727 lines
33 KiB
Plaintext
727 lines
33 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 1, Episode 5
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'S Up
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=====
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Richie Rik Mayall
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Eddie Adrian Edmondson
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Mr. Harrison Roger Sloman
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Old Lady Evie Garratt
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Mr. Cooper Michael Redfern
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Doctor John Wells
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Scene 1. The Flat.
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------------------
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[Sunday morning. Eddie is watching TV; Richie is clearing the kitchen
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table.]
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Richie: Land of hope and glory, something something else. Land of hope
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and glo-- glo-- [drops the plate he's scraping into the bin]
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glory, that is where I live. Land of hope and glory...
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[He tips the bin out of the window. Dogs bark below.]
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Richie: Morning! Ahh, what a lovely day! God, I love Sundays. Sunday
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papers, stroll in the park, church, and back home for a nice big
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joint of good old English beef. Strawberries and cream, a spot
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of tennis, and a smile in the heart of every true Englishman.
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[to someone below] Morning Vicar, lovely day! [inaudible
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reply] Charming. Somebody got out of bed the wrong side this
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morning. Mind you, he got out of the womb the wrong side.
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[shouting down] And the same to you with brass knobs on, you
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steaming great twat! God, I do feel great today! Ho-ooo, the
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English summertime, gets you right there doesn't it Eddie?
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Eddie? Eddie! Have you ever seen such glorious sunshine?
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Eddie: Close the curtain, I'm trying to watch the TV.
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Richie: Oh Eddie, don't be like that! We should be out there, playing
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cricket! Come on, it's Sunday, it's a day of rest! Absolutely
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nothing to do for twenty-four hours.
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Eddie: It's a bit like every other day then really, isn't it?
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Richie: Oh come on Ed-die, we can't sit around watching videos all day!
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It's a lovely day, the bluebirds are singing--
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Eddie: Look, close the curtain, it's just about to get to the exciting
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bit! [Richie sighs] Now!!
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Richie: Right, right, OK.
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[Richie pulls the curtain across. He sighs.]
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Richie: Well, this is great, isn't it?
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Eddie: Yes. It's just dandy.
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Richie: I cooked you a breakfast, you know. Can't find it now. Have to
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get the torch out. [softly] Breakfast! Where are you
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breakfast?
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Eddie: What is it?
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Richie: It's your favourite Eddie. I cooked you your -- da da da da da
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da daa! -- Sunday fish finger!
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Eddie: But I don't like fish fingers.
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Richie: Oh no, of course, you don't do you? Huh, I make that mistake
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every Sunday don't I? Oh well never mind, I'll eat yours for
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you. Mmm-hmm-hmm!
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[He chews, then realises it doesn't taste very good. Slyly he sniffs the
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fish finger. He turns his head aside and spits it out.]
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Richie: Who's that, anyway?
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Eddie: Oh, that's Mother Bear.
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Richie: I thought she was -- I thought she was dead?
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Eddie: No, no, that's Mr. Rabbit. Anyway he's not dead, he's just
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asleep in the Dingly Dell. That's how he's missed his birthday
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tea, and why they're all out looking for him.
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Richie: Hm. It's not very sexy, is it?
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Eddie: No. I must say, I expected a lot more from "The Furry Honeypot
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Adventure".
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Richie: I think this is for kids you know Eddie! I think those Hussein
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brothers saw you coming again. Well, what else did you get?
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Eddie: "Big Jugs". Hahahaha!
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Richie: "Big Jugs"! All right! [examines it] "A history of pottery in
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the nineteenth century." Anything else?
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Eddie: Well this one's a sure-fire hit. Look. "Swedish Lesbians in
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Blackcurrant Jam".
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Richie: Yabba-dabba-do! No Eddie, it's "Swedish Legends in Blackcurrant
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Jam Making."
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Eddie: Aw, come on, it's got to be dirty, it says "Swedish"! [Richie
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shakes his head] Oh, what a disaster! That's my whole Sunday
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ruined! I spent an hour chosing them, what a swizz! Oh well,
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maybe we should stick with "The Furry Honeypot Adventure". You
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never know, it might perk up in a minute.
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[They watch for a while]
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Richie: Hey-up, look, here comes that rabbit again!
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Eddie: Whor, yup, well now he should be be on for a bit of action.
