================================== B R I T C O M E D Y D I G E S T ================================== VOL. I APRIL 1995 No. 12 A monthly electronic newsletter on British comedies. ~~~~~~WARNING~~~~~~ APRIL FOOL'S DAY MAY BE GONE BUT IT IS NOT FORGOTTEN HERE AT BRITCOMEDY DIGEST ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What's Inside ============= Goodies Lost Episode Bottom Hospital Bay Area Red Dwarfers Meet Regular Departments: =================== Mailbox Britcomedy News Newsquirks Editorial/Opinion Page Usenet Vox Pop net.comedy [Red Dwarf] Quote-o'-the-Month ETC. Circulation/Back Issues Staff ===== Managing Editor..................Melinda 'Bob' Casino Contributing Editor..............Michelle Street Assistant Editor.................James Kew Copy Editor......................Cynthia Edwards Michelle Casino..................Michelle Casino Contributing writers: Colin Campbell, Melinda Casino, Barry Cronin. HTML logo by Nathan Gasser; HTML conversion by James Kew. Britcomedy Digest (ISSN 1077-6680) Copyright (c) 1995 by Melinda Casino. Reproduction for personal and non-profit use is permitted only if this copyright notice is retained. Any other reproduction is prohibited without permission. MAILBOX ======= Please sign me up to receive BritComedy Digest. I read a several issues last night and found it to be a great mag. I'm a little disappointed not to see any articles on either Rik Mayall's "The New Statesman" or Lynn and Jay's "Yes, Minister/Prime Minister". Chris Gondek - San Antonio, Texas EDITOR'S RESPONSE: Wow, are you a member of the Psychic Friend's Network or what? We've been kicking around the idea of a "theme issue" in May revolving around political satire in British comedy and those two shows top the list of ones we want to cover. Anyone willing to contribute an article on "Yes Minister/Prime Minister" please contact melinda@cathouse.org. We would also like an article on "Spitting Image." Any takers? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This mag is really good. I think the real reason that British shows of any kind do well over your side of the pond is that we have a much richer culture over here. You seem to have fast food, guns and movies - that's all. William Purry, UK EDITOR'S RESPONSE: Hey, hey, hey, Bill. (Or can I call you Billy?) Let's not forget America also has Zima clear malt liquor and Spam light. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Darling Fascist Bullyboy Editor, I've just started receiving "Britcomedy Digest" and all I have to say is "Right on!" However, your mag would be much improved if you included some photos of *me.* After all, I am gorgeous, I am sex, and BD readers are willing to pay. Rick, 15 Credibility Street EDITOR'S RESPONSE: Willing to pay, huh? Then send all monetary contributions in large denominations to Michelle Street c/o Britcomedy Digest, 16 Credibility Street. I'll make sure the others get their share. Honest. SPECIAL GUEST EDITORIAL RESPONSE FROM A GUY DOWN THE PUB: Did someone say photos? Candid photos? Swimming costume? Could be taken on holiday? Grin, grin, wink, wink, nudge, nudge... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If *you* would like to say more (or tell us to say *no* more), then send a letter to __________________________________________________________________________ EDITORIAL/OPINION PAGE "Red Quasars and Their Effects On Super Novas" by Arnold J. Rimmer, Second Technician Known to many as a snide brown-nosing incompetent git, Arnold J. Rimmer is nevertheless Second Technician for the Jupiter Mining Corporation and one of Britcomedy Digest's finest hologrammatic contributing writers (not to give McIntyre short shrift or anything...). In this issue, "Arnie" discusses red quasars and their importance in astro-navigation. [Editor's note: While Mr. Rimmer had initially agreed a month ago to write an essay for Britcomedy Digest, we haven't received correspondence from him since. The following was found one morning in our office slipped under the door in a large manila envelope.] I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. I AM A FISH. FISH. [signed in scrawled letters: A.J. Rimmer] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA "RED DWARF" FANS MEET (by Maddie Burgess and John Reichel) Twelve San Francisco Bay Area Red Dwarf fans gathered together on Sunday, March 26th for a feast of vindalu and other Indian delicacies at the Shilpa restaurant in Berkeley, California. Although Lister's beloved pizza with curry sauce wasn't on the menu, the group -- who call themselves BAD (Bay Area Dwarfers) -- thoroughly enjoyed their meal and the opportunity to socialize with other Red Dwarf fans who they'd "virtually met" through the Internet mail list or news group. Several fans wore their Red Dwarf T-shirts and jackets. One was fashionably dressed as "Cat", complete with cat "fangs." Luckily, fish *was* on the menu! Most everyone wore a silvery "H" on their forehead in honor of the group's favorite smeghead hologram, Arnold Rimmer. Characteristic of the Berkeley locale, the group scarcely received a second glance for any of this! Two Dwarfers from England provided firsthand accounts of the extent of Red Dwarf's popularity in its home country, while the Yanks bemoaned the general lack of information for fans on this side of the pond. "The Red Dwarf Quiz Book" provided lively discussions for the detail-obsessed members of the party. By dinner's end, debate- and curry-induced sweat had loosened the metallic "H's" from almost every forehead. The intrepid Dwarfers then adjourned to a nearby pub -- aptly named "Jupiter" -- to play pinball and quaff liberal quantities of cider and Drake's Real Ale. Everything from "Star Trek" to "Black Adder" to "Melrose Place" (Melrose Place???) became the subject of critical analysis from a happily warped Dwarfer perspective. The evening was topped off with a hardy rendition of the Red Dwarf theme song, no doubt much appreciated by the rest of the Jupiter clientele. Smeg, indeed!