The Young Ones - Bomb

Written by Ben Elton, Rik Mayall and Lise Mayer.

Additional material by Alexei Sayle

[shot of a plane flying overhead. It drops a large red bomb]

[Opening titles]
[shot of kitchen. the red bomb is in front of the refrigerator. Cut to shot of Mike's room.
He is asleep; next to him is a blow-up doll. Cut to Vyvyan's room.
He is asleep, but he's backwards; his feet are sticking out instead of his head.
Cut to Neil's room. He is asleep, and his alarm clock is going off. Cut to bathroom and a close-up of Rick's face, trying to pop a pimple.
He gives up then stares at the camera]

RICK: [reciting] Pollution! All around! Sometimes [looks up] up! Sometimes [looks down] down! But always [looks around] around!
Pollution, are you coming to my town? Or am I coming to yours? Ha! We're on different buses, pollution! But we're both using petrol!
[turns around. pan out to see that he was looking in a mirror. Rick stares at camera] ...Bombs! [smiles his Rick smile]

[cut to Neil's room. The clock is still ringing. Suddenly, it stops and falls over. Neil wakes up and looks at the clock]

NEIL: Lads? It's two o'clock in the afternoon! Maybe it's time we got up! [puts on his trousers and walks out to the corridor]
Lucky I didn't sleep through the alarm or we'd have missed half the day! [Neil falls through the hole the bomb made to the kitchen.]

NEIL: Thank's for telling me about the new hole, guys! [cut to bathroom. Rick is singing and preparing to put on deodorant]

RICK: You say you want a revolution, we...[stares at roll-on. he walks over to wall adjacent to Vyvyan's bedroom]

VYVYAN! Have you been using my roll on deodorant? There's a revolting hair on it, and it's not one of mine!

VYVYAN: [still in his bed] How do you know?

RICK: Because I know what mine looks like, Vyvyan! I can see them now! [raises arm and points to armpit] [cut to Vyvyan's room]

VYVYAN: [pops his head out of the bed] Not the ones on your bum, you can't! What about your bum? [cut to bathroom]

RICK: Oh, and I suppose you think being rude first thing in the morning is a terribly trendy thing to do, do you Vyvyan? Well, it's not! [cut to Vyvyan's room]

VYVYAN: Look, it's probably a hamster hair! He was getting a bit whiffy so I gave him a good going over!

[cut to SPG in his cage. SPG has the same haircut and studs in his head like Vyvyan]

SPG: And was I consulted, pally? How do you think I feel stinking like a student's armpit? [cut to bathroom]

RICK: It's stealing, Vyvyan! It's common stealing! And if you ever touch it again, EVER, I'm going to the police. I really will! I will go to the police!

[satisfied, Rick walks away and applies the deodorant. Vyvyan punches his hand through the wall and gives Rick a two-fingered salute]

[cut to kitchen. Neil is pointing to the tea pot]

NEIL: Why is it always me that makes the tea? [places the kettle on the stove and goes to plug something in. Suddenly, the kettle explodes] Oh wow!
[walks over and picks up the destroyed kettle] It's as if the kettle's killed itself rather than be used by me!

[cut to corridor. Mike is pounding on the bathroon door]

MIKE: Hey, Rick? Time is money, right? I know 'standing on the landing' may be a great song title, to me it's just a tax loss.
So make space for the face that forced the abortion issue! [Vyvyan exits his room holding his blanket]

VYVYAN: Good morning, Michael!

MIKE: Morning. [Vyvyan shakes his blanket. An enormous amount of flakes fly off]

VYVYAN: It's incredible, isn't it Mike? That although one goes to bed, apparently free of grit, when you get up in the morning, your bed's always full of bits!

MIKE: No time for me to comment Vyv, I can never see my matching undersheet for chicks.

VYVYAN: Yeah! I have the same problem with fleas. You see, without my spectacles, fleas and bits are almost identical. Not that a flea is going to be wearing my spectacles.

MIKE: Oh, nice one, vyv. The act's really coming along!

VYVYAN: Thank's, Mike. [re-enters his room]

MIKE: [pounds on bathroon door again] Listen Rick, If I wanted to stand around in corridors, I would have taken a train, ok?

