"One-Eighty over One-Twenty"
Chris Connor and Phil O'Donnell assert the moral right to be identified as
authors of this work for the purposes of copyright law. In accordance with
the Theatres Act, a copy of this script is held at the British
Library.
Room Set
Enter: Phil stage left
Prop notes: Remote control on table, folder and mug for Phil.
Phil is in a dressing gown and carrying some tea. He is also carrying a work
folder. It is early morning and Phil is tired. He sits down in one of the
chairs and arranges his stuff.
Enter: Chris stage right
Chris is wearing the long black coat. He has just come in.
Phil
You stayed the night, then.
Chris
(beat)
Not quite.
Phil
You stayed up `til six talking?
Chris
No. All of a sudden, God knows why, this enormous argument sprang out of
nowhere.
Phil
I hate it when that happens.
Chris
I'm trying to calm it all down. And Lisa's just standing there shouting at me
"Stop being so fucking reasonable, say something so I can get angry at you."
Phil
What did you say?
Chris
I said she was milky.
Phil
What's bad about that?
Chris
(sits down, weary) Milky means … well, milky's a way of describing
someone in a relationship. You know there's the baseball diamond system
(makes baseball diamond with fingers) for describing how physical you've
managed to get. Like up-to-bat means there's some chemistry, and first-base
means some kissing and second-base means here-up and so on around. Right? Well,
milky's a way of describing what it's like to actually be in a relationship.
Going out with a milky person means it's good for you, healthy, nutritious, but
it's bland, the kind of thing your mum encourages you to have and it sends you
to sleep early. That's milky.
(beat)
What are you doing up this early?
Phil
(indicates file) Got another Open University Maths module.
(picks up remote control on table, points it at audience -
immediate blackout)
Chris and Phil exit. While exiting, Chris moves a stool forward to the front
of the stage. They remove coat and dressing gown respectively. Beneath they are
already wearing the stuff for the Open University Maths Sketch, thanks to
forward planning.
During Blackout - Recorded Voice Over
Now on BBC2, Open University Mathematics Module 5: Introductory Fractions with
Dr.F.Beard and Dr.L.Shirt from Sussex University Department of Pure and Applied
Mathematics.
Lights up on front.
Prop note: The Pants Shop Sign, comedy beard #1
Enter Chris from stage-left with the sign, which he sets up on the
stool.
Enter Phil from stage-right, wearing comedy beard #1.
Phil
Is this a pants shop?
Chris
In the set that is shops, we are the subset pants, yes sir, with a probability
of one.
Phil
I'd like three pants please.
Chris
You mean one and a half pairs of pants.
Phil
Right, I'd like a pants and a half please.
Chris
But that's only three quarters of a pair of pants. That's of no use to
anyone.
Phil
I'll have double that then.
Chris
So that's one and a half pairs of pants, is it?
Phil
Yes.
Chris
I'm sorry, sir, but we only sell integer multiples of pairs of pants. (they
do the `integer multiples' gesture which cuts to the very bone of contemporary
comedy)
Phil
But, as you can see, I've got an above average number of legs.
Chris
That's true. Indeed, anyone with two legs has an above average number of legs.
Although it may be true that most people have two legs…
Phil
(opens sign - "Most people have two legs") Most people have two legs.
Chris
… a small number of people have only one leg. No-one has three legs. That
would be weird.
Phil
(opens sign again - "Having three legs is weird") Having three legs is
weird.
(beat)
Note that we have neglected Siamese twins in this analysis.
Chris
So where did the customer go wrong? Think about it
for a moment...
(unnecessarily long pause)
... that's right!
Phil
I should have ordered three pairs of pants. As we can see here.
Chris
(Spins sign over to display monstrous equation)
Note that in this analysis, we have neglected quantum effects. And boxer
shorts.
Phil
And that's all we've got time for this week.
Chris
Thank you.
Blackout, exeunt, Chris taking sign off and Phil putting the stool
back.
Quick burst of music, probably, while we remove the Pants Shop shirts.
Chris and Phil into room set, sit down.
Lights up on room set.
Props note: Chris needs a Stanley knife to give to Phil, comedy newspaper
offstage for Chris to bring in,
Phil
Did you pick all the stuff up when you came in?
Chris
Hang on. (goes and fetches comedy news matter and a teddy bear)
Right, well, there's your news.
Phil
Give me the news! Give me the news!
(Chris gives Phil the news, Phil unfolds enormous newspaper and gets stuck
in it, implausibly.)
Chris! Pass me the news knife.
(Chris does so. Phil knifes his way out of the news. Mess of newspaper lies
at Phil's feet.)
Chris
Must we go through this every morning?
(beat- examines mail)
Well, we've got an Innovations catalogue…
Phil
Again.
Chris
… lots of letters from the bank, some nice black ones, some threatening
red ones, a large misshapen brown envelope of no discernible origin….
Phil and Chris
(beat)
(surprise, bounce) Oh, good.
Chris
… and a parcel from your grandmother, probably. Judging from the crabby,
mal-
coordinated
yet strangely traditional hand-writing. And, looks like my teddy's come home.
Great. So what does that bring our total of Innovations catalogues to?
Phil
(no hesitation) Fifty-seven. What's at the forefront of innovation this
(whatever day it is), then?
Chris
(picks up Innovations, leafs through) Ooh. This looks nice. There's a
special device for storing coat-hangers in a wardrobe. It's called TurboRail.
Phil
Does it use infra-red technology.
Chris
No, cleverer than that. It's got infra-red laser technology. And it improves
blood circulation using magnets.
Phil
How much does it cost?
Chris
Err… [[sterling]]159.99. Plus VAT, and postage and packaging, and
delivery within six weeks. Great. (closes catalogue) What's in the news?
(reaches for news)
Phil
No! (Defends news with knife) Get back, all of you! It's my news! Mine!