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Richie: Yeah. I mean, he's a rabbit for Christ's sake!
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Eddie: Yeah!
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Richie: Yay, yay, yay!
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Eddie: Right, here he goes, into the house, and... there's Mrs Bear.
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Haha, go on my son! Whup, he's creeping up behind her... oh,
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he's going to surprise her... and there go all the little baby
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bears. And they're all singing "Happy Birthday"... and having a
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bit of a dance. It's not going to get very dirty, is it?
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Richie: No... You can sort of tell that, can't you, by the way it says
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"The End".
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Eddie: Yeah... Well, I'm bloody sick, I don't mind telling you!
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[Richie opens the curtains.]
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Richie: Well I'm rather glad they weren't dirty actually. I don't think
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that, as a Christian, I could look myself in the face whilst
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watching a dirty video. I mean, it's Sunday for Christ's sake --
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I mean for Heaven's s-- I mean for goodness sake. And are the
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masses all in church praising the Lord's name? No, they're all
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down the vid shop, trying to get their hands on "Pervy Nights in
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Bankok"! It's ironic isn't it. There's plenty of wailing and
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gnashing of teeth going on, but it's not happening in church.
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Eddie: When did you last go to church?
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Richie: Well I don't have to go -- I'm Church of England. What are you,
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Eddie?
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Eddie: I don't know.
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Richie: Well, what was your mother?
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Eddie: A wrestler.
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Richie: Well, maybe that's enough general knowledge for one day.
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[There is a knock at the door.]
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Both: Go away!
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[Mr. Harrison bursts in, looking flustered.]
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Harrison: Hello, gentlemen.
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Richie: Ooh, er, Mr. Harrison. Hello. Look, erm, sorry about the rent--
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Harrison: No, no.
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Richie: Er, er, the fact is the Kruggerand's just crashed so we had to
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move into junk bonds and we couldn't get them out of
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Lichtenstein 'til the end on the month.
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Harrison: No no, no no no.
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Richie: I knew you'd understand.
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[Richie pushes him through the door and closes it.]
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Richie: That was a close one.
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[Another knock at the door.]
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Richie: Come in.
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[It is Mr. Harrison again.]
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Richie: Oh, this is intolerable! Talk about Rachman!
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Harrison: Look, I'm not here for the rent.
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Richie: Oh, great. Come in, sit down. Eddie, a cup of tea!
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Eddie: Oh, yes please.
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Harrison: Look, boys, you've got to help me, I'm in a dreadful fix. I
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completely forgot about my stupid mother's bloody funeral!
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Richie: Hhh! Is she dead?
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Harrison: Well let's hope so -- bloody coffin cost me two hundred quid!
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Cow! Anyway, I've got to go. Please could you run the shop for
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me?
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Richie: I'm sorry, Mr. Harrison, but I have to confess to being frankly
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really rather shocked! I mean, me... running shop... on a Sunday
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of all things. Absolutely not.
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Harrison: Fifty quid.
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Richie: You're on.
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Harrison: Right away -- I've got to be in Penge by noon. Come on, I'll
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show you the ropes.
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Richie: Ah, no no, I don't do lifting. You'll have to show Eddie the
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ropes. Show me the till.
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Eddie: No no no no, show me the drinks cabinet and the sign that says
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"Closed"!
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Scene 2. The Shop.
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------------------
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[Richie, Eddie and Mr. Harrison come in from upstairs.]
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Harrison: Why don't they just stick 'em in the bin, all this palaver...
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Richie: Eh, Mr. Harrison, have you got a sort of white coat or something
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so everyone knows I'm the shopkeeper?
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Harrison: Yeah, hang on, I'll get you one. Here y'are -- and here's one
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for you Eddie.
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Richie: Oh, no no no no no no no, no, haven't you got a sort of brown
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one for him? Or what about a little badge or something that just
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says "Assistant"?
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Harrison: What are you talking about? Look, I'm in a hurry!
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Richie: All right, all right. Well, look Eddie, you'll just have to put
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your jacket on back to front or something.
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Eddie: Piss off!
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Richie: Oh don't kick up a stink Eddie, I know what I'm doing. It's
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nothing personal. It's just that there is a sort of "Upstairs
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Downstairs" thing to any shopping experience, which the shopper
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needs to feel reassured about.