-- It was agreed that everyone had a great time! Any "Red Dwarf" fans who would like to participate in B.A.D. activities can send email to Madelaine Burgess at ADSMLB@ncal.kaiperm.org. Please give us your Internet address, full name, and the city you live in. A telephone number and snail-mail address would also be helpful, but is optional. *BRITCOMEDY DIGEST WORLD EXCLUSIVE* "The Goodies" (formerly) lost footage ====================================== Recently, the BBC was archiving its video library when lost Goodies footage was discovered. These were scenes from the "Big Bunny" (a.k.a. "Creatures from the Moon") episode which, apparently, didn't make the final cut. We at Britcomedy Digest are proud to be the first publication to bring these transcripts to the attention of Britcom-loving netizens. Enjoy! And remember, don't trust Big Bunny. CAST: ===== Tim Brooke-Taylor.................Tim Brooke-Taylor Graeme Greene.....................Graeme Garden Bill Oddie........................Bill Oddie (First scene: Outside shot of a shack on the moon. Inside shot: many rabbits sitting around, nibbling on carrots. Bill Oddie is looking funky in a purple leisure suit that fits snugly; Tim Brooke-Taylor is wearing a cheesy-looking rabbit costume and buck teeth. He hovers over a small rabbit sitting on a tall pedestal.) BILL: (yelling in an incredibly annoying screechy voice) Tim, if you don't stop staring at that rabbit, I'm warnin' ya, I'll belt ya one! (wiggles around gesturing with his fist) TIM: (stroking rabbit) I can't help it. You see, life was meaningless until we landed on this moon and I met (lovingly) Bum-fluff. BILL: Listen! Y' gone off the deep end! Ya can't sit around mooning all day ya know! (pause) Way-hey, "mooning," get it? Ha! Get it? TIM: Look, I'm staying. I'm establishing a British colony--(shot of puppet rabbits by a gramophone putting on a record; "Land of Hope and Glory" begins) That's right; Bum-fluff and I are claiming the moon for Britain--not to have our names go down in history-- BILL: I should hope not, with a name like 'Bum-fluff'-- TIM: --not for the glory, no, not even for the dune buggy races held on Thursdays in the craters...I'm staying -- for England! (shot of puppet-bunnies waving miniature UK flags) BUNNIES: (in high-pitched voices) Yaaaayyy! BILL: You're bleedin' barmy! Dij-didnjt--(indecipherable) dij' ya know you'll be serving Big Bunny? TIM: Big Bunny is just the kind of leader we need to make Britain great again...he's better organized, better experienced, and shows more leadership skills than Britain's top political leaders. Plus he's a whole heck of a lot cuddlier... (BILL runs over to the gramophone, grabs the record and breaks it over Tim's head) BILL: Enough of this tat. We've got to go back to Graeme! TIM: (stunned) Why? BILL: Because we're not THE GOODIES if there's just two of us! There's a clause in our BBC contract that says one of us can't work without the other two. TIM: I always wondered about that... BILL: Besides, all me clothing has "The Goodies" written on it, can't just throw that lot away. And there's nothing to nosh on here on the moon EXCEPT THESE BLEEDING CARROTS! (throws carrot away) TIM: (petulant child-like voice) Well I'm not going. This is where Bum-fluff and I plan to raise our litter, (aside to Bum-fluff) don't we darling? (firmly) So you'll just have to go alone. BILL: (Bill gets out a black pudding sausage-type thing. [see "Ecky-thump" episode]) Do you remember what this is? TIM: I'm coming. BILL: Good. TIM: But Bum-fluff must come too.. BILL: All right, all right...(there is a general talking over each other's lines.) (That is all that the BBC has salvaged of this scene...Thank God.) ------- (Second scene: Bill and Tim are back on earth, running around a grassy knoll to the snazzy "Run, run, run away--I'm runnin'" song. The cage hanging from the tree prop is used again. Bum-fluff is safely tucked in Tim's space-helmet on top of his head, which, for some reason, he continues to wear. This segment lasts for just a few brief seconds until the tape suddenly cuts off to the next big scene.) Third scene: In the Goodies' "office." All the Goodies are present; Tim is still serving Big Bunny. Bobbies are milling around. Some unknown chaos has apparently just ended.) BILL: All right, all right--push off. (ushers a group of bobbies out the door with a shepherd's staff. Bum-fluff assists by racing around on the floor, acting as a shepherd's dog). GRAEME: Well, that was a close one... BILL: I _knew_ this would come in handy someday! (puts staff in closet) TIM: (picking up B.F.) Good job, my little pumpkin... BILL: Eh--what are we gonna do about him, eh? GRAEME: There's one way to find out. (goes over to his computer) Come on, Bessie, don't fail me now...(punches in numbers, adjusted settings. Computer whirrs and spits out some paper tape. G. looks at it) All my scientific data confirms that he's still under the influence of Big Bunny; however, this has caused a noticeable improvement in his personality. BILL: You call thinkin' you're a rabbit a noticeable improvement?! GRAEME: Well, he _is_ in love. That's made him happier and, let's face it, they make a cute couple, don't they? But Big Bunny has all the power. (shakes head) It's just not right. BILL: Yeah--and all that luver's talk 'es puttin' on is makin' me vomit! (looks over at Tim again) TIM: ...sweetie-peetie-poopsy-whoppsie... BILL: Look out! 'ere I go again! GRAEME: Wait! (presses a button on the wall; it flips over and presents a modern mini-vomatorium, complete with aqua-pik and high-powered hose.) There you are. TIM: Well, we're off now! G & B: WHAT?!? TIM: Well, now that Bum-fluff has domesticated me. No more care-free bachelor days for me! We're settling down and raise a littler. (some build-up about a location) BILL: What, are you off to Bognor? (general discouragement by G & B) TIM: You can't expect Bum-fluff and I to share this...this (with disdain) bachelor pad with you two. I mean, just look around--look, look at that beanbag, and your computer, and--is it me or is that giant "G" on the door starting to look a bit goofy? GRAEME: Oh, that'd be because its been twenty years since this was recorded. A bit dated, you know... (TIM goes over to his "royal" desk and chair and starts to pack his things. This includes the "royal" telephone, the picture of Queen Elizabeth on a motorcycle, and the Prince Charles triptych.) (B puts his arm around G and starts to whisper conspiratorially) GRAEME: Eeewww! You're standing _entirely_ too close to me. (B. backs off) And quit saying "Sssss-ssssss." I can't tell what you're saying. Now, this is serious. Do you know what this means? BILL: Yeah. It means we haven't got a proper pecking order anymore! It'll be just you an' me... GRAEME: No, no. It means we'll be two pathetic middle-aged bachelors sharing a flat...too close to a Neil Simon play if you know what I mean. ("Odd Couple" theme starts playing.) This is about camaraderie, friendship, loyalty....and besides Tim's the only one who knows how to type. BILL: Aye, and 'e does the washing up...but what can we do? I'm panickin'! GRAEME: Don't panic! I have--(turns towards his computer)--a solution...(turns around with hypodermic needle). This mixture of carrot extract in an alcohol solution will solve all our domestic cleanliness problems. BILL: HEY! Wait a minute--'e's a flippin' rabbit! 