RICK: [opens door] Look, Mike. Morning.

MIKE: Morning.

RICK: I got a lecture today, and I think my appearance actually is going to be rather important.

MIKE: Rick, it's Saturday!

RICK: Is it?

MIKE: Yeah! The only lecture today is Mike's Biology class. So, make way for the doctor, I gotta scrub up.

RICK: Look, Mike, look, I've got the bathroom rota here... [Mike grabs Rick and takes him out into the corridor]

MIKE: How do you get three elephants into a mini?

RICK: I beg your pardon?

MIKE: You chop them in half. Then you chop them in half again. Then you slice them up very finely. Then you mash them. Then you put them in plastic bags.
You put some in the boot, you put some in the back seat, and what's left over you put on the passenger seat.
[during this speech, Mike has been making his way into the bathroom. When he's finally in, he slams the door on Rick]

RICK: Oh. [cut to kitchen. Neil is comforting the kettle]

NEIL: If you wanted to talk about it, you should have said that you wanted to let off steam! [laughs] Kettle! Let off steam! [pats kettle soothingly] Sorry.

VYVYAN: [enters] Good morning, Neil! Tea ready yet, is it?

NEIL: Shh! The kettle's had a breakdown!

VYVYAN: Oh, no! That means we'll have to have raw tea again! [takes a tea bag and eats it] Neil? Do you want to see a great new trick?

NEIL: Oh yeah, yeah alright Vyv, yeah, yeah.

VYVYAN: All you got to do is stand over here, right.

NEIL: Stand over there.

VYVYAN: Looking this way.

NEIL: Look that way, right.

VYVYAN: No, close your eyes actually.

NEIL: Close your eyes, right. Ok!

VYVYAN: You got them closed?

NEIL: Yeah, ready! [Vyvyan hits Neil with the kettle]

NEIL: Oh, nice one, I get it! [falls down]

VYVYAN: Yeah, my uncle Stan taught that to me the other day!

NEIL: I'd better get the lentils on [gets up and walks over to cupboard].

VYVYAN: I laughed and laughed and laughed!

NEIL: [opens cupboard, but quickly shuts it] I don't think I'm going to be able to make the breakfast without breaking all the plates, Vyv!

VYVYAN: Why's that, Neil?

NEIL: Um, You see, the lentils are trapped behind this huge mound of teetering crockery! What are we going to do?
[fade to stairs behind the kitchen. Neil is tearing up the adjacent wall with a crowbar]

NEIL: ...I hope we get through to the back of the cupboard this time Vyv.
[continues working. Vyvyan looks extremelt bored] Yeah, great, this one's it. Yeah. Right. [Neil sticks hin hand in the hole. Lentils start pouring out everywhere]
Oh no. Get a bowl! [runs into kitchen]

VYVYAN: [not helping at all] Uh, Neil? Neil, the lentils are dripping out all over the stairs!

NEIL: [comes back with wrapped-up bowl] Oh, no. It's full. Uh, Vyv, can you get rid of that semolina? [Neil hands Vyvan the bowl. Vyvyan just tosses it aside]

NEIL: No, it was the bowl I wanted.

VYVYAN: I didn't know.

NEIL: Get a bowl! [takes his shirt and tries to catch the lentils with it]

VYVYAN: Get a bowl. [walks to kitchen]

NEIL: Vyv? Vyv?

VYVYAN: [comes back] Yeah?

NEIL: Really quickly, okay? [takes his hands form his shirt to emphasize and drops all the lentils he caught]
[Vyvyan walks to the cupboard and opens it. The plates fall and smash everywhere. He grabs a bowl and puts it through the hole. Neil takes it. Just at that time, the lentils run out. Neil manages to catch a few]

NEIL: Oh, no. This will never go around! We'll have to have cornflakes!

VYVYAN: [poking his head through the hole] Cornflakes for breakfast! That's disugsting, Neil!

MIKE: [enters kitchen, all dressed up] twenty-seven minutes and thirty two seconds in the bathroom and Mike looks fantastic.
[looks at kitchen] Unlike the kitchen! Neil, what's this mess?