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Eddie: [reluctantly] All right.
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Richie: There. Now everybody knows who everybody is.
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Harrison: [sarcastically] Everybody happy now?
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Richie: Yes thank you.
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Harrison: Right, there's thirty pounds in change in the till, if you'd
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just sign there. I'd better be off, see you later. Two hundred
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pound for a coffin -- and they set fire to the bastard!
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[leaves]
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Richie: This is a bit of all right, isn't it Eddie?
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Eddie: Yeah! Shame he hasn't got a video section.
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Richie: It's a very dignified thing being a shopkeeper, don't you think?
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You know, there's power, integrity, snazzy coat...
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[Richie opens the flap in the counter to go through. It crashes down with a
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crunch on the crisps Eddie has just tipped out for himself.]
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Richie: Yeah. Yeah. "Morning." "Morning." "Morning your Lordship. Oh
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yes, plenty of gravy mix, you help yourself. I'll just put it on
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the slate." "Oi! What do you think you're doing? Shoplifting eh
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sonny? Eh? Eh? Eh? What's the matter, haven't you got enough
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money? So you thought you'd take it out on me, just because I
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earn so much money?"
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[He has been miming hitting someone and realises that the imaginary head is
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now some way from its body.]
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Richie: Ooh, spurt, spurt...
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[He puts the head back.]
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Richie: "Only kidding little kiddie. Go on, take your Jaffa Cakes and
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run along. Go on, off you go. Oh God, why did you make me so
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nice? Has he gone? Right."
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[He mimes pulling up the aerial on a portable phone and dialling.]
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Richie: Eeeep -- bi-bo-bi-bo-bip. "Hello, police? I wanna report a
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theft. Yeah, it was little Johnny Cartwright from the flats.
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Nail the sucker, bust his ass! Yeah, I want him doing twenty to
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ten in the pen! What d'you mean, no evidence? What about the
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goddam Jaffa Cakes, asswipe! Yeah, bullshit, bull-shit! Yeah,
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well I'm gonna get Mayor Dooley to--"
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[A nice old lady has come into the shop and is watching.]
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Old Lady: What's the matter, are you mad?
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[Richie advances on her with clenched fist.]
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Richie: Do you want some of this? Do you? 'Cause you're gonna get it,
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you old git! You're gonna get a right load of this right up your
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bracket! Right load of this, right in your face!
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[She runs out, crying. Richie shouts after her.]
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Richie: That's right, run, go on! Just like you did at Goose Green!
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Argie! [to a passer-by] Morning. [to himself] Brrrr! [to
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Eddie] See? British shopkeeping Eddie, best in the world. Yes,
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yes. [walks back to the counter] Tuna, good. We're a nation of
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shopkeepers, you know. Oh yes, ye-hh-hmm.
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[He lifts the counter flap. It crushes Eddie's crisps again.]
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Richie: That's what makes us so great, you know. They don't call it
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"Great Luxembourg", do they? Hhhm? Or "Great France"?
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Eddie: What's so great about being a nation of shopkeepers?
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Richie: "What's so great about being a nation of shopkeepers"?
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Eddie: Yes, what's so great about it?
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Richie: Well it makes us superior to everyone else. Because we know how
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to run a corner shop. Good grief Eddie, it only takes an ounce
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of brainpower to see that.
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Eddie: Well that should suit you perfectly then.
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Richie: How d'you mean, I don't understand that.
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[Eddie reads his newspaper.]
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Eddie: Gaw! The whole cast of Brookside are lesbians!
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Richie: Yeah? British journalism Eddie, best in the world.
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Eddie: Bloody Nora! Neil Kinnock's grandparents were homosexual
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Martians! He's kept quiet about that, hasn't he?
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Richie: Hhhhm.
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Eddie: Lucky I read that, I was going to vote Labour.
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Richie: Yeah. Another great British scoop, Eddie. Huh! I'd like to see
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the "Amsterdam Evening News" dig up something like that. Frogs.
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Eddie: Hells teeth... You can get AIDS from bicycling!
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Richie: I know, I know. And isn't it funny that you only read that sort
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of thing in a British newspaper?
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Eddie: Yeah, well, you don't read French or Italian newspapers, do you?
