Young Ones Scripts

Young Ones Scripts

The Young Ones - Sick

Written by Ben Elton, Rik Mayall and Lise Mayer.

Additional material by Alexei Sayle

Filmed by the BBC in 1984

VYVYAN: [coughs, spits up, looks in a mirror removed from the side of his car] Feeling better, you bastard?!

RICK: Will you stop making that revolting noise, Vyvyan?! You know I'm ill, you're only doing it to make me feel worse!

NEIL: You're ill?! I'm the one who's ill. Listen! [coughs pathetically] Nobody feels worse than me. And your shouting's not helping at all, Rick!

RICK: Oh, stop whining, Neil! God, you're practically brain-dead as it is! I don't see how a pathetic little cold's going to make much difference! You're probably not even ill anyway. You're probably just lying to try and impress us!

NEIL: Oh, yeah?! Well, how come I'm all hot and sweaty then?

RICK: Well, I think most of us would rather not go into that!

VYVYAN: Will you two shut up? I'm trying to be ill! [looks through a pile of used tissues] Oh, God! There's nothing left to wipe my nose on. Even SPG's all covered in snot.

SPG: Ah, too true.

NEIL: Vyvyan, will you shut up?! You're giving me tunnel vision!

RICK: Stop shouting, Neil!

NEIL: Stop shouting yourself!

RICK: I am not shouting!!

NEIL: Yes, you are!!

RICK: I bloody well am not!! If you want to hear shouting, matey, this is it!! [Starts screaming like a two-year old]

VYVYAN: [takes part of his sleeve, sticks it in the top of the vodka bottle] It's funny, but being ill makes me lose my usual tolerant and easy-going approach to communal living.

RICK: Oh, well, how ruddy considerate, Vyvyan. Thank you very much!

NEIL: Yeah, thanks, Vyv. That petrol bomb's really cleared my sinuses.

VYVYAN: Why aren't you dead?

RICK: I'm not prepared to discuss it with you, Vyvyan. You will be hearing from my solicitors in the morning. I'm going to write to my MP.

NEIL: You haven't got an MP, Rick. You're an anarchist.

RICK: Oh. Well, then I shall write to the lead singer of Echo and the Bunnymen!

MIKE: What's this?

VYVYAN: It's a fish, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, thanks. [leaves]

RICK: [writing] Dear Mr. Echo....

VYVYAN: Why'd I do that?

RICK: Ah, Vyvyan, beginning to regret it now, are you?

VYVYAN: Of course I'm beginning to regret it. That was nearly a full bottle of vodka! That's £7.99 you owe me, ploppy pants.

RICK: Oh, stop being so blinking bourgousie! All property is theft, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: All right, then. Where's your girlie purse?

MIKE: [knocks, comes back in with the fish] All right, I didn't finish my sentence. I meant to say, what's this fish doing in my bed?

VYVYAN: It's not in your bed, Mike.

MIKE: Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Vyv. [leaves]

VYVYAN: [takes Rick's coin purse, removes some money] Ha ha! Found it!

RICK: You put that back! That's my personal property!

NEIL: You just said all property is theft, Rick.

RICK: Well, yes, it is.

VYVYAN: Yeah, so I'm nicking it.

RICK: Stop! Thief! Thief!

NEIL: Thieves rush in where angels fear to tread.

RICK: No, it's fools, Neil. Fools.

NEIL: Thieves rush in where fools fear to tread.

RICK: Yeah! Andy Williams said that!

VYVYAN: Alexander Pope!

RICK: Oh, well, you're a little snob, aren't you, Vyvyan?

VYVYAN: Wimp! Pervert! Knob-end!

RICK: Oh, Vyvyan, what repartee! Sticks and stones my break my bones!

VYVYAN: Well! That is the first sensible thing you have said all day.

MIKE: [knocks on the door, comes in, empty-handed] OK, so go ahead now. What's this fish doing in my bed?

