The M'lud Life : Episode Two
"The Businessman
Within"
EXT. DAY. Train Station
[Hilary is waving goodbye to his mother[1] out of the window]
Hilary
Goodbye! Love you!
Mother
Come and see me again soon!
Hilary
I'll hold my breath! [he puffs out his cheeks, crosses his eyes, and wobbles his head]
[they wave, then
Hilary settles in his seat. Realising he is still holding his breath, the air
finally bursts out. He is sitting at a table seat, and the three other chairs
are empty. First, a businessman sits opposite him. They stare aggressively at
each other. Another sits next to him. Hilary begins to sweat, and fingers the
gavel, which is on his leg. A third businessman fills the final seat, and
Hilary starts to shudder. All the businessmen put a mobile phone on the table
as they sat down. After a silence, all the mobile phones ring. They answer.]
One
I want in on the ground floor on this deal, Patrick.
Two
Cancel my eleven o'clock brunch moot - the MD's biting my arse here.
Three
Can you just run with me on this one, Duncan?
[Hilary glances
around, panicky. He is getting worse]
One
No dice, Petersen, no dice.
Two
[tapping on a personal organiser] I've got a window at five.
Three
Dammit, Lesley, it's my balls blu-tacked to the boardroom carpet here!
[close up on
mouths, repeating snippets of the above - "biting my arse", "run
with me", "no dice", "brunch moot" - on the third
cycle "run with me" is spoken in a woman's voice. An angelic
businesswoman stands at the table. She beckons Hilary, who floats out of his
body towards her, translucent.]
Hilary
Who... who are you?
Angel
Why, Hilary, I'm your Guardian Angel.
Hilary
What? Why are you here?
Angel
You are in grave peril. Your brain has induced a state of sleep to protect you from the vile business jargon.
Hilary
[shuddering] Uhr.. but what's the problem?
Angel
Nothing... yet. Here, their vulgarities can only effect you at a subliminal level. There is, however, one drawback.
Hilary
What is it?
Angel
There are only two ways for you to wake up. You can wait for the businessmen to leave, and your brain will release you.
Hilary
Ace!
Angel
But that will take you.... [she looks stern] past your station.
Hilary
But Killian is cooking me a shepherd’s pie.... He’ll kill me if I’m late. He did last time.
Angel
You must confront, and conquer, that part within you that yearns for windsor knots and thinks that jeans have no place in nightclubs. Only then can you face the real-life businessmen and their brutal lingual perversions.
Hilary
There is no businessman in me! I won't hear such filthy nonsense!
Angel
Follow me...
[The train zooms
on...]
OPENING CREDITS
N/rator
Trains. To some, they are metal horses, foraging in metal horse stations for humans to eat, only to find their squalor too much to digest, and vomit them up somewhere else. To others, a knife of urban decay shearing through fields, taking ugly people to partners who stopped loving them years ago. But first and foremost, trains take tidy men from indifferent houses to lockable desks. These people are businessmen. Businessmen. The brunt of trendy anarchic comedy since the birth of the yuppy, this episode is a plea for tolerance. We’ll show that their wife-beating and stress-related hair loss make them more human than you or I could ever hope to be. We’ll celebrate The Businessman Within. [caption, then opening credits]
Killian
Right then, you stand there. Toes to the chalk line.
Mary
What is this all about?
Killian
You want to live here, right? And we're all judges. If you want to live here, you've got to be a judge. And judges trust each other. We have to, so we can all drink drive, shoplift and fondle lovely girls without fear of punishment. This is a test of that trust. Put your hands by your side.
Mary
I'm not entirely sure about this.
Killian
[sighing, explaining, he paces in front of Mary] Look, Mary, it's not that I don't like you. You're a nice young thing. And you saved our lives last week from a flying cat. Don't think I've forgotten that. But we're living together, and I've got some speciality condiments in my cupboard that I don't want to go midnight walkies into the tonguebox of some Hungry Horace... [he whips his head around to look at Mary] or Hungry Henrietta.
Mary
[resigned] What do I do then?
Killian
Just stand there, and don't move a muscle. No harm will come to you. I promise.
[he takes out a
hand on a telescopic trellis. the index and forefinger are extended as though
to poke out your eyes. he points it at Mary. We see her through a target.]
Killian
Have faith in me... and you will be rewarded.
[he presses the
trigger, which shoots towards Mary's eyes, and at the last minute Mary blocks
it by putting her hand to her nose. Her move prevents her from being
blinded.The trellis hangs improbably, sproinging]
Mary
What the green baize fury?
Killian
[pensive, retracting the machine] You took steps to defend yourself from me. You cast me as the foe. That hurts me, where it hurts.
Mary
[still confused and exasperated] In the pocket?
Killian
Close.
Mary
But the spring was too long! It would have blinded me!
Killian
Ah, but you didn't know that before you betrayed me, did you?
Mary
Well, ... doh! This is stupid.
Killian
I must think of a punishment. Aha! Community Service!
[fade out, then in
to a room filled with children. Killian introduces Mary to the scene]
Killian
The Shropshire District Annual Children's Bingo Championships. And you are the caller.
