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753 lines
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753 lines
31 KiB
Plaintext
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BOTTOM
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======
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by Adrian Edmondson and Rik Mayall
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Series 2, Episode 3
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Burglary
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========
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Richie Rik Mayall
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Eddie Adrian Edmondson
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Burglars Rupert Bates
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Paul Bradley
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Tip Tipping
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Policeman Jonathan Stratt
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Scene 1. The Flat.
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------------------
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[It's late. Richie is sitting at the table reading a magazine. He hears the
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door slam downstairs, hides the magazine, and pretends to be ironing a pair
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of pants. Eddie comes in, drunk. He stumbles around, panting, and then
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leans heavily on the organ keyboard. It takes him several seconds to
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realise he is causing the noise. He leaps away and carefully brushes down
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the keys. Richie looks at him primly.]
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Richie: What time d'you call this?
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[Eddie looks on one wrist, then the other. No watch. He shrugs his
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shoulders and then remembers something important...]
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Eddie: Oh!
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[He pulls up his trouser leg, revealing his watch strapped around his
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ankle.]
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Eddie: Ah... half past one.
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Richie: Where have you been?
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Eddie: I've been to a car swapping party.
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Richie: A car swapping party.
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Eddie: Yeah, it's great. All the men stand round in a circle and throw
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their wives in the middle. Then you pick the one you want, and
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she escorts you to your car.
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Richie: Eddie, you're not married.
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Eddie: I know, that's why I came home on the bus. It's parked outside.
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Richie: Marvellous banter Eddie, I am bereft of ribs. Now perhaps we
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could dally with the truth for a while?
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Eddie: Er... oh, right, okay, erm... I was struck by lightning! Ah,
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and, er, etcetera.
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Richie: Four and a half hours ago you left to collect two fish suppers.
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I gave you one pound seventy-five in good faith. Where is my
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bit of halibut?
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Eddie: All right, here we go, right... One pound seventy-five, yeah, I
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remember that... Was that today? Well I blame the town
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planners, it's socially irresponsible to put the Lamb And Flag
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bang next door to Neptune's Pantry!
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Richie: You mean...
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Eddie: Yes! [drops his coat and hat next to the hatstand] I have
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liquidised your assets!
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Richie: Eddie, sit down.
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Eddie: I am sitting down.
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Richie: No you're not, you're squirling around the place like some sort
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of evil dervish.
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Eddie: Do you want a fight or what?
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[He takes a swing at Richie, misses completely, and falls head-first onto
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the sofa, jamming his head down the back.]
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Eddie: [muffled] Hey, whoa, nice bit of interior design!... Hey, oh!
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[pulls himself out] I've just found a quid. Ha, I'm off out.
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Tell the wife I'll be home around eight.
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Richie: Whose wife?
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Eddie: Anybody's, I don't know where I'm going yet. Ta-ra!
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[Eddie leaves, closing the door behind him. Richie sighs. Eddie comes in
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through the other door, looking puzzled.]
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Eddie: All right, I give in. Where's the front door gone?
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Richie: Eddie, how did you get this drunk on one pound seventy-five?
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Eddie: [conspiratorially] There's a sale on at the chemists.
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[Richie gets a full blast of Eddie's breath and splutters.]
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Richie: What do you mean?
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Eddie: Old Spice, 25p a bottle!
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[Richie sighs. Eddie winds up another punch, misses Richie again and
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crashes to the floor.]
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Eddie: Where'd the floor go?
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Richie: Oh lordy lordy, every single night. Hah. Oh well. I shouldn't
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complain really, he's only ever been drunk once. Trouble is
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it's lasted seventeen years so far.
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[Eddie has found the cupboard under the kitchen sink.]
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Eddie: Haaah... welcome to Eddie's bar! There you are, my little
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beauty!
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[He takes out a bottle of bleach, swigs it, and tosses the empty bottle
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over his shoulder.]
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Eddie: Dah-haah! Hoh! That's better. [gestures as if calling a taxi]
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Taxi! The Copacobana!
