#Mr Pither

[yonderghostshistories]

Mr Pither and Mr Gulliver from MPFC Support Palestine! 🇵🇸🍉

From River to the Sea, Palestine WILL BE FREE!!

[chrysochromulina]

Ant exhibition?! 🤩

What would Mr. Pither do?

[lenetaylor]

same, mr. pither

[arthur-two-sheds-jackson]

Okay, lads, ladies and luvvies of the Python fandom, here's a challenge for you!

We have here...

(top to bottom, left to right)

The Colonel

the Hungarian Tourist

Epic Beer-Spilling Guy

Mr. Badger

Man with a Stoat Through His Head

Timmy Williams

Mr. Gumby

Mr. Anchovy

Mr. Horton

Kevin Garibaldi

Anti-Commies Guy

Mrs. Pepperpot

Burma-Shouting Pepperpot

Mr. Pither

Jessica Garibaldi MP

Arthur "Nudge" Name

Brian Equator

Audrey Equator

Who are you sitting next to and why? Oh, and keep in mind that none of them is willing to change their seats, be it with each other or with you, so choose wisely!

[flyingcircusbracket]

clips and episode titles below!

Restaurant Sketch (Dirty Fork) - S1E3: How To Recognize Different Types of Trees from Quite a Long Way Away

Mr. Pither / The Cycling Tour - S3E8: The Cycling Tour (this is part one of three, go watch them all! lol)

[commonguttersnipe]

Baggy Trousers Down Python Road: Chapter 4- Sir. I'm a coward.

There was a ghost roaming the halls of MacNaughton School… according to Bert Nudge. It started at Tuesday dinner. During the sacred tradition of pushing slimy semolina around their bowls, Bert proposed that there was an evil presence amongst them. Apparently, a frail figure was gliding across the dorm room corridor, wailing like a banshee, coaxing humans into its slender arms. Other than Ronnie, no one else was convinced.

“Pull the other one Bert” Bevis stared down at his inedible dessert with disdain.

“No really! Would I lie about this?” His voice was frantic. 

“Yes.” They all said in unison. First the bloodthirsty rabbit in the gardens and now this. His initials might as well have been ‘BS’. Bert, however, was convinced there was someone, or something, out there. Done with dessert, the friends went to investigate. Earlier than the rest of their classmates, they crept on the tattered carpets with the hopes of finding a spirit. Ronnie stayed behind. He often did. 

Isaac led the group, slightly more fearless than the others. Bert clung to Louis and Louis clung to Bevis and Bevis clung to Bert. The November evening had cast its cold shadows through the windows and every sound sounded ear-splitting. That’s when they heard it.

A deep, guttural moan.

Bevis screamed first, his shriek reaching almost soprano levels, prompting the rest of the boys to follow him in a domino of yelps. 

Mr Idle was on his way back to his lodgings when three sweaty and sobbing 13-year-olds ran into him. After trying to calm them down (which had little to no effect), he asked them what had gotten them into such a flap. Bevis explained, all his words coming out in a hyperventilated mess. Mr Idle listened and tried not to laugh. The sheer commitment to the terror was impressive, but the school couldn’t be haunted. Ghosts weren’t real and he was prepared to die on that hill. Sensing that the boys were still shaken, he invited them for a cup of Hot Chocolate in the Teacher’s Lounge. Michael and Eileen were there. Eric decided that this was a them problem.

The next week, an unwell Robin Birdall was weaving through the labyrinth to the matron’s office. The strawberry blond found himself jumping at every creak and thwack of branches against the window panes. Gale had offered to go with him and he had turned down his friend’s camaraderie. Severely regretting it, he trudged forward, his little green slippers tapping on the floor. He had only the stairs and he was there. Carefully walking down, he heard the moan the Year 9s had been conspiring about. Hesitantly, he looked up. There stood a sallow figure, a billowing nightgown blowing in the draft. His moans became more like cries. Not that Robin stayed long enough to determine the noise. He sprinted down the rest of the stairs and frantically kicked the Matron’s door open. Miss Weston wasn’t particularly pleased but she slapped a paper towel on his sick head and chalked it all up to a fever.

Soon, news of this spirit had spread throughout the school. Faculty were constantly being bothered with sightings and origin stories, each explanation being met with hysteria. Mr Chapman humoured them, saying it must be a friendly spirit if it is calling for help. Mr Palin chose comfort, complimenting their overactive imagination and confidently declaring that nothing would hurt them. Mr Cleese turned it to his advantage and threatened that he and the ghost were in cahoots to stop the pupils from misbehaving in lessons. 

However, the older years were less taken with the idea of a paranormal entity in their presence. 

Marshall Pither liked ghost stories but that’s all they were to him. Stories. From several heated debates with Quince, he found out his friend felt much the same way. Agreeing with them was Paul but that boy had the same creativity as a brutalist flat. 

“I mean… Imagine if this determined the existence of the spirit realm!” Quince flicked through his comics as Marshall excitedly paced. 

“They couldn’t be real, but the fact is they might be!” Marshall’s round face turned pink as he readjusted his glasses. Quince didn't look up. Paul was asleep.

“Quince?” He playfully shoved his friend, who shoved him back in return. The taller boy didn’t respond, a bit creeped out. Marshall decided to drop it, his imagination going wild with the scientific progress that could be right under their noses. 

