Customer: Hello, I would like to buy a fish license, please.
Shopkeeper: A what?
C: A license for my pet fish, Eric.
S: How did you know my name was Eric?
C: No no no, my fish's name is Eric, Eric the fish. He's an halibut.
S: What?
C: He is...an...halibut.
S: You've got a pet halibut?
C: Yes. I chose him out of thousands. I didn't like the others, they were
   all too flat.
S: You must be a looney.
C: I am not a looney! Why should I be attired with the epithet looney merely
   because I have a pet halibut? I've heard tell that Sir Gerald Nabardo
   has a pet prawn called Simon (you wouldn't call him a looney); furthermore,
   Dawn Pailthorpe, the lady show-jumper, had a clam, called Stafford, after
   the late Chancellor, Allan Bullock has  two pikes, both called Chris, and
   Marcel Proust had an haddock! So, if you're calling the author of 'A la
   recherche du temps perdu' a looney, I shall have to ask you to step outside!
S: Alright, alright, alright.  A license.
C: Yes.
S: For a fish.
C: Yes.
S: You are a looney.
C: Look, it's a bleeding pet, isn't it? I've got a license for me pet dog
   Eric, and I've got a license for me pet cat Eric...
S: You don't need a license for your cat.
C: I bleeding well do and I got one. He can't be called Eric without it--
S: There's no such thing as a bloody cat license.
C: Yes there is!
S: Isn't!
C: Is!
S: Isn't!
C: I bleeding got one, look! What's that then?
S: This is a dog license with the word 'dog' crossed out and 'cat' written
   in in crayon. 
C: The man didn't have the right form.
S: What man?
C: The man from the cat detector van.
S: The looney detector van, you mean.
C: Look, it's people like you what cause unrest.
S: What cat detector van?
C: The cat detector van from the Ministry of Housinge.
S: Housinge?
C: It was spelt like that on the van (I'm very observant!). I never seen so
   many bleeding aerials. The man said that their equipment could pinpoint
   a purr at four hundred yards! And Eric, being such a happy cat, was a
   piece of cake.
S: How much did you pay for this?
C: Sixty quid, and eight for the fruit-bat.
S: What fruit-bat?
C: Eric the fruit-bat.
S: Are all your pets called Eric?
C: There's nothing so odd about that: Kemal Ataturk had an entire menagerie
   called Abdul!
S: No he didn't!
C: Did!
S: Didn't!
C: Did, did, did, did, did and did!
S: Oh, all right.
C: Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a fish license?
S: I promise you that there is no such thing: you don't need one.
C: In that case, give me a bee license.
S: A license for your pet bee?
C: Yes.
S: Called Eric? Eric the Bee?
C: No.
S: No?
C: No, Eric the Half-Bee. He had an accident.
S: You're off your chump.
C: Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquiallism to
   imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or indeed to deny the
   semi-existence of my little chum Eric the Half-Bee, I shall have to ask
   you to listen to this!
   Take it away, Eric the orchestra leader!.......

   A one... two.... A one.. two.. three..four...

        [piano intro]

   Half a bee, philosophically, must, ipso facto, half not be.
   But half the bee
   has got to be,
   vis a vis
   its entity - do you see?

   But can a bee
   be said to be
   or not to be
   an entire bee
   when half the bee
   is not a bee
   due to some ancient injury?

   Singing...

   La dee dee, 1 2 3,
   Eric the half a bee.
   A B C D E F G,
   Eric the half a bee.

   Is this wretched demi-bee,
   half asleep upon my knee,
   some freak from a menagerie?
   No! It's Eric the half a bee.

   Fiddle dee dum,
   Fiddle dee dee,
   Eric the half bee.

   Ho ho ho,
   Tee hee hee,
   Eric the half a bee.

   I love this hive employee-ee-ee      [with buzzing in background]
   bisected accidentally
   one summer afternoon by me
   I love him carnally.

   He loves him carnally...             [together]
   ...semi-carnally

        [spoken]

   The end

   "Cyril Connelly?"
   No!  "Semi-carnally"
   Oh!

   Cyril Connelly                       [sung softly and slowly]
.