Mine! Mine! Mine, I say! (wafts knife at Chris)
Chris
Phil! Easy, Phil! (retreats behind table, turns table on side, makes
megaphone out of Innovations catalogue) Put the knife down, Phil. Slowly.
Stay calm. It's okay. Everything's going to be fine. It's okay to cry if you
want to.
Phil
No! No! No! I must be first to read the news! (Phil puts the knife down,
starts to cower back with the news, monomaniacally)
Chris
I don't want to take all the news. Only a little bit. Any news. I'll even have
the Internet supplement.
Phil
(bleats pitifully) Nooo! Nooo! It's my news. Nice news. Don't worry,
news, I'll protect you.
Chris
Phil! I'm coming in. (Chris stands up and moves in very slowly) Hand
over the news, Phil. You're backed into a corner. There's no escape. Don't hurt
the news!
(Phil whimpers - holds up one page)
What's that?
Phil
It's the obscure sports section.
Chris
Oh, alright then. (they go and sit down as if nothing happened)
Oooh! There's a Gary Kasparov - Nigel Short rematch.
Blackout. Phil and Chris move the table and the stools forward. Backstage
"crew" - meaning Alexis probably - to grab the newspaper.
Chris and Phil sit on the stools behind the table, with microphones
(?).
Incidental Music/Voice Over
And now on Channel 4, coverage of the long-awaited Kasparov / Short
rematch.
Lights up on forestage.
Chris (Patrick)
So, Roy. Here we are again, at the fifth game in the series. All drawn so far,
no clear victor at any stage.
Phil (Roy)
Yes Patrick. However, we have seen strategic manipulation performed by the
finest minds at the highest level. And surely, today, Short will be looking to
push forward as he has the attacking pieces, in fact Kasparov will be
particularly vulnerable …
Chris (Patrick)
(interrupting) If I could just interrupt you there, Roy, we can see
Kasparov and Short entering the playing area, which today is the Dog and Fist
Pub in the centre of Brixton.
Phil (Roy)
Yes, and as I was saying, today Short will be playing with the Guinness,
whereas Kasparov is at an immediate disadvantage having had to buy a half of
shandy and a lager tops in a straight glass as stipulated by the international
regulations. This, of course, leaves him immediately open to Short's favourite
gambit of calling his opponent a shirt-lifter.
Chris (Patrick)
And we've all see how devastating that can be - I'm sure you remember the
immediate and bloody aftermath of his pairing last month against Bobby
Fischer.
Phil (Roy)
True, Patrick. But we must remember that Kasparov is rated higher in open pub
competition than any previous man in history. I feel sure he will have analysed
Short's gambit and have a counter-attack ready. I fear we may be in for another
draw.
(beat)
So, Kasparov to open. Patrick, what do you think he'll do?
Chris (Patrick)
It's a tough one, isn't it, Roy? Kasparov will doubtless go up to Short to
close for the opening. But then, he could either spill his pint, or he could
look at his bird.
Phil (Roy)
So that's the choice. Spill his pint, or look at his bird. Patrick and I have,
as usual, bet lunch on the opening. So there we are. Is it pint …
Chris (Patrick)
… or bird. Pint …
Phil (Roy)
… or bird.
Chris (Patrick)
Whatever he does, it's going to have to be good if he wants to avoid being
called a chutney-ferret. So here we are. Waiting for the opening.
(beat)
Still waiting.
(beat)
And the barman's certainly taking his time waiting for Short's Guinness to
settle.
(beat)
Oh yes! And I think Kasparov's approaching Short now. And …
Phil (Roy)
Oh my word!
Chris (Patrick)
… he's spilt his bird's pint.
Phil (Roy)
(very fast) Well, Patrick, an opening almost unknown in modern
competition, in fact the last time it was used was in Bent Larson versus Gary
Karpov, but that was before the modern introduction of family fun pubs. The
analysis itself is very unclear. While Grandmasters are broadly in agreement
that spilling the opponent's bird's pint is less aggressive than spilling the
opponent's pint over the bird, opinion is very much split over whether spilling
the opponent's bird's pint is more aggressive than merely spilling the
opponent's pint.
Chris (Patrick)
What Kasparov has achieved here is nothing less than a direct challenge to
Short's machismo. Short will now be obligated to defend the bird, thus putting
him in an inferior position and in all practical terms, unable to call Kasparov
a cak-pipe cosmonaut.
Phil (Roy)
So, Short's thinking time, as marked by the Benson and Hedges clock on the
wall, now ticking away. And we'll be sure to bring you further updates on this
exciting twist as they unravel.
Blackout. Phil and Chris move stools (ho! ho!) and tables back to room set.
During blackout, we hear …
Voice Over (Chris)
Beneath the rolling tundra of Siberia lies a forgotten Soviet missile base - a
relic of the cold war. The designers knew that a power cut would indicate that
nuclear war had begun and that the missiles should be automatically launched.
The human missile controllers were removed from the silos. The collapse of the
Soviet Union meant no maintenance was ever performed, and so the power cables
to the base fractured in the cold over a decade ago. The electronic relays to
the missile ignition circuits closed in relentless sequence - except one. The
final electrical connection was blocked by a single pair of pants inadvertently
lost down a venting grill by the last silo controller. The thickness of this
pair of pants a mile beneath the wastelands of Eastern Russia is all that
stands between us and nuclear winter. These are the pants of Armageddon.
Room Set. Chris and Phil are in bizarre positions. The lights come up.
Phil is still engrossed in the news. Chris is looking at the bank
letters.
Chris
(leafing through) Bank letter for me, and me, and me, me, me, me, me.
Phil! There's one for you here.
Phil
(engrossed) Muh.
Chris
Do you want me to open it for you?
Phil
mmmmm-urrr- yes.
Chris
(opens letter) And… (throws it at Phil) it's open.