NEIL: Well, it's mostly lentils, but there's some crockery mixed in!

VYVYAN: [at table. Puts a cup in a kettle] Uh, Mike! There's a cup of tea in the pot!

MIKE: [smiles] Oh, yeah! Good one Vyv, yeah! [sits next to Vyvyan and looks at camera] He's only improvising, but Shakespeare could have written a script!

[Vyvyan looks at the camera and laughs]
[cut to the cornflakes box. There is a picture of a family camping. The man and woman are on chairs. A boy and girl are sittng indian-style in front of a tent. The girl is holding a beach ball]

MAN: Funny? I could do better than that!

WOMAN: Oh, so you're an expert on comedy all of a sudden are you?

MAN: Not all of a sudden, I just am!

WOMAN: It seems very strange that an expert on comedy would be advertising tents on the back of a Cornflakes packet.

MAN: Look, I'm gay!

WOMAN: What?

MAN: Tent, camp, gay! Now you have to admit, that was funny!

GIRL: I wish I'd had time for a crap before we started!

BOY: That's all you girls ever think about!

MAN: [lighty smacks girl on head] Would you two shut up and keep smiling! We're supposed to be the ideal nuclear family!

GIRL: Post-nuclear, more like! [the family is suddenly hit by a splash of castup. Cut to kitchen. Vyvyan is pouring catsup in a bowl]

RICK: Caught you, Vyvyan! Using my catsup on your cornflakes!

MIKE: I couldn't get any milk out of the fridge!

RICK: Why? What are you? A spazzy?

VYVYAN: No! There just happens to be an atom bomb in front of the door! [Mike and Neil stare at the bomb in shock. Rick doesn't get it yet]

RICK: That's the most pathetic excuse I've...[Rick gets it] GORDON WALTERS!

MIKE: That's an atom bomb!

NEIL: Oh, no. It's the holocaust!

RICK: [panics] World War Three! Heavy! What are we going to do? Mike?

VYVYAN: [looking at watch] Hey! Turn on the telly!

MIKE: Good thinking, Vyv! We need information! [they run to the sofa]

VYVYAN: No! I'm just in time for Afternoon Plus!
[leaps on couch between Mike and Neil. Rick turns on a the TV. We see a test picture and soft music.]
Well turn it over then! [Rick changes the channel. Test picture and soft music]

VYVYAN: Well, you might as well try the other one!

RICK: Alright! Alright! [Rick changes the channel. Test pictue and soft music. The boys groan, Rick turns off the TV]

RICK: Absolutely pathetic! There's nothing on at all! Humph! Don't know why we bother to pay our license!

MIKE: We don't.

RICK: But, haven't we got a license?

MIKE: No.

RICK: But that makes me a criminal! [thinks about it] Right on! Yeah, this will shake them up at the Anarchists Society! Occupying the refectories!
So what? This is the real stuff! I'm a fugitive! A desperado! I'm going to form a new union society, right?
With me a president! 'People Who Don't Pay Their TV Licenses Against the Nazis!' [takes out pad and pen and starts writing] This is only the beginning!

VYVYAN: What are you going to do, Rick? Burn your bra?

RICK: [look at Vyvyan flatly] Well, someone's got to do it, Vyvyan! It's very easy to sit on your backside, isn't it?

VYVYAN: Not if you haven't got a bottom! [doorbell rings]

MIKE: That'll be the front door.

NEIL: I bet I know whose got to answer it.

MIKE: But, Neil, you like meeting people!

NEIL: [gets up. Looks at camera] If I had a penny for everytime I had to answer the door, I'd have five pound, sixty-three! [goes to door]

VYVYAN: It's probably someone unbelievably boring!

NEIL: Oh, no! It's the TV Detector Van!

RICK: MIKE, YOU BASTARD! Why didn't you buy a license? I can't go to prison! I'm too pretty! I'll get raped!

MIKE: Yeah, steady on! Steady on! We're not beat yet! Alright, the time has come for diplomacy!