Elliot Ximenez took this rumour remarkably seriously. Paranoid and obsessive, this sudden supernatural frenzy confirmed his own fears. He spent his days reading into the devil’s servants and now it seemed that they roamed around his hallowed ground. 

“Satan’s serpents are here! One glides across our chambers condemning us. We need to act before our souls are left clawing in the trail of mud down to hell itself!” Elliot spat. This got no reaction. Zachery was making paper snowflakes, Samuel was reading, Jim was motorboating Aggie and Ernie was watching keenly. Turned out, his fellow seekers of light were not as concerned with the malevolent phantom running amuck. 

Tallulah Blanc, however, was. A corkboard with all the sightings and details was hung up in her dorm, with Jocasta regularly updating it. Both of them believed this to be a cruel prank, as did Jack and Tommy (though they considered themselves too busy to be bothered by it).

“Jocasta love?” Tallulah put on her dressing gown. Her roommate, also robed in her nightdress, grabbed her torch “Remember to be quiet”. 

The two ghostbusters left the safety of their room and tip-toed to the 2nd floor, anxiously awaiting to catch their ‘spirit’. An hour later, the shrill howling began. Petrified, Jocasta approached the stairs, Tallulah holding her hand. They looked up.

There it was.

They wanted to run but couldn’t. Screams wouldn’t manifest and they stood at the bottom of the stairs gawking at the mysterious white sheet.

It spoke. 

“I-I’m sorry” It… sniffed? Jocasta lowered her torch and climbed the steps. Tallulah looked at her roommate in awe with wide and wild eyes. Once the intrepid girl had reached the apparition, she was faced with a very small boy. He was sickly pale and his dirty blond hair ricocheted the light from her torch, almost appearing as a halo. His eyes were puffy and crimson from his continuous sobbing and his long nightshirt sleeves were drenched in his own tears.

“It’s just a Year 7” Jocasta called, prompting her curious friend to join her upstairs.

“So it is!” she exclaimed in her soft tone “What’s your name sweetie?”

The boy started to blubber.

“Herbert Swampcastle… and I want my papa!” He promptly flung himself at Jocasta and proceeded to sob into her chest. Holding the inconsolable child, she motioned to her taller friend to get help.

Herbert had joined a bit later than the rest of the Year 7s and was having trouble fitting in. His father had come into possession of a withering construction company and wanted him out of the way. Sensitive and empathetic, this was tearing the poor tween apart.

Unfortunately, the only teacher awake to help was Mr Cleese (who appeared very sweaty and bothered when he opened the door), who was not very understanding about the situation. Herbert was given a shot of Bovril and sent to his dorm, which was then promptly locked for the rest of the year.

The two girls then returned to their room, their two other bunkmates, Petra and Jeanie fast asleep.

“I think we did a rather splendid job, Jocasta love…” Tallulah snuggled under the covers, her eyes closing as sleep consumed her. She didn’t reply. She just watched her friend drift off, with the hope that another ghost would return to the halls. She was desperate to have her hand held again.

[endingboyhansel]

Hello again! Would you do a ranking of your top 5 favourite Monty Python sketches please?

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS AND FORGOT ABOUT IT (i have the memory of a gumby)

I’m too tired to add anything else so heres all I put:

— The entirety of the Cycling Tour episode. YOU GO MR PITHER! You deserve a cycling tour that isn’t beset by. Uh. Russia ig.

[caesarsaladinn]

Švejk reminds me of Mr. Pither from Monty Python, who makes a wrong turn on his bike tour of Cornwall and winds up in front of a Soviet firing squad but cheerfully goes along with it. "April 26. thrown into Russian cell. severely damaged my Mars bar. I perceived a line of gentleman with rifles, but I could not see a target. what a strange day I was having!"

[thehistoryone]

Playlist title: Mr Pither 😊

Eeeh thanks this was really fun <3

Sorry, I've been quite busy today with some stuff so I've only got a couple. I'll probably update this a bit later with some more songs 😃 in the meantime here we are <3

Only wanna be with you - bay city rollers

Love grows (where my rosemary goes) - Edison lighthouse

Build me up buttercup - the foundations

Tiptoe through the tulips - tiny tim

[mooncustafer]

Ao3 has four (4) fanfics for those of you who ship him with Mr. Gulliver:

I think Mr. Pither is my favourite Michael character.

[twosheds]

today was a good day for Mr Pither

[parttimesarah]

“My name is Pither, P-i-t-h-e-r, as in ‘brotherhood’ except with a ‘p-i-t’ instead of the ‘b-r-o’ and no ‘hood’.” -The Cycling Tour (S3E8)

[flyingcircusbracket]

clips and episode titles below!

The Piranha Brothers ("Dinsdale!") - S2E1: Face the Press

Mr. Pither / The Cycling Tour - S3E8: The Cycling Tour

Coal Miners of Llanddarog - S2E13: Royal Episode 13

[commonguttersnipe]

Hiya! I was wondering if you could make a Spotify playlist about Mr Pither x Mr Gulliver from the MPFC series 3 episode "The Cycling Tour" please? Thanks!!

PLAYLISTS ARE SO BACK-