Phil
(Phil takes letter up behind newspaper) Wow! Hey, Chris! There's a whole
secret magical kingdom in here, filled with talking lions and ten-foot brass
lobsters and eternal happiness!
Chris
Really?
Phil
No. Just more loyalty points.
Chris
What, you got more loyalty points?
Phil
Yeah, billions of them now. Probably even enough to buy a can of beans.
Chris
(disappointed) Oh…
Blackout, follow-spot on Chris, track Chris to forestage.
Chris
(somewhat forlorn) I don't get loyalty points anymore. Largely due to an
absence of loyalty. I remember one bank I used to be particularly fiscal with;
I won't name names obviously, that would be unfair. And everything was going
wonderfully, I'd be sent monthly statements, and in return, we'd conduct
frequent, furtive transactions whenever we could. Via a hole in the wall. I
don't think I'd ever been happier. But then, as so often happens, after a
couple of years the rot started to set in. I needed to get my credit line
extended, so I went to see a bank who could really dominate the economy. After
that it got worse - in the end I was seeing two different banks on a regular
basis, and there were a couple of building societies I was pretty close to.
Nothing permanent, just passing interest. I was pretty much depositing
anywhere.
(beat)
It didn't last. It wasn't long before my first bank found out. It was my own
fault, really. I'd left another bank's prospectus in my share portfolio. As you
can imagine, there was hell to pay. Stupidly, I got angry and said that I
wanted to have an open banking relationship - that I wanted to be able to see
other financial institutions, maybe even in other currencies - and that I
didn't like the way assumptions had been made about my financial affairs.
(beat)
After that it was over. I realised my mistake afterwards, once my indignant
pride had lapsed into cold regret. Last thing I heard, my ex-bank had entered
into a merger with another American bank, and were sharing premises in San
Francisco. Simple as that, gone. All I have to remember it by is the 5000 air
miles to Jakarta I was given on that special day I first opened the account. I
did try to patch it all up, said it would be different this time. But my
ex-bank had had enough - all investors are bastards.
Follow-spot tracks Chris back to room set, room set lights go up.
(shrugs to Phil) 5000 air miles to Jakarta, wherever that is.
Phil
(unsympathetic) Mmm. (still reading news) Apparently scientists
have discovered a new element which only exists in underwater monkeys.
Chris
Any useful news?
Phil
(still reading - shrugs) Some terrorist activity in Indonesia.
Chris
(mild irritation) Phil, are you going to sit there on your arse ad
infinitum?
Phil
(still not really listening) Yes, that is my scheme.
Chris
You need some exercise. You know your heart is probably the size of a pea by
now. It's not like you ever use it for anything. Your most strenuous activity
is making tea. Come on, we're going to go and do some aerobics.
Phil
Bollocks we are.
Chris
It'll be good for you. Lisa told me it lowers blood pressure and reduces
stress.
Phil
This being the same Lisa you had enormous argument with. Great.
Chris
(collects can of beans tied to string from somewhere) So, you're not
coming then.
Phil
No.
Chris
Okay…. (sets out bean trap - can of beans on stage, walks of stage with
string)
When offstage, Chris starts to get changed. One of backstage "posse" -
probably Alexis again - holds string.
Chris (offstage)
Oh Phil!
Backstage bean-wrangler starts pulling on string so that beans move in the
manner in which one would entice a cat.
Phil
(shouts) Beans.
Beans pulled very quickly offstage, Phil follows. Blackout. Phil gets
changed. Very quickly.
Voice Over (MTV German Voice)
Schliesse Deutsch. Alle neu RaveClassiken den Nineties en
CompaktDischken.
RaveClassiken!
Den Prodigy und all schnell HouseHits der Eberneezer Goode von Shamen und die
maximum sounde vas Frankie Goes To Hollywood.
RaveClassiken! En drei CompaktDischken.
RaveClassiken! All the best dance hits! On pan pipes!
Music starts - dance version of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" (on Now 30) -
quiet enough that we can talk over it.
Lights up on forestage.
Phil and Chris enter and stand stage left.
Chris
(shaking head) Can't believe you fell for that beans thing again.
Phil
Chris, you have no soul. Don't kick a man when he's down.
(beat)
What's going on? Why's everyone lying on the floor?
Chris
Oh, that's the yoga class. That's what they do. They try to relax and get in
touch with their karmic selves. By channelling their chi energy from the points
in their body where it's stagnated, they can remove the debilitating tedium of
modern existence. They achieve a state of internal focus by increased awareness
of the earth that supports them - they're not wearing any shoes, see - so
that's why they're lying down.
Phil
Looks like they're playing dead lions.
Chris
To start with, they'll only kneel. Occasionally they do stretches. There's also
self-care massage you can do. Apparently if you gently squeeze your testicles
50 times, it gives you an increased sense of well-being.
Phil
And achy bollocks.
Chris
No, look, they're about to do a stretch. There we go. That's far enough…
(beat)
… God, that looks painful …
(beat)
… no, stop, no further …
Chris and Phil
(beat)
(wince, probably hold bollocks) Jesus!
Music fades out.
Chris and Phil move to centre stage.
Chris does some warming exercises. Phil doesn't.
Chris
Ready? It's simple. See that bloke there - he's the instructor. Just follow
whatever he does.
Music - "Axel F" (also on Now 30) starts. It's aerobics dance cheese. Chris
starts to move to it, doing simple moves. Phil follows in a half-arsed
fashion.
Chris
And here we go!
Chris suddenly starts busting a whole load of aerobics moves. Phil gives up
about two seconds later, and removes cigarettes from back pocket. He proceeds
to light up.
Chris
(far too loud) Can you feel the burn?
Phil
(exhales big cloud of smoke - doesn't vomit or anything - mellowly) Oh
yes…
Chris turns to look at Phil, lights blackout. Music off.
Chris goes and gets into black coat. Lights back up on forestage. Phil still
with cigarette.
Chris
Oi!
