textfiles/media/SCRIPTS/1-4.a

                                  BOTTOM
                                  ======
                    by Adrian Edmondson and Rik Mayall

                            Series 1, Episode 4


                                Apocalypse
                                ==========

                              Richie  Rik Mayall
                               Eddie  Adrian Edmondson
                        Stall-holder  Mark Arden
                      Fortune-teller  Liz Smith
                               Nurse  Helen Lederer
                    Sir Roger Cobham  Roger Brierley


Scene 1. The Flat.
------------------

[Eddie is standing over the goldfish bowl, poking at the goldfish which is
floating belly-up.]

Richie:   Is it dead?
Eddie:    Yeah.
Richie:   Right. Shall we fry it or poach it?
Eddie:    I don't really care as long as I get the head.
Richie:   Right. And this is definitely the only food in the house?
Eddie:    That's right, the rest is hidden in the cistern.
Richie:   Right, so we bring her in, we sit her down, and she sees that
          we're so poor that we've had to kill Elvis. Just to give her
          something for her tea.
Eddie:    Yeah.
Richie:   She's very fond of animals Eddie, that's why it's so important
          that you're here.
Eddie:    Right.
Richie:   And if that doesn't break her heart--
Eddie:    [holds up a truncheon]  Then this will!
Richie:   No, Eddie, no!
Eddie:    Ah, come on Richie, let's just rumble the old bird!
Richie:   Look, we've got gas bills, we've got electric bills, we've got
          poll tax, we've got rent... Our only chance is to get Auntie Olga
          to write us a big fat cheque. Ooh, that reminds me, I'd better
          get her to bring all her chequebooks. Daft old cow brought a
          bunch of bananas last time. Eddie, spread those bills around
          strategically so she sees one wherever she sits.

[He picks up the phone.]

Richie:   Hello, operator! I'd like to make a, er, reverse charges call
          please. Littlepiddle three three eight.  [to Eddie]  Eddie, you
          know what to say when she gets here?
Eddie:    Yeah. Er, "Give us some money, you old bag."
Richie:   No.
Eddie:    "Give us some money, you old witch." ?
Richie:   No!
Eddie:    "Old bastard."
Richie:   No!!
Eddie:    "Git."
Richie:   No!  [sighs]  You say: "I am a sad orphan."
Eddie:    Right. "I am a sad orphan. Give us some money you old bag!"
Richie:   No you prat! Oh!  [down phone]  Hello operator, not you, ha ha ha
          ha. Yeah, well tell them it's Richard Richard. Yes.  [to Eddie]
          Eddie? Eddie. Sprinkle some water about the place, make it look
          as if we've been crying a lot.  [down phone]  What do you mean
          they won't accept the charges? Bastards!

[He slams the phone down.]

Richie:   I'm going to have to dial direct!
Eddie:    What's this? Annual membership to "Barbarella's Aerobic Fitness
          Centre"?
Richie:   Nothing to do with me.
Eddie:    It's got "Richard Richard" written on it.
Richie:   Ah. Er...
Eddie:    "Leotard"?
Richie:   Well, er, Eddie, none of us are getting any younger. I just pop
          along every Wednesday afternoon and firm up.
Eddie:    What, you, er, you stand at the back of a room full of girls
          jiggling their bottoms up and down and "firm up"?
Richie:   That's right.
Eddie:    I bet you do.
Richie:   Listen you big fat cu-- Ooh!  [down phone]  Ha-hello Auntie! It's
          Rikkie-tikkie-tovie! Kissy-kissy-kissy hug hug hug! Oh it's you
          Mrs. Higginbottom, you sad old fart. Go and get my auntie. What
          d'you mean no? You're still a servant aren't you? Do what you're
          bloody told, get that Zimmer cracking! Listen, shut up, shut up!
          I still remember what I saw when I was four. Yeah. You, the
          chauffeur, the bucket of fish... Yeah. So go and get her! I don't
          care if she's dead, just go and ge-" Eddie, my aunt is dead!
          "When did it happen? Last night? Hmm. So they haven't read the
          will yet? Well look in the desk. Well search the body then! And
          hands off those gold teeth, I've got first dibs on them.
Eddie:    [leans towards the mouthpiece]  I am a sad orphan. Give us your
          gold teeth you old bitch!
Richie:   Shut up! This is a very difficult time for me.  [down phone]
          Have you got it? Great. What does it say? Hh! Fantastic!