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[Eddie slowly topples over and falls unconscious on the floor.]
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Richie: No, n-n-not the bleach! Eddie! Eddie? [slaps his cheeks]
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Eddie! Right.
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[Richie grabs the iron, yanks the plug out of the wall, tests it with his
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finger, and applies it to Eddie's cheek. Eddie grins in his sleep.]
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Richie: Right.
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[He takes off his shoe and wiggles his toes over Eddie's nose.]
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Richie: Eddie... Eddieee... [no reaction] Bloody hell!... Hah. Well,
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that's just effing marvellous isn't it? So, that's the fun
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evening in with the Scrabble and the fish supper, is it? Hoh! I
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don't know why I bother. I really don't. I've cleared the
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decks, I've hoovered, done all the ironing... I even had a go
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at flushing the toilet. Oh well. Off we go again. Ha. Why do I
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do it?... Because I'm a nice person, that's why. Righty-ho,
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where's the noose?
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[He gets a length of rope out, fixes the noose at the end around Eddie's
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ankle, and walks upstairs, paying out rope behind him.]
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Richie: Oh-ho. La-de-do-de-da... Well, thank you Lord for making me
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such a nice person. Yep, there's not many of us are there --
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just me, Jesus and Mahatma Gandhi. And actually I'm a lot nicer
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than them two. Ho ho... I mean, Jesus had his problems, but he
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didn't have to put Eddie to bed every night! Ho, here we go --
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hwoop!
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[He throws the end of the rope up through the eye of a pulley fixed at the
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top of the stairs and gets ready to pull.]
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Richie: Right, this is it... [sings]
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Do your balls hang low, can you swing them to and fro?
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Can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow?
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Do you get a funny feeling when they're hanging from the
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ceiling?
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Oh you'll never be a sailor if your balls hang low!
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[He pulls on the rope. Eddie slides out of the kitchen into the hall, where
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he gets stuck with one leg on either side of the banister. Richie keeps
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tugging. Eddie's crotch slams into the banister with a crunch.]
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Eddie: [drunkenly] Take it easy Selina, we've got all night...
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Richie: Hoh, yo-ho heave-ho!
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[Richie hauls Eddie feet-first up the stairs.]
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Eddie: Do your worst, you slanty-eyed fiend, I'll never talk!
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[Finally he gets to the top of the stairs, hanging upside-down from the
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pulley.]
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Eddie: Good evening, Your Majesty. I can see your pants from here!
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Richie: Ha.
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[Richie takes a cricket bat, strokes its flat face, and wallops Eddie with
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it. Eddie flies through the air, landing on his feet at the top of the
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stairs.]
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Eddie: What? What? What?!
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[Richie grabs his leg and slips the noose off his foot.]
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Richie: Bedtime Eddie, bedtime!
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Eddie: Right, bedtime. Right. Night-night.
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Richie: Yes, nighty-night!
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[Eddie goes into his room and closes the door behind him.]
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Richie: Five, four, three, two, one...
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[There is a huge crash from behind Eddie's door.]
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Richie: Right, well, nighty-night then. Ah--
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[Richie suddenly has an idea... He unzips his fly, breathes on his palm to
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warm it up, and vanishes into his room flexing his fingers.]
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Scene 2. The Landing.
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---------------------
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[There is a tinkle of breaking glass downstairs, followed by some
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clattering noises. Richie comes out onto the landing.]
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Richie: Eddie? Is that you, Eddie?
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[A loud farty noise is heard from behind Eddie's door.]
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Richie: Oh my God, there's someone downstairs! [softly] Eddie! [taps
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on Eddie's door] Ed-die! Eddiee!
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[Eddie opens the door and punches Richie.]
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Eddie: [shouting] What the bloody hell...
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Richie: No no no, no no, shh shh, listen. Don't panic. But I think
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we've got some trouble... downstairs.
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Eddie: Well that's no reason to wake me up! Just change your
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underpants and see the doctor in the morning.
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Richie: No, Eddie, no! [more clattering downstairs] I think there's
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someone in the drawing-room.