Phil
Hmm?
Chris
Oi, mate! Over here.
(Phil comes over)
Do you want some speed?
Phil
No.
Chris
Do you want some Charlie?
Phil
No.
Chris
How about some horse?
Phil
No.
Chris
Do you want some shit? It's good shit. Or there's bad shit. That's quite good
shit too. But it's not as good shit as the bad shit. The good shit's a madman.
It's more expensive, but you'll know the money was well spent on shit well
shat.
Phil
Okay, gimme some shit.
Chris
Do you like Countdown?
Phil
Yeah.
Chris
Do you want a big one and five small ones? What about numbers? Two from the
top, four from the bottom? Do you want a humorous limerick, an amusing anagram
of your name and a tedious quotation? How about some puns and uninspired
banter?
Phil
You got any.. conundrums?
Chris
No, mate. I don't sell that kind of filth.
Blackout.
Voice Over (Announcer)
Don't forget, this Sunday is the Saffron Walden Community Drug Awareness Fete.
Events include hashish cake making, a traditional display of Oliver Cromwell's
cocaine snuffboxes and the famous stick-the-needle-in-the-smack-addict for kids
and pensioners. A prize for anyone who can find a working vein. And remember
kids, arteries don't count, and nor do the small capillaries in the eyeball or
in the penis. Anyway, it's all for charity and it's perfectly okay because the
ancient Greeks used to do it too.
Lights up on forestage. Chris sitting on stool wearing toga/beard combo.
Phil enters from stage left, wearing a beard/toga combo.
Phil (Plato)
Ah, Socrates.
Chris (Socrates)
Ah, Plato, my student.
Phil (Plato)
Tell me Socrates: if, of course, the poet never concealed his own personality
his poetic narrative would be wholly devoid of representation, don't you
think?
Chris (Socrates)
Indeed.
Phil (Plato)
But, if our rulers and their auxiliaries are each to be worthy of their name,
the auxiliaries must be willing to obey orders and the rulers to issue them,
either in direct obedience to the laws or to their spirit when we have left
them in discretion.
Chris (Socrates)
A reasonable supposition.
Phil (Plato)
So then, does oligarchy not change into democracy in the following way; as a
result of lack of restraint in pursuit of its objective, the principal classes
may seek to obviate the underlying paradigm from which they are derived?
Chris (Socrates)
(brief pondering) No! (In the manner of hearing that someone has just
suggested that BA from the A-team was gay) meeeee-uuhhhh (chin
stroking) Spasmo!
Phil (Plato)
Ah! Go fuck yourself!
Chris (Socrates)
Wanker! (gesture appropriately)
Blackout. Chris and Phil move through to room set, discard beards and
togas.
Chris and Phil sit down.
Lights up in room set.
Phil
Right, I'm going to make some more tea. (doesn't go)
Chris
Okay, I'll just rifle through all your personal belongings. What about this
thing from your granny?
Phil
Give. Give. Give it to me. Now. Now. Here. (grabs teddy bear) I'll kill
you. And your parents. And their friends.
Chris
Easy, Phil. Easy.
Phil
And then I'll do the bear. With my fists. Handy with my fists, me. (Holds
bear outstretched on hand, threatening with fist)
Chris
No, Phil. Not the bear. Don't hurt the bear. I'm sure we can resolve the
situation. Just stay calm.
(beat)
Will you exchange the hostages?
Phil
What are your terms?
Chris
Listen up, O'Donnell, I'm the one calling the shots. The ball's in my court. So
if you fumble it, you're going down, nonce.
Phil
Okay. Don't try any moves, though.
(Chris weighs up the parcel in relation to the bear, Indiana Jones-style. He
adds letters to the parcel to get the weight equal. Then he switches the bear
with the parcel. Phil grabs it and they sit down again.)
Chris
So, what is it?
Phil
(opens parcel) It's a Home Management Book.
Chris
What's it say?
Phil
(flips through) Err.. right. Ooh! You know that tortoise you bought last
week? Right. Listen to this: What to look for in a healthy tortoise.
1. A crack free shell.
2. Limbs free from sores.
3. Bright, clean eyes, mouth free from fungus.
4. Should hold its limbs stiff when gently shaken.
But above all, 5. A tortoise of proportionate weight to its size.
In short Chris, a tortoise that is not hollow.
Chris
I thought it just needed to grow into it. It's eating all the lettuce leaves
I've been hand feeding it.
Phil
I think you'll find the shell's full of decaying lettuce. What you technically
own now, is a tortoise-shaped compost heap. Anyway, you're better off this way.
Tortoises don't do anything from October to March so half the time there's no
difference. And tortoises live on a knife-edge. Figuratively. Their main
activity is dying. Too cold - die. Too warm - die. Wrong lettuce - die. Too
much lettuce - die. Accidentally roll over - wiggle slowly, then die. By buying
your tortoise pre-deaded you've actually saved a lot of heart-break and
effort.
Chris
(ponder) So you're sure it's dead, then? (Phil nods wisely)
(Emotionally drawing on all limited reserves of acting ability) Why
Phil? Why? Why must there be crimes and death and war? Why did Tobs the
Tortoise have to die like some kind of receptacle?
Phil
I don't know Chris. But you mustn't lose heart. Like Tobs.
(beat)
Sorry. I'll go bury him.
Chris
Okay.
Phil exits. Follow spot on Chris. All other lights off. Track Chris to
forestage. Phil is putting on some kind of sheepskin WW1 flight jacket and
moustache #1.
Chris
(normal now) I named the tortoise Tobs after my great-grandfather. He
was in the Royal Flying Corps. He flew 43 missions over the Somme, and received
two medals for bravery in the face of the enemy. I have a letter he wrote to my
granddad.
Phil enters, tracking spot pans over to Phil who looks like a WW1 fighter
ace.
