Well, stone me! I've come up With a theory. Alone, by myself, Me, colour-supplement educated me, Who, like a distorted Henry's Cat, (who knows everything about nothing, And not too much about that) knows a little about Many things. I can debate All the leading topics of the day, But only with information gleaned From the front page of the Daily Mirror Or the opening bongs of News at Ten. Anyway, my theory, it goes like this: There are two types of people in this world, Firsty, there's your A-type, and they are like Bill Kerr, Sid James or Hattie Jacques. Every week, they are always the same, Never able to break out of their Defining characteristics, will always be Lazy and Australian Crooked and devious Or just female and fat. These people always play The same version of themselves And are not able, or permitted, To change. Then, there's your B-type, Exemplified by Kenneth Williams or, In the later TV series, Hugh Lloyd: They are new people every week, Changing identity as the plot dictates, Always different, new, free From the shackles of determinism, But yet, somehow, Also always the same - Same comic voice and general syle, 'Stop messing about!' he might say, As registrar, mechanic, Or when accidentally on the Outside of an aeroplane. On the whole, I'd rather be Bill Kerr, Because he called Hancock 'Tub', And slept till three in the afternoon, Refusing to change his watch From Australian to British time.