RICK, VYVYAN, NEIL: [together] What fish?

MIKE: Oh, yeah. Sorry. [leaves]

MIKE: [knocks on the door and enters] Just one more thing...

MIKE: Has anyone got a tissue?

RICK: Stop it, Neil!

NEIL: I can't stop it.

RICK: [Takes the pillowcase off his pillow] Quick, Vyvyan! The pillowcase!

RICK: Phew! VYVYAN: Quick, stick his head out the window.

BUS MAN: Excuse me, did you throw that?

BRICK THROWER: Yeah! Good shot, wasn't it? [The Bus Man punches the Brick Thrower in the head, and they start to fight. A car drives down the street, crashing into the Brick Thrower's car. More fighting breaks out.]

MIKE: That's a bit extreme, isn't it? Won't he suffocate in there?

VYVYAN: Very probably, Michael. But we've got to keep the bogeys off the wall. [leaves]

NEIL: [sneezes] Oh, wow! It's really horrible in here. Why did you have to use Rick's laundry bag?

RICK: Oh, well, there's gratitude for you! It's me who's going to have snotty undies for the next two terms, Neil. It's me they're going to be calling "Bogey Bum". Especially at the next Friends of Stalin Society "Show Your Bottom" competition.

VYVYAN: [comes back with a duffle bag] I'm afraid I couldn't find any needles, so we'll have to use 6-inch nails.

RICK: Vyvyan, you can't do acupuncture with 6-inch nails.

NEIL: Well, you better think of something quickly, cause this bag's getting really full. [sneezes]

MIKE: I'm going to the chemist.

NEIL: Oh, great. To get some medicine for our colds?

MIKE: No, I fancy the girl who works there.

NEIL: Oh, Mike, in that case, do you think that you could get something while you're there to clean the toilet with?

RICK & VYVYAN: [together, shocked] What?!

MIKE: [pause] I don't think I can, Neil. [leaves]

VYVYAN: You can't clean the toilet, Neil. It'll lose all its character.

RICK: We never clean the toilet, Neil. That's what being a student is all about! No way, Harpic! No way, Dot! All that Blue Loo scene is for squares. One thing's for sure, Neil. When Cliff Richard wrote "Wired for Sound", no way was he sitting on a clean lavatory. He was living on the limit, just like me. Where the only place to put bleach is in your hair!

VYVYAN: Living on Limits? What, are you on a diet?

RICK: No, I live on The Limit, Vyvyan. The Limit. Because I'm a Rider at the Gates of Dawn and I take no prisoners.

MIKE: [standing in front of a tremendously filthy toilet] I don't know what Neil is talking about.

TOILET: What's Domestos? [belches]

MIKE: It's exactly this type of communal street life that the high-rise block is destroying.

VYVYAN: Ok, Neil. I am now going to insert the first nail. You may feel a bit of a prick.

NEIL: So what's new?

VYVYAN: OK, here it goes.

MIKE: 180 pound worth of Durex, please. [The girl looks disgusted] Oh, sorry, force of habit.

NEIL: Oh, wow. I hope Mike hurries back with the cure.

VYVYAN: No. No, Neil, it's Madness this week! [Goes back to hitting Rick with the hammer]

MIKE: [getting tossed out of the O.K. Chemist] So I'll pick you up at 8, OK?

VAN DRIVER: Get out! Get out of it, clear off! Bloody pop concert, right in the middle of the road.

POLICEMAN: Go on, run 'em down!

VAN DRIVER: I can't do that!

POLICEMAN: Why not? You're a policeman, aren't you?!

DAMAGE: They were a great band, weren't they? Middle Of The Road, "ooh, ee, chirpy chirpy cheap cheap"?

POLICEMAN: Shut your mouth, Damage!

DAMAGE: 'Ere, 'Mr. Damage' to you, copper. And nobody tells Mr. Damage to shut his mouth. Not if they wanna keep the head in the vicinity of the shoulders. [opens his mouth very wide] All right?