While the spot is on Phil, Chris moves the table and stools into position
for the next piece on the forestage. Perhaps with some help from the backstage
"hombres" - meaning Miss A Meech again.
Phil (Captain Tobs Connor)
Dear Reggie,
I was flying a mission yesterday over the Somme, with Bertie Binglethwaite -
you know Bertie don't you, jolly good chap - when 500 enemy planes fly right
out of the sun at us. Old Bertie caught a nasty one in the head, blew it right
off in fact, but the old trooper carried on fighting. I took out most of them
because Bertie couldn't see without his head. Anyway, I only had 400 rounds in
my Sopwith Camel that morning, not expecting such a scrap on a Sunday so the
last hundred or so I had to destroy using my bare hands - not bad from you're
old dad at 15000 feet and 100 mph eh?
Anyway, regards to mum, I'll be back when the war's over.
Love Tobs.
Follow-spot pans back to Chris, standing. Phil sits down at stool, behind
"desk".
Chris
Of course, that was all very well eighty years ago. But what is it like
entering armed service now?
Lights up on forestage, follow-spot off.
Phil (Commander Partial-Bastard)
Ah, Connor, come in and sit down.
(Chris walks over, sits and attempts to shake hands which Phil does not
reciprocate)
Ah, not quite yet, Mr. Connor.
(beat)
(They sit in uncomfortable silence - Phil "weighs Chris up".)
So, Mr. Connor, before we begin in earnest, there are a number of questions I
must ask you. In which I take no pleasure. You understand. As a potential
signatory to the Official Secrets Act. That's all. That's why I ask. Glad
that's cleared up.
(beat)
So Mr. Connor, have you ever had, or would you consider having, an experience
of a homosexual nature. And I must advise you, that the only acceptable answer
is "No." And, should you feel the regrettable need to elaborate, the only
acceptable answer is "No, sir."
Chris
(long beat)
(They stare at each other) No… sir.
Phil (Commander Partial-Bastard)
Good. Hmm. Hmm. Now, I'm afraid your answer lacked a certain conviction. So,
and I want you to understand that I don't relish this at all, I'll have to ask
you a follow-up question. Mr. Connor, if it came to your attention, by whatever
means, that your best friend was, shall we say, playing for the other team,
what course of action would you take? And if I may be of assistance, the only
correct answer is "I'd kill him, sir, it'd be a kindness."
(Chris makes uncertain hesitancy noises.)
Hmm. Yes. And I'm afraid we'll have to conclude the interview at that
juncture.
(Phil stands up, so does Chris, Phil offers to shake hands, they
shake.)
Yes. As I suspected.
(Phil waves Chris out. As Chris is leaving…)
And, if you could leave by the back door.
Blackout.
Recorded Voice Over Segment (The
Plato/Jimbo one)
(sing to the theme tune of Jimbo and the Jet Set, a cappella)
Plato….. Plato ….. (however many sodding times it is)
Chief: Ah! Plato! An important diplomat has arrived from Cairo and this
giant panda needs shipping to Singapore Zoo. Whatever shall we do?
Plato: Don't worry, chief, I'm on it. I've already determined the
fundamental basis from which a meritocracy may be derived.
Chief: Oh shut up, Plato. I'll get Socrates the 747 to do it. He's got 4
engines.
(sing) Pla-to! Pla-to! Pla-to!
End of Segment
Lights back up in room set. Phil is sitting down, doing nothing much as
usual. Chris is black clothes for the Inquisitor scene which follows
shortly…
Chris
Okay, Need to do some shopping. Is there anything you need?
Phil
(deadpan) Biscuits.
Chris
We're pretty much out of everything edible. What else?
Phil
I don't care. Just remember the biscuits.
Chris
(sigh) The usual?
Phil
Oh yes. (Chris exits). Watch out for the crimes and war and
death.
Blackout. Follow-spot on centre of forestage.
Chris stands in spot as Boris the Inquisitor with microphone.
Chris (Boris the Inquisitor)
Hello. And welcome to Annual General Meeting of Union of Professional
Inquisitors.
As you know, are union has unfavourable press in media this last year. Some
have even called us torturers. Also our holidays and maternity leave benefits
have been cut.
I think I am not an evil man. If I had one rouble for every person who's died
on my inquisition table, I'd only have 47 roubles. And that's almost nothing at
all.
There is not the same craft in the trade these days, no pride in workmanship. I
remember when we all knew how to break a man just by sleep deprivation and
dripping water on his head. Now these young people think they can call
themselves professional inquisitors just because they know which end of
cattle-prod the electricity comes out of. Most of the could not even tell arse
from an elbow. And that's quite important when using cattle-prod.
I am sure we all remember good old days when we said we were protecting
Motherland from the Imperialist west. Those days are gone. Now the only career
openings are with fundamentalist governments and the hours are bad. We suffer
mental stress and repetitive strain injury. I am not talking about the mental
stress of nightmares and screams in your head in middle of night - that is
normal. I am talking about the stress when you have not fed your Siamese cat
since breakfast and you must rub pepper in eyes of twelve more heretics before
you go home. My cat is called Svetlana - she is lovely.
So welcome again to Annual General Meeting. Chat with your fellow inquisitors
and, as I say to all my suspects, it's good to talk.
Dasvidanya.
Chris exits. Blackout. Lights back up on room set. Phil still sitting. (fat
bastard)
Chris re-enters with biscuits.
Chris
Got your biscuits.
Phil
Give me the biscuits. Biscuits-biscuits-biscuits. Now! Now! Must have
biscuits.
Chris
(throws biscuits at Phil's face/shoulder-really) Enough! You're all
fucked up in the head, Phil. This desire for material items of no net worth,
this total lack of activity, this shameless failure of self-discipline - it all
hints at something missing in your mind. And I bet it's some kind of repressed
childhood memory, because that's what it usually is. And we're going to get
some professional help. And we're going to get it sorted. Right?