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Eddie: The what-room?
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Richie: The drawing-room.
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Eddie: I don't think I've been in there. What, you mean we've got a
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room just for drawing in?
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Richie: You're so common, aren't you? What do you call it, the snug or
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the saloon or something?
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Eddie: Oh, the lounge!
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Richie: That's it! Yes, the laaunge! There's someone down in the
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laaunge!
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Eddie: Right, well that's that sorted out then. I'm off back to bed,
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I'll see you in the morning.
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Richie: Eddie, no, no! [more noises downstairs] Oh God, what are we
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going to do?
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Eddie: What about?
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Richie: The burglars!
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Eddie: You mean we've got burglars, downstairs, in the sketching-room?
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Richie: Yes.
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Eddie: [screams] Aaaaaarrrrrhh! Aaaaaaarrrhh! [Richie punches him]
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Aaaaaa! [and again] Okay, okay, okay!
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Richie: Alright now?
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Eddie: Yes.
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Richie: Good.
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Eddie: Thank you. Oh and Rich...
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Richie: Yeah? [Eddie punches him] All right now, settled?
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Eddie: Settled.
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Richie: Right. Now what are we going to do?
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[Another tinkle of glass from downstairs.]
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Eddie: Shit our pants?
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Richie: No, I've already done that.
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Eddie: [flapping his hand] Thought so.
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Richie: I'm onto stage two.
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Eddie: What about surrender?
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Richie: Good idea.
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[They put their hands up in the air and start to walk to the stairs.]
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Richie: No, no, they might beat us up.
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Eddie: What, and cut our bodies into a thousand different pieces?
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Richie: And skin us alive.
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Eddie: Yes, and then put on our skins.
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Richie: Yeah, and do foul depraved lovemaking to our still twitching
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corpses.
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Eddie: Yeah, that's it... And eat our livers.
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Richie: Yeah, and drink our blood... ooh, ooh, and play cricket with
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our hearts!
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Eddie: Yes, using our love truncheons as wickets!
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Richie: Haaargh! And then do, do weird sort of pagan dancing flapping
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our skins about the room, and smearing naked girlies' breasts
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with our throbbing disintegrating brains!
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Eddie: It's not much of an option really, is it?
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Richie: Not really, no. Given the choice I'd skip it.
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[More clattering noises from downstairs.]
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Richie: That sounded like the Chesterfield.
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Eddie: No, I don't think it was that far away.
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Richie: Eddie! What if they're looking for drugs?
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Eddie: Oooh! ...We haven't got any drugs.
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Richie: That's what I mean, they'll be here all night!
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Eddie: Well why don't we chuck a Lemsip down the stairs?
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Richie: Eddie, these are hard men. They've been snowballing heroin all
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night!
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Eddie: Aahhh!
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Richie: I don't think a hot lemony drink's gonna assuage their depraved
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cravings!
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Eddie: Got it! What about Bisodol? That should get 'em on the move.
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Richie: No Eddie, there's only one thing for it. You're gonna have to
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go downstairs all on your own and fight them off and phone the
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police.
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Eddie: What? [runs into his room]
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Richie: Eddie, where are you going?
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Eddie: Leicester. Give me a call when it's all over.
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[He closes the door. Richie sobs... Eddie comes out again with a gun in his
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hand.]
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Eddie: Only joking. It's very good for morale.
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Richie: Ah. Oooh! What's that?
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Eddie: It's my mother's old service revolver.
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Richie: Your mother's?
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Eddie: Yes, it was all I was bequeathed. She left me on the doorstep,
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just me, the carry-cot, and this old revolver. Oh, and a little
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note that said, "Please look after my baby. I can't be
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bothered." She was a wonderful mother.
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Richie: Eh? How do you know?
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Eddie: I saw the article in the Police Gazette.
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Richie: Ahh... Well, that's lovely, Eddie. Off you go, down the stairs,
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see 'em off.
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Eddie: Are you joking?
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Richie: Well what's the revolver for then?