NEIL: Oh, no. He's asked me if we've got a telly! I think I'm gonna have to lie! Bad Karma!

MIKE: Alright, the time for diplomacy is over. Vyv? [unplugs TV] Chuck the telly out the window!

RICK: Get rid of it! Quickly! Quickly! [Vyvyan picks up TV and throws it at the window. The TV bounces off the window]

MIKE: That I did not expect!

VYVYAN: What if we sneak it out past him into the street?

RICK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Mike, you go out and point to the sky, right, and say, 'Look at that interesting thing up there!'
[to Vyvyan] You disguise the TV as an old woman and sneak it past him!

MIKE: Rick, suicide may be a great hobby, but I wouldn't do it for a living!

NEIL: Lads, I've told we don't have a telly and I think that's thrown him a bit, but it won't hold him forever!

RICK: Good thinking, Neil! Keep it up! [starts writing in notebook]

MIKE: This is a very tricky spot, but Mike, the cool person, will squeeze it! Rick, stop crying!

RICK: [rubs eye] I'm not crying, I just got something in my eye, that's all! [continues writing]

MIKE: Vyv? Eat the telly!

VYVYAN: That's a completely brilliant idea, Mike. I've been wanting to do this for a long time! [grabs the TV and starts devouring it]

RICK: [writing] It was the other three, not me. I had no idea what was going on, it really was the other three! [cut to front door. Neil is talking to a man]

NEIL: Alright, Don't rush me, that's not an easy question to answer. 'Have I got a telly?' There could be, like, a number of different replies.
I need some time to think one up, you know?

MAN: We know you got one, we detected it!

NEIL: Oh, so you've just been playing with me all along?

MAN: Well, it's better than playing with yourself! Ho ho! A cheap sexual illusion, makes the world go round!

NEIL: Ugh!

MIKE: [enters] Neil, you haven't introduced me to your new pal.

BASTARD: Bastard's the name! [shakes Mike's hand] But you can call me right bleeding, all my friends do, or did.

MIKE: What do you mean?

BASTARD: I killed him. Where's your license?

MIKE: As the eunuch said to Mussolini, 'I haven't got one, and if I did, I wouldn't show it to you!'

NEIL: That was a really cheap joke, Mike.

MIKE: I'm saving up to pay the license fine.

NEIL: Don't tell me you haven't got a plan.

MIKE: I could never resist a challenge. Neil, I haven't got a plan. [to camera] I hope someone's taking this down!\

BASTARD: [shoves his way inside the house] Right, where's this telly. Ah-hah! So you do have it! You little runt!
[walks over to Vyvyan, who has successfully eaten the TV, save for the cord, which hangs out his mouth. Vyvyan waves to Mr. Bastard]
The old trick, eh? Eat the telly before I get a chance to nick you!

VYVYAN: It's a toaster!

BASTARD: It's a telly you yobbo! Now give it back, I want to nick you! [grabs Vyvyan's hands, puts his foot on Vyvyan's stomach and pulls. Mike quickly interveins]
MIKE: Mr. Bastard! Mr. Bastard! OKAY! Now, toaster or telly, the contents of my colleague's stomach are private property! And if they get damaged in any way, we sue!

BASTARD: Well, I can wait! I've dealt with yout sort before! [to Neil] Where's your toilet?

NEIL: Oh, upstairs. Just follow your nose.

RICK: That's just great, Neil. Tell the fascist where our toilet is!

NEIL: Shh! BASTARD: I'm going up there now to wait. I know how to wait! And I promise you, son, when that telly comes out the other end, you're nicked!
[slowly slinks up the stairs. Comes back and looks at the bomb for a second, the ascends the stairs again]

VYVYAN: It's alright, lads! I always poo before I get up! [Rick and Neil breathe a sigh of relief]

RICK: Dear oh dear, what a boring man.

NEIL: No, that was really heavy Rick. Hey, what's this? [grabs Rick's paper and reads] 'It was the other three...'