[A child snorts a
black marker pen and falls over with it stuck up his nose]
[Two children saw
on a thirds arm with a bingo card, chanting "paper cut! paper cut!" -
they look around to see Mary and all is silent]
They are most unruly.
Mary
But I hate children! They're everything I loathe! The product of sex!
Childs
[in the background] Bingo! Bingo! Bingo!
Killian
And they want to play bingo...
[Mary is suddenly
on her own. She picks up a ball and reads it.]
Mary
Two-Oh, Blind Twenty.
[in the audience a
girl screams - a proper horror scream]
Mary
[squinting] Is she dead?
[blood spatters
into her face]
[Hilary and the Angel are washing their hands next to each other.
About the dream world - it is normal, except train station signs often pass by
windows, and pictures of Killian’s Shepherd's Pie are in all the rooms]
Angel
Now that wasn't nearly good enough, Hilary. The dropping segment of your toilet venture was sloppy at best. An inefficient three-splash combo with residual crust on anal beard.
Hilary
I got it all off in the end.
Angel
At a gross net cost of 12 squares of toilet roll! It's not on! Your arse is going to have to be tightened up to be a feasible investment. That is, if you don't want to... miss your station, and Killian’s world famous shepherd's pie.
Hilary
What can I do to make my arse a more attractive proposition?
Angel
Well... we can normally trace these things, using psychology, to the first ever time you wiped your arse on your own. Shall we go back?
[SPECIAL effect, a
five year old Hilary sits on the toilet]
Hilary
Mum! I've finished! [longish pause] Muuuum!
[Hilary hops off
the toilet. From a crawling child’s point of view, we search the house, and
find the mother is under the sink cabinet with the handyman. Then back to the
toilet (quickly). Hilary tentatively pulls at the paper, and four sheets fall
into his hand. He folds it in half twice, very deliberately. The Angel walks
through the toilet door into the toilet, and Hilary is old again.]
Angel
Your mother wasn't there for you, was she? You had to work it out for yourself, and with such a family breakdown you slipped into a bad crack habit. Look at you! You didn’t even refold the paper. Some people refold three times.
Hilary
[upset] Why weren't you there, mother?
Angel
[slapping him] Forget your mother, you wretched child. I'm your momma and your poppa now. You answer only to me.... and of course.. [he points upwards] the boss.
Hilary
What... you mean God?
Angel
[visibly pained, rasping - retreating behind hooked wrists] Never say that word! God has no place in the business world! He is not a viable proposition!
Hilary
[to himself] I don’t know, the church don’t do too badly out of him. But you’re right - Killian always says that God has no place in the courtroom, or schools.
Angel
Then we’re making some progress.
Hilary
Crumbs.
EXT. DAY. The Real High Street.
[Killian and Mary
are standing on the opposite side of the road to a pair of street preachers.
The preachers can be seen between the two - one is a short bald bloke wearing a
wig, the other a busty bombshell (clearly leading inexorably to Benny Hill
style fun) - they carry placards stating "God loves you" and
"Come to God"]
Killian
Do you believe in God, Mary?
Mary
God?
Killian
Yes. Do you believe in a... higher law?
Mary
I'd never really thought about it. I suppose not.
Killian
Good. If you want to live with us and be a judge, you can't have conflicting allegiances. You either follow the law, or you can join them [he points] right now.
Mary
Can't I keep a little agnosticism?
Killian
Let me put it this way. If God came down and mugged a pensioner in this town, he'd have his face shoved indelicately against the bonnet of a panda car before he knew it.
Mary
Only he would know it, surely. Being omnicogniscent.
Killian
That's probably why we don't get God mugging many pensioners in these parts.
Mary
Why would God mug a pensioner?
Killian
Why, Mary, haven't you heard? He moves in mysterious ways. But “moving in mysterious ways” isn’t a recognised defence, otherwise handicapped people would be above the law.
Mary
Yes, I do see your point, actually.
Killian
Let's test you out then. Come over the road.
[They cross the
road to the Christians, and stand behind them]
Killian
Right then. You know what to do.
Mary
I do. Using only the techniques prescribed by Benny Hill before his death, create disharmony in the ranks of the Christians.
[The following is
done in a mime, but with the yabbering of the Christians done in speeded up
babble. A tribute indeed to Benny Hill.]
[She walks past,
and taps them both on the inside shoulders, then walks away, unnoticed - they
look at each other for a couple of seconds, then they get back to heckling
innocents.]
[Mary walks back
and pinches them on the arse. They both look, then slap each other. Eventually
they resume the shouting at passers-by.]
[final run - Mary
takes off the wig and walks past - the man turns to the woman and shakes his
fist at her, she sees Mary and points, and they both chase her. They run for a
while (perhaps in some amusing places) until Mary thinks of something, stops,
and turns to face them]
Mary
[sweetly] Oh, I'm sorry.
[the Christians
stop as though by an invisible wall - they want to hit her but they can't]
Bloke
Nyg... bah... We forgive you. But only because we have to.
Bird
Eye for a eye! Eye for an eye!
Bloke
We’re New Testament[2], Sandy.