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Eddie: Well, to shoot the lock off the roof hatch.
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Richie: Oh, good idea! ...Eh, well, look, why don't we just use the
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key?
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Eddie: God, it's always the same with you, isn't it? We come up
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against a problem and what do you do, you find the simple,
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sensible solution and everything's okey-dokey! I get one little
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chance in my whole lifetime to look a bit sexy, to look a bit
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like Clint Eastwood and -- by the way, I don't want to be
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called Eddie any more, okay? I want to be called Dirty Eddie.
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Okay? So out of the way, punk, while I shoot off the lock!
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Richie: Look, Eddie, do you want to be skinned alive and buggered?
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Eddie: [pointing gun] I'd like to see you try!
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Richie: No no, I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the
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burglars. If you fire that gun they'll hear you. Come on, we'll
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just take the key, and we'll unlock the door. All right?
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[Richie moves his legs as if to climb a ladder.]
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Richie: Well where's the ladder gone?
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Eddie: Well the police confiscated it, remember? When the nurses moved
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in next door.
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Richie: Ah, oh yeah. Well, never mind. You bend over and I'll climb on
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your back.
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Eddie: Okey-dokey skip.
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Richie: Right... [climbs onto Eddie] Ah, careful, careful...
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[There is a loud creak and crash of crockery downstairs.]
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Eddie: That sounds like the Sheffield.
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Richie: Look, Eddie...
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[Richie falls off over the banisters, just managing to grab the hanging
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light over the top of the stairs.]
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Richie: Eddie, help!
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Eddie: Hang on, I'll switch the light on.
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Richie: Yeah... No Eddie, no!
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[Eddie switches on. Richie hangs on, twitching, as sparks fly, before
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letting go and dropping out of sight. There is a loud crash below.]
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Richie: [from below] Help, Eddie, they've got me!
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Eddie: Stand to one side!
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[Eddie runs down the stairs, firing his revolver wildly in all directions.]
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Scene 3. The Flat.
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------------------
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[Richie is sitting on top of a man, dressed in black, including a black
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woolly hat.]
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Burglar: Arrrgh, aahh, ahhh...
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Richie: Oh, oh, Eddie, I've got one!
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Eddie: Don't worry Richie, I've got you covered! Right, up you get,
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come on! Into the colouring-in room!
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Richie: Yeah!
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Eddie: Right, sit on that chair.
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Richie: Yeahhh!
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Burglar: Thank you.
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Richie: We did it, didn't we, we bloody well did it! Yeah, though you
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could take on us, did ya? Though you could take on the
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Hammersmith hard-men? Heh! I'm a Falklands veteran, you know!
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And Eddie here, Eddie's -- got a very special type of gun.
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[The barrel of the gun is splayed out in all directions, cartoon-style.
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Eddie hides it sheepishly.]
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Richie: So, so watch it.
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Burglar: I think you've broken my rib! Gosh, you've got a big bottom.
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Richie: Right, Eddie, tie him up.
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Eddie: Yeah, yeah, tie him up. Give him a bit of his own medicine.
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Richie: Yeah, yeah! And then give him a bit of my medicine. [to
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burglar] And you don't know what I've got yet!
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Eddie: Yeah, tie him up! I can't seem to see the rope anywhere!
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Richie: We can't seem to see the rope anywhere, scared?
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Eddie: Yeahhh! What about... Blutack?
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Richie: Yeahhhh... Well, no, 'cause that's a crap idea isn't it?
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Eddie: Yeah! Just joshing, chief!
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Richie: Yeah, he was just toying with you, punky!
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Eddie: What about... [with a flourish] Sellotape?
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Richie: Do it to him Eddie!
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[Eddie starts winding Sellotape round and around the burglar's body.... The
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burglar is cocooned in Sellotape, with just his head free. His woolly hat
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is also wound with Sellotape.]
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Richie: All right. All right, buster, now I, I want some answers and I
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want them damn quick. ...But obviously not so quick that I
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can't understand what you're saying, okay?