'e LIKES carrots--how's that gonna cure 'im? GRAEME: It probably won't...but it seems just about as rational as anything else we do. BILL: (slap-happy grin) Way-hey! Right you are! (G and B sneak up on T, apply alcohol to sterilize his "bunny" ear, and G. jabs the needle in. Tim is blissfully unaware while he's tending to his mate--ahem, rabbit.) TIM: ...Ah, wha...what am I doing drooling all over a bunny? BILL: ITS WORKED! GRAEME: Knew it would. BILL: (jumping up and down like a little kid) I got this great guitar riff to play at this part! (Tape ends) *Note: This is not written by the Goodies; April Fool's and all that rot. USENET VOX POP (Editor's note: It is not very often that we are fortunate enough to meet people we idolize. In the following, Paul Rodenhuis describes what happened when he was able to meet one of his heroes, the legendary ex-Goon Spike Milligan.) On Tuesday April 4th, I was in the audience of about 350 people at a book reading by Spike Milligan. It was arranged by the local book shop, and was advertised in the local press last week. I rang on Monday for a ticket was told the place was full. I rang again yesterday and was told that if I was alone, and prepared to stand at the back, it would be OK. I arrived just before 8 p.m., and most seats were filled. There were some in the back row so I took one. The event took place in a shopping centre; Woolworth's supermarket, book shop, coffee shop side by side. They had removed the tables from the coffee shop and filled it with chairs. The book shop had a wide selection of Spike's books on display including the latest, 'Lady Chatterley's Lover according to Spike Milligan.' Spike arrived with his wife Sheila and a few others. They were met by the book shop proprietor and presumably publishers reps. The local paper had a photographer present to record the moment: (not too many world-renowned celebrities in Gordon, on the North side of Sydney). As Spike was talking, the photographer lined up for a shot; Spike held his hand up. She took the shot anyway, and went over (or was called over) to Spike. He reprimanded her with 'You should have asked me first.' Spike is 80 I think. He looked quite well, but a little doddery on his feet, i.e. shuffled a little. He wore casual clothes. He was introduced to the crowd by the book shop prop with the words "...and the publisher said 'How would you like Spike?' and I replied, 'Anyway you can get him here.'" Then followed a great disappointment for the people including me up the back; the PA was not very loud (OK when the proprietor spoke), but Spike spoke in a very soft voice and not close to the mike. We strained to catch a word here or there. The proprietor moved the mike closer to his mouth, but to little effect; most of the pearls were lost. He first read some of his poems, then read from a book. All the while we strained to hear him against the Muzak (TM) and beep-beep-beeps of the scanners in the supermarket. After about half an hour or so he finished and asked for any questions. One was 'how did he get the name Spike?' The reply (or what I could catch of it) was that it is a standard nickname for Milligan (his father was Spike too), much in the way that Taffy is a nickname for Jones, or Chalky for White. He then added 'What a boring question!' Another question was 'What was the first thing he wrote?' He recited a limerick which he wrote in the war, something about Bedser, finishing up dead, Sir. When asked how old he was at the time, he said '23, but why do you ask? I could make it 24 if you like! Any more boring questions?' I can't remember if there were any more. After that was the book signing. The table was set up near the back row, so at least we gained something from our position. I bought the LCatSM and brought along my 34-year-old "Dustbin of Milligan" (13/3 in 1961), as well as the five LP Goon Show set. I was about 8th in line and it must have been about 15 minutes before I was in his presence. While waiting for this moment in my life's history, I had been chatting to (not up) the lady photographer about the reprimand she had received. I then asked if she would take my picture with him. This was done, while I chatted with him, scintillating stuff like, 'I bought this more than 30 years ago', 'how long will you be out here this time?' (till 17th April), etc., etc. Then I asked him, 'Have you heard of the Information Superhighway?' He obviously hadn't, and I tried to explain about a worldwide network of computers which people use to exchange information, how there is a newsgroup for the Goon Shows, etc. He didn't understand, thinking I was talking about Ham Radio, and made comments about sitting up in a room asking someone in China how the weather is. (I'm a Ham and have in fact done this). He wrote with a felt tip marker, quite slowly and carefully. After doing the two books, I said 'Can I be a complete groveling bastard and ask you to sign the record set too?' 'Yes, all right', he said, 'where will I sign it?' There was a white patch on the right front side which I pointed to, but he said 'I write pretty big, there isn't enough room', so we turned it over. There are the photos of him, Peter Sellers and Harry Secombe. He signed over his photo. At this stage, there must have been 50 or more people waiting; at the rate he was going, he would have been there a long time, or they would have had to leave without a signature. So, I achieved what I wanted, to see the man and get his mark on my books. It would have been a bonus to have actually heard him read some of his work. ________________________________________________________________ *YET ANOTHER BRITCOMEDY DIGEST WORLD EXCLUSIVE* "Bottom Hospital" ----------------- A script by Colin Campbell or . (c) Colin Campbell 1994 Based on the characters and situations created by Adrian Edmondson and Rik Mayall (c) 1991 - 1994 This script can be included, unedited, in on or off-line non-commercial or amateur magazines and can be enacted publicly by non-commercial theater groups without author's restriction. Current BBC/Edmondson/Mayall restrictions upon "Bottom" performances apply - check beforehand. The author cannot be held responsible for anything. Commercial use of this script is currently prohibited. SCENE 1: The living room. Richie is sitting in front of the telly and is engrossed in a DIY programme. Eddie is sitting at the kitchen table on his own, looking rather glum. A stolen shopping trolley sits where the hat stand used to be. A number of grotty coats are stuffed in the trolley. TV: ..and it is vitally important to get the right depth of hole in the wall if you are to successfully attach the type B bracket.. Richie: Right depth of hole. Of course, yes. Did you hear the man, Eddie? We've got to get our holes the right depth. (Eddie sighs) Look, Eddie, come on and snap out of it. Things could be much worse, you know. Eddie: Oh bugger off. Richie: (patronising) I know what it's like, you know. We've all gone through the same thing. I feel for you, Eddie. Eddie: Piss off. Richie: Charming attitude you've got there, Edward. You really know how to be nice to people, don't you? Eddie: Look, just sod off, will you! Richie: Well, if that's your attitude then you can sit there on your own and be miserable all day. Eddie: Good. Richie: And you're making me miss this DIY programme. (Richie watches the telly for about 15 seconds) TV: ..pay particular attention to the connection of the leveled panel to the front edge of the.. Richie: Look, Eddie. Come on. Don't be like that. I didn't mean it, you know... Eddie: (jumping up) Oh yes, of course you didn't mean it! Yeah, you were just walking along the road when you saw me and Ruth together and you just accidentally had to come running up to me and shout, what was it again? Oh yes. (fake Richie voice) "Eddie the doctor rang up and said you had VD!" Richie: You don't understand my problem, Eddie. Eddie: Your problem?? What about my problem?! I lost the only girl I ever cared about! And it's all your fault! Richie: You've had loads of women, Eddie. Eddie: But she was so... Richie: ..easy to lay? Eddie: No. Richie: Because if she was then you should've told me about it. Eddie: Shut up. What do you know about it anyway? You're still a v-i-r-g-i-n! Richie: I am not! Eddie: You are! Richie: I am not! Eddie: Okay then, name all the women you've slept with? Richie: (Worried) No, I don't have to. Eddie: Name one woman you've slept with, then. Richie: No. Eddie: See! You only had one girlfriend and you never even got a shag from her! Richie: That's cos you shagged her! Eddie: Well, women are attracted to a hunk like me.. Just like Ruth was and you had to go and ruin it for me, you bastard! Richie: She was just some tarty bint, Eddie. Eddie: Right! That does it!! (Eddie goes over to the table and grab hold of one leg and starts pulling at it) Richie: That's it, Eddie, do some DIY to take your mind off her. (a snapping sound signifies the leg coming off. Eddie brandishes it viciously) Eddie: I'll just do a bit of DIY on your head! Richie: No, Eddie! You mustn't! Eddie: Richie, I must! (Eddie chases Richie around the flat. Lots of stuff gets smashed - including the TV when Richie tips it into Eddie's path. Richie ends up by climbing on the table and falling off when it collapses due to a missing leg.) (Close up of Richie's face as Eddie's shadow looms menacing) Richie: (really terrified) Oh Eddie, don't do it. Please! No! No, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. Look, here's some money (Richie fumbles for wallet and takes out some notes) Take it, take my money. Eddie: (Thoughtfully) Hmmm. Richie: (Slyly) Go on, just my way of saying sorry. Take this (looks at notes and chooses smallest one) er, fiver. Eddie: I'll take the lot, if you don't mind. Richie: Come on, old pal. Old chum. That's my dole money. Eddie: Was. And it belongs to Eddie now, doesn't it? (shakes table leg very near to Richie's head. Richie looks aghast) Doesn't it?!! Richie: Yes. Eddie: Good. Richie: (Getting up and pushing his hair back) So you forgive my little transgression then, Eddie? (Eddie goes to sit in on the sofa to watch the TV but gets angry when he notices the mashed remains) Eddie: You've busted the telly! Richie: You weren't watching it anyway, were you? It doesn't matter now anyway since we're pals again. (pause) Listen, Eddie, lately I've been thinking.. Eddie: (sarcastically) Woo! Richie: (pauses and glares at Eddie) I was thinking that since we're the best of mates again we ought to do more things together. (Eddie looks horrified) No, you know what I mean. God, Eddie you are so bloody predictable even a blind person could read you like a book. Eddie: What, you can still read then, can you? Richie: Of course I can read! I'm not blind. Eddie: The amount of masturbating you do it's a wonder you aren't blind. Richie: I do not masturbate! Eddie: Well, how come we keep running out of tissues and toilet paper? Richie: (panicking) Er... er! Er. That's cos you've been having so many curries, Eddie. Yeah, that's it. Eddie: I don't remember this. Richie: That's because you are always drunk, remember? Eddie: No. Richie: Well, it proves my point then, doesn't it? Eddie: Don't you get clever with me! Richie: That wouldn't be difficult, would it? Eddie: (waving the table leg) Right, that does it! Richie: Come on then! It's a fight! (assumes his "fighting" stance) (The doorbell rings) Saved by the bell again, Eddie. Better luck next time. (Richie turns away from Eddie to go over to the sink. A bad idea. Eddie hits Richie on the head with the table leg. Richie keels over onto the floor, unconscious) FADE OUT FADE IN SCENE 2: The hallway, just by the front door. Eddie enters, swinging his table leg violently and creeps up to the door. The doorbell rings again. Eddie: Who is it? (No answer. The doorbell rings once more) Right, you're going to get it, you trick or treating bastards! (Eddie pulls open the door revealing two masked men. The fat one is dressed in a pirate's outfit while the small one has a dirty sheet draped over his head) What do you want?! Pirate: All right Eddie? Ghost: (unconvincingly) OoooOO! Eddie: Spudgun? Spudgun: Great disguise, isn't it? Me mum made it. Ghost: I made mine. Eddie: Is that you, Dave, under there? Dave: Where am I? Eddie: Well, come on in boys. Come on in. (He ushers them inside and shuts the door) Sorry about the mess but I couldn't be arsed tidying up. Spudgun: Beating up the trick or treaters again this year, eh? Eddie: Yeah, great stuff. They were loaded with all sorts of sweets and things. And some money too! (Dave falls over) Is he pissed already? Spudgun: Help him up, Eddie. He's not cut any eyeholes in his bedsheet. (Dave groans as they help him up) Dave: It's not a bedsheet. Got any booze in, Eddie? Eddie: We drank it all on Halloween, remember? Dave: But Halloween's today! Eddie: No it's not. It was last week. Spudgun: Was it? Eddie: Yup. (They move into the Lounge..) SCENE 3: The lounge. Richie is lying on the floor. The lads enter: Dave bumps into everything as he can't see under the bedsheet. Dave: So what's all the burning and banging going on outside then? Eddie: It's Bonfire Night! Dave: Is it? Eddie: Yeah. Dave: So it's not some Vikings pillaging and raping London then? Eddie: No. Spudgun: We missed Halloween! Eddie: No, you came round here and we all got pissed, remember? Spudgun: Did we? (thinks) Oh, yeah, I remember now. Yeah. That was where we tied Richie up and tried to chop his head off? Eddie: You've got it. Dave: I don't remember this. Spudgun: You don't even remember your wife's name. Dave: (Falls onto the sofa) I'm married? (Richie groans and starts twitching) Spudgun: (pointing at Richie) What's up with him? Eddie: He attacked this table leg with his head and lost. (Dave gets off the sofa and staggers