POLICEMAN: Listen. Shut your mouth, Damage! [Damage attacks him]

RICK: We'd better do something before the bag explodes. Hey, brilliant idea! Maybe sneezing is like hiccups, and you have to give him a frightful shock to make them go away.

VYVYAN: [holds up a large knife] I think he'll get a shock when he feels this. We've run out of nails, so we'll have to start using the cutlery.

RICK: No! Vyvyan, be sensible. I've got to eat off that.

VYVYAN: I suppose you're right.

My brain's exploded! My brain's exploded!!

It didn't work.

RICK: [scared to death, trying to compose himself] I'm not surprised, Vyvyan. That was pathetic. You must do something more subtle.

VYVYAN: Neil, if you don't stop sneezing by the time I count three, I'mgoing to cut your bottoms off and ram them up your nose. One...

... two...


NEIL: Oh, wow! I wish this wasn't happening to me.

MIKE: Mario, my usual table for two, 8:30. [hangs up]

VYVYAN: 2.999 recurring.....

RICK: Do it!

DAMAGE: All right! [points the shotgun at the boys] Nobody move and nothing will happen!

RICK: Goodness, how exciting! Are you an anarchist?

DAMAGE: No, I am not. I am Brian Damage Balowski. I am, however, a violent and highly dangerous escaped criminal madman!

RICK: What would you like us to do?

DAMAGE: Right. Everybody us against this wall, NOW!!

VYVYAN: You said nobody move and nothing will happen. How're we going to get to the wall if we can't move?

MIKE: And more to the point, what happens if we DO move to the wall?


RICK: Oh, God. What happens if anybody moves?!

DAMAGE: What happens?

RICK & VYVYAN: [together] Yes!

DAMAGE: All right. Terribly sorry, terribly sorry. If anybody moves, I'll show you what happens, right.

This happens, right?

NEIL: Hi there. Are you the doctor?

Oooh! Ahhhh! Ooooooh!! [Neil breathes in deeply] Hey, I think that's done the trick! Thanks, Doc.

DAMAGE: Thanks, Doc?! Are you being sar-carstic or something, my son? That's one of my least favorite things, that happens to be. Sar-carsm.

SPG: [watching everything from his seat on top of the fridge] Really. Hah-huh.How incredibly interesting. [sighs]

DAMAGE: I was walking a dog, and this bloke, he comes to me and says, "Nice day, innit?" But it wasn't. It wasn't a nice day. It was a little bit cloudy. Which makes him very sar-carstic. So acting as if nothing would happen, I took his head, right, put it in me mouth, right, acting dead casual-like, clamped me teeth, and BIT HIS HEAD OFF!! Cause I hate people being sar-carstic.

NEIL: I wasn't, you know, being sar-castic.

DAMAGE: Weren't ya? Well, forget everything I just said then, all right?

VYVYAN: What? Everything from when you first came in?

DAMAGE: Now, if you don't get up against that wall by the time I count three, I'm gonna blow your heads off one by one, all right?! Ah-one. Ah-two...

VYVYAN'S MUM: Yoo-hoo! Hello!

DAMAGE: Oh, God!!

VYVYAN'S MUM: Sorry I didn't knock, but some joker's impaled a head on the front door. Hello, Vyvyan. [pinches Vyvyan's cheek]

VYVYAN: Piss off.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That's no way to talk to your mother, Vyvyan!

VYVYAN: All right, then. Piss off, mum.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That's better.

VYVYAN: What do you want?

VYVYAN'S MUM: Well, what're moms for?

VYVYAN: I dunno. Having babies?

VYVYAN'S MUM: Don't be so sexist, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: [in great pain, slumped over] I'm sorry, Mum.

VYVYAN'S MUM: No. I heard you was ill, so I brought you a present.

