I watched some of the opening ceremony of the Olympics the other night at a bar with a few co-workers. The sound wasn’t on, but I think I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

Except I missed this part.

The Olympics are about pride and pageantry, two things the British are very good at. That explains why the ceremony closed with a powerful fireworks display that might remind one of the Royal Air Force’s tenacity in fending off the Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain.

But the British also have a very dry sense of humor which they feel comfortable injecting into solemn occasions, which explains why Mr. Bean played a longer set than Paul McCartney.

As long as we’re embracing stereotypes, I think the world would have enjoyed taking it a step further.

Instead of having the athletes of the future light the Olympic torch, why not just go ahead and have John Cleese silly-walk the thing up there?

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Scaia, you beautiful son of a gun, wouldn’t it be funnier to have some big-hatted English policemen chase Benny Hill around the track and then have them leave, only to re-appear moments later with Benny Hill chasing the policemen, torch in hand?”

I respect your viewpoint and that would do in a pinch, but I feel like the torch lighting is more suited to John Cleese’s deadpan delivery [Note to my editor: remind me to look up whether Benny Hill is still alive before my deadline].

It was also a little strange to see James Bond and Mary Poppins featured so prominently. Gutsy move, United Kingdom, acknowledging that most of your greatest national heroes don’t actually exist in real life.

Think back to when Atlanta hosted the Summer Olympics in 1996. Now imagine instead of that iconic image of Muhammad Alilighting the torch, B.A. Baracus comes out during the Parade of Nations to discuss the degree to which he pities the other countries’ fools. That’s what London did.

The UK has set the bar pretty high. The next time the US hosts the Olympics, we’ll really have to embrace the spectacle.

I propose the Olympic torch be lit by a giant mechanical Thomas Jefferson who breathes fire from his nose while eating a car. Consider the following schematic:

I’ll be awaiting your phone call, US Olympic Committee.