Bird
Shit.
[the girl gives a
dirty look and they walk off. Killian is suddenly standing next to Mary]
Mary
Well?
Killian
Not bad... a clumsy wig-grab, compensated by the abuse of the Christian ethic of forgiveness. You're learning, Mary. Come on, let's go home. Jools has been on his own for hours now. He might want to go wees.
[The Angel and
Hilary are standing on the outside of the dancefloor, where fat people are
dancing in suits - Hilary's wig has been slicked back and is tied up in a
ponytail]
Angel
Breath it all in, Hilary, my boy - this is your adventure playground. Your weekly treat for a job well done. Look at all these people. They’re yours to play with.
Hilary
Urf... I feel sick...
Angel
As well you should... you've had twelve pints of piss lager and a Peperami Hot.
Hilary
oowoarg....
Angel
Come on, Hilz! There's the girl of your dreams! Waiting for a dance!
Hilary
kwoartgh...
Angel
She looked at you! Come on... she winked at you! That dirty slut wants you so much!
[The Angel grabs
Hilary's head and makes him look at her]
Angel
Feast your eyes on that honey...
[blurry beery
vision -Hilary starts talking to a lizard woman]
Hilary
Hello. This face leaves in five minutes. You’re very nice.
Angel
Hilary, come away from the lizard woman. She’s over here.
Hilary
Mamma! Mamma! You came for me!
Mother
Get us a drink and I’ll let you suck me tits.
Hilary
Mother! I’m surprised at you!
Angel
It’s not your mother. It’s Kylie, the first of the generation of Kylies and Jasons to reach the age of consent. Painfully working class, and to be treated like shit. Charm her, promise her the world, fuck her, then forget she ever pinned her hopes on you.
Hilary
Criminy.
Angel
[pushing him over] Chat her up... go on... use a clever chat-up line on her. Us girls love clever chat-up lines.
Hilary
But I don't really want to. I don't fancy....
Angel
This is a dream, Hilary. You can do what you like. It doesn’t matter. Would you rather miss your station, and your Shepherd’s Pie?
Hilary
[resigned] Where is she then?
Angel
Right there. I'll leave you to it.
Hilary
Right... OK... If you were a tree, you'd be a poplar, like, yeah, because everyone likes you.
Kylie
Yer what?
Hilary
And... if you stem my weeping I willow you my heart.
Kylie
Ooh, that's dead romantic that is.
Hilary
And if you'd root around for my trunk and bark like a dog I’ll never leaf you. I’m making a film. Do you want to be in it? It’s about beautiful women like you. You’re very beautiful.
Kylie
Eeh, ya dirty bastard! You just want us to jemmy open me flaps.
Hilary
Go on, don't be a beech.
Kylie
Oooh! Yer clever, you. Gizza kiss!
[they kiss, and
Hilary visibly gags. Without showing any vomit, Hilary pukes into the woman's
mouth. Her eyes open wide in surprise]
Hilary
[separating, strings of vomit connecting their lips] Urff... here, have a menthol fag. It'll freshen your breath. [the woman runs away, choking]
Angel
Excellent performance!
Hilary
I vomited into her mouth. I can’t believe I vomited into her mouth. People will call me.... well, they’ll still call me Hilary, but they’ll know I vomited into a woman’s mouth.
Angel
Extreme behaviour! The menfolk will love it!
Hilary
Am I doing well, then?
Angel
Not bad at all, so far. The ability to misbehave is fundamental. You make this country work – you deserve to let your hair down. These bastards owe you.
Hilary
[arms draped over a railing] Yeahurrr...
[Jools sits in a
chair, slouched excessively.]
TV
[clips of teenagers riding their bikes into a wall] Post Offices around the country have been laid seige by BMX Ram Raiders. The teenagers, thought to come from dysfunctional families, listen to rap music, and have little respect for Members of Parliament.
Boy
Yeah, like... them politicians, they can, like, get stuffed, eh?
Girl
Yeah. They should all, you know, eat dog pats.
TV
[a child swagging painkillers in a field] The introduction of a new painkiller, previously only used on people who had been skewered on iron railings in the hours up to their death, has been branded dangerous by a Consumer's Association. [the child falls over] The drowsying effect has already caused a woman to let go of her pram on a hill, and as we can see, [combine harvester with sleeping farmer and cameraman on board] this combine harvester is headed straight for a kipping child. [close up on a spilled bottle of pill in the harvester] Our camera crew can only watch and wince. Ah... sleep, those little slices of death.
[and finally - caption reads "Chairy
Bakewell"]
And finally, random incidences of furniture have occurred throughout the Midlands today, a Futon appearing next to a runway at 6am. Soon after, breakfast bars were seen clustering around a travel agent, trapping the customers inside for up to an hour. Finally, a chair materialised on four upturned cherry bakewells, and the cherries were found to be ideal wheels.
[to the room, Jools
has been playing around with a hook and a piece of string, tipping the hook
from one end to the other - he has an idea]
Jools
[as the lift dings] Right then my boys, let's see what Jools has for you.
INt. DAy. The real Lift.