VYVYAN: The last present you gave me was a box of matches.

VYVYAN'S MUM: That was a joke!

VYVYAN: I was only eight weeks old.

DAMAGE: Here, excuse me, excuse me. But I'm not actually known for my patience.

RICK: Oh. Oh. Well, you're probably not Dr. Kildare then!

VYVYAN: Well, what've you brought me this time?

VYVYAN'S MUM: [removes a bottle from the cart] A bottle of vodka.

VYVYAN: Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Mum. [takes the bottle, removes the cap, tips it over] This is empty.

VYVYAN'S MUM: [flips him the two-fingered salute] Ha ha! Up yours, ugly!

DAMAGE: God, what a nasty woman! [fires a shot in the air] All right, this has now gone on far too seriously long enough by half, OK?! I am now going to phone the authorities, right. And if they do not give me, within 20 minutes, a helicopter...100,000 pounds...a complete set of steak knives... in the presentation box... seven tickets to see the Brazilian National Mime Theatre at the Riverside Studios... a little can terrier named of them little black rubber things, you know them little black rubber things that go "nee nee nee nee", yeah, a big box full of them, right...the complete memoirs of Donald Sinden...

VYVYAN: Oh, very handy!

DAMAGE: Otherwise, I'm gonna blow your heads off, all right? Now, everybody up against that wall, now!!

RICK: Oh!! Bloody lummy! All right, who's responsible?!

MIKE: I think I'm quite responsible, actually.

NEIL: Yeah, Mike is, yeah.

RICK: Listen, listen! Somebody has got to clean all this muck up, and I can tell you one thing, matey boy, it's not going to be me.

VYVYAN: What does a bit of mess matter? We're all going to be dead in twenty minutes anyway.

DAMAGE: Yeah. [Cocks gun, aims at them]

NEIL: [panics] Oh, no! Oh, wow! Oh, heavy heavy heavy!! Oooooohhh

MIKE: What're you upset for? You've always wanted to die.

NEIL: Who's talking about dying? I just remembered! My parents are coming round to tea!! [Rick and Vyvyan start screaming]

MIKE: Don't panic. Don't panic! Worse things happen at sea.

RICK: Like what, Mike? Like what?!

MIKE: Well, like, you could be on a nice cruise in the South China Sea, having a lovely time. There's terrible weather, a big storm, and the ship sinks. You fall overboard, you're drowning! This big shark swims up to you and says, "By the way, Neil's parents are coming to tea in 30 seconds." That's when you panic. Come on!

WITCH #1: All hail McVyvyan, Thane of Corridor!


WITCH #2: All hail McVyvyan, Thane of the Outside Toilet, and that little gravelly patch next to the garden shed.

WITCH #3: All hail McVyvyan, that shall be king of the whole house here after!

VYVYAN: Are you suggesting that I murder Mike, Rick, and Neil, in order to have the whole house to myself?

WITCH #3: Yes!

VYVYAN: It's a thought, I suppose. Make a great play!

MIKE: 27... 28... 29...

NEIL: [quietly, embarassed] Hello, Mummy. Hello, Daddy.

NEIL'S MUM: Hello.

NEIL'S DAD: Hello. Take my coat, will you?

NEIL: Come in. This is my house, where I live.

These are my friends. This is Rick. [Rick stands] He's studying sociology.

RICK: Oh, hello! [runs over] Pleased to meet you! Sorry, so many essays to write! [laughs, snorts] I'm surprised my arms aren't falling off! Perhaps they are, look out, bonk! [flails his arms wildly] You'll have to watch out for me because I'm a bit nutty. Aren't I, everybody?! A bit nutty?

MIKE: [walking to Neil's parents] Hello.

NEIL: This is Mike. He's studying,

MIKE: Well, I'm in what you'd call the School of Life, Mrs. Pye.

NEIL'S MUM: Oh, dear me. What a ghastly smell.