Scene 2. The Fair.
------------------

[Richie and Eddie are at a shooting stall. Eddie is firing wildly, smashing
most of the prizes.]

Richie:   Get the duckling, get the little duckling! That's right, blaze
          away Eddie, blaze away. We deserve a little celebration. Auntie
          Olga is dead! At last! Six hundred smackers to do whatever we
          like with! Three hundred pounds right here, and three hundred
          more safe and sound on top of the bathroom cabinet where no-one
          will ever find them. Hahhh!
Eddie:    Right, well I'll have another hundred bullets then please, mate.
Gypsy:    Hold it! That's forty-five quid you owe me so far.
Eddie:    Ah. I haven't got any money.
Richie:   No, no no no no, no need for that! I'll get the forty-five quid.
          Ha ha ha, oh I love you Romany types with your legendary camp-
          fire hospitality and your quaint insistence on settling bills
          immediately! Eh, eh -- thieving bastard gippos! Someone's swiped
          my wallet!
Gypsy:    Yeah, likely story. Come on, I want my forty-five quid!
Richie:   Did you not hear what I just said? I have just lost three hundred
          pounds! Yeah, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was you that
          nicked it, you swarthy thieving nomad! Yeah, either you or one of
          your slippery deformed half-brothers! Yes! Yes! I know what you
          gypsies get up to when the lights go out! Extended family? It's
          just another word for a sexual free-for-all! Well you're not in
          Romania now buster, and I'm gonna go and get a British policeman!

[He suddenly notices the crowd of menacing gypsies gathered behind him.]

Richie:   Ah, er, what are you--

[The stallholder cocks the gun and levels it at Richie.]

Gypsy:    You are going nowhere until I get my forty-five quid.
Richie:   Eddie, help!
Eddie:    Hhh, hang on. Why don't you give me another crack at the fifty
          quid star prize and we'll call it double or quits?
Gypsy:    Yeah, all right.
Richie:   Good luck Eddie!
Eddie:    Um, excuse me mate?
Gypsy:    Yeah?

[The gypsy turns round to Eddie, who shoots him in the eye. Eddie and
Richie run off with the rest of the crowd in pursuit. The stallholder is
doubled up, clutching his hand over his eye. Richie runs back and pokes him
in his other eye, wiping his finger on his jacket afterwards. Eddie and
Richie run through the Haunted House to hide, emerging from the other end
even more shaken. They dive into a fortune-teller's tent, occupied by an
old gypsy woman.]

