The Money Programme sketch from Monty Python's Flying Circus       
                                                                                
(begins with pictures of money, bank vaults, gold, etc.  overwritten by THE     
 MONEY PROGRAMME)                                                               
                                                                                
Eric Idle sits at a desk between Michael Palin and John Cleese.  He begins      
quietly but becomes increasingly agitated as he speaks.                         
                                                                                
Idle: Good evening, and welcome to The Money Programme.  Tonight on The Money   
      Programme, we're going to look at money.  Lots of it.  On film, and in    
      the studio.  Some of it in nice piles, others in lovely clanky bits of    
      loose change.  Some of it neatly counted into fat little hundreds,        
      delicate fivers stuffed into bulging wallets, nice crisp clean checks,    
      pert pieces of copper coinage thrust deep into trouser pockets, romantic  
      foreign money rolling against the thigh with rough familiarity, beautiful 
      wayward curlicued banknotes, filigreed copper plating cheek by jowl with  
      tumbly ( ?  ) rubbing gently against the terse leather of beautifully     
      balanced bank books!!                                                     
                                                                                
(He looks around in surprised realization that he's panting and screaming)      
                                                                                
Idle: I'm sorry.                                                                
                                                                                
(adjusts tie, darts eyes around room)                                           
                                                                                
Idle: But I love money.                                                         
      All money.  (growing excited again)                                       
      I've always wanted money.                                                 
      To handle! To touch!                                                      
      The smell of the rain-washed florin!                                      
      The lure of the lira!                                                     
      The glitter and the glory of the guinea!   (stands up )                   
      The romance of the ruble!   (stands on chair)                             
      The feel of the franc!   (stands on desk)                                 
      The heel of the deutschmark!   (stomps foot)                              
      The cold antiseptic sting of the Swiss franc!                             
      And the sunburnt splendor of the Australian dollar! (slaps knee)          
                                                                                
(sings the rest while dancing across desk; Michael and John just look at him    
 blandly.)                                                                      
                                                                                
I've got ninety thousand pounds in my bank account.                             
I've got forty thousand French francs in my fridge.                             
I've got lots and lots of lira,                                                 
Now the deutschmark's getting dearer,                                           
And my dollar bill could buy the Brooklyn Bridge.                               
There is...                                                                     
                                                                                
(enter a chorus of 5 men in women's pilgrim costumes)                           
                                                                                
...nothing quite as wonderful as money!                                         
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash!                                    
Some people say it's folly, but I'd rather have the lolly (?),                  
With money you can make a splash!                                               
                                                                                
(chorus kneels ans sings "money, money, money" through Idle's solos )           
                                                                                
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money!                                   
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash!                                    
Everyone must hanker for the butchness of a banker (all give Italian Salute)    
It's the currency that makes the world go round!                                
                                                                                
(a harp is wheeled across the stage but not played)                             
                                                                                
You can keep your Marxist ways, for it's only just a phase...                   
Money, money, money makes the world go round!                                   
                                                                                
(play money falls from above as chorus reaches a glorious crescendo)            
                                                                                
Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money! Money!