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