I believe Eskimo is an insult to the Alutes and other native tribes from further south. Eskimos are northern dwellers. I don’t suppose the Eskimos have a problem with it.
(Sketch continues from ‘Mr. Neutron is missing’. Cut to Carpenter in a log cabin trading post with trestle tables. Six Eskimos are sitting in a group at one end of the other tables. An Italian chef in a long white apron and greasy shirt, is standing over Carpenter.
Carpenter sits at one table with a huge fresh salad in front of him.)
Italian: You don’t like it?
Carpenter: No, I didn’t want to eat a salad. I wanted to find out about a man called Salad.
Italian: You’re the first person to order a salad for two years. All the Eskimos eat here is fish, fish ...
First Eskimo: (very British accent) We’re not Eskimos.
Second Eskimo: Where’s our fish. We’ve finished our fish.
Italian: What fish you want today, uh?
First Eskimo: Bream please.
Italian: Bream! Where do I get a bream this time of year? You bloody choosy Eskimo pests.
First Eskimo: We are not Eskimos!
Italian: Why don’t you like a nice plate of cannelloni?
Eskimos: Eurrrrghhh!
First Eskimo: That’s not fish.
Italian: (as he turns to go in kitchen) I’ve had my lot of the Arctic Circle. I wish I was back in Oldham ...
(Carpenter crosses to the Eskimos.)
Carpenter: (speaking slowly, and clearly as for foreigners) Do any of you Eskimos ... speak ... English?
First Eskimo: We’re not Eskimos!
Third Eskimo: I am.
Others: Sh!
Italian: (off) Haddock!
Eskimos: Where?
Carpenter: (still speaking as if to foreigners) Do any of... you ... know... a man ... caned ... Salad?
First Eskimo: What, Salad as in...
Carpenter: Lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes ... yes.
First Eskimo: Like you have on your plate?
Carpenter: Yes. That’s right.
First Eskimo: No, I’m afraid not.
Second Eskimo: Where’s our fish?
First Eskimo: What does this Teddy Salad do?
Carpenter: He’s a... er... hen-teaser.
(Quick cut to the chairman of Fiat in his office.)
Chairman: Che cosa è la stucciacatori di polli?
SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: ‘WHAT IS A HEN-TEASER?’
(Cut back to the cabin.)
First Eskimo: No, the only Teddy Salad we know is a CIA man.
Carpenter: Oh, he might know.
Eskimos: (chanting) Gunga gunga, where’s our fish?
Carpenter: Where will I find him?
Second Eskimo: Oh, he lives up at Kipper Sound.
Carpenter: Thanks a lot.
Eskimos: Fishy fishy iyoooiyooo.
First Eskimo: Are you in international spying, too?
Carpenter: No... no... I’m with the... US Ballet... force... who are you with?
First Eskimo: (leans forward confidentially) MI6. But not a word to the Eskimos.
Eskimos: Fishy fishy igooo.
(The Italian chef appears.)
Italian: Here’s your bloody fish.
First Eskimo: Thank you, Anouk.
Italian: I’m not an Eskimo!