[Killian and Mary
are goin' up]
Killian
[edges towards slightly] You know, Mary, I had my doubts about you. I thought you were a stern-faced old bitch unfit to wear the judicial wig.
[Jools fixes a
wheel to the ceiling]
Mary
And now?
[Jools fixes another
wheel]
Killian
[edging again] I think you'll make a superb judge.
[he attaches them with string]
Mary
That's very.. ambiguous. Thank you.
[he puts on a metal
clip, and hangs in a harness]
Killian
[turns to face her - she stares at the lift door] Mary... I'm half Italian and as such I have little control over my emotions or physical acts - when I’m close to women in lifts, I get these terrible urges...
[Aerosmith’s Love
In An Elevator starts. Mary looks ahead, trying to ignore Killian]
[Outside the lift,
(the music stopped), the lift arrives. As the doors open, the music continues.
Killian is poking one of Mary’s boobs while she just stands there, bored.
Killian is having a whale of a time.]
[Jools, dangling in
his nappy harness, slices a rope with a sword and goes sailing towards the
lift. Mary sees him and screams.This makes Killian poke even more furiously.
From a Jool’s eye view, zoom into Mary’s mouth.]
[The next thing we
see is Mary pressed bodily against the back wall of the lift by Jools]
Jools
Krypton Factor!
Killian
[straightening his jacket, pretending nothing happened] You'll have to forgive Jools. Thursday is his day off, and he gets bored.
Mary
Have I signed my contract yet?
Killian
Yes, you’re here for a year so get used to it.
[he sniffs his
poking finger and has a lick]
Hilary's Dream World, Training sequence.
[The angel stands
over Hilary as he undergoes his final training, in the style of Karate Kid.
THESE ARE The activities that he becomes better at, MIXING up the light comedy
with the disturbing…
drinking cocktails
(competely missing, putting his face into the glass, then drinking properly
through steadily more elaborate straws)
on the Stock
Exchange (facing the wrong way, waving a bunch of flowers, trying to start a
conga, then doing it perfectly),
WALKING PAST TRAMPS
: GIVING THEM MONEY, IGNORING THEM, TELLING THEM TO GET A JOB, THEN PUTTING THE
BOOT IN SEVERELY ON A SLEEPING TRAMP
taking only one
square of toilet paper to wipe, ripping off a quarter of a sheet while the
angel cheers him on,
CHATTING UP WOMEN;
SHOWING THEM PORTFOLIOS OF HIS “PHOTOGRAPHY” and film scripts, stroking his
barely concealed hard-on, and HUMPING A WOMAN AGAINST THE WALL WHO CLEARLY
ISN’T ENJOYING IT]
Angel
The time has come, Hilary. You have cultivated the chunk of businessman in the most wretched reach of your soul, and you have become that which you never thought you could. It is time to complete the transition. You have earned the right to your own personal cellular phone. [she presents him with a golden phone]
Hilary
[wincing and shying away from the phone] But.... no!
Angel
TAKE IT, YOU SNIVELLING TURD!
Hilary
[taking the phone sulkily] OK, but I don't like this one bit.
Angel
[the angel is now dressed in Judge's clothes - she slaps Hilary] I’m not a businesswoman any more, Hilary. I’m a judge. But look at you! You make me sick! In your crapulous cuff-links and your mobile bloody phone! Have you no self-respect? [taking a pen out of his breast pocket] What the HELL is this?
Hilary
Now that's very practical, actually. You can underline the more interesting numbers with that.
Angel
More interesting? What constitutes an interesting number?
Hilary
Erm... big ones...
Angel
Eat me then shit me then eat me then shit me, listen to you! You'll be doing feasibility studies and [losing certainty] projecting time scales [regaining certainty] before the next tax year!
Hilary
Hang on, you gave all this to me!
Angel
And you took them. And in your new suit, you seem to be forgetting the situation here. I'm YOU. This is a dream!
Hilary
Oh, dear. Oh, very dear. Hang on, if I gave all this to myself, where did I get it from?
Angel
[thinks, then ignores the question] Hilary. What you want is to wake up before the Ludlow stop. And it appears that this is the only way. From here, however, there seems to be only one logical conclusion.
Hilary
And that is..?
Angel
You've got to meet the CEO. In the business world, he reigns supreme.
[ceremony in the
lounge]
Killian
Mary. When you came here seven days ago, I thought you were rubbish. Rubbish, I tells ya. But it seems that you are not so rubbish after all.
Mary
[pleased] You silver tongued rogue.
Killian
And now, you’re only a whisker away from leaving your lucrative job in loss adjusting to become an unpaid magistrate. With Lord Jools on the organ, let the final pumping begin!
[Game show - Jools
plonks about on an organ, erratically but not badly]
Killian
First, I must interview you. [tapping a board with a cane, a photo of a woman playing the double bass] This is a picture of a woman playing the double bass. Is that legal?
Mary
Yes…. as long you don’t see her… doobries.
Jools
[singing] The bass is ace, and there’ll be no legal case,
Unless you’re rash and you flash your gash…. [he winks]
Killian
Very good! Now then, what crime am I miming? [he holds up his arms]
Mary
Hands. Wrists. Elbows. Arms! Arms!
