[Announcer: Eric Idle]
And right now, it's time for athletics, and over to Brian Goebbels in Paris.

[Brian:Terry Jones]
Hello!
Well, you join us here in Paris, just a few minutes before the start of today's big event: the final of the Mens' Being Eaten By A Crocodile event. I'm standing now by the crocodile pit where- (crunching, screams, splashing)

[French spectators]
-[?]
-Oh, merde!
(siren)

[Host:Michael Palin]
Ah. Well, I'm afraid we've lost Brian Goebbels, so while they... they're sorting it out, we have a report from Barry Loathesome in Loughborough, on the British preparations for this most important event.

[Barry:Idle & (Harold Duke:Jones)]
Here at Loughborough are five young men chosen last week to be eaten for Britain this summer.
Obviously, the most important part of the event is the opening sixty-yard sprint towards the crocs, and 22-year-old Nottingham schoolteacher Gavin Worolowe is rated by some pundits not only the fastest, but also the tastiest British morsel since Barry Gordon got a bronze at Helsinki.
In charge of the team is Sergeant Major Harold Duke.

(Now you not only gotta get into that pit first, you gotta get eaten first! When you land in front of your croc and he opens up his mouth, I wanna see you right in there! Rub your head up against his taste buds! And when those teeth bite into your flesh, use the purchase to thrust yourself down his throat!)

Duke's trained every British team since 1928, and it's his blend of gymnastic knowhow, reptilian expertise, and culinary skill that's turned many an unappetizing novice into a crocodilic banquet.
(Well, our chefs have been experimenting for many years to find a sauce most likely to tempt the crocodile. In the past we've concentrated on a fish-based velouté sauce, but this year we're reverting to a simple béarnaise.)
The British team are worried because Olympic regulations allow only the competitor's heads to be sauced.
Gavin Worolowe:
[Barry and (Gavin:Palin)]
(Yes, well, I mean -ahem- you know...
Four years ago, everyone knew the Italians were coating the insides of their legs with bolognaise. The Russians were being marinated themselves. One of the Germans, Biolek, was actually caught putting, uh, remoulade down his shorts. And the Finns were using tomato-flavoured running shoes. I think it should either be unrestricted garnishing or a simple Olympic-standard mayonnaise.)

Gavin, does it ever worry you that you're actually going to be chewed up by a bloody great crocodile?
(The only thing that worries me, Jim, is being being the first one down that gullet.)

Well, the way things are going here at Loughborough, it looks as though Britain could easily pick up a place in the first seven hundred. But nothing's predictable in this tough, harsh, highly competitive world, where today's champion is tomorrow's crocodile shit. And back to you, in the studio, Norman!