Richie:   Hah, three hundred quid! Thieving bastard vagabonds!
Woman:    Cross my palm with silver.
Richie:   Oh my God there's another one.
Woman:    Cross my palm with silver.
Richie:   No I will not, you and your lot have had more than enough off me
          today, thank you very much.
Woman:    Then you must leave the tent.
Richie:   Nothing would give me a greater pleasure. How does it look Eddie?
Eddie:    [looking through the flap]  Well, on a scale of one to ten I'd
          say it's bicycle-clip time.
Richie:   All right then, you old battleaxe. You may read me my fortune.
Woman:    First you must cross my palm with silver.
Richie:   Look, I can't cross your palm with silver, I've just had my
          wallet nicked. You're a fortune-teller, you should know that.
Woman:    Cross my palm with silver!
Richie:   Well I've only got 5p left.
Woman:    That's not enough.
Richie:   Give me strength. Well look, can't you criss-cross it about the
          place a bit?
Woman:    It's not enough!
Richie:   Well just give me five pence worth then. We know you get it all
          from the Evening Standard anyway.
Woman:    [normal accent]  For 5p your future's going to look pretty bleak
          mate.
Richie:   Have you got a licence for what you do? I bet you haven't, have
          you? I think either you give me a free fortune-telling or I'll
          phone the police and tell them. Yeah, and they'll deport you back
          to Ummagumma-land or wherever it is you come from, and you'll eke
          out the rest of your days making little elephants from bits of
          dried banana.
Woman:    Yes, I have got a licence. Unlike you. Your driving licence is a
          fake.
Richie:   How do you know that? Eddie, maybe the old crone has got
          something.
Eddie:    Yeah. Looks like dropsy.
Woman:    At least my licence doesn't say "Martin Andrews" crossed out and
          "Sir Richard Richard V.C." crudely written over the top of the
          plastic in biro.
Richie:   How do you know these things?
Woman:    I see... everything.
Richie:   What else do you see?
Woman:    I see... Oooh ho ho, I see a naughty nudie picture of a little
          lady, with Julia Somerville's face plastered on top of it!
Richie:   Bloody hell Eddie! That's my secret love picture that nobody
          knows about! She's a genius!
Eddie:    Yeah! Hey, ask her if she can see a picture of Julia Somerville
          with her own body all nudie.
Richie:   Shut up Eddie!
Eddie:    And whether we can get a copy of it. It'd be worth a fortune,
          that!
Richie:   I think the crone might be worth a fortune. Tell me more, old
          bag.
Woman:    I cannot tell you more without more money.
Richie:   Well I haven't got any more money!
Woman:    Well, give me your watch.
Richie:   All right. There you are.
Woman:    Oooh. Mmmmm... Ahhhhmmm...
Richie:   Ahhhhhhmmm...
Woman:    Before the moon rises three times...
Richie:   Yes? Yes?
Woman:    You're gonna die.
Richie:   Eh? I'm gonna -- what?
Woman:    You are going to die.
Richie:   No! No!
Woman:    The power is fading...
Richie:   Here, let me have a look!
Woman:    The orb is dimming...
Richie:   Hhh, gaw, what a swizz!
Woman:    Well what d'you expect for 5p?
Richie:   And my watch!
Woman:    It's broken.
Richie:   Hahhh! She's a genius!

[Richie and Eddie run out, leaving the fortune-teller sitting at the table
smiling knowingly.]


Scene 3. A Hospital.
--------------------

[Eddie and Richie stride into the waiting-room of a hospital. Richie pushes
his way to the front of the queue.]

Richie:   Come on, come on! Out of the way, out of the way. Out of the way.
          Look,are you terminal? Come on, come on! I want to see a doctor.
Nurse:    Do you have an appointment?
Richie:   Of course I have an appointment.
Nurse:    What's your name?

[Richie looks at her appointment list.]

Richie:   Er... Williams.
Nurse:    Oh. Mr. Williams. Goodness gracious, you are looking well.
Richie:   Well, you know, like to put a brave face on it. One doesn't like
          to wallow in these things. Ha--
Nurse:    Yes, and you've grown two new legs.
Richie:   Yeah, they're good aren't they... No no, not Williams, that other
          name that sounds like Williams, er, er, there it is -- Henderson.
          Ha haha, I always get those ones mixed up.
Nurse:    That's even more remarkable, Mr. Henderson. You died at six
          o'clock this morning and you've changed sex.
Richie:   All right Poirot, so I haven't got an appointment.
Nurse:    Well why didn't you make an appointment?
Richie:   Because I didn't know I was going to be ill!
Nurse:    I'm sorry sir, but unless it's an emergency...
Richie:   It is! It is! It's an emergency.
Nurse:    Why, what's the matter?
Richie:   I've only got three days to live!
Nurse:    Why, what's wrong with you?
Richie:   I don't know.
Nurse:    Well how do you feel?
Richie:   I feel great.
Nurse:    Look, there's some genuinely sick people in here who need
          attention.
Richie:   Yeah, I think you're one of them, Missus!
Nurse:    We can fit you in a week next Friday.
Richie:   So this is it is it? This is the land fit for heroes. I hurt my
          leg in the Falklands conflict for this, did I?
Man:      Did he?
Eddie:    Oh yeah, he tripped over the coffee table trying to switch
          channels.
Richie:   Well it's just not good enough! I pay my taxes! Er -- well, er,
          anyway, that's not important. I demand to see a doctor! Right
          now! Or what's the matter, are they all round the back flogging
          off the morphine?

