It's not Football but ...

A silly something for Python fans to enjoy - hopefully. I stole a "Cheese Shop" sketch off the web and tweaked it somewhat - I present "The Beer Shop Sketch":

The Scene:
An Edwardian-style bar which carries the signs:'Ye Olde Beer Emporium';'Henry Boddington, Purveyor of Fine Beers to the Gentry and the Poverty Stricken Too';'Licensed for Public Dancing';Two men dressed as city gents are Greek dancing in the corner to the music of a bouzouki.Mousebender enters.

MOUSEBENDER:
Good Morning.
BODDINGTON:
Good morning, sir. Welcome to the National Beer Emporium.
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah, thank you my good man.
BODDINGTON:
What can I do for you, sir?
MOUSEBENDER:
Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Melbourne Street just now, skimming through Rogue Herries by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over all parched.
BODDINGTON:
Parched, sir?
MOUSEBENDER:
Dehydrated.
BODDINGTON:
Eh?
MOUSEBENDER:
(In a broad Yorkshire accent) Eee I were all thirsty, like.
BODDINGTON:
Ah, thirsty.
MOUSEBENDER:
In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, 'a little fermented water will do the trick'. So I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some alcoholic comestibles.
BODDINGTON:
Come again?
MOUSEBENDER:
I want to buy some beer.
BODDINGTON:
Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bouzouki player.
MOUSEBENDER:
Oh, heaven forbid. I am one who delights in all manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse.
BODDINGTON:
Sorry?
MOUSEBENDER:
(In a broad Yorkshire accent) Ooo, I like a nice tune - you're forced to.
BODDINGTON:
So he can go on playing, can he?
MOUSEBENDER:
Most certainly. Now then, some beer please, my good man.
BODDINGTON:
Certainly, sir. What would you like?
MOUSEBENDER:
Well, eh, how about a little Copper Dragon?
BODDINGTON:
I'm afraid we're fresh out of Copper Dragon, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Oh never mind, how are you on Salamander?
BODDINGTON:
I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir. We get it fresh on Monday.
MOUSEBENDER:
Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, 20 fluid ounces of Wye Valley, if you please.
BODDINGTON:
Ah. It's been on order, sir, for two weeks. I was expecting it this morning.
MOUSEBENDER:
It's not my lucky day, is it? Er, Youngs?
BODDINGTON:
Sorry, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Flowers?
BODDINGTON:
Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah. Moorhouses?
BODDINGTON:
Sorry.
MOUSEBENDER:
Jennings? Rudgate?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Any Norwegian Hansa Lager, per chance?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Hanby?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Holts?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Hook Norton?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Danish Tuborg?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Greene King?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Robinsons?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Dorset Brewing Company?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Busheys, Elgoods, Everards, Exmoor, Felinfoel, Camerons, Burton Bridge, Dark Star, Daleside?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Jenlain, perhaps?
BODDINGTON:
Ah! We have Jenlain, yes sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
You do! Excellent.
BODDINGTON:
Yes, sir. It's, ah ..... it's a bit green.
MOUSEBENDER:
Oh, I like it green.
BODDINGTON:
Well, it's very green, actually, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
No matter. Fetch hither le biere de la Belle France! M-mmm!
BODDINGTON:
I think it's a bit greener than you'll like it, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
I don't care how fucking green it is. Hand it over with all speed.
BODDINGTON:
Oh .....
MOUSEBENDER:
What now?
BODDINGTON:
The cat's drunk it.
MOUSEBENDER:
Has he?
BODDINGTON:
She, sir
(pause)

MOUSEBENDER:
Amstel?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Grolsch?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Caledonian?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Austrian Eggenburg?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Japanese Kirin Beer?
BODDINGTON:
No, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
You do have some beer, do you?
BODDINGTON:
Of course, sir. It's a beer shop, sir. We've got .....
MOUSEBENDER:
No, no, don't tell me. I'm keen to guess.
BODDINGTON:
Fair enough.
MOUSEBENDER:
Er, Boddingtons?
BODDINGTON:
Yes?
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah, well, I'll have some of that.
BODDINGTON:
Oh, I thought you were talking to me, sir. Mr Boddington, that's my name.
(pause)

MOUSEBENDER:
Greek Mythos?
BODDINGTON:
Ah, not as such.
MOUSEBENDER:
Er, Guiness?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Peroni Red?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Hook Norton?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
John Willie Lees?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Greenfield?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Czech Staropramen?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
Venezuelan Polar Beer?.
BODDINGTON:
Not today, sir, no.(pause)
MOUSEBENDER:
Ah, how about Stella Artois?
BODDINGTON:
Well, we don't get much call for it around here, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Not much ca- It's the single most popular beer in the world!
BODDINGTON:
Not round here, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
And what is the most popular beer round here?
BODDINGTON:
Millstone, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Is it.
BODDINGTON:
Oh yes, sir. It's staggeringly popular in this manor, squire.
MOUSEBENDER:
Is it.
BODDINGTON:
It's our number-one best seller, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
I see. Ah, Millstone, eh?
BODDINGTON:
Right, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
All right. Okay. Have you got any, he asked expecting the answer no?
BODDINGTON:
I'll have a look, sir ..... nnnnnnooooooooo.
MOUSEBENDER:
It's not much of a beer shop, is it?
BODDINGTON:
Finest in the district, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
BODDINGTON:
Well, it's so clean, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
It's certainly uncontaminated by beer.
BODDINGTON:
You haven't asked me about the Marstons, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Is it worth it?
BODDINGTON:
Could be.
MOUSEBENDER:
Have you- SHUT THAT BLOODY BOUZOUKI UP!
BODDINGTON:
(To dancers) Told you so.
MOUSEBENDER:
Have you got any Marstons?
BODDINGTON:
No.
MOUSEBENDER:
That figures. Predictable really, I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me:
BODDINGTON:
Yes, sir?
MOUSEBENDER:
Have you in fact got any beer here at all?
BODDINGTON:
Yes, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Really?
(pause)

BODDINGTON:
No. Not really, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
You haven't.
BODDINGTON:
No, sir, not a drop. I was deliberately wasting your time, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
Well, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shoot you.
BODDINGTON:
Right-O, sir.
MOUSEBENDER:
(Shoots him) What a senseless waste of human life.