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Richie: Well I don't speak French or Italian. Good grief Eddie, hold
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together a cogent argument why don't you? Oh, here we go --
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holidays in the Al-gar-ve. Look at this. No electricity, no
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running water and fifteen hundred quid a month. People pay for
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this. South of France -- we bloody invented it mate! George the
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Third, he was the one. All that swimming business. And the
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windbreak, who invented that? We did. The Brits. Never mind
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covering yourself in Mazola and lying around with a bit of
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string up your crack. A quick dip in the briny, dig up a lugworm
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and back in the car before you get pneumonia. Yep, that's good
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enough for me. Errgh, look at this. Thirty-eight quid return
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coach trip to Nice. "Nude beach".
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[While Richie has been reading the paper, Mr. Cooper has come into the
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shop.]
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Cooper: Er, excuse me, I didn't get my paper this morning.
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Richie: So? Not my problem. Should be more careful.
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Cooper: No, it wasn't delivered.
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Richie: Oh, I get it. Trying to get a free paper, are we? Spend all
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morning doing that and you could open up a little paper shop,
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couldn't you?
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Cooper: Look, I don't know what your game is, but I didn't get my paper
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delivered this morning! Now I have "The Mail on Sunday" so if I
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could just take one now please?
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Eddie: No, that's the last copy.
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Cooper: Okay, I'll take that one.
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Richie: Hang on, hang on! I'm reading that.
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Cooper: Yeah, but it's mine. Look, it's even got my name on it.
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Richie: That's your name is it? "55p"? "Mr. 55p"?
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Cooper: No, my name is Cooper. Look, it's written in biro, in the
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corner?
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Richie: All right then Mr. Cooper, there's your paper.
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[Richie tears off the top of the front page and hands it to him.]
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Richie: Good morning.
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Cooper: Well where's the rest of it?
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Richie: What d'you mean, "Where's the rest of it"?
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Cooper: I would like the rest of my paper.
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Richie: Well then I suggest you go outside, knock, and come in and ask
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for it nicely!
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Cooper: Right.
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[He grabs Richie by the head and slams him down onto the counter. Richie
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vanishes under the counter. Mr. Cooper takes his paper and leaves.]
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Cooper: See you Eddie!
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Eddie: Yeah, bye John.
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[Richie peers up from underneath the counter, checking to see if Mr. Cooper
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has gone. He calls after him, carefully.]
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Richie: Thug!
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Eddie: British thugs Richie, best in the world.
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Richie: Damn! We should have written down the particulars of that nudie
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beach trip.
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Eddie: Well, there is a nudie beach in Brighton you know. It's twelve
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pounds sixty-nine pence exactly on the Inter-City Saver, and the
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nipples are bigger.
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Richie: Hm?
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Eddie: It's the cold wind. They've got these telescopes you put twenty
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pence in. It's very discreet!
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Richie: Hahhh! Let's go! H--no, no, no, no. We've got to run the shop.
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That's what makes us British you see Eddie. The average Frog or
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Brussels Sprout would be halfway down the A3 by now, polishing
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up his zoom lens and sticking bits of garlic up his bum. Not us!
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Eddie: Well, not you maybe.
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Richie: Eddie! Stand firm. Where were you at Agincourt?
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Eddie: I stayed on the bus, remember? With, em, Ethel Cardew.
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Richie: Hmm, no, no, shut up, I wasn't talking about that.
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Eddie: Ahhh-haaw, that's why you don't like France!
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Richie: I don't want to hear this.
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Eddie: You don't like France 'cause you've only ever had one bird, and
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I shagged her. On the Christmas Club coach trip to Bruges.
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Richie: Eddie, she was my fiancee.
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Eddie: Well she didn't know that.
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Richie: Well I hadn't told her yet, had I? I was going to propose to
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her, but I wanted to make it romantic. That's why I decided to
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take her on a cultural tour of the battlefields of the Low
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Countries.
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Eddie: Yeah, but I decided to come along, didn't I?
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Richie: Yes.
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Eddie: I showed her the Low Countries all right. I showed her the
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Nether Regions.
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Richie: All right, all right.
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Eddie: They came at Bruges, they came at Agincourt... talk about The
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Battle of the Bulge!
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Richie: Well I blame myself for being car-sick all over her.
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Customer: H-hmm!
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Eddie: Blimey, it's all go today, isn't it?