[Richie's shouting has disturbed a surgeon, who emerges from a curtained
alcove. He is dressed in a pink gown.]

Surgeon:  Look, I've got a dying woman in here, will you shut up and get
          out! You look perfectly well to me.
Richie:   Perfectly well? Look buster, if I'd wanted a transvestite's
          opinion I'd have gone to the Whisky-a-go-go! I'm here to see a
          doctor.
Surgeon:  Do you mind? I'm Sir Roger Cobham OBE, the world famous heart
          surgeon, this is my hospital!

[He gives Richie a brief looking-over.]

Surgeon:  Now then, you look perfectly well to me. Shut up and get out.
Richie:   Oh thank God. Hah-ur... Sorry I didn't recognise you there Doc.

[He leans on the patient. Blood spurts out.]

Richie:   Sorry! Got bad eyesight you see. It's a Falklands war wound.
          Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, thanks again mate!

[He slaps the surgeon on the back, pushing him down onto the now
bloodstained patient.]

Richie:   Sorry. Well look, is there anything I can do to help? I mean, I
          owe you one now. Anything you want, just name it. You want spare
          parts? Look. I've got Eddie right here. Anything I can do to
          help, just name it.
Surgeon:  I want you to stop talking and leave this hospital!
Richie:   You've got it, we're out of here. Come on Eddie, you heard the
          man.

[Richie has an idea and turns back to talk to the surgeon again.]

Richie:   Hey, come on, come on.

[He leans on the patient again. There is a nasty squelch. Blood spurts.]

Richie:   Oh, sorry, sorry. Come on, I know the NHS. Have a quid. Go on --
          oh, haven't got any money. Well I'll owe it to you. All right?
          Thanks again mate. Ha ha. And thanks to you, dear. Should she
          really be that colour?
Surgeon:  Get out!
Richie:   Right, well, there we are Eddie. See you all later. Ha ha ha ha
          ha. Hah. Thanks dear, you're doing a great job.

[He pinches the nurse's cheek, notices he has stained her face with blood,
and wipes his hands on some of the papers on her desk.]

Richie:   Ha ha. There you are Eddie -- clean bill of health. Huh. See, I
          know the old crone was insane. Oh great -- the lift's working
          again.

[There is an old man in a wheelchair in front of the lift. The "Out of
Order" sign is hanging around his neck.]

Richie:   Hahh, it's so good to be alive! After you old-timer.

[Richie pushes the old man through the doors, however there is no lift
behind them. He falls down the shaft with a scream. Richie and Eddie peer
down the shaft. There is a crash from below; they both flinch.]

Richie:   God, that's terrible! That could have been me.

[The lift doors close again.]

Richie:   That's it Eddie! That's what she meant. Of course I'm not ill,
          look at me, I'm the picture of health! An accident, that's how
          it's going to happen! The question is, how?


Scene 4. The Flat.
------------------

[Richie is in hiding under the up-turned sofa. Eddie is preparing a huge
fry-up.]

Eddie:    You sure you don't want your sausages?
Richie:   No I do not. I'm not taking any chances.
Eddie:    Okey-dokey matey!

[Eddie scoops all the food onto his plate and slings the frying pan into
the corner of the room.]