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Eddie: [quietly, from the corner] Hey, Richie.
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Richie: Right, excuse me. [joins Eddie] Yes, what?
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Eddie: Shall I make him sweat, chief?
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Richie: How d'you mean?
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Eddie: You know... stick an overcoat on him, bung a hot-water-bottle
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down his trousers...
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Richie: No no Eddie, no no, that's not the way. We've got to break him,
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psychologically.
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Eddie: Ah-ha.
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Richie: Watch this.
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Eddie: Right.
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Richie: [walks slowly over to the burglar] ...Hello. ...Excuse me.
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[back to Eddie] What do you actually have to say?
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Eddie: Oh no, no, you don't say anything. You just slap 'em about a
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bit. [makes slapping gesture]
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Richie: Oh, oh good, all right. [slapping gesture] Hey, did you train
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for this sort of work?
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Eddie: No, but my uncle used to work in a prison.
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Richie: Oh, what did he do?
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Eddie: Oh, peel potatoes, sew mailbags, anything they told him to
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really.
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Richie: Right, slap him about a bit. [slapping gesture] Good, off I
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go! Do I look good? 'Cause I feel great!
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[Eddie makes a wanking gesture as Richie walks away. Richie walks over to
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the burglar, flapping his hand, and then pinches him on the ear.]
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Richie: Ooohhhheeh! Hah! Okay, Eddie, take over! Break the mother!
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Eddie: What, has his mum turned up?
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Richie: Hh-- no, no no no, question him!
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Eddie: Ah-ha.
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[Eddie walks slowly over to the burglar, puts his foot up on the chair next
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to him, leans forward and looks him in the eyes.]
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Eddie: So... d'you see Emmerdale Farm last night?
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Richie: Eddie, Eddie, a word. [to burglar] Excuse us. [to Eddie]
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That's the wrong line of questioning!
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Eddie: What, you think he's more of a Brookside kind of man?
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Richie: No! God, you're a real embarrassment, aren't you? You're a real
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embarrassment. I mean, we're trying to look really great and
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hard and cool, and you're making us look like a couple of
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ridiculous git-faced scaredy-cat turnips!
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Eddie: But that's what we are!
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Richie: Well I know that, but we don't want him to know, do we? It'll
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undermine our power-base. Come on! ...Oh, this is ridiculous.
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Where are the real police? We can't be expected to deal with
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this! We haven't got the training. [walks to the phone and
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dials] Police, who d'you think! Hello? Haha, evening. It's
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eleven, Mafeking Parade. Yes, get some officers round here
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immediately because--
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[Eddie has found a bag full of loot -- silver candlesticks and the like.]
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Eddie: Richie!
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Richie: Because... we... won't be needing them, er, there's no burglary
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here, sorry to trouble you, I must have been, er, sleep-
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telephoning again. Hmm-hmm, night-night. [puts down phone and
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sighs] Christ, Eddie!
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Eddie: This must be worth thousands!
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Richie: Yeah! Let's keep it!
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Eddie: No, let's flog it off!
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Richie: Sell the flat.
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Eddie: Yes, bugger off to the Bahamas.
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Richie: Birds!
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Eddie: Booze!
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Richie: Breasts!
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Eddie: Bus-fulls of dusky young maidens...
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Richie: Fulfilling every sordid...
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Eddie: Whim!
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Richie: Yeeeah!
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Eddie: And a slap-up grill for two!
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Richie: A-- ...Well, whatever takes your fancy.
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Eddie: Right!
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Richie: Let's go!
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Both: [singing] Whoop! We're going to Barbados, ololololo! Whoop!
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Eddie: Hey, wait a minute!
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Richie: What?
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Eddie: [pointing to the burglar] What about him?
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Richie: Damn. Right. Well, we'll have to... get rid of him somehow.
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Eddie: Well, nobody knows he's here. We could kill him.
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[The burglar looks round nervously.]
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Richie: [to burglar] Excuse us a moment. Eddie, a word.
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[Richie drags Eddie into the kitchen area and pulls the curtain across.]