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Richie: And a very good morning to you sir, and how may I be of
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assistance to you on this merry day?
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Customer: And good morning to you. Now, assistant, what I'd like this fine
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morning--
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Richie: Excuse me, hang on, hang on, d-d-d-d-d-dddhh. Let's just get one
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thing clear, shall we? I am not an assistant. I am a shopkeeper.
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Customer: Is there a difference?
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Richie: Is there a difference? I've got a white coat on, he's got his
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jacket on back to front! And that's just the tip of the iceberg
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mate! So let's show a bit of respect, shall we? Hm, what would
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you like?
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Customer: Ah, that champagne, please.
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Richie: Hmm. Are you eighteen?
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Customer: No, I'm fifty-four.
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[Eddie slams a bottle of champagne down on the counter.]
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Customer: I want three bottles.
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Eddie: What, are you an alcoholic?
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Customer: It's my daughter's birthday!
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Richie: Oh, it's his daughter's birthday, so he's going to drink three
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bottles of champagne. Well there's modern parenthood for you.
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[Eddie slams the other two bottles down on the counter.]
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Richie: Is it -- what do you think you're doing with that?
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Customer: Ah, this is a... chequebook.
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Richie: But this card only guarantees you for fifty pounds, and I'm
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afraid these items cost more that fifty pounds. So I'm terribly
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sorry, you're going to have to--
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[Eddie opens the drawer of the till. It hits Richie in the groin and he
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vanishes under the counter in pain.]
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Eddie: A cheque will do nicely, er, just make it out to "Eddie Hitler".
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Customer: "Hitler". Ha ha ha, any relation?
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Eddie: [proudly] Yeees.
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Richie: So this is you, is it? This sort of squiggle is you. Well what
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do you do for a living, some sort of modern artist, are you?
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Customer: I am a doctor. Now... bugger... orf!
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Richie: Ooh, that's witty, isn't it? Took you five years of medical
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school to learn that one, did it? On my money, let's not forget
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that! Bloody students, you're all the same. I don't know why you
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don't just go and live in Russia! Go on, get out of my shop! Go
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on, bugger out of it! Go on, on your bicycle! Good grief, Eddie,
|
|
sometimes I think there's only you and me left. Eddie. Eddie.
|
|
Eddie? Eddie? Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! What do you think you're
|
|
doing?
|
|
|
|
[Eddie is tying a bell to the shop door. He balances it on top of the door-
|
|
frame.]
|
|
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|
Eddie: I am gonna watch some cricket.
|
|
Richie: You can't do that! What about the shop?
|
|
Eddie: I've had it with that shop-assisting lark, I resign.
|
|
Richie: Well you won't get your share of the money, you know.
|
|
Eddie: Well, I'm all right mate, I've already got a cheque for fifty-
|
|
three quid.
|
|
Richie: You bastard!
|
|
Eddie: Yep, that's me.
|
|
Richie: You're not going to get away with this, you, you miner! This is
|
|
Britain! Do you hear me, Britain! You're not allowed to go on
|
|
strike any more, it's illegal! And don't forget, I'm a Mason.
|
|
Yeah. I've only got to drop the nod to Scotland Yard and this
|
|
place'll be full of armoured horses and tear-gas before you can
|
|
say "Vote Labour". What are you doing, Eddie?
|
|
Eddie: Don't you worry Richie. You are going to watch the cricket too.
|
|
Richie: I am not. I've got social responsibilities. See this little old
|
|
lady... We shall not fail her. See her walking... See her
|
|
enormous son walking next to her... She looks like the one I
|
|
threatened earlier... See his mighty tattoos... I think he's
|
|
gonna whack me...
|
|
Voice: That's the one!
|
|
|
|
[A fist comes in from off-screen and connects with Richie's face.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: You were right.
|
|
Richie: Maybe watching the cricket would be a bit safer, Eddie. What's
|
|
the plan?
|
|
Eddie: Well. We sit up on the roof, watching the cricket and having a
|
|
bit of a picnic. Someone comes into the shop. They open the
|
|
door. The bell rings. We come down and serve them.
|
|
Richie: Sounds smashing. Come on, let's get out of here!
|
|
Eddie: Righty-ho young Sonny Jim old fella-me-lad matey-skip me old pal
|
|
from the briny, let's fill up the picnic hamper!