Richie:   Hoh -- what was that apocalyptic clonk?
Eddie:    Well I didn't see anything. Relax old chum, I'm on guard,
          remember?
Richie:   [to himself]  Must be hallucinating. Three days now with no food
          or water. Still, I'm safe under the sofa. And I've only got to
          make it until the moon comes up tonight. And then I'll have
          something to eat all right. Ha ha. There's a couple of Taiwanese
          Ranch-Style Jumbo Fish-Burgers in the freezer that have got my
          name on them.
Eddie:    No, you've had them.
Richie:   No I haven't!
Eddie:    Yeah, you had them for lunch. Remember?
Richie:   I haven't had anything to eat for the last three days!
Eddie:    Well, no, obviously you didn't eat them. I ate them for you. You
          made me test them for poison, remember? Like I've been testing
          everything. I'm bloody knackered I am. You're lucky to have such
          a good mate. I've tested all that Indian take-away, those three
          pizzas, bottle of Scotch -- I had to test all of that. Totally
          tested out the drinks cabinet. Things got so bad I had to test
          that box of liqueur chocolates we've been saving for our
          anniversary.
Richie:   Oh, I'm starving I am! Has the moon come up yet Eddie?
Eddie:    I can't see from here.
Richie:   Well go and have a look!
Eddie:    You go and have a look!
Richie:   I can't go near the window. You know that. I might fall out. Or
          the window might fall in.
Eddie:    Well I can't go, they might think I'm Sean Connery.
Richie:   What? You don't look a bit like Sean Connery.
Eddie:    [Michael Caine impression]  "'Allo. My name's James Bond. Not a
          lot of people know that."
Richie:   I don't know. Maybe death would be a blessed release.
Eddie:    "Zulus. Thousands of 'em. Wait 'til you see the whites of their
          eyes, lads." They would have won if they'd kept their eyes
          closed! "Not a lot of people know that."
Richie:   Eddie, Eddie! Eddie!
Eddie:    What?
Richie:   Here's 5p. Shut up, and go and see if the moon's come up!
Eddie:    That's two things.
Richie:   All right. Here you are.  [quietly]  Swindler.  [calls to Eddie]
          Well, what does it look like?
Eddie:    Hah! Well, it's all so hard to tell. It's all so glum and cloudy,
          you know, like it normally is. Hard to tell whether it's day or
          night. Shall I switch the telly on and see if it's evening yet?
Richie:   Yes, go on old sport.

[Eddie puts the television on. The "Neighbours" theme tune. He switches it
back off again.]

Eddie:    Well, it could be any time really.
Richie:   Oh blast that vicious old gypsy slag-wagon! I've been stuck
          underneath this sofa for three whole days now. And absolutely
          nothing's happened. Well I'm fed up with it. I'm going to the
          lavvy once and for all. I'm not scared of any silly mumbo-jumbo.
          If it's coming it's coming. I'm not scared. I'm going to stare
          Fate right in the face.

[He walks, hard, into the edge of the open door.]

Richie:   Arghh! Oh God, it's true, it's true! Did you see that Eddie? Huh!
          You see? It could come from anywhere! Should the ceiling be
          sagging like that? What is that, what have you got up there?
Eddie:    Ah, that's my piano.
Richie:   In the middle of the room?
Eddie:    Yeah.
Richie:   Well that's dangerous, that shouldn't be up there. Go up there
          and shift it!
Eddie:    It'll cost you.
Richie:   [sighs]  All right. There's a 20p bit inside a polythene bag,
          sellotaped to the bottom of the cistern.
Eddie:    Righty-ho.
Richie:   And hurry up!
Eddie:    Running all the way.

[Eddie leaves. Richie kneels and prays.]