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Richie: What did you just say?
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Eddie: Well, you know, he's outside the law, isn't he? I mean, he made
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the decision.
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Richie: Eddie, are you seriously suggesting that we murder this poor
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|
defenceless burglar without any trial or anything, just so as
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we can live the high-life in the Bahamas?
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Eddie: Yes.
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Richie: It's a bloody good idea! How shall we do it? I mean, how will
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you do it?
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Eddie: Well, I think we should give him the old fish fingers. They've
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been in there for months, they're absolutely lethal.
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Richie: Nahh, it's no good Eddie, we had them last Thursday.
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Eddie: Did we? Oh, I wondered why I lost three stones last week.
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Richie: Oh, that was you, was it? I've been trying to flush that thing
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for three days!
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|
[Eddie shrugs apologetically.]
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Richie: Mind you, I like the poison motif though, that's very good...
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What about pigeon pellets?
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Eddie: Hmm... I don't think you actually die from eating pigeon poo.
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Richie: No no no no no, I mean the poison pellets the man from the
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Council bunged up there to get rid of the pigeons!
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Eddie: Good idea! Right, I'll put the kettle on, you get upstairs and
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grab a fistful.
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Richie: Ah, no Eddie, no. No, it's too dangerous. You'll have to do it.
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Eddie: Why me?
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Richie: 'Cause you're stupider than I am.
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Eddie: I wish I understood that.
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Richie: Hurry along then, that's the spirit.
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[Eddie climbs out of the kitchen window, not noticing a black-clad figure
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lurking in the shadows further along the ledge.]
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Eddie: I wonder how this endeavour will end?
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[Richie looks around the edge of the curtain.]
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Richie: Just making a cup of tea, Mr. Burglar. Won't be long. [out of
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the window] How's it going, Eddie?
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|
[Eddie is teetering at the edge of the kitchen's glass roof, trying to
|
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stretch out over it.]
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|
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Eddie: Ah, well, it's a bit tricky. I can't quite reach it from here.
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And I think if I lean on it I'm gonna go through.
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|
Richie: Well you'll just have to distribute your weight all at the same
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|
time. Just lower yourself softly over the entire area and it'll
|
|
easily hold your weight.
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Eddie: Okay!
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|
[Eddie spreads his arms and topples forwards, falling straight through into
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the kitchen in a shower of glass.]
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|
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Richie: Well, did you get it?
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[Eddie struggles to his feet, bleeding slightly from a cut on his head.]
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Eddie: Yep, here we go. Doesn't matter about the roof, does it? I
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|
mean, we'll be living in grass skirts from now on won't we?
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Richie: Yeah, ongy-doingy! Right. [calls] One lump or two, Mr.
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|
Burglar? Hahahahaaaahhahaa...
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|
Eddie: Here we are... three cups of steaming hot tea!
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|
Richie: Right, let's do it.
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|
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|
[Richie takes the tray and they walk through into the lounge.]
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Richie: [to the burglar] Lovely evening. Right Eddie, take off his
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|
gag.
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|
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[Eddie grabs the tape covering the burglars mouth and yanks it off, taking
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|
half the burglar's moustache with it.]
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|
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Burglar: Arrrhhh!
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|
Eddie: Where's his moustache gone? [looks on the tape] Oh, ooh,
|
|
there it is. Never mind, you won't be needing it anyway.
|
|
Richie: Shhh! Eddie!
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|
Burglar: What does he mean, I won't be needing it anyway?
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|
Richie: Er... er, well, didn't you know? Eddie's completely insane. Ha!
|
|
He doesn't mean anything by anything he says.
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|
Eddie: Yes, that's right. Ah, er-hooo-hooo! Er, you're going to die!
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|
Richie: You see, complete gibberish. Hahahaha. Cup of tea, Mr. Burglar?
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|
Oh, ah, Eddie, which one's got the, ah...
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|
Eddie: ...The what?
|
|
|
|
[Richie gestures to a mug with his hand.]
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|
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|
Eddie: What, the hand in it?