|
|
|
|
[Richie holds the bag open. Eddie pushes a whole shelf-load of Mr. Kipling
|
|
cakes into it.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
Scene 3. The Roof.
|
|
------------------
|
|
|
|
[Eddie and Richie are sitting on deck-chairs on the roof. Eddie is looking
|
|
through a pair of binoculars, Richie through an elderly telescope.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Here he comes... here he comes... and he's out! No, no hang on,
|
|
no, he's back in again. Oh! She's closed the curtains. How's the
|
|
cricket going?
|
|
Richie: Well, it... still hasn't started yet... Those stumps are very
|
|
big, aren't they?
|
|
Eddie: Let's have a look... That's the rugby ground. Cricket's over
|
|
there.
|
|
Richie: Oh. Oh yes! Ah ha ha ha haaarh. Ahhhrh.
|
|
Eddie: What's going on?
|
|
Richie: They've broken for lunch. Do do do do...
|
|
Eddie: Why're you putting mayonnaise on your face?
|
|
Richie: It's not mayonnaise, it's sun tan lotion.
|
|
Eddie: Never heard of low calorie sun tan lotion.
|
|
Richie: What? Oh no, blast! Oh God! Oh, argh-rrgh! Phuh! Well where's
|
|
the sun tan lotion then?
|
|
Eddie: You squirted that into your cheese roll.
|
|
Richie: But I ate that!
|
|
Eddie: Yeah, I know.
|
|
Richie: Well why didn't you tell me?
|
|
Eddie: Because I don't like you very much.
|
|
Richie: Harrrhhh! Now I know you're joking me! Ha ha!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie shakes his head.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Hahh, this is the life, isn't it? [an aeroplane flies over]
|
|
Hahhh... I should have been a farmer you know. I really am an
|
|
earth child. I know the deep movement.
|
|
Eddie: Only deep movement you know is when you've had a curry.
|
|
Richie: I am part Red Indian, you know.
|
|
Eddie: That'll be the curry again.
|
|
Richie: No, I am. Cherokee. D'you know, I can even tell when it's going
|
|
to rain.
|
|
Eddie: How d'you do that?
|
|
Richie: Well, I sort of... look up, mystically, you know... check out
|
|
the sky. If I see any black clouds, "That's it," I think,
|
|
"rain".
|
|
Eddie: What was your Red Indian name then? Running Mouth? Sitting Down?
|
|
Talking Bollocks?
|
|
Richie: Dances With The Wind.
|
|
Eddie: That'll be the curry again.
|
|
Richie: Look, I'd advise you to take me seriously, young man, or I might
|
|
very well make it rain.
|
|
Eddie: Well that'll be good. Go on then, Breezy Trousers or whatever
|
|
your name is, go on, make it rain.
|
|
Richie: Eddie, you don't dabble with the deep forces.
|
|
Eddie: Look, there's not a cloud in the sky, I'll give you twenty-five
|
|
quid if you can make it rain.
|
|
Richie: You're on! Right, I shall need a tomohawk. Er, oh this'll do.
|
|
|
|
[He picks up a spatula and gives if a few practice swings]
|
|
|
|
Richie: No, that's good actually. Right, now this may not work properly
|
|
Eddie, I'm used to working in moccasins. Right, put up your
|
|
brolly, this is gonna be a big one! Hwyooo--
|
|
|
|
[Richie starts his dance. His jeans pinch him painfully and he doubles up.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Oh Jesus! Ooh! Ah, hah... Hom-alla-pathion, om-alla-pathion, om-
|
|
alla-pathion, oompah -- rain!
|
|
|
|
[A seagull squawks overhead and splatters Richie's face.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: It worked! Look, Eddie, it -- urgh, bloody hell! Oh, God! Oh, I
|
|
must have used the wrong chant.
|
|
Eddie: What are you going to do now then, bring down a typhoon of
|
|
buffalo dung?
|
|
Richie: I'd advise you to take me seriously mate, or I'll invoke the Big
|
|
Spirit, he doesn't mess around!
|
|
Eddie: Aw, pull the other one mate, it's got bells on!
|
|
|
|
[There is a ring and then a clonk from downstairs.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: How d'you do that?
|
|
Richie: Mystical forces Eddie, mystical forces.