(beat)
Otherwise, I'll cure your madness the way it says in your granny's book - by
flaying the skin off your back with a fiery brand. Are we agreed?
Phil
(subdued) Yes.
Follow-spot on Phil, yeah, all of him, man. From face to feet. The whole
arse.
Chris on microphone, offstage.
Chris (offstage)
Listen to Phil.
(beat)
No, listen to him.
(beat)
You can't hear him, but he's talking to you. What's he saying?
(beat)
Look at his body. Look at it. Look at it really hard. He's communicating with
body language. What does it tell us?
(beat)
Look at Phil's legs. They're crossed. That's because he's nervous. That's
because you're all looking at him. Crossing his legs is a sign of defence. What
more can we deduce from Mr. O'Donnell's demeanour?
(beat)
Look at his face. See how the hand covers the mouth. That means he's obscuring
his face. That's psychological. That means he's lying. And he's trying to hide
his deceit behind his hand. Ineffective, isn't it? See what body language can
reveal.
(beat)
Look at Phil's liver. You can't see it, but it's smiling at you. That's because
it's happy. It's filtering dopamine and seratonin from the blood stream.
They're hormones. As we speak, Phil is having a very pleasant fantasy. Can you
tell? No. It's only happening inside his head. As usual. And now his liver's
sad again. Carol Vordermann doesn't love him after all.
(beat)
Look at Phil's bloodstream. Look at it closely. Can you see those
corkscrew-shaped microbes. That's syphilis. One of Phil's sexual encounters at
the age of 17 left him with more than a pleasant memory. Silly Philip. The
pimple and copper coloured rash have both come and gone. In four years he'll
suffer tertiary syphilis and go all funny. Antibiotics would save him. If only
he knew.
(beat)
Look at the inside of Phil's mind. No. Look closer. No. Look deeper than that.
That's Phil's soul. Doesn't it look brown? That's because it's tarnished with
sin. Look at the edges. See! Bits are flaking off. That's because his soul has
been gnawed by his internal demons. Those bits won't go to heaven. They'll
flutter slowly down to the bowels of hell and into the welcoming arms of
Beelzebub.
(beat)
Oh dear.
Blackout.
Some nice peaceful floaty music like Enya.
Chris with beard #2 sitting on a stool. Phil on Chaise Longue for therapy.
All on forestage. Lights up on forestage.
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
Now, Phil, I want you to imagine you're in a long corridor with many
glass doors. And all the doors have numbers on them. And those numbers are your
ages. Look just near you. See the door that says 21 on it? In that room are
many filing cabinets and they contain everything you saw or thought or did when
you were 21. Can you see the door?
Phil
mmm yes.
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
Now we're going to walk down the corridor, past the rooms with your ages on
them. And I want you to look through the glass and decide whether you want to
go in the room and look in the filing cabinets. Okay?
(Phil murmurs)
We're walking along the corridor, past the doors. Can you see anything
interesting?
(Phil shakes head) We're at 16, 15, 14. Anything? (Phil - no
again). And now we're back at 10, and 9, (Phil starts to whimper),
and 8 and, and 7, what's wrong?
Phil
The door's boarded up.
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
Hmm. I want you to picture a fire axe, Phil. And I want you to take the fire
axe and smash through the door. Can you do that? (Phil shakes and
strains) Have you done it?
Phil
Yes.
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
What can you see?
Phil
A ninja suit.
(beat)
A ninja suit with ropes and shurikens and daggers and swords and nunchaka.
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
(trepidation) Why is it there, Phil?
Phil
(with deadly seriousness) Because I was trained in the deadly art of the
way of the exploding ninja. I possess great skill. I can move like a shadow
through the night. I can reduce my blood pressure to 16 over 4 and stay
underwater for 6 days. I can eat broken glass with no harm. And I can dodge the
bullets of assassins by listening for the creak of their bones as they squeeze
the trigger.
(Sits up)
My name comes from the ancient Tibetan word odon-ell, meaning the darkest
nightmares of evil men. I fear no-one.
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
Yet you could remember none of this.
Phil
(gets up, walks around) Don't start. I can split your face with my left
earlobe. But in answer to your question - my memory was denied me at the age of
7 so that I might pass unnoticed in the world and become learned in the ways of
peace. That phase of my mission is complete. I am ready. (goes to
leave)
Chris (Dr. Similarity Freud)
That'll be 180 quid, please.
Phil
Oh. Do you take Switch?
Blackout. Stool back into room set, Chaise Longue off. Room set table to be
loaded with props for Knightmare/Gallery sequence. Chris and Phil to get ready
for "Slapstick Jesus" vignette, or vinaigrette depending on taste.
Voice Over
Now, more handy hints on Household Management. How to entertain guests who have
come up from the country. Guests from the country will enjoy visiting the
theatre or having a meal. They will also be enthralled by high-rise buildings,
shops and electricity. But don't overload them with too many modern concepts
like windows or hygiene. A simple light dimmer switch will keep them amused for
hours as they simulate the rise and fall of the sun with a mere twist of a
dial. However, be sure to tell them it is simply a product of modern science
and not as a result of selling their souls to a pagan demon.
Chris and Phil stand in centre of forestage. Phil is dressed as Jesus, with
a beard and a board across his back. Chris standing slightly in front of him,
to stage right. Follow-spot picks them out. Someone - let's see … Alexis?
- shouts from stage left - "Hey! Jesus!" Phil turns and knocks Chris over in
the broadest shtick you can imagine. Snap blackout. Chris goes through to room,
sits down. Phil exits and does a quick de-Jesus. Bejesus. Lights up on room
set.
Chris
Let's see. Hands: 2. Wrists:2. Arms:2. Something of a trend here. So.. spine:
(pause) 1. Damn. Thought I had something there.
Phil
(entering) Chris! Chris! I'm a ninja! Trained in the black art of
assassination!