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|
Richie: No...
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|
|
|
[Richie mimes a pigeon eating something and dropping down dead.]
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|
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|
Eddie: The owl in it.
|
|
|
|
[Richie sighs.]
|
|
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|
Burglar: How many syllables?
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|
Richie: Oh look, just out his gag back on, will you, and come to the
|
|
corner.
|
|
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|
[Eddie does so.]
|
|
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|
Richie: [quietly] No, I mean which one's got the poison in it?
|
|
Eddie: Choh! The yellow one!
|
|
Richie: Right! ...Eddie?
|
|
Eddie: Yes?
|
|
Richie: They're all yellow.
|
|
Eddie: Well it's bound to be one of them then.
|
|
Richie: Yes, but which one?
|
|
Eddie: Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha, the one with the poison in!
|
|
Richie: Right, hold this would you?
|
|
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|
[Eddie takes the tray. Richie picks up a pencil and fingers its point.]
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|
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|
Richie: Right.
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|
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|
[He pushes it slowly up Eddie's nostril.]
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|
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|
Richie: Right, let's get on then, shall we? I'm sorry, Mr. Burglar, but
|
|
there's only one thing for it. you're going to have to drink
|
|
all three cups. Eddie, take off his gag.
|
|
Burglar: No, don't, don't, you've put something in it, no!
|
|
Richie: Shut up and get the tea down toy, will you?
|
|
|
|
[Eddie pours a cup of tea down the burglar.]
|
|
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|
Richie: That's it, another two.
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|
|
|
[Richie holds the other two mugs as the burglar gulps down the tea.]
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|
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|
Burglar: Ahhh!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie replaces his gag.]
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|
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|
Richie: Right, well, this shouldn't take long. Let's have a little sit-
|
|
down.
|
|
|
|
[They pull up chairs, one on either side of the burglar.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Ahhhhh! Ho ho ho!
|
|
Eddie: Ha ha ha!
|
|
Richie: Not all glamour is it, this murdering business?
|
|
Burglar: [muffled] Hhhmm!
|
|
Richie: Oh, sorry, faux pas. Eddie, er, change the subject.
|
|
Eddie: Er, ah, ha. Um, did you know that the common gnat, um, only
|
|
lives for two hours but in its brief life it makes love a
|
|
hundred and sixty-nine times?
|
|
Richie: Oh, extraordinary. That's the mirror opposite of my life.
|
|
[sighs] Oh, that old chestnut love. Haha. Cor, I'm parched.
|
|
Marvellous, isn't it? He's had three cups of tea and he's the
|
|
burglar! How are you feeling by the way?
|
|
|
|
[Richie peels off the burglar's gag. The burglar vomits. There is a bang at
|
|
the door.]
|
|
|
|
Voice: [from outside] Police!
|
|
Richie: [panicking] Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh! Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh! Hoh!
|
|
Eddie, it's the bogeys! Hoh, hoh, right, right, ah, you hide
|
|
the body and I'll get rid of the police. Hoh, hoh hoh!
|
|
|
|
[Richie goes to the front door, takes a deep breath, and opens it. Two
|
|
policemen are standing outside.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Hello officer. Is something the matter? I was fast asleep.
|
|
Policeman: We had a call saying you were being burgled, sir.
|
|
Richie: Oh no. Ha ha. I've been sleep-telephoning again, hahahahaha!
|
|
Sorry to trouble you. Oh well, goodbye! [tries to close the
|
|
door]
|
|
Policeman: Do you mind if we come in, sir?
|
|
Richie: Well, it's a little unexpected, I've got nothing in.
|
|
|
|
[The policeman pushes Richie out of the way. They walk into the flat. Eddie
|
|
is sitting at the table holding a paper up over his face, trembling. There
|
|
is no sign of the burglar.]
|
|
|
|
Policeman: You sure everything's all right, sir? It's a bit of a mess in
|
|
here.
|
|
|
|
[The policeman treads in something with a squelch.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Ohh, sorry, that's me again. Sleep-vomiting.