Richie:   Oh Lord. You won't know me, but my name's Richard Richard. And
          you won't know me because I've led such a quiet and blameless
          life. Well, apart from that incident with the oven-ready chicken.
          I have already apologised about that, I don't know if you
          remember, but I did. Haha. Anyway, look, the thing is we haven't
          got much time. Er, I was wondering if I could do a little deal
          with you? You see, because I don't deserve any of this at all.
          But I know somebody who does. There's Eddie, that chap who just
          went out.

[Some terrible piano playing drifts down from upstairs.]

Richie:   'Cause he's a foul pervert, and a dole-scrounger. Er...  [shouts]
          Look, could you just stop piddling around and move it, will you!
          You bastard!  [praying]  No, no, not you Sir. Our Lord. I was
          talking to Eddie, the evil one. The thing is, if you could see
          your way clear to murdering him horribly instead of me then I
          promise, and I mean it, look, I haven't got my fingers crossed or
          anything, I, I promise that I'll go to church for the rest of my
          life. You do still do that thing with the wine and the biscuits,
          don't you? Great. Thank you for your time. Oh, oh, one other
          thing, Lord. If you're, if you're still there. Seeing as I'm
          going to live, it's about girls. I was -- Shut up Eddie! -- I was
          wondering if I could just have a few more. Will you shut up
          Eddie! Or just one, once. I mean, you're -- right, that's it!

[He runs to the door and shouts up the stairs.]

Richie:   Edward Hitler, come down here at once!

[The piano, complete with Eddie sitting on the piano-stool, crashes through
the ceiling right onto the spot where Richie was standing earlier.]

Richie:   It's you!
Eddie:    Well who did you expect it to be?
Richie:   You're the one! You're the one who said "Let's go to the fair."
          You're the one who shot the thug in the eye. You're the one who
          said "Let's hide in the gypsy's tent" where I got the curse! And
          then, on the third night, just before the moon rose, you drop a
          piano on my head! Bastard! You're after Auntie Olga's three
          hundred quid, aren't you? Well I've got news for you, buster!
          You're out of here!

[He hits Eddie over the head with the poker. Clang!]

Richie:   You're history.  [clang!]  How could you treat a friend so badly,
          I'd never do anything like that!  [clang]  Go on, get out of here
          before I set the dogs on you!
Eddie:    We haven't got any dogs!
Richie:   Yes, I know we haven't. It was a figure  [clang, clang]  of
          [clang]  speech.  [clang]  Get out!

[A final blow sends Eddie tumbling down the stairs.]

Richie:   And good riddance!

[Richie slams the door shut. He sighs and looks at the bent poker.]

Richie:   My poker!


Scene 5. Richie's Bedroom.
--------------------------

[Richie is in his pyjamas.]

Richie:   Ha ha ha. Safe at last. Hah, I think I'll just pop into bed with
          my hottie-bottie.

[He climbs into bed and puts his hot-water-bottle between his legs.]

Richie:   Hahhh, oohhh -- ooh! Hahhhh! Where's my bedside book? Ah, here we
          are: "War and Peace". We've been at it a few years now, haven't
          we old mate? Where was I?

[He flicks through the book, eventually finding his place.]

Richie:   Ah yes. Chapter One, sentence three.  [reads]  Oh! Hah, here we
          go again. Where's the dictionary? I'll never find out who did it
          at this rate. Lucky enough to find out what is was they did. Oh,
          that's enough reading for one night. Hahhh, tired. Hoahh -- good
          for the soul though, a bit of reading. No doubt about that. Ooh,
          I'm all relaxed now. That's nice. D'you know, I think I might --
          no, I'll just go to sleep. Nighty-night world, God bless me! See
          you in the morning -- not too early! Hah... wonder whatever
          happened to my Mum? Oh well, heigh-ho.

[A door creaks downstairs.]

Richie:   Hah! No, no. Hahhh...

[Another creak.]

Richie:   It's bloody Eddie! It's bloody Eddie, sneaking in to get me when
          I switch the lights out. Well I've got a surprise for him.
          Where's my cricket bat?

