete Works of Ronnie Barker, Sidgwick & Jackson, £14.99