[touches his nose
and points - then wobbles his arms around]
Mary
Wobbles. Rubber. Waiter, this chicken is rubbery! No. Wobbly hands.... rubber arms.... Armed Rubbery!
Jools
[singing] If you follow the mime and commit the crime,
You're an armed rubber and you'll do time. [he wags his finger]
Killian
Absolutely right! And your final test... [he unveils a fairground bull-horn strength tester] You must conquer the bull of injustice. [the machine snorts & moos - Mary dusts her hands, takes the horns and tries - she struggles as we go into the intermission]
INTERMISSION - MONSTERS IN YOUR HANDBAG
Kid 1
Mum, we want to play, but it's raining.
Mother
Here you go, play with my handbag for a while.
Kid 2
Aw, mum, handbags are booring! We want guns, with real bullets.
Narrator
Hey, Girls! Think handbags are boring? Boys! Think handbags are girly, and for girls? Well you're all wrong! This is the '90s, and there's something new in your handbags.
[the handbag
wobbles, grumbles, and roars]
Old Timer
[running to the hills] There's monsters in them thar handbags!
[the kids poke in a
stick, and fight with the monsters inside]
[improvisational
Jazz song]
Song
Monsters in your handbag, there's monsters in your handbag... oh yeah,
There really are a number of them, eating your lipstick, what a drag,
And giving birth to smaller monsters in the inner pocket, oh man.
Lay it on me, bro.
Narrator
Monsters in your Handbag was recorded in front of a living studio audience.
9. The Lounge.
[Mary struggles
with the bull, in some pain]
Killian
Come away from the bull, Mary. You can't win.
Mary
Must... vanquish... bull... [struggle further, then falls exhausted to the floor]
Killian
Excellent! You have done well, Justice Mary Highpole.
Mary
But the bull's horns escape unscathed.
Killian
The bull cannot be beaten. Crime will always roam the streets, snorting, mooing, and trampling innocents with its four hooves of pain, despair, injustice and.... badness. But Mary, you fought the bull, and you didn't even stop when you saw the futility of literally wrestling a metaphorical bull.
Mary
Oh.
Killian
As a judge you will need this pig-headed oomph, this unthinking gumption. It's a crusade, Mary, and you must be willing to be gored by angered bulls when you wave the red rag of virtuous integrity.
Mary
Will I get gored often?
Killian
More often than you’d like. Believe me.
Jools
[still playing the organ]
She grappled the bull and wouldn't budge,
From her navel to her gavel she's a bo-na fi-de judge! [thumbs up]
INT. DAY. Dream Office.
[they approach the
door to the boss, Mr Finlay. The angel stops]
Angel
I cannot go any further than this. You must face the boss alone.
Hilary
What do I do?
Angel
You’ve become a businessman. If you were still a judge, you wouldn’t have got this far. And the boss has been hearing good things about you. I think he’s taken quite a shine to you, Hilary.
Hilary
How do you mean?
Angel
He’s old, and he’s looking for someone to give his empire to. He’s thinking of you.
Hilary
Brilliant! I’ll be rich!
Angel
Yes, you’ll be rich and asleep on a train, forever. You’ve got to get the sack, if you ever want to wake up.
Hilary
Well, that shouldn't be hard. Getting the sack should be a cinch. I got sacked from that magazine, for drawing willies in the margins. [he looks around, the angel is gone. he breathes deeply. Mr Finlay’s secretary calls over to him]
Secretary
Hilary! I heard about you vomiting all over that working-class whore. Well done. Those earthy bitches should be shot, if you ask me.
[Hilary nods and
knocks on the door. A hearty voice booms out. Mr Finlay is a fat man, in
control but cheerful enough]
Finlay
Hilary my boy! Come in! Ho, heard about your exploits at that discotheque - if I was thirty years younger and had both my legs, I'd have been there with you, son. Bourbon?
Hilary
Thanks.
Finlay
Good man. When I took you on board, Hilary, I was taking a big gamble. The others on the board laughed at me, said that you were a slavering fool. But I saw the spark, that wonderful, hungry, spark.
Hilary
[thinking voice] Say something!
Finlay
I want to sculpt you, Hilary. Although not literally, of course. That might be incredibly messy, and the cleaners won't mop up blood. It clogs up the mops, and they have to clean the original mops with bigger mops.
[Hilary looks
around for anything]
Finlay
I've got big plans for you, Hilary. You're like the son I lost in that card game to me. You're going straight to the top.
Hilary
Ermm... Kiss my curvy white butt.
Finlay
I beg your pardon?
Hilary
[gaining in confidence] Come over here, get down on all fours, and pucker up for arse.
Finlay
What's come over you, man?
Hilary
I've been hanging around with a bad crowd, and now I don't respect authority figures. Hence my request that you prise your heaving cheeks from that padded chair, tunnel your snout up my crack and get tongueing.
Finlay
That’s my boy! That’s the disrespect that this company needs! Fresh blood! Hilary, I’m going to hug you for twenty seconds. When I let you go, there will be a little tear in my eye.