[Footsteps approach the door. Someone knocks hard three times.]

Richie:   Come in!

[Dramatic music as a tall figure in a black cloak and cowl, carrying a
scythe, enters. Richie cowers in terror.]

Richie:   Are you? Have you come from? No, no... Oh my God! The moon's up!
          Oh my God! She was right! She was right! Oh my God! Jesus H.
          Corbett! I mean Christ! This can't be happening to me! No, come
          on, come on, let's be English about this. Excuse me! This is a
          private house. If you don't clear off my property immediately I
          shall be forced to call the police!

[The figure crosses to the phone, yanks the cord out of the wall, and
throws the phone through the window.]

Richie:   Okay, point taken. So this is it is it?  [Death nods]  Ahhh-h, I
          have no time, I am not ready! Have I got time to change? I can't
          really go up there in my jimmy-jams, can I? What would Saint Pete
          think? They do call him Saint Pete, don't they? First impressions
          are terribly important, I always think. Unless... Whi-which way
          am I going? Up, or...

[Death raises his arm high, pointing up...]

Richie:   Ahhh.

[...and then plunges it down.]

Richie:   Arrghhhh! Ahh, aghh, ahh... no, no, no, no, no...

[Richie starts sobbing. Death staggers against the wall. He raises his cowl
-- it is Eddie. Richie doesn't notice.]

Richie:   Wait! Wait! What about chess?
Eddie:    [deep rasping voice]  What about it?
Richie:   Hoohh! Why don't we play a game of chess?
Eddie:    Umm... because I don't know the rules!
Richie:   Well, that's all right, I'll teach you the rules.
Eddie:    No. You won't need rules where you're going mate. You'll need
          asbestos underpants! 'Cause you're going downstairs, me old
          cocker! Ooh, the moans. Ooh, the screams. Ooh, the countless
          billions thrown naked into the pit.
Richie:   Ah-hhhh-aaawww -- naked? Hworrggh! Wait, wait, wait. What about
          Cluedo?
Eddie:    Nah, they tried it once mate, but all the pieces caught fire.
Richie:   No no no, I mean why don't we play Cluedo for my life?
Eddie:    Because you always cheat! You always look at the mystery cards!
Richie:   How do you know these things?
Eddie:    I'm Death!
Richie:   Sorry.  [shouts]  How do you know these things?
Eddie:    No, I'm Death! I'm Death!
Richie:   Oh, if only Eddie were here.
Eddie:    Yeah. Eddie was pretty great at everything, wasn't he?
Richie:   Well you wouldn't have come in if he was here mate. The pong
          would have sent you round the twist.
Eddie:    Right, that's it mate, your time's up! Time to get out, don't try
          and object... 
Richie:   No, no! Please, please! Give me one more chance. I-Spy.
Eddie:    Ummmm. Um, okay.
Richie:   Okay. A-a-and if I win, I get to live, okay?
Eddie:    Okey-dokey matey!
Richie:   Pardon?
Eddie:    Hm-hm, I mean all right, mortal.
Richie:   [suspicious for a moment]  Hh, it's not possible. Okay, I-Spy it
          is. Oh God this is important. Better make it a goodie. Okay,
          coming, ready or not. I spy with my little eye something
          beginning with "S".
Eddie:    "Submarine".
Richie:   No! Ha ha! It was "Scythe". Ha ha! Oh, I win, I get to live!
          Thank you Baby Jesus! Thank you all the Baby Jesuses!
Eddie:    Hang on, hang on, hang on! "Scythe" doesn't begin with an "S".
Richie:   Yes it does!
Eddie:    It bloody doesn't, it's a "C"!
Richie:   It's not!
Eddie:    It is, get a dictionary!
Richie:   All right, I've got one here. Here. Scythe, scythe, scythe. There
          you are, "Scythe". "S-C-Y-T-H-E".
Eddie:    That's "Sither".
Richie:   It's "Scythe", it says "Scythe" there! It's in the dictionary,
          Jesus wrote this!
Eddie:    All right then mortal, I can see you're eager to keep your life.
          How's about I offer you a straight deal?
Richie:   A deal? Sure, no problem. Great.
Eddie:    How much money have you got in the house?
Richie:   Oh, none.
Eddie:    What about the three hundred quid on top of the bathroom cabinet?
Richie:   How do you know about that?
Eddie:    God, I keep telling you mate, I'm Death. I know everything.
Richie:   Everything? What, even about the--
Eddie:    Especially that, you naughty boy.
Richie:   Oh no, I'll get the money, just don't tell anybody! You wait
          right here!