|
|
Eddie: Rubbish! It's the shop, we've got a customer.
|
|
Richie: Eddie?
|
|
Eddie: Yeah?
|
|
Richie: Careful with that step.
|
|
Eddie: What step -- warrgh-arrgh!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie vanishes down the trap-door. There is a clatter below. Richie takes
|
|
the cricket bat that is propping open the trap-door. The lid of the trap-
|
|
door slams closed. Richie uses the cricket bat to booby-trap Eddie's deck-
|
|
chair.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Ha ha ha ha ha... Eddie! I've got a lovely chair for you! Eddie?
|
|
Maybe he's not coming up?
|
|
|
|
[Richie tries to open the trap-door lid but it won't come up.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Eddie! Hah! Eddie! I'm stuck on the roof Eddie! I'm trapped, I
|
|
can't open it from out here! Eddie, Mayday, Mayday!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie pushes the lid open; it catches Richie on the nose with a crunch.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Hoh!
|
|
Eddie: You okay, Richie?
|
|
Richie: [nasally] I think I've broken my nose.
|
|
Eddie: Oh, come on, you'd better have a sit-down then.
|
|
Richie: Hoh, thanks mate.
|
|
|
|
[Eddie guides Richie to the booby-trapped chair; Richie sits down and it
|
|
collapses.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Oh, my back!
|
|
Eddie: Well, you're lucky mate! You should see what's just happened
|
|
downstairs.
|
|
Richie: Why, who was it?
|
|
Eddie: Well that's the strange thing -- there was no-one there. Just
|
|
this bloke lying in the doorway with a bell in the back of his
|
|
head.
|
|
Richie: Did you put the bell back up?
|
|
Eddie: Certainly did mate!
|
|
|
|
[Another tinkle-clonk-yelp from below.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Another customer. Your turn.
|
|
Richie: Oh, er, be an angel Eddie, I've smashed my face in and broken my
|
|
back. I don't think I could handle three flights.
|
|
Eddie: Three quid.
|
|
Richie: Two pound fifty.
|
|
Eddie: Six quid.
|
|
Richie: Oh -- you're on, you're on. Doesn't do to haggle with Eddie too
|
|
long. Ahh, ahh, Eddie?
|
|
Eddie: Yeah?
|
|
Richie: Be careful with that step.
|
|
Eddie: Right -- warrgh!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie vanishes down the trap-door again. Richie props the trapdoor lid
|
|
with the cricket bat and looks around for some string. He finds some tying
|
|
the drainpipe to the railing. He ties one end to the cricket bat.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Ta-ta-ta... Ha ha ha! Tie the string here... so. Oh, need some
|
|
bait. What does Eddie like best? A pickled onion sandwich!
|
|
Right. There. Ha ha ha ha. Perfect. Eddie, oh Eddie! I've made
|
|
your favourite, a pickled onion sandwich! Right. I hide here.
|
|
Eddie comes up, sees the sandwich, says "Ah, a pickled onion
|
|
sandwich, my favourite." I pull the string, cricket bat comes
|
|
out, whack! Eddie gets the full force of the trapdoor in the
|
|
back of the head. Nothing can go wrong.
|
|
|
|
[Eddie comes up silently, sees the sandwich, takes it over to his chair and
|
|
sits down.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Oohh. Great, a pickled onion sandwich, my favourite.
|
|
Richie: Right, get a load of this, you bastard!
|
|
|
|
[Richie pulls the string and the lid slams shut.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Aha, got you! Eddie, you stupid idiot! You let the trap-door
|
|
shut, we're stuck on the roof now!
|
|
Eddie: Well how's that my fault?
|
|
Richie: Well you were supposed to stop it with your head.
|
|
Eddie: I didn't know anything about this.
|
|
Richie: Well of course you didn't, it was a surprise, it was a joke.
|
|
Eddie: But that would have hurt, wouldn't it?
|
|
Richie: Exactly, that's what was so funny about it!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie rolls up his fingers into a fist and advances towards Richie.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Don't you dare.
|
|
|
|
[Tinkle-clonk-scream from below again.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: Another customer.
|
|
Richie: But we're stuck on the roof Eddie!
|
|
Eddie: Well, what about the fire escape?
