LK: The program you are about to see is not only the first of a series, but the first of a series of series, which we hope will run every year for several years. Each one lasts for twelve days, the twelve days of Christmas, in fact, during which I shall be inviting famous figures both to reflect upon their lives and to choose their 12 seasonal gifts. In future years, I hope to be joined by such luminaries as president Gorbachev, mother Theresa, Lady Thatcher, Nelson Mandela, and Kenny Everett. But to begin the series, we’ve chosen someone who without question is taller than all of them, the international poultry tycoon, Sir Arthur Streeb-Greebling. Join me now as I probe him searchingly in the first edition of “A Life in Pieces”.
LK: Tonight and for the next twelve nights, I’m the guest of sir Arthur Streeb-Greebling, a man who needs no introduction from me. And so without further ado, Sir Arthur, good evening.
SA: Good evening, and … Seasons Greeblings.
LK: Streeb-Greebling, Sir Arthur, that’s a very unusual name.
SA: Yes. The Streebs originally hailed from Iceland, or Norway as it was then, in what is now modern Denmark. Streeb is, in fact, a corruption of the original Norsk name, Stroeb.
LK: Does that have any meaning in Norsk, in fact?
SA: It … means Stroeb in Norsk. It’s almost impossible to translate, really. It basically means a sort of wooden bucket with two holes in it. Underwear, really. Wooden underwear, which is, the only sensible way to deal with the cold Norse summer. You just take off your underwear, set it on fire, and huddle around it for warmth.
LK: Do you speak any Lapp yourself?
SA: I have a smattering or a smoettering, as they call it. They don’t in fact call it Lapp. They call it Loepp.
LK: Yes.
SA: But I do have a smoettering of Loepp. A few words, strueb, stroeb, loepp. I imagine if I were to find myself in fourth century Loepp, uh I could, get by, proebably.
LK: These Streebs then presumably migrated, did they …
SA: … in their long, proud underwear, yes. They migrated to Britain, which is where they first encountered the Greeblings. Now, the Greeblings were picts, and they were quite unlike the Streebs. You see, whereas the Streebs were tall, blond, willowy people, the Greeblings were short, dark, shrub like folk who worshipped the ladder.
LK: Why was that?
SA: Well, because they had never actually seen one. So they they couldn’t prove it existed and naturally, they believed in it. A question of faith, really. Various animals are sacred as well, the giraffe, for example. Legend had it that were a Pict to kill a giraffe, his family will be cursed for all eternity.
LK: How did the picts know about the giraffe?
SA: Well, they only knew the theoretical giraffe which they revered because, he didn’t need a ladder. It wasn’t actually a giraffe, of course. Cave painting show, cylindrical sausage like animal, brownish in color, with one cylindrical leg and a 200 foot long neck ending in another leg, or neck it could be. It’s not very well drawn. In fact, I think it might well be upside down, the the one I saw.
LK: I see.
SA: They called it the … two hundred foot long dog.
LK: What would that be in Norsk?
SA: Well, it wouldn’t be in Norsk. These were Greeblings, remember, not Streebs or Stroebs.
LK: Oh, yes, of course.
SA: But, if it was in Norsk, it would probably be something like, the “toe huendred foet loeng doeg”.
LK: Yes. Now, you say cave paintings?
SA: Yes. They they lived in subterranean caves, caves from which they kept up their underground resistance movement.
LK: Against the Romans?
SA: Yes.
LK: Was it effective?
SA: Oh, very effective. The Romans never got to the bottom of it. In fact, I don’t think the Romans were aware of how much resistance was going on underground since, the Greeblings never surfaced, and, the Romans went back to Rome in 401 AD none the wiser.
LK: What’s your first gift, sir Arthur?
SA: My first gift is a partridge in a pear tree.
LK: Why that?
SA: For two reasons.
LK: What’s the first reason?
SA: Would you mind if I gave my second reason first?
LK: Of course.
SA: My second reason is that I’m an enormous admirer of Marlon Brando.
LK: What’s the connection?
SA: Well, Marlon had a habit of dressing up as a partridge to avoid being bothered in restaurants. He’d go out to eat with his buddies, Walter Pigeon, Howard Hawks, Gregory Peck, the usual crowd, and, this is coming back to my first reason, in the Pear Tree.
LK: Ah, yes.
SA: Which, of course, was an exclusive restaurant in the Hollywood Hills where you could only get in if you were disguised as a bird, and you could only get out if you’d settled your bill, which was sort of an in joke in Beverly Hills in those days.
LK: Is a sense of humour important to you, Sir Arthur?
SA: Terribly important, yes. And, of course, it is the way to a woman’s heart. Soft music, a bottle of wine, candlelight then, as the meal draws to a close, slip on an albatross costume and say “oh, look, there’s my bill”. Love will blossom. Or you could point to somebody called William, I suppose. Either would work, I imagine.
LK: Sir Arthur, you have your Partridge. You have your Pear Tree.
SA: Thank you.
LK: We look forward very much to seeing you tomorrow and finding out what your second gift is.
SA: Thank you very much.
LK: Not at all.
SA (trailing off): Do you mind if I ..? (holds up cigarette)