Hilary
[pointing to his arse] Bollocks. I’m going to have to try something more extreme. Perhaps if I put this fifty pound note up my arse…
[he does so]
Finlay
Spectacular display, Hilary. It looks like the Queen’s gasping for breath there.
Hilary
Shit. Boss, I’ve got something I want to say. I’ve had sex with your thirteen year old daughter. I dressed her up like a zebra and rode her around your kitchen.
Finlay
I can’t say I approve of that. However, I did have concerns that my children would be used against me in my pursuit of money and power, so I had them both destroyed two months ago. I’ve never been one to become preoccupied with morality. Why, I’d have probably given her a slap on the arse myself if I’d been there.
Hilary
Oh, this is useless. Can I just resign?
Finlay
[angered, surprised] Resign? What the hell are you talking about?
Hilary
I want to resign.
Finlay
[grim] Well, that’s lovely. Unfortunately we don’t have a procedure for resignations.
Hilary
Well, I’m leaving now. Goodbye.
Finlay
You misunderstand me, Hilary. The only way you leave this company is… dead.
[finlay presses a
button, and three ninjas drop from the ceiling. Ninja one, cold and efficient.
Two, camp. Three, needs a piss]
Ninja 1
[Birmingham accent] Hello. Where's the victim?
Finlay
There he is, kill him.
Ninja 2
[camp] Oh, a pretty one.
Ninja 1
You can have him when he’s dead.
Ninja 3
Where's the toilet? I'm busting for a pee.
Finlay
Kill him!
[hilary drops to
the floor and starts crawling towards the door]
Ninja 2
Where’s he gone?
Ninja 1
Is he in the vase?
Ninja 3
He might be in the toilet. I’ll go and check.
Ninja 2
No, it’s no good. He’ll be miles away by now. Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Finlay? What’s wrong, sir? Are you upset?
Finlay
I'm grieving... a lost son.
Ninja 1
Shall I pop the kettle on?
Finlay
That's very considerate. Thank you.
Ninja 2
[to self, repeating like old woman] I'll pop the kettle on.
11. Dream Train. Waking Up.
Angel
Well, it's ten minutes until your stop. Looks like you made it.
Hilary
You know, I've found that in this dream world I am the ultimate dictator. I can kiss the backs of dinosaurs, and ride on the lips of beautiful women. If I wanted to.
Angel
Don't be ridiculous, Hilary. You're not a God.
Hilary
Oh, yeah? Well, how do you explain.... this? [he closes his eyes, and the scene outside the windows changes to a starfield]
PA
We are currently cruising at just over the speed of light. If you look to the left, you may see yourselves turning left to look at yourself. We will be landing soon on the planet Dagobar, where Yoda trained the young Luke Skywalker in the workings of the Force.
Angel
So what? We're in outer space. It's just a dream.
Hilary
Not just in outer space, we're on the real Star Wars Tour.
Angel
There's no shepherd's pie in outer space, Hilary.
Hilary
In my dream world, I will eat exotic dogs.
Angel
Come to terms with it, man. You've got to wake up sometime, or you'll starve to death.
Hilary
Stop it! Or I'll turn you into an Ewok.
Angel
I saved you, Hilary. Without me, you'd still be having a spastic snooze.
Hilary
But you said you were me.
Angel
[now a man] I lied. I was sent to help you. You have a mission, Hilary.
Hilary
I know. I have to pinpoint the localised area of temporal flux, before reversing the polarity of neutrino flow. Only this will take us all back to the 26th Century.
Angel
[annoyed, he brings back all the field scenery] Right. Stop it. These businessmen are your mission. You have learned that within us all, there is a six inch tall businessman, wallowing in the turd in your bowels. But also, within these executives, there lurks a sliver of humanity. I believe, that if this sliver is nurtured to maturity, then we may find some hope for mankind.
Hilary
You stole my stars.
Angel
You'll wake up in ten seconds. Save the businessmen, Hilary, and you will be rich. In spirit, that is.
Hilary
[suspicious] Hey, you're not God are you?
Angel
Naah.
Hilary
Well who are you then?
Angel
[laughing] Do you know, I really don't know? Let's just say I'm a concerned omnipotent being from another dimension.
Hilary
Fair do's.
12. The Lounge.
[Mary is dressed up
in full judge's garb]
Mary
This thing hurts my... [gestures her breasts] you knows....
Killian
[looking at Jools for help, who shrugs] No... what do they hurt?
Mary
My.. erm.. thingies.. Oh, you do know, what ladies have.
Killian
It hurts your handbag?
Mary
No. Right, what's the difference between men and women?
Killian
We're aroused by virtually everything, like the way an ornate chair looks like the profile of a naked woman.
Mary
Well, yes... but... Look, what are these? [she points at her breasts]
Killian
And we wank loads.
Jools
Breasts!
Mary
Yes! That's what the gown hurts. My thingies.
Killian
Well it would. The tailoring trade's union refuses to acknowledge that women have any place in court. So they put breast restrainers in to make you look more like a man. And to punish you for your insolence.
Mary
Couldn't I cut out a couple of holes?