RICK: [snatches paper from Neil] Give me that! Oh, I see, try and blame us three and save yourself! Don't worry, Mike, I'll tear it up!
[rips up paper and throws it away] Disgusting! [SPG takes the cord from the TV and plugs it in. He laughs. Cut to Vyvyan being electrocuted.
A blue stream of electricity comes from his head. He pulls the cord out, walks over to SPG on the floor, and proceeds to stomp him flat]

VYVYAN: Bastard! I think it's the toaster for you! [thrusts SPG in the toaster and turns it on. Smoke comes out of the toaster] Burn! [SPG pops out, toasted] Brilliant!
[takes SPG over to the sink and thrusts him down the sink] [Mr. Bastard falls through the hole in the floor. He points a finger at both Rick and Neil, then ascends the stairs]

RICK: Amazing! The most crazy things happen in this nutty place! Sometimes I really wish that I was a fly on the wall.

[cut to three flies. There is a camera facing one]

FLY #1: I suppose that I would too, if I wasn't one already! Who are you?

FLY #2: Oh, we're just the 'Fly on The Wall' documentary film crew, okay love?, were just making a short film about what it's REALLY like to be a fly on the wall,
so probably the best thing is if you can just imagine we're not here, carry on with your normal daily life.

FLY #1: Right.

FLY #2: Cue question marker!

FLY #3: What's it like being a fly on the wall?

FLY #1: Ahh, well! Uh, it's overated! Unless I find something really dirty... [smoke fills the room. The flies scream in terror. Cut to house. Rick is spraying fly spray on the flies]

RICK: Pesky little things! Why do have to let so many flies in this place, Neil?

NEIL: Never mind that, Rick. Seriously, we ought to do something about this bomb! I'm going upstairs to get in incredibly helpful and informative "Protect and Survive" manual!
Nobody better touch this while I'm gone! [Neil exits. Vyvyan takes the catsup bottle and smashes it on the bomb. Mike reciols in fright]

VYVYAN: Why won't it go off, Mike?

MIKE: Why do you want it to go off?

VYVYAN: Who can tell?

MIKE: I can tell! And I'm telling you to stop!

RICK: Just ignore him, Mike, he trying to show off! [Vyvyan walks out and returns with a bag of tools. He takes a crowbar and works on the bomb]

MIKE: I tell you, if we gave this baby to the green grocers, we'd come back with more than a packet of tea!

RICK: What, are you suggesting making a profit out of nuclear arms?

MIKE: Yes.

RICK: Oh, I think that would be very fine behavior for a Cliff Richard fan! [Vyvyan takes a sledgehammer and hits the bomb]
For someone who actually believes the lyrics to 'Devil Woman' have got something to say!
[Vyvyan hits the bomb again]

MIKE: Rick, if we sold this bomb you could buy Cliff Richard! [Vyvyan hits the bomb again]

RICK: VYVYAN, WILL YOU STOP IT!

VYVYAN: [thinking, using the sledgehammer as a pointer] What I need is the drill, the hedge trimmers, and some ordinary household bleach! [exits]

RICK: Well, I'm going to tell Thatcher that we've got a bomb. And if she doesn't do something to help "the kids" by this afternoon, we're going to blow up England.

MIKE: Rick, a social conscience is like a garden shed. If you try to eat it, it will stick in your throat!

RICK: Point one: Abolish poverty! Point Two: Abolish capitalism. Point Three: Dexy's Midnight Runners playing free, daily, in the University library!

MIKE: But I told them to set up in our lavatory!

[Dexy's Midnight Runners perform. At the end of the song, Mr Bastard exits the bathroom, confused. Cut to downstairs. Mike is on the phone. Vyvyan is ties up in the wardrobe]

VYVYAN: Why won't you let me set off the bomb, you bastards! [Mike shuts the wardrobe door]

MIKE: No, operator, Gadaffi. G-A-D, yeah alright, I'll hang on.

RICK: [comes in wearing camoflague and flipping through the phonebook. He is also wearing sunglasses, one lens is bandaged up] Thatcher, Thatcher.
Ah, Thatcher. Typical, she's got about four hunderd different phone numbers. [throws phonebook away] Useless.
Are you going to be long, Mike? I want to start blackmailing Thatcher with our bomb.

