Host: Did you write this symphony in the shed?
Host: Have you written any of your recent works in this shed of yours?
Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson: No, no, not at all. It's just an ordinary garden shed.
Host: I see, I see. And you're thinking of buying this second shed to write in!
Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson: No, no. Look. This shed business... it doesn't really matter. The sheds aren't important. A few friends call me "Two Sheds" and that's all there is to it. I wish you'd ask me about the music. Everybody talks about the sheds. They've got it out of proportion... I'm a composer. I'm going to get rid of the shed. I'm fed up with it!
Host: Then you'll be Arthur "No Sheds" Jackson, eh?
Announcer: Yes, mothers, new improved Whizzo Butter, containing 10% more less, is absolutely indistinguishable from a dead crab!
The Colonel: All through the winter of '43, we had translators working in joke-proof conditions to try and produce a German version of the joke. They worked on one word each for greater safety. One of them saw two words of the joke and spent several weeks in hospital. But apart from that, things went pretty quickly, and we soon had the joke by January in a form which our troops couldn't understand, but which the Germans could.
German Radio Voice: [English translation of the fatal joke] There were zwei peanuts walking down the strasse, und one was assaulted - peanut.
Nazi: I vont to know the joke.
Interrogated Officer: All I can give you is a name, number and a why did the chicken cross the road.