|
|
Richie: No good. It collapsed, remember, when Tubs Lardy won that bet
|
|
that it wouldn't hold his weight.
|
|
Eddie: Hah, yeah, I remember, shocking mess. That dustbin's still flat.
|
|
Richie: I know, and the cat's still in it. You can hear it when you
|
|
shake it about.
|
|
Eddie: Well what are we going to do about this customer?
|
|
Richie: Well, perhaps you should shout down and tell him that some bald-
|
|
headed looney-tune has trapped us on the roof for ever, so we're
|
|
probably unlikely to be popping down to serve him today!
|
|
Eddie: [looking down] No, that's not going to work.
|
|
Richie: Why not?
|
|
Eddie: 'Cause he's lying on the pavement unconscious with a bell in the
|
|
back of his head. Oh, hang on, hang on -- someone's coming to
|
|
help him. Oh no they're not, no, they're just nicking his
|
|
wallet.
|
|
Richie: Have they got his wedding ring yet?
|
|
Eddie: Ooh, not yet.
|
|
Richie: Well, come on, let's get down there! You know what vultures
|
|
they're like round here.
|
|
Eddie: Look, we cannot get off the roof!
|
|
Richie: Oh don't be ridiculous, there must be some way. Well, couldn't
|
|
we make a parachute out of your trousers?
|
|
Eddie: Well, we could make an aircraft hangar out of yours!
|
|
Richie: Don't you start calling me Mr. Wobblybottom, young lad!
|
|
Eddie: And why not, Mr. Two-planets-colliding-in-a-pair-of-pants?
|
|
Richie: Well you're a fine one to talk -- every time you bend over it's
|
|
like watching two Zeppelins having it off!
|
|
Eddie: Look, this is no time for a discussion about the vastness of
|
|
your bottom. We have got to get off the roof, you madman! The
|
|
people are looting the shop! They are! They're looting the shop!
|
|
Richie: What? You put those Frosties back immediately! You bring back
|
|
that Dream Topping! I'm writing all this down you know, I know
|
|
who you are! And once I've found out your names you'll all be
|
|
for the high jump! That's it Eddie, jump! Why don't you jump? Go
|
|
on, it's only you! You'd be doing a service. You might even get
|
|
the George Cross.
|
|
Eddie: I might get two broken legs.
|
|
Richie: The drainpipe! I'm a genius! Look, it's staring us right in the
|
|
face. Go on, off you go old mate.
|
|
Eddie: No no, why don't you go?
|
|
Richie: Ah, because I've got mayonnaise all over my face, what would
|
|
they think, ha ha? You bring those shelves back! This is getting
|
|
serious. This is going to cost us a fortune.
|
|
Eddie: Money?
|
|
Richie: Yeah, we're going to have to pay for all of this.
|
|
Eddie: Right, I'm on my way.
|
|
|
|
[Eddie climbs over the rail and clings onto the drainpipe.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Ooh, I forgot about the string.
|
|
|
|
[The drainpipe starts to move away from the wall.]
|
|
|
|
Eddie: What string?
|
|
Richie: The string that holds everything... onto... the... edge...
|
|
|
|
[Eddie vanishes from view as the drainpipe continues to lean out further.
|
|
There is a crash below.]
|
|
|
|
Richie: Eddie, are you all right? Is the car? That's it, now fight off
|
|
all the looters. Yeah, get the big one with the tattoos. No,
|
|
you're supposed to hit him! Look, forget it, just come inside
|
|
and lock the doors of the shop, and come up here and get me off
|
|
this bloody roof!
|
|
|
|
[Eddie fights his way through the door and forces it closed.]
|
|
|
|
Voice: Thrust him in the goolies!
|
|
Eddie: And stay out! I'm coming Richie!
|
|
Richie: That's the last time I'm coming up on this wretched roof. Why
|
|
can I never remember the old maxim: "If you want to have a good
|
|
time -- forget it."
|
|
Eddie: Taraa!
|
|
|
|
[The trap-door lid slams shut behind Eddie. It starts to thunder and rain.
|
|
Richie looks at Eddie, looks at his hand, folds his fingers into a fist and
|
|
starts to advance towards him. He catches up with him at the edge of the
|
|
roof and lets fly an enormous punch. Eddie flies over the railing; the
|
|
screen freezes, 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.
|