[Richie rushes out. Eddie falls over onto the bed, stumbling around the
room on his stilts and eventually managing to stand up again. He gets back
up just as Richie comes back in with the money.]

Richie:   Here you are! So I give you the three hundred, and I get to keep
          my life. Okay?
Eddie:    Nnn -- not quite. No. Ah, the full deal is this: I get to keep
          the three hundred pounds, and your fantastic mate, Eddie, gets to
          live here rent free for the rest of his life.
Richie:   Okay. It's a deal.
Eddie:    And while I'm at it, I'll have that secret copy of "Girlie World"
          you keep hidden under your mattress.  [Richie hesitates]  Or
          you'll burn in the fires of Hell!
Richie:   Oh all right. Bye. Is that everything now?
Eddie:    That's it mate! Cheerio! Ah hahaha, three hundred quid and a copy
          of "Girlie World"! Hahahahaha! Woop!

[Eddie falls down the stairs, ending up in a heap at the bottom.]

Eddie:    Oh, blimey, I think I've broken my stilts!
Richie:   Eddie Hitler, you total bastard! How did you know about my secret
          copy of "Girlie World"? Right, that's it, you're going to get a
          knuckle sandwich and I don't mean a sandwich with some knuckles
          in it! Well, I do actually, er -- well no, I don't really, well -
          - Well you're going to get a smash in the chops and no questions
          answered anyway!

[He is about to punch Eddie when there is a knock on the front door.]

Richie:   Well who on earth can that be at this time of night?
Eddie:    Well I'm not expecting anyone.
Richie:   Hhhh -- maybe it's the real Death!
Eddie:    Hey, now that'd be a turn-up!

[The door is smashed down.]

Richie:   Eddie, you fight him to the death and I'll slip down the fire
          escape.
Eddie:    Too late.

[It is the gypsy stallholder from the fair.]

Gypsy:    Sir Richard Richard, Esquire?
Both:     Oh, that's him.
Gypsy:    I've got your wallet.
Both:     Oh, that'd be me then.
Richie:   How very honest of you. You know, I have always said that you
          Romany types are as generous as the day is--
Gypsy:    All the credit cards have expired. And the driving licence is a
          forgery. And apart from the nudie collage of Julia Somerville,
          it's of no use to me. Rather like my eye!
Richie:   So that's how she knew all those things!
Gypsy:    Now, how much money have you got in the house?
Richie:   None.
Gypsy:    Well what about that three hundred pounds that I've heard about,
          that you've got safely ensconced on top of the bathroom cabinet?
Eddie:    Um, it-it-it-it's not there any more.
Gypsy:    Well I'll just have to have this then, won't I? That should just
          about cover the three hundred pounds they told me in Harley
          Street it would cost to get me eye fixed. Yeah, and while I'm
          here, I think I'll have that copy of "Girlie World" an' all.
Richie:   Very wise choice Sir. Oh, one more thing.
Gypsy:    Yeah?
Richie:   Well, seeing as you're here. Would you like to kick Eddie in the
          bollocks?
Gypsy:    Don't mind if I do. Thank you very much.
Richie:   Be my guest.

[The kick lands with a terrible crunch. The screen freezes on Eddie's
pained face, the credits roll.]


     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.