Jools
[pictures the scene - Mary stands in court, a pointy bra showing beneath the holes in the gown, and with a whip in her hand. She shouts huskily "You naughty vermin, you're going down..." back to real life, Jools is shuddering excitedly] Ufruer... knickers....
Killian
I don't see why not.
Mary
Well, that's about it then.
Killian
Yes.
[pause]
Killian
There's not much else for us to do.
Mary
Not today.
Jools
I'm off into the bedroom.
Killian
Right.
Mary
Goodbye.
[pause. Mary sighs.
The phone rings. They both scramble for it. Killian wins with a rather brutal
tackle]
Killian
Hello? [downcast] Hello, Hilary. Yes, very well. Oh, does it really matter? [hangs up]
Mary
[excited] What was it? What did he say? Is it serious?
Killian
From Hilary? He's about as dangerous as a seat belt. No, he's just said that his train's late and could we keep the Shepherd's Pie warm.
Mary
[sagging] Oh. I didn't know he had a Shepherd's Pie.
Killian
I wonder how he 'phoned from a train?
Mary
They have phonecard booths in trains.
Killian
Yes, but Hilary won't use Phonecards since he cut himself on the edge of one. He thinks that it bit him, and they're alive.
13. The Real Train
[Hilary hands a
mobile phone back to the businessman opposite, holding it out by the aerial
like somebody else's hot sock.]
Hilary
Eu, thank you very much.
George
[looking at Jools as though he just farted, he dials quickly and starts talking] Janet? Get your pregnant arse into gear. I've just spent a non-productive time-frame acting charitably. We'll need to claim tax back on the last forty-five seconds.
[The general
business babble resumes]
P/A
Will all those with mobile phones please note that we will soon be passing under a tunnel. Do not become angry or violent as reception is interrupted, normal service will be resumed within eight seconds.
[Hilary looks out
of the window. He sees the tunnel approaching. He looks around and sees the
emergency stop handle. He cannot get towards it in time, the fat businessman
blocking his path. He grips his gavel, checks tunnel, and presses a button on
the handle. The head jettisons towards the handle, sprouts three grappling
hooks, and pulls the handle. The train screeches to rest in the middle of the
tunnel. All the chatter stops, and there is perfect silence except for slight
birdsong. The businessmen look around from their phone conversations, and
notice each other. Slow but lovely music box style music fades in.]
Businessman 1
What's that sound?
Businessman 2
It sounds like a river of love, lapping against the banks of my heart.
[a businessman rubs
his eyes as if waking up from a twenty year sleep]
Businessman 3
I mustn't be afraid to tell my wife I love her, and that she doesn’t have to wear that clamp tonight.
Businessman 4
[looking at a small whisky bottle] You're not my real friend. My God, I don't need you. Jilly, tonight you will escape your ritual beating.
[two businessmen
hug in the aisle. others try to join in the embrace. one pats another's arse,
and he turns around, frowns, then smiles, then they kiss. The music box crescendoes into a full
rousing chorus]
Businessman 5
I always wanted to be a pirate!
[an old businessman
drops his trousers and dances. His shirt flaps prevent indignity]
[it all gets a bit
confusing now, as the businessmen start doing their own things around the
train. There is......
Robin Hood -
shooting suckered arrows onto people's foreheads...
Dracula - seducing
a transvestite
The Muppets - in
their own first class compartment, flying around like they do
and others... to be
remembered or invented later. A fair few non-famous people, just made up
foolishly, though. In the middle, Hilary is rather nonplussed.]
[The engine starts
up again, and the train starts to move out of the tunnel. Everyone looks
around, and takes their seat. Still in costume, just rather self-conscious and
chaste. Small snippets of former chaos remain - two businessmen bicker about a
slice of shortbread, and another belches]
P/A
We apologise for our brief stop in a tunnel. We would like to point out that the train was fully lit throughout.
ext. dusk. real Train Station.
[People disembark
in a huge conga. Hilary watches. The angel is next to him]
Hilary
You know, I think there's one thing I'm missing.
Angel
Yes?
Hilary
The point. I mean, is there a moral here? It sort of feels there should be.
Angel
What do you think?
Hilary
I thought the moral was that the technology we use to being ourselves closer, paradoxically keeps us further apart. And that predatory greed is its own undoing. But it all stopped making sense.
Angel
Everyone seemed to enjoy it.
Hilary
So raucous anarchic hedonism is a good thing?
Angel
Have you ever tried it?
Hilary
Well, no. Judges don’t go for anarchy much.
Angel
[handing over a can of beer] Here.
Hilary
Beer? Cheers.
Angel
Life is like drugs, Hilary. You want as much of them as possible, and if you're not jacked up to a drug box, you're wasting precious time.
Hilary
Can you live yourself into a pool of your own vomit?
Angel
Yes. And then it is time for a chicken kebab, or a Twix.
Hilary
What does that represent?
Angel
Oh, love, or forgiveness, something like that.
Hilary
I think I understand. But if this was a symbolic journey, what was the Shepherd's pie all about? It wasn’t Jesus as a Shepherd, was it?