around bumping into things) Richie: Ooohh! My head! What happened? (He sees the "Ghost" and screams) Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! I've died! I'm in hell! I'm in hell! (looks about) Eddie! What are you doing here?? (thinks) So hell is living with Eddie, this fat pirate and a mental ghost, is it? That doesn't seem very realistic... (the ghost falls over the coffee table and lands on the remains of the telly) Dave: Somebody get this bloody sheet off me! Richie: Eddie, what's going on? Am I dead? Eddie: You aren't dead, Rich. Spudgun: More's the pity. Richie: Hang on! I know that voice! (approaches Spudgun and peers at him) You're Eddie's foul mate Spudgun, aren't you? (Dave bumps into Richie. Richie whirls around and looks contemptuously at the stained bedsheet "ghost") Eurch! And you'll be that filthy bohemian alcoholic! Eddie: Don't talk to my friends like that! Richie: So what's with all the stupid costumes? I mean, Spudgun here is obviously trying to be a pirate, but what is he (pointing at Dave) supposed to be? Are you off to some secret fancy dress party then? Eddie: No. Richie: I don't believe you. It was all a plan to go without me, wasn't it? I want to come along with you. It's been ages since I was last at a party. I wonder what sort of music they'll have. I'm a great dancer (starts to dance embarrassingly) Yeah. Boogie on down, man! Eddie: There isn't a party, Richie. Richie: Yes there is! Yes there is! (prods Spudgun repeatedly) Tell him, Spudgun, tell him there's a party and that we're all going! (Spudgun looks at Eddie for some help. Eddie just shrugs) Spudgun: (resigned) Okay, we're going to a very top secret exclusive party. Richie: I knew it! I knew it! You can't pull the wool over old Richie's eyes. (Eddie and Spudgun look at each other) Well, I'll have to cancel that other party I was going to.. Eddie: What party? Richie: Well, you know. Being such a popular guy, Eddie, I get invited to loads and loads of parties. I was going to one this evening, in fact. Loads of famous people going there as well, and me. Eddie: Richie, the last party you were invited to was when you were 8 and Spudgun's mum sent you a card by mistake. Richie: Rubbish, I go out partying every Friday night! Spudgun: (To Eddie) Yeah, and we've still not got the stains out of the carpet yet. Dave: (getting up of the floor) Did somebody mention a party? Spudgun: (whispering to Dave) There isn't a party. Dave: What? Richie: I'll just phone up the lads and say I can't come. (Eddie makes a face) (Richie stomps off over to the phone, pushing Dave out of the way. Dave ends up on the broken remains of the telly again) (Richie picks up the phone and dials a seemingly-random number. He starts speaking before it's answered) Hello? Hi there, it's Richie Rich here. Put me through to Ken Brannagh immediately. (The phone is answered now, and some old lady speaks..) Phone: Hello? Richie: Hi Ken, It's Richie here. Phone: Eh? Who's Ken? There's no Ken here. Richie: Yeah, saw you at the Oscars the other day, mate. You looked great. Phone: Eh? Richie: Look, mate. I can't make the party tonight.. Phone: What party? You've got the wrong number... Richie: So you'll have to tell your lovely wife Emma that I won't be there. Tell her I'll give her a good shagging next week! Phone: This must be a crossed line or something. Richie: Yeah, ha-ha-ha-ha, that's a good one. I'll tell Tony Hopkins that when I see him next week. Phone: Are you mad? Go away! Or I'll phone the police.. (The phone is hung up. A loud dialing tone can be heard) Richie: Yeah, I'll catch you later. What? Oh yeah, I'll tell Eddie that you like me much more than him. Okay then. Chow! (Richie puts the phone down. Camera zooms out slightly to see Eddie, Spudgun and Dave right next to Richie. They've been listening all along..) (worried) Yes? Eddie: Nothing. Ken will be missing you tonight, won't he lads? Dave & Spudgun: Yeah. Richie: What's wrong with you? I know you are jealous of my wide circle of friends. (Embarrassed pause) Anyway, where are we going then? Eddie: Well, there's that municipal fireworks display in Ravenscourt Park we could go to.. Richie: Yeah, excellent idea. Sitting by the open fire, toasting marshmallows, singing campfire songs... Eddie: ..except that you got banned from there last year, remember? Richie: That big ugly park keeper has got it in for me, you know. It's terrible, he really ought to respect the upper class people like me more. It's not like I was doing anything wrong, was it? Eddie: But you set fire to the swans! Richie: I hardly call that prankish schoolboy jest a banning offense, do you? Eddie: No, but the judge did. Richie: Judges are all stupid anyway. Dave: I was in court once. Richie: Yeah, and we can all guess what for. You filthy pervert! You should be hanged! Dave: No, I was a witness. (Eddie and Spudgun start laughing) Richie: You despicable bastard! Imagine grassing on your mates! I hope you are ashamed of yourself! Dave: The judge said I was, er, wossname. Er. (Richie looks bewildered) Eddie: (To Richie) What Dave means is that he saw some idiot filling the pond with petrol and throwing in a lit match. (Richie becomes mad faced) Richie: You bastard! You bastard! You grassed me up!!! Eddie: Well, it looks like you'll have to stay home. Don't worry, Rich, I'll bring you a couple of sparklers back. (Eddie, Spudgun and Dave turn to go but Richie leaps out and blocks the door) Get out of the way, Richie! Richie: No, you're not going without me! Eddie: Yes we are. Spudgun, if you'd be so kind as to do the honours..? Spudgun: Be my pleasure, mate. (Spudgun grabs Richie and squeezes him. Richie wriggles and screams. Eddie bops Richie on the head and they throw him into the shopping trolley) Richie: You filthy back-stabbing Judases! (Moves some coats about.. Gets an idea) No. Listen, Eddie. Listen. I've got a great idea how I can come along with you. It's great! Listen. You've all got fancy dress on, right? So, if I wear a costume then they won't know it's me, will they? Fiendish! (The lads look resigned to their fate) And, I've got the perfect disguise as well. (Richie looks expectantly at Eddie. Eddie is confused) You are supposed to ask me what my perfect disguise is! Eddie: But we know what your disguise is. Richie: You do? Eddie: A big fat ugly girlie virgin tosser. Richie: (laughs) Oh, ha-ha. No, Eddie. I'm going as a Guy. Eddie: (to Spudgun) I always said he was a big girl's blouse, didn't I? Richie: God, you really really are stupid, aren't you? I'm going as Guy Fawkes of course. As in "A penny for the Guy"? And the best thing is that I'll make some money out of it! Eddie: (interested) Money? Richie: Yeah, I'll sit in this trolley, and you can ask people for money. Eddie: (slyly) Hmmmm. Richie: It's a great plan. Nothing