Chris
What?
Phil
Don't you understand? Can't you see the fire of ninja magic in my eyes? I am
stealth!
Chris
No. No. You're not.
Phil
No, I am! But I was denied my memory from the age of 7 so I could become
learned in the ways of peace.
Chris
More like ring-piece.
Phil
No! It's true!
Chris
Read my lips. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring-piece.
Phil
Oh. Err. I see. I'll go and make some tea, then. And perhaps watch some
telly.
Phil exits. Chris picks up the remote-control, points it at audience,
blackout. Chris picks up knapsack, and inverts dustbin (with horns?) and puts
it over his head. Follow-spot on centre of forestage.
Phil (microphone off-stage) (As team-member)
Take three steps to the left, Kevin.
Chris (Kevin)
Okay! (Chris side-steps into the spot)
Phil (As team-member)
Can you see anything, Kevin?
Chris (Kevin)
No. Only the inside of this bucket.
Lights up on room set, follow-spot off.
Phil (As team-member)
Turn around and walk forwards until you get to a table, Kevin.
Chris (Kevin)
Okay! (Walks forward and around table, hurting himself on it in the
process.)
Phil (As team-member)
Kevin! Can you see the table?
Chris (Kevin)
(In some pain…) Yes!
Phil (As team-member)
Look downwards, Kevin. What can you see?
Chris (Kevin)
I can see a ring, a scroll and some food.
B-dump, b-dump, b-dump heartbeat noise.
Phil (As Dungeon Master)
Warning team! Your health is critical!
Phil (As team-member)
Quick Kevin! Eat the food.
Chris (Kevin)
(Trying to push bean can into his face) The bucket's in the way!
Phil (As team-member)
Hurry Kevin! Your face is dissolving!
Chris (Kevin)
I can't eat the food!
Phil (As team-member)
Kevin! Put the food in the knapsack, absorb it by osmosis, Kevin.
Chris (Kevin)
Okay!
Phil (As Dungeon Master)
Well done. Quick thinking team.
Voice of the Wall Demon (Alexis?)
Greetings traveller. Three riddles must ye answer.
Chris (Kevin)
Phil - what's going on, I'm scared!
Phil (As Dungeon Master)
This is the Wall Demon, team. You must answer its questions if you wish
to proceed.
Voice of the Wall Demon (Alexis?)
If Hercules cuts two heads off the three-headed dog guardian of the Underworld,
Cerberus, and for every one of those heads, 4 re-grow, what is the average
annual rainfall … in Swindon?
Chris (Kevin)
I don't know! Get me out of here!
Phil (As himself)
This is rubbish! What's on BBC?
Burst of static, blackout, follow-spot on centre of forestage, Chris exits,
Phil on with Gallery pictures, which he shows as appropriate.
Chris (microphone off-stage)
And now, a chance to look at some of your work. In the Gallery.
(beat)
This wonderful picture of a puffin was sent in by Celine Monster of Saffron
Walden aged nine.
Phil
I love the way Celine has used felt-tip pen in this picture.
Chris (microphone off-stage)
And this fantastic drawing of an otter was sent in by Fox Conman of East
Retford, aged 6. Fox has also added kitchen foil to great effect in this watery
scene.
Phil
But I think Fox has made great use of felt-tip pen in this picture. Just
here.
Chris (microphone off-stage)
This brilliant "representation" of a badger was sent in by Quentin Invisible of
Shellow Bowells, age 3. And a half.
Chris re-enters the room set.
Phil
Once again, felt-tip pen features quite strongly in Quentin's image.
Chris
(in darkness) Phil, this is worthless! Turn it off.
Blackout.
Voice Over
Now further handy hints for newly-wed wives. When your husband comes
home from work, listen to his problems and try to soothe him. Do not burden him
with your problems. Remember - he has had a trying day, and in comparison, all
your problems are trivial. Put some make-up on, and perhaps change into a nice
dress. Make an effort. Make sure all your household chores are finished so you
can give him the attention he deserves. Remember, he is the breadwinner.
Chris and Phil in room set, Chris on phone, lights up on room set.
Chris (into phone)
No… no… no, listen, look let's not…no….
(looks at phone, the other person has hung up) Shit! No! No! Oh, buggery
arse!
Phil
Lisa?
Chris
(hangs up) She says it's over, she hates me, and get this - she says I'm
too easy to manipulate, like trapping a monkey with a banana. Whatever that
means.
Phil
Well, it's not how you catch monkeys.
Chris
What?
Phil
I mean, I take her point, you probably are easy to manipulate - but you don't
catch monkeys like that. What you do is make a hole in a tree and put some kind
of monkey treat inside. Then the monkey reaches in (gestures) grabs the
monkey treat, and then it can't get its hand out. (gestures) And it's
trapped.
Chris
This had better not become an analogy for fisting.
Phil
(beat)
You're through, it's over. You're just good friends if it's amicable, and
you're on snide remarks in public otherwise. The absolute best you can get is
if she drops dead in a week.
Follow-spot picks out Chris, who goes to the piano, and starts laying down
some chords… it's the Ebola Virus Song. Phil wanders over in due
course.
Chris (sings - microphone on piano?)
There are times when life is tough; you might think you've had enough.
Things have gone from bad to worse, and you may not get through.
But you've got to learn to take it if you're ever going to make it
'Cos that is the sort of thing that life just loves to do ... for instance
I'm in love with a girl called Iris
She's got plenty of admirers
But she's also got the Ebola virus
Well, that's the way it goes.
Poor old Iris, she's unlucky
She coughs up blood, and it's rather yucky
When we kiss it gets quite mucky
But, that's the way it goes.
Some days you're gonna find life doesn't treat you kind
But don't you go give in, put on a grin, and you can win through.
Doctors tried to interrogate her
To find the host to try to save her
I blame sex with an alligator
Well, that's the way it goes.