MIKE: I tell you, this is going to be bigger than the biggest thing you can think off. [Rick takes the notebook attached to the wall and looks through it]

RICK: I notice you haven't written the call down in the book, Mike. That's very intersting isnt it really. I mean we have this book here where we write down the calls we make.
I suppose you just forgot. Well, I wonder what other times you conveniently forgot?

MIKE: Rick, what are you talking about? This is a payphone!

RICK: Yeah, but it's the principal of the thing really.

MIKE: Here, read this. [gives Rick an adult magazine. Rick flips through the magazine in disgust] What do you mean, you don't have the Libyan phone book? I pay my bills!

RICK: You're sick, Mike!

MIKE: If people weren't sick, we wouldn't need penicillin!

RICK: [throws the magazine away and makes for the door] I'm going to the phone box. [stops at the door and thinks. pulls his pants way up and walks to the kitchen]
Neil, can you lend me...What are you doing? [Neil is reading his survival manual while painting himself white with a paintbrush]

NEIL: Oh, painting myself white to deflect the blast!

RICK: Thats great, isn't it, Racial discrimination, even in death! What are these? [indicates a few lunchbags on the table]

NEIL: Oh, sandbags!

RICK: Come on, give me five pence, Neil.

NEIL: Oh, you can remember my name when it's time to borrow some money.

RICK: [sighs in annoyance] GIVE ME IT!

NEIL: [takes out 5p] Do you have two two's and a one?

RICK: [reaches in his pocket, then thinks] Um, no I haven't.

NEIL: Well, how do I know I'm gonna get it back? I mean, I don't want to seem like a really heavy bread head, but 5p is 5p!

RICK: Because it's important to me, that's enough!

NEIL: But you put me in a really difficult situation ,I mean, I'd like to lend it to you now but its just like 5p

RICK: [interrupts] Alright, shut up, Neil. Shut up. Will you lend it to me if I promise to be your slave all day tomorrow?

NEIL: Yeah, that sounds like a good deal, yeah

RICK: [takes his hand from behind his back. His fingers are crossed. He waves them playfully in Neil's face]
Touch luck, buster! I had my fingers crossed behind my back all along!

NEIL: I won't say anything becasue no one ever listens to me anyway! I might as well be a Leonard Cohen record!
[Rick uncrosses his fingers and gives Neil a two-fingered salute, then exits the house]

MIKE: [on phone] So your sending someone round straight away. Right.

BALOWSKI: Awright!

MIKE: Reggie Balowski!

BALOWSKI: Awright me old trout and toolbox, how you doing, here y'are, heres me card, Reggie Balowski, International arms dealer, scrap metal merchant
and French cabaret chanteuse. So, is that the atom bomb is it, eh? [sharp intake of breath, used car dealer style] Oooh, Naaaa, not in that colour, you know what I mean.
See, that bomb, to me its worth, well, a pony, couple of tortoises at most. If you was doin a part-ex on a Mini Metro, know what I mean right, Id take about nine
million off your hands. But as it is, know what I mean, so I cant help you really. Still I got a few minutes, so I might as well indulge in a bit of Cockney patois,
know what I mean? Cor blimey, knock it on the 'ead, do what, as it 'appens. Terrific, here, didn't you kill my bruvver? No it must have been me, sorry.
Anyway, you seen them inflatable bridges? Cor, they're amazing in't they? Bloody hell, skateboards? Thing of the past, yeah, absolutely, do me Bob, knock it on
the 'ead. I don't know who I am. Laugh? Laugh, I nearly went to Ethiopia. Second class of course. Know what I mean?

MIKE: Not really, no Reg.

BALOWSKI: Your a right little five speed gearbox aren't you. Here'y'are, Tell you what, right, Tell you what, come outside, Ill give you part-ex on a Reliant, right.

MIKE: Reliant eh?, I'll just get my coat. Reliant? Thats a three wheeler, innit?

BALOWSKI: Usually yeah yeah yeah.

[cut to Rick walking down the street. He passes by a policeman. Rick angrily turns his head away from the policeman.
When he is behind the policeman's back, Rick gives him a two-fingered salute. Satisfied, he walks over to the phone box.
There elderly ladies are destroying it]

RICK: Don't you know who youre really hurting? The kids!