|
|
|
|
[The policeman walks over to the table and coughs softly. Eddie looks
|
|
slowly over the top of his paper.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Good evening officer.
|
|
Policeman: You all right sir? You seem to have a pencil up your nose.
|
|
Eddie: Oh? Ho, oh yes. I've been sleep-doodling. I'm very bad at it.
|
|
Policeman: You realise this paper's upside-down, sir?
|
|
Eddie: ...So are my eyes. [rolls his eyes]
|
|
Policeman: Hmmm.
|
|
|
|
[Suddenly the policeman lunges over and leans out of the window. The figure
|
|
in the shadows crouches back and goes unnoticed.]
|
|
|
|
Policeman: Did you buy this conservatory in Beirut, sir?
|
|
Richie: Oh good heavens Eddie, we've been sleep-glazing again!
|
|
Policeman: Right. Now look sir. I'm not sure what's going on here. It's
|
|
obviously someone's birthday party or something. But whatever
|
|
it is, [shouts] just stop it, okay!
|
|
Richie: Okay. Thanks for popping round. Well done on the Birmingham Six
|
|
by the way. Hurrah for the filth! Um, I mean the pigs! Er, the
|
|
narcs! Em, oh damn I'm sleep-slanging again!
|
|
Policeman: Whack him, Jenkins.
|
|
Richie: What?
|
|
|
|
[The other officer hits him over the head with his truncheon. Richie
|
|
collapses. The policemen leave.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Bloody hell Richie, that was a close one!
|
|
Richie: What do you mean, close one? He got me! Can't get much closer
|
|
than that! ...Where in Hades is the body?
|
|
Eddie: Ah-ha.
|
|
|
|
[Eddie points with his finger into the lounge and upwards. The burglar is
|
|
stuck to the ceiling with Sellotape.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Oh, fiendish! Eddie, a master-stroke! Ah-ha! ...How do we get
|
|
him down?
|
|
Eddie: Ah.
|
|
Richie: Not to worry, we'll bash him down with the broom. Hwoop!
|
|
|
|
[Richie thumps the broom-head into the burglar's crotch. The burglar
|
|
reacts, thumping his head against the ceiling in pain, but doesn't come
|
|
unstuck.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Ah, it's no good. We'll have to hook a rope around him.
|
|
|
|
[The shadowy figure that was lurking outside comes up behind Eddie and hits
|
|
him on the head with a truncheon. Eddie falls to the ground. Richie doesn't
|
|
notice.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Or we could keep on feeding him sandwiches until he put on
|
|
sufficient weight so that the Sellotape gave way.
|
|
|
|
[The masked man whacks Richie on the head.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Or, we could drill little holes in the bedroom floor and poke
|
|
through with long thin things Eddie. Eddie?
|
|
|
|
[Another whack with the truncheon. Richie crumples.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
Scene 4. The Flat, Later.
|
|
-------------------------
|
|
|
|
[The flat is completely bare apart from Richie and Eddie, tied to chairs in
|
|
the middle of the room. They are naked apart from their underpants. Each of
|
|
them has a mousetrap between his spread legs. Richie wakes up.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Oh, oh, Eddie! What's happening? Where have all my clothes
|
|
gone? This is outrageous! You can see my underpants! Where have
|
|
these mousetraps come from? Eddie, be careful! Don't move a
|
|
muscle!
|
|
Eddie: Hang on. There's a little note sellotaped to my knee.
|
|
Richie: What does it say?
|
|
Eddie: Er... Sue Carpenter.
|
|
Both: Hwooor... Ooh!
|
|
Richie: Oh no!
|
|
|
|
[The traps snap shut, one after the other. They scream. Freeze-frame, roll
|
|
credits.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
Transcription James Kew <j.kew@ic.ac.uk>. Last revised July 1994.
|
|
|
|
"Bottom -- The Scripts", a BBC book, contains full scripts to
|
|
Series One, including many lines that were cut for transmission.
|
|
Series One and Series Two are available on BBC videos.
|