can go wrong! Eddie: Okay dokey, matey. You sit in the trolley and we'll push you about and get paid money. (Eddie wheels the trolley and Richie out of the lounge...) SCENE 4: The hallway, just by the front door. Eddie enters, pushing the trolley containing the jibbering Richie. Spudgun and the now de-bedsheeted Dave Hedgehog enter behind. Richie: ..and I wonder how much I'll make. It's bound to be at least twenty quid. Maybe even more. (Eddie stops at the top of the stairs. Richie is facing Eddie so doesn't see the stairs) .I might share the money with you, Eddie. But, obviously, since I came up with the fantastic idea in the first place I'll get, say, #19.50 and you can have the 50p. Hang on, you owe me a couple of quid anyway, don't you? So that means you'll owe me... (With a shove, Eddie pushes the trolley forwards over the top of the stairs. A camera view of Richie, screaming as the trolley thunders down the stairs..) Eddie: Oops. (A loud crashing noise, followed by a splat) Well, that's him taken care of. Right, fancy a drink lads? Spudgun: Not half! FADE OUT FADE IN SCENE 5: The living room. The lads are all slumped in front of the broken telly. Pizza boxes lie scattered on the floor. Many empty cans of lager and bitter can be seen. (The doorbell rings. Nobody stirs. The doorbell rings again and somebody thumps on the door) Voice: Open up! It's the police!! (Eddie awakens with a start. Thinks he must have dreamt it and relaxes again) Open up! It's the police!! (Eddie starts panicking. He kicks awake Spudgun and Dave) Eddie: Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, Spudgun! (shakes Spudgun awake) Dave, wake up! Come on, wake up! Dave: What's the matter? Eddie It's the filth! Dave: Sorry, Eddie. I couldn't help myself.. Eddie: No, it's the pigs! Dave: What pigs? Voice: I can hear you in there! Open this door! Eddie: (shouting) Okay! (Spudgun and Hedgehog grimace at their hangover and moan) I'm coming. SCENE 6: The hallway, just by the front door. Eddie enters, and opens the door. Two savage-looking police officers shoulder their way in. Eddie: This is police harassment! Cop 1: Shut up now, Sir. We're looking for a Mr Edward Hitler. (Eddie cringes) Ah, Mr Hitler. Eddie: Who? Never heard of him.. Cop 1: Don't waste our time, Mr Hitler. We've got some bad news for you. Eddie: (worried) Er. Oh? Cop 1: Yes, your friend Richard has been taken to hospital.. Eddie: (relieved) Phew, for a minute there I thought you were going to give me some bad news. (fake laugh) Ha-ha! Cop 2: He's been badly injured, Sir. He was found badly concussed and inserted halfway through a wall... Eddie: I'm always telling him to be careful when decorating... Cop 1: .. and we're here to ask you a few questions.. Eddie: (panicking) What? Oh no! Poor old Richie. I must go and see him immediately. This is truly terrible... Cop 1: You're not fooling us for one moment, Sir. Eddie: You'd keep me away from my best pal in the whole world when he needs me most? You heartless... Cop 2: Very well, Sir. You can go and see him now. But we'll be back in the morning to question you, Sir. (A loud clattering and moaning comes from the lounge as the lads fall off the sofa) Ah, got some accomplices to hide, have we, Sir? (The policeman pushes past Eddie and move off into the lounge. Eddie panics again and runs down the stairs, shoving the younger policeman out of the way) SCENE 7: The hospital casualty department. Lots of dreary cubicles are curtained off, while nurses scuttle busily about. No doctor can be seen. A sign on the wall says "Access & Visa accepted" - a sign of the NHS reforms. (Bad pun) (Eddie enters. He is carrying a large brown paper bag containing something. He looks around to see Richie. This proves fruitless. He decides to peep into the cubicles but before he can look into the first one there is a commotion from a cubical in the corner. The curtain bulges as a figure presses against it from the inside. A scream followed by a clang and a moan. The curtain is pulled open violently and an angry/horrified nurse rushes out and almost knocks Eddie over) Nurse: (muttering) Bastard! Bastard! Filthy, ugly... (Eddie goes over to the cubical and looks inside. Richie lies upon a [medical] trolley and looks a bit beaten up. His face is bruised quite badly but he's okay apart from that.) Eddie: Hello Richie! Richie: Eddie! What are you doing here? Eddie: I thought I'd come in and see how you are. Here's some grapes. (Eddie thrusts the paper bag into Richie's hands) Richie: Thanks, old buddy. (Looks in the bag) It's empty! Eddie: No it's not. Richie: Yes it is! Eddie: No it's not! Richie: (pulling out the grape "stalk") Well, I'm not eating this. (Throws stuff on the floor) Eddie: Well, I was hungry, wasn't I? (Pause) So, how are you? Richie: (acting) Oooohh. I'm in a bad way. I don't know if I'll last the night, Eddie. Ooooh. Eddie: (nudging Richie) Some nice nurses around here, eh... Richie: Yeah, they'd all shag me if I wasn't in such a bad way. Eddie: Oh? So, what happened with that nurse? Richie: We had a difference of medical opinion. I asked her for another bed-bath and she said no. Eddie: How many bed-baths have you had anyway? Richie: Four. Eddie: Oh. Richie: Then I asked her if she's seen the Singing Detective and she twatted me with a kidney dish! (Eddie wanders round to the front of the bed where a medical clipboard is hanging) Eddie: (picking up clipboard) So, what's the matter with you then? Richie: Put that down! It's private! I'm not having you looking at my details. You were the one who put me in here in the first place, you despicable disciple of Satan! Eddie: I'm only looking. And it wasn't me who put you in here. I wouldn't do such a thing... Richie: It was you, Eddie. I saw you push me down the stairs. Eddie: You've had a nasty bump on the head, mate, and I'm not talking about the self-inflicted ones. It not surprising that you don't remember things straight, is it? Richie: I remember everything, mate. Eddie: Go on then.. Richie: Don't believe me, huh? Well, you, Spudgun and that other little idiot were off to a fancy dress party and you didn't want me to come along so instead of saying "Richie, we'd like to go on our own since you are so obviously our superiors and have lots of other parties to go to" you attempt to kill me! Charming! Eddie: But Rich, that was 6 months ago! Richie: (pre-panic) What? Eddie: It was 6 months ago. Richie: (really panicking) What? Eddie: You've been in a coma for 6 months. I came in every day to bring you grapes and read you stories hoping you'd come round and you have! Richie: (nervously) Ha-ha-ha. You can't fool me. Ha-ha-ha. Eddie: Would I lie to you, old mate? Richie: Yes. Eddie: Well, normally I would, that's true but this is different. Richie: Oh. (The curtains are drawn back and another