WOMAN: Perhaps that will stop them raping old ladies! [they laugh. Rick leaves]
[cut to a golf field. Dino, dressed in fancy golf clothes, is preparing to putt]

DINO: [canned laughter. Dino talks to camera] Oh, hi! Glad you could make it! I'll be with you in just one moment!
[putts, ball goes a few feet then stops. Canned laughter] Oh, darn! You should have been here earlier, I holed in one!
Mind you, I was playing pinball in the clubhouse! [canned laughter] [Dicky, also in golf clothes, enters looking around]

DICKY: Anybody seen where my ball went?

DINO: Uh, oh. Here comes trouble! [canned laughter]

DICKY: ...Chinese food! [canned laughter]

DINO: Dicky! [tries to slap Dickys hand and misses, but acted like they connected. canned laughter] I haven't seen this guy since rehearsal! [canned laughter]

DICKY: I didn't know you took up golf!

DINO: My coach says I haven't...[to camera] yet! [canned laughter]

DICKY: Hey you got a coach? Pull me up! [jumps up and down like he's being pulled up. Dino puts his arm around him]

DINO: Hey, Dicky! Are we gonna play golf or who?

DICKY: Hey, seig heil! [to his golf club] Hey, Marsha! Take a hike! [tosses the golf club aside, then waves it away]

DINO: I gotta tell you something Dicky? I was playing...I got a birdie on the fourteenth!

DICKY: Why, Dino, that's terrific!

DINO: Yeah, [to camera] but I was driving for the tenth! [canned laughter]

DICKY: You remember that song he used to sing before he got shot in the neck?

DINO: You want to do that song now? right here on my show?

DICKY: Hey, Dino, I'd love to, but I never sing in slacks!

DINO: That's no problem! With a little Dino magic! [they leave. pan to studio set. Dicky and Dino are now in tuxedos. They enter through the audience]

DICKY: How did he do that? [slaps Dino's hands. They decend to the stage. A backdrop falls behind saying, 'Dicky and Dino' They both tabe microphones]
Hey, Dino, I understand you have a dog!

DINO: That is right!

DICKY: Tell me, what are you doing with this dog these days?

DINO: [singing] I'm tying my dog to the railroad track.

DICKY: Uh-huh. DINO: [singing] Choo-choo train's gonna break his back. We used to call him Spot.

DICKY: [singing]Yeah-heah! But now he's called Splat!

BOTH: [singing]That's the kind of person we are.

DINO: [singing] Oh, baby, won't you come home with me?
[Dino gives a friendly tap to Dicky's face, but punches him. Dicky staggers, DIno smiles at the camera.
Cut to TV showing 'Dicky and Dino' backdrop. A lady switches it off, and opens up a window.]

CLERK: Next Please. [Cut to an office. several people are queued up to speak to lady bedhins window. Rick enters and stares at the queue angrily.
An elderly man enters behind him]

RICK: [shouting] COME ON! COME ON! THERE'S OTHER PEOPLE IN THIS QUEUE BESIDES YOURSELVES YOU KNOW!
[To man] I dont know, the service in this place seems to get worse and worse, dont you think?

MAN: Aye lad, things certainly were different before these new fangled changes.

RICK: Well of course they were you senile old git, or they wouldn't be changes, would they?

MAN: I was only agreeing with you!

RICK: Oh, yes! I suppose things were pretty marvellous in 'the good old days'. Four year old kiddies digging coal!
Three year old kiddies [pauses] er, digging coal as well as the four year old kiddies.
I suppose you think that was the limit, don't you? Well Ive got news for you. I think old people are really boring.
And the only reason you don't understand our music is because you don't like it!
[fade to office at a later time. Rick, the elderly man, and one customer in front of Rick are the only people left]

RICK: I mean, its no wonder the country is in such a state. I dont know why they dont just be honest and hand the whole place over to OxFam.
Nothing but scroungers and horrid old people and workshy layabouts all wandering around clutching their Giros' and trying to get something for nothing.
Oh yes, the Post Office seems to be very good at handing out other peoples money, doesn't it?
No wonder my grant's so small. I suppose next thing there will be rows and rows of little Biafran children, all queing up for a bowl of millet before
they become Communists. [shoves man in front out of the way] Excuse me, I was first.