You could say our romance was torrid
First of all her spleen turned solid
Her bowel dissolved and that was horrid
Well, that's the way it goes.
Well, I'd say that I'm an average man;
I'm not too hard to please.
And my darling is a lovely girl,
But even so, it's tough to know
I'm dating a disease.
I once knew a girl called Mary
She was quite extraordinary
But her leprosy was rather scary
Well, that's the way it goes.
I left her in quite a hurry
Over lunch I began to worry
I found her eyeball in my curry
Well, that's the way it goes.
Some days you're gonna find life doesn't treat you kind
But don't you go give in, put on a grin, and you can win through.
My first girlfriend was neurotic
Number 2 was quite psychotic
The third found guinea-pigs erotic
(Phil: What's wrong with that?)
Well, that's the way it -
Just got to say it -
Yes, that's the way it goes.
Chris and Phil walk out of spot, and sit down. Lights up on room set.
Chris
(picking through letters) One more letter for you. Do you want it?
Phil
(prepares to go bonkers again, then suddenly backs off) No, it's okay.
You read it.
Chris
Says you've won a crossword compiling competition. When did you do that?
Phil
Oh, it was easy - make three cryptic clues up for famous people.
Chris
What did you do?
Phil
Right, first one: "Mmm. Actor has no lungs, heart, eyes, kidneys or spleen.
(6,7)"
(beat) - (Chris shrugs)
Mmm…organ Freeman.
(beat)
Okay… second one: "Sounds like Oxford crime writer is right-handed pipe
for faeces to begin with. (5,6)"
(beat)
Colin Dexter. From Colon Dexter. I thought it was clear enough.
Last one. "Subliminal transit van invades exotic puffin, it is said. (11,7)"
Chris
(immediately) That's obvious. It's Christopher Biggins.
Phil
Correct. What did I win?
Chris
(reads) 5000 air miles…
(beat)
… to Jakarta.
Blackout.
Voice Over (with airport noises)
Your attention, please. Flight AIN-324 is boarding at gate 17. All passengers,
this is the final call for flight AIN-324 to Jakarta. All passengers for flight
AIN-324 to Jakarta, this is the final call for boarding at gate 17… for
Jakarta. Gate 17 is the place where the boarding for Jakarta is at its final
call for flight AIN-324 … to Jakarta. At gate 17. Jakarta. 17. AIN-324.
Finally. If it's Jakarta you want, it's got to be gate 17. Yes.
Phil and Chris as officers of Her Majesty's Customs and Excise.
Phil (Rasputin)
Alright, Bernard?
Chris (Bernard)
Yeah. Easy.
(beat)
Great being a Customs Officer, isn't it?
Phil (Rasputin)
Yes.
(beat)
Ooh. Here comes someone now.
Chris (Bernard)
What do you reckon? Strip search?
Phil (Rasputin)
Yeah.
Chris (Bernard)
Bags I glove monkey. (Chris puts on marigold washing up glove).
Phil (to offstage)
Sir, sir, excuse me, sir. If you could just step into that cubicle there. Yes,
that one. (Chris goes offstage) Now sir, if you could just lower your
trousers, my colleague Bernard will have a good anal rummage and hopefully
produce some amusing items.
Chris (Bernard)
(suck-plop noise in microphone off-stage)
(re-enters - No! we mean the stage, with chocolate turd replica) Found
this turd, sir.
Phil (Rasputin)
Smuggling faeces, are we sir? You are aware that this contravenes an entire
palimpsest of international laws. (nibbles stunt turd) Hmm. (passes
to Chris).
Chris (Bernard)
(nibbles) This is good shit. You're going down, nonce.
Phil (Rasputin)
Yes.
Blackout. Discard pointy hats, stunt turd.
Chris and Phil move chairs to forestage as if aircraft seats.
Sound of aircraft taking off.
Lights up on forestage. Chris is reading. Background aircraft noise.
Phil
What are you reading?
Chris
Your granny's Home Management book. It's got a section on what it calls
"travelling by modern aircraft".
Voice Over (Aircraft Captain)
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to this Air Indonesia
flight AIN-324 to the Indonesian capital of Jakarta. We're currently cruising
at an altitude of 34 thousand feet and we're just about to enter Indonesian
air-space. I'm Captain Robert Symes and your co-pilot for this flight
is…
Sound of loud gunshot.
Voice Over (Terrorist)
Attention passengers. I claim this aircraft on behalf of the People's
Democratic Liberation Army of Indonesia and our cause of democratic freedom in
Indonesia. Co-operate with us fully, and you will not be shot.
Chris
(sotto voce) Phil, quick, read this.
Phil
What, now?
Chris
Just read it!
Voice Over (Home Improvement
Voice)
In the event of your aircraft being hijacked, there are three steps you must
follow:
1. Stay calm
2. Follow the demands of your hijackers without hesitation.
3. Wait for the assistance of specially trained hijack intervention forces.
(beat)
Alternatively:
1. Infiltrate the aircraft ventilation system.
2. Make your way down to the cargo bay with ropes.
3. Use your finely honed ninja skills to immobilise the terrorist force one by
one, take control of the aircraft by means of an emergency depressurisation,
and throw the lead terrorist out of the plane to his certain death below. Then
land the aircraft safely.
(Phil snaps the book shut, picks up some rope from under the chair and pulls
a balaclava over his head)
Chris
Are you ready?
Follow-spot on Phil, no other lighting.
Phil
Oh yes. (leaps out of spot)
Blackout. Loud end of "Mission Impossible" music - just the last
bit.
Change music to "Indestructible" by Alisha's Attic.
All lights slowly up. Chris and Phil to front of stage to bow, receive
applause and generally wallow in the success of the show. Hopefully.
Exeunt omnes.
The pre-recordings in which Phil makes a complete arse of it:
The bit that's supposed to be "Greetings
Traveller!"
Handy Household Hints failure.