nurse enters, carrying a bedpan) Nurse: Here's that bedpan you wanted. (Nurse approaches Richie and undoes his pajama bottoms. Richie goes red. Eddie giggles) Richie: Not now! Nurse: Pardon? Richie: Shoo, go away. I'm talking to my friend here. Come back later. Nurse: I'm not a bloody waitress. I'll stand here and wait if I have to. Richie: (looks heavenward) Tsk. What has become of the glorious National Health Service? You're all a bunch of money-grabbing zealots now, d'you know that? This is what I pay my taxes for, is it? To be treated like some commoner? (shouts) I've been in a coma for 6 months, and this is what I wake up to, is it??!! (Nurse looks questioningly at Eddie. Eddie shrugs) Eddie: (to Nurse) He's always like this. Nurse: (To Richie) Are you going to use this bedpan on your own or shall I call the porters again? Richie: But I can't use it just now! Nurse: Why? Richie: (embarrassed) Well, I'm, er, um, indisposed. Eddie: (loudly, so that other patients hear) What he means is that he's got a stiffie. Richie: (horrified) Eddie! Eddie: (to nurse) Mind you, it's so terribly small you probably wouldn't notice it.. Richie: (to Eddie) You bastard! Nurse: (to Richie) Don't worry, Mr Richard. I've seen it all before.. Richie: You what? You've been feeling me up when I was in the coma? My god! You're all sex mad... Eddie: (taking clipboard and leaving cubicle) I'll just get a cup of coffee. SCENE 8: Outside Richie's cubical in the casualty department. Eddie stands close by so that he can still hear what's going on inside. (Richie can still be heard gibbering away to the nurse) Richie: ..I bet you and your friends are all lesbians as well. Yes. You are, I can tell. You're.. Nurse: Shut up! Shut up! You're insane, Mr Richard. Richie: I'm insane?? At least I don't sexually assault comatose patients in a lesbian orgy romp! Nurse: (shouting) Doctor! I need some help in here! (Shouting and sounds of a struggle. Eddie takes this opportunity to get out a pen and scribble some things on the clipboard. A doctor appears and makes for the cubicle. Eddie hands him the clipboard) Eddie: (to Doctor) Here, you'll need this. Doctor: Stand back, please. (The doctor enters the cubicle and a vicious struggle begins. Eventually, the commotion dies down and the doctor re-emerges. He's covered is sweat and a bruise is developing above his left eye) Are you a friend of his? Eddie: No. He's my flat mate. Oh, by the way doctor... Doctor: Yes? Eddie: Is he going do die? He's an organ donor, you know. In fact, he was only telling me yesterday that he'd donate all his organs straight away - you don't even have to wait 'til he's snuffed it. So, I'll hold the bucket while you start cutting, okay? (The nurse emerges from the cubicle, her uniform all ripped. She glares at Eddie and leaves) Doctor: (ignoring Eddie's attempt at flogging bits of Richie's body..) He's a very dangerous man and quite psychologically deranged. His charts show him to be, well, very abnormal. (Looking at clipboard Eddie defaced) His blood pressure is all over the place. I'll have a word with the psychiatrist Reg and see if we can't admit him. Eddie: Yes! That's great news! (Doctor eyes him suspiciously) I mean, er, this way he'll be cured, won't he? Erm. (pause) Er, will he get electric shock treatment? Doctor: No. Eddie: (sigh) Pity. Doctor: He was shouting about being in a coma for six months. (Eddie looks worried) Do you know why? Eddie: No. Um. Doctor: And he was also saying that a group of lesbian nurses were feeling him up. Eddie: Yes, well. Sounds like a rubber wallpaper case to me. Doctor: Don't talk to him as you could set off another paranoid attack. I'll be back shortly. (Doctor walks off. Eddie waits until doctor is gone and sneaks into the cubicle) SCENE 9: Inside Richie's cubical in the casualty department. Richie has been strapped down to the trolley and his mouth has been taped over to stop him speaking. (Richie looks imploringly at Eddie) Eddie: You've been a bit of a naughty boy, haven't you? Richie: MMmmmmmmmmMMM!! Eddie: Pardon? Richie: (struggling) MMMmmmmMMmmmmmmmm!!! Eddie: I can't hear what you're saying. (Richie attempts to wriggle but can't) Blimey, people'd pay good money to be tied up like that. (Richie goes berserk) Okay okay, calm down. (Richie goes all limp. Pause) Did you see Emmerdale Farm last night? (Notices Richie can't speak. Grabs the tape and pulls it) Richie: (scream, ending up as swearing) AAaarrggg You bastard! You bastard! Eddie: (confused) What've I done? Richie: What've you done?? What've you done!! You've put me in a bloody loony bin, you diseased mongrel leper! When I get out of this you are really really going to pay for this! Eddie: Look, do you want to get out or don't you? Richie: Of course I do! I'm not insane! Eddie: Well, let's come to some arrangement, shall we? Now, let's see. Hmm. Yes, this rent money you've been after.. well I think it's only right that we scrap it. (Richie is angry) In fact, I'm sure that you'll be so grateful that you won't ever charge me rent ever again, will you? (Richie glares at Eddie) Oh, and you'll be so grateful that you'll start paying me rent. Won't you? Richie: You backstabbing underhand little c.. Eddie: Because if not you'll just have to spend the rest of your life wearing pajamas and talking to a dribbling idiot. Richie: I do that already. Look, just get me out of this. (Painfully) Please, Eddie. Go on, please. Please? Pleasepleaseplease? Eddie: Give me your flat. Richie: What? Eddie: Your flat, you'll give it to me, won't you? Richie: (quickly, as if he's got his fingers crossed) Yes, I'll give you my flat. Eddie: Ahaaaaa!! Hahahaaaaaaaa! (cunningly) And pay me rent money? Richie: (struggle) Yes yes. Now just get me out of here, will you! Eddie: Righty bloke dokey matey me old flapper. (Eddie undoes the restraints holding Richie to the trolley. Richie bounces up and starts hitting Eddie. Eddie hits Richie back. Richie falls over. Panting, they glare at each other) What the bloody hell are you doing, you madman? Richie: You bastard! You bastard! You bastard! (goes into his fighting stance) Eddie: So, you want some more, do you? Richie: Yeah! (pause) Oh, Eddie? Eddie: What? Richie: (pointing behind Eddie) Who is that? (Eddie turns round to look at the person, who doesn't exist. Richie takes this opportunity to take a swing at him. He misses. Eddie turns back round again, not noticing that Richie took a swipe at him. Richie looks innocently around) Listen, mate. Let's call it even and get the hell out of here, eh? Eddie: Well..... Okay then. Richie: Right, you turn 'round while I put on some clothes. (Eddie turns around) I don't want you to spy on my enormous todger. I know you're jealous of me anyway. (Richie begins to take off his pajamas. Eddie opens the cubicle's curtains. Richie