LADY: Can I help you? RICK: That depends what I want, doesn't it? [to old man] Completely over her head of course!
[to lady] I want to send a telegram!

LADY: Good. Well, if you'd just like to fill in this form, I can serve the gentleman behind you. Can I help you, dear?

RICK: Wait a minute. He's behind me! I had to wait, why can't he?

MAN: I just want to...[tries to hand lady an envelope. Rick shoves his hand back]

RICK: Look, wait a minute, I wont be very long. [writes as Lady coughs violently] Thatcher, Weve got a bomb, do..[shouts to lady]
DO YOU MIND? I'M TRYING TO WRITE! [goes back to writing] Do what we want, or well blow it up. Signed, Anon. There!
See? Didn't take very long, did it?

LADY: You'll have to put your address on it. [Rick hands the letter back to the lady with the pencil]

RICK: You write it! 'Rick, Thirteen Credibility Street'!

LADY: Vic?

RICK: No, Rick.

RICK. Oh, forget it, put Neil. Yes, put Neil.

LADY: Thank you, Mr. Neil. by the way, you've come to the wrong place. This is the DSS. If you want to send a letter you should try the post office.

RICK: FASCIST! [cut to house. The table now has a drape over it saying, 'KEEP OUT, FALLOUT'. Mike enters carrying food in both hands]

MIKE: Neil, where's the table?

NEIL: Oh, good. You got the provisions. You know, John Lennon once said 'A man with a handhul of takeaways is either very hungry, or knows someone that's very hungry.'

MIKE: Yeah, Mike says, 'A man with a handful of takeaways has got warm grease running up both sleeves'
Now, I've been trying to sell our bomb to all the undercover agents in town.
Now the CIA's interested [shows Wimpy bags], the Mafia's interested [shows pizza box],and the chinese are falling all over themselves [shows boxes of Chinese food]

NEIL: No, not on the roof man!, put it in the food zone! Anyway, it's got to be tinned if it's going to survive ten years of fallout!

MIKE: No neil you dont understand. Im expecting that phone to start ringing and the world to start bidding any second now.

NEIL: Well, they'd better hurry up, Because Vyvyan' has escaped! [suddenly, a huge wrecking ball comes through the wall, smashing the cupboard and much of the wall.
Vyvyan is riding the ball. After the chaos has settled, Vyvyan enters and looks at the bomb]

VYVYAN: Missed!

RICK: There, that's all taken care off. By this time tomorrow everybody will be free and there will be no more racial prejudice or hatred! Get up, Neil! I hate you!

MIKE: Done what? Done what?

VYVYAN: Yeah! Done what, hippie?

RICK: Told Thatcher about our bomb, you bunch of lavatory bowls!

MIKE: Rick, I'm dealing with the bomb.

RICK: You? You hypocritical Nazi!

VYVYAN: Oh, shut up!

RICK: Oh shut up yourself. [rests his hand on the bomb, and accidentally moves it. A ticking sound is heard]

NEIL: Oh, no. [hides in the shelter]

MIKE: This could be very heavy for all of us!

RICK: What are we gonna do, Mike?

MIKE: Mike, the cool person, stays steady as a rock while all around him is chaos! He checks his reflection! [looks out window]
That's good! That's very good! That's the only way to go!

VYVYAN: [hugging bomb] I hope this isn't a dud!

RICK: I know, drape Neil over it! It might sort of cover up the blast!

MIKE: No, there's no time. Under the shelter! [Mike and Rick dive under the shelter, shoving Neil out]

NEIL: [to Mike and Rick] Look, I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it! [Vyvyan and Neil join Mike and Rick under the shelter.
They all fight for a better position. The bomb begins to crack. After a while, the bomb splits open and a small model plane flies out]
VOICE: Up up and away! [the plane flies out the window and circles around. End credits]

THE END