Angel
And being in a big pie? I don’t think God would sanction a Jesus – Pie metaphor. You were probably just hungry.
Hilary
And what do you represent? Are you some angel, demon, or maybe the brutally neutral mirror of our souls?
Angel
I’m just a man on a train.
Hilary
Mmm, you're probably right. I should take more drugs.
Angel
There's my boy! Have another beer! Later, there’ll be crack.
Hilary
Ahargh! Now we're living!
INT. EVENING. The Lounge.
Killian
This is too much. Hilary's two hours late. What could be keeping him?
Mary
Perhaps he's stopped for some food. He must have been hungry.
Killian
And how long can it take to eat a mangy sandwich?
Mary
Depends.
Killian
Oh, yeah? On what?
Mary
The sandwich.
[the lift dings]
Killian
That'll be him. [into the lift telecom] Come in, Hilary, you've got some fancy explaining to do.
[the doors open,
and Hilary stumbles about, pissed as a fart]
Hilary
Killian! I've missed you so much! Mary! You're looking... simply... s-wish! I want you to meet my friend, he's an angel, or something, and we've been having an adventure.
Killian
[there is no angel, by the way] I can smell cheap beer. Hilary, you floozy! you've been out drinking! My God!
Hilary
Sssh! Ssssh! You'll scare him away. Shay hello, erm... what'sh your name? [he swings around, realising the Angel isn't there] S'odd. Ooh, what's this? Oh, a squeaky toy!
Mary
I bought it for the cat.
[Hilary plays
persistently with the rubber hammer - Mary and Killian watch - the cat
walks around and Miaows in its
Liverpudlian accent]
Killian
Oh, I can't be bothered with this. I'm going to bed. Hilary - clean your teeth when you've finished amusing us all.
[Hilary is
headbutting the hammer on the table]
Hilary
Kiss my arse.
Killian
[gasping] I beg your pardon?
Mary
It's disgusting. He won't even remember he said that tomorrow.
Killian
In that case, he won't remember this either. [he goes to Hilary and bites his forearm]
Hilary
[singing with his arm in Killian's mouth] You can't put your muck in my dustbin, my dustbin, my dustbin, you can't put your muck in my dustbin, my dustbin's full.
Killian
[indignant] Good night.
Mary
Good night. [they both go to their respective bedrooms]
Hilary
There's round ones and square ones and round ones and square ones, and you can't put your muck in my dustbin, my dustbin's full.
[The song concludes
with a chorus joining in - the end]
End Credits. The Forgotten Birthday.
[Hilary is in
chambers, formulating his decision on a case. Everyone is chattering excitedly,
passing around streamers, and Party Poppers. The door opens.]
Recorder
Quiet! He's coming!
[General shushing
from the gallery and docks]
Hilary
[grimly, but expectantly] Before I deliver my judgment in this most heinous case, is there anything anyone'd like to say?
[giggles from the
gallery, quickly silenced by authority figures]
Hilary
So, nothing at all then. Nobody's going to say anything. Maybe the accused may have something he'd like to share? Some special occasion?
Defendant
[suppressing a grin] No. Sorry.
Hilary
So, on this, the 25th July.... [expectant pause to no avail] it is my grim task to sentence you, Filthy Harry Tarbuck, to death, for a crime you didn't commit. Hardly fair, I know, but then life's a bitch.
[the recorder lets out an excited whoop, the checks herself. The defendant burps]
Hilary
[pointing at the Recorder] You - contain yourself. [at the Defendant] And you don't be so disgusting. I'll have the pair of you up a flagpole and in contempt. [he rubs his chin anxiously]
Recorder
Is something wrong, Judge Winters?
Hilary
No, Julie, nothing is wrong. You just do your job and write me down with that daft typewriter. So, then, your sentence. You're guilty, and you'll taste the rope. [he beats his gavel] Get out of my court, all of you.
[everyone stays,
smiling]
Hilary
Are you listening? Get out! You're all shits and I hate you.
[likewise, they sit
there]
Hilary
Officer Gump, arrest them all and take them to swing, like... the pundulum that they are.
Gump
No can do, sir.
Hilary
Even you defy me! Et tu!
Gump
I've had a last request from the defendant.
Hilary
What a revolting tradition. I say we just kill him now. Plug him into the lethal injection.
[The defendant
tosses up a microscope, and catches it, winking. He sings]
Defendant
Happy Birthday.... tooo.... youuuuuooo.....
All
Happy Birthday.... tooo.... youuuuuooo.....
Recorder
[incredibly extended and sexual Tina Turner voice with tongues and quivering lips - perhaps only hte one tongue though. No, what the hell, let's have 40 tongues. Great!]
Happy Birthday, Hilary Winters,
All
Happy Birthday.... tooo.... youuuuuooo.....
[party poppers,
cakes, and streamers]
Hilary
Dooh! You knew all along!
Defendant
How could we forget? You've been dropping hints since my trial started.
Hilary
I have not.
Gump
[to the gallery] He has, you know.
Hilary
[good humoured] Officer, I heard that, you cheeky young buck. Let's have your presents then. And the most tight-arsed gift gets a week inside.