doesn't notice) (We get a pan round of the casualty department, each cubicle can see Richie in his underwear and everybody is laughing) (Shock) Eddie! You despicable bastard! Eddie: Yup! That's me! (A doctor enters and sees all the commotion. He calls for assistance and, after lots of fighting Richie is restrained and tied back onto the trolley) Doctor: (to Eddie) Now, if you'd like to leave us we've got to give Mr Richard here his enema. (Richie reacts predictably) (Eddie is ushered from the cubicle and the curtains are closed. We are looking at Eddie in front of the curtains. Silhouettes are visible on the curtain) Richie: Enema?? I don't want an enema!! Doctor: According to your chart you are due to have 2 enemas an hour for the next day. Richie: What??!! Eddie, help me! Help!!!! Eddie: Sorry, Rich, but I don't want to get my suit all messed up. Richie: Keep away from me! Oohh! Bloody hell! What're you doin' with that? No! NO! You touch me with that and I'll... Doctor: This won't hurt a bit.. Richie: ARRGRGRGRGRGRGHHHHHHH!!!!! FADE OUT FADE IN SCENE 10: The cubicle (again). Richie is lying on the trolley (unrestrained) and looking in a great deal of pain. Eddie enters. Eddie: So, how are you feeling? Richie: Bloody terrible. How do you think I'd be feeling? Eddie: It doesn't count. Richie: What doesn't? Eddie: You're still a virgin, Rich. Richie: (Glaring at Eddie) You scum. It was all your fault! Eddie: No it wasn't! Richie: Yes it was - according to the doctor they hadn't put me down for any enemas. There's only one person who would've done that. (Glares at Eddie - Eddie gives in) Eddie: It was just a joke, Richie. Richie: Yes, you're a real Party Animal, aren't you? Give all your friends enemas and have a right laugh, yeah. Makes you Mister bloody Popularity, I'll bet! Eddie: Oh, come on, you'd have done the same thing if you had the chance. You're just suffering from some of the anti-insanity drugs they gave you.. (While Eddie is talking, Richie climbs off the trolley and picks up a bucket full of the aftermath of his enema.. A close-up of the bucket, with the contents bubbling or something would be good) .bit of a waste of time really. You're a total breadbasket case, mate. Richie: Eddie? (Eddie turns round and Richie goes to tip the bucket over his head) (Freeze frame just at the moment where the gunk would start falling) (Sound continues though... a "sploshhh" noise followed by Eddie going "Urrgrgh!") FIN Cast Of Characters Richie Rik Mayall Eddie Adrian Edmondson Spudgun Steven O'Donnell Dave Hedgehog Christopher Ryan The Doctor Roger Brierley Cop 1 Jonathan Stratt Nurse 1x Cop 2 Robert McKewley Nurse 2x __________________________________________________________ *NET.COMEDY James Kew, our regular net.comedy columnist, is finishing work on his thesis (or so I hear *snigger*). This month's net.comedy courtesy of . Thank you, mla@dolby.com, known to some as Mark Atherton. Spam Haiku haiku (hi'koo) An unrhymed Japanese lyric poem having a fixed 3-line 17-syllable form. Spam (spam) (undefined in Webster's: possibly undefinable) With that in mind. Pink tender morsel, Glistening with salty gel. What the hell is it? ----------- Ears, snouts and innards, A homogeneous mass. Pass another slice. ----------- Cube of cold pinkness Yellow specks of porcine fat. Give me a spork please. ------------ Old man seeks doctor. "I eat SPAM daily", he says. Angioplasty. ----------- Highly unnatural, The tortured shape of this "food". A small pink coffin. ----------- Watch the pink slab fry Its grease can lubricate eggs Get ketchup ready ----------- Spam on Wonder bread He's allergic to sulfites Hives come after lunch ----------- Pressed, the cold slice soothes Eye, a black-and-blue shiner Spam, what useful stuff Parts of pigs o' plenty. Sumptuous feet and tails, Rub amber gel through hair. You don't want to know, What they put in that tin can, It's scary to think. Drop a pig in a blender, Add salt and dye: The recipe for Spam. Have you ever lost anything? It's in that one little can, Of Spam. In the same manner as we, lick envelopes to seal them, cows lick Spam. Did you ever wonder, Where rats go when they die? Spam knows where they go. QUOTE-O'-THE-MONTH: =================== Note to readers: I will keep quoting Red Dwarf until you email me (melinda@cathouse.org) quotes from other British comedies. A threat? Nay, say I--a treat! :P Rimmer: "I don't want you to panic, Arnold; I want you to stay absolutely calm. I'm coming out in a moment, and I want you to keep your cool. Are you ready? Here I come!" [head emerges from table] "There, that wasn't too bad, was it? Look, we've found a stasis leak on floor 16. I'm dead now, and you're not, but if I save you, you won't die, so I won't die, and you won't be dead either, and neither will I!" ===== ETC. ===== Brenda Sharpe maintains the "RUMPOLE OF THE BAILEY FAQ" for those die-hard fans who subscribe to alt.fan.rumpole. http://www.cs.umbc.edu/~schott/rumpole ftp://src.doc.ic.ac.uk/public/media/tv/collections/tardis/uk/drama/ RumpoleOfTheBailey/RumpoleOfTheBailey-FAQ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Andy Raffle maintains the "CARRY ON FAQ." It's posted monthly to alt.comedy.british, rec.arts.tv.uk, and rec.arts.movies. http://cathouse.org:8000/BritishComedy/CarryOnFilms/FAQ.html - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Jeffrey Rice has created a "ARE YOU BEING SERVED?" Home Page. He needs a fellow fan to produce a .gif of the "Grace Brothers" logo to make it complete. Please email him if you can help. http://humphries.pomona.claremont.edu/comedy.html - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The editor wishes to shamelessly plug "BOOKS FOR THE AVID BRITCOMEDY FAN," posted monthly to alt.comedy.british. Also at: http://cathouse.org/BritishComedy/Info/Booklist.html - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - There's a new P.G. Wodehouse FAQ -- "The Junior Ganymede Club Book," maintained by Susan Collicott . Posted to alt.fan.wodehouse. Also available via anonymous FTP: ftp://ickenham.isu.edu/pub/PGW-/FAQ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Spam, spam, spam, spam -- Tired of reading spams on the net? Take a look at Axel Boldt's "BLACKLIST OF INTERNET ADVERTISERS." The "fan mail" he receives is quite amusing. Posted to news.answers. http://math-www.uni-paderborn.de/~axel/BL/blacklist.html - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CIRCULATION/SUBSCRIPTION INFO.: =============================== Britcomedy Digest (ISSN 1077-6680) is a free electronic newsletter posted monthly to alt.comedy.british and rec.arts.tv.uk. DELPHI: In the "UK-American Connexion" forum, cf171. GENIE: In the "Showbiz" roundtable, page 185. SUBSCRIPTIONS: To receive an issue every month in your emailbox, send your email address to