NEIL: Yeah, er, that's Vyvyan, Mummy. He's going to be a doctor.

VYVYAN: [runs over] How do you do? [puts his face in hers]

NEIL'S MUM: How fascinating. I think I'm going to be sick. [turns away]

NEIL'S DAD: And is this fellow another one of your colleagues?

NEIL: No, that's the most violent and highly dangerous....

DAMAGE: [laughs] That's Neil's little joke, sir. Brian, Brian Damage. Currently working on my PhD in astrophysics, actually. But recently I did work on a degree in art history. But it was no use for a job.

NEIL'S DAD: What kind of job had you in mind?

DAMAGE: Maybe some kind of a bank job, you know.

NEIL'S DAD: Nice safe job?

DAMAGE: Yeah, possibly, possibly.

NEIL'S MUM: Did you make your bed?

NEIL: No, no, I bought it.

NEIL'S MUM: Exactly. [Wipes Neil's face with a hanky]

NEIL'S DAD: Now, your mother and I are very disappointed by all this, Neil.

NEIL'S MUM: You have brought shame on your family, Neil. I daren't show my face at Lady Fanshaw's bridge evenings, now that you've taken up with these television people. I mean, what kind of monsters are you?! I mean, The Young Ones. Well, it all sounds very good, doesn't it? But just look around you. There's trash!

I mean, even, even Triangle has better furniture than you do!

MIKE: I think you'll find that was specially designed to fall apart like that, Mrs. Pye. Rick was going to get hit over the head with it in the next scene.

NEIL: [embarassed] I thought you'd be, you know, glad I was doing something worthwhile.

NEIL'S DAD: Worthwhile?! I mean, it's a bloody outrage! It's a waste of a licensing fee. Pardon my French, but why can't you be in one of those decent situation comedies that your mother likes? What's the thing called?

VYVYAN: Grange Hill!

NEIL'S DAD: That's the one!

SCHOOLBOY #1: So that's settled then! We organize a protest against school uniforms!

SCHOOLBOY #2: Great! We can use the banners left over from the last protest we organized, so that racism wouldn't be an issue in this school.

SCHOOLBOY #1: Good! Then that's what we'll do. I'll get Mucker, Trucker, Ducker, and Sucker. You get Spaz!

SCHOOLBOY #2: But I am Spaz!

SCHOOLBOY #1: Oh. Well, I'd better get Spaz as well then. But we've got to hurry. [They start running, but bump into a stern-looking man in a 3-piece suit]

SCHOOLBOY #2: Sorry, Mr. Liberal. We were in a hurry.

MR. LIBERAL: Hang on, you pair of young scruffy tearaways. Don't you realize the way you act is influencing millions of children to talk Cockney and be insubordinate?!

SCHOOLBOY #1: Come on, sir. Don't be silly! We're the only kidds in Britain who never say fu....

NEIL'S MUM: You must be talking nonsense! I don't watch that ghastly program!

NEIL'S DAD: I'm sorry, my dear. It was my mistake. I meant The Good Life.

NEIL'S MUM: Oh, yes. That's the one.

VYVYAN: NO!! No! We're not watching the bloody Good Life!! Bloody bloody bloody!! I hate it!! It's so bloody nice! Felicity 'Treacle' Kendall and Richard 'Sugar-Flavored-Snot' Briars!! What do they do now?! Chocolate bloody Button ads, that's what!! They're just a couple of reactionary stereotypes, confirming the myth that everyone in Britain is a lovable, middle-class eccentric - and I - HATE - THEM!!

MIKE: That was a highly articulate outburst, Vyvyan. I only hope they're not watching.

RICK: Well, you can just shut up, Vyvyan. You can just about bloomin' well shut up! Cause if you've got anything horrid to say about Felicity Kendall, you can just about bloomin' well say it to me first!! All right?!

VYVYAN: Rick, I just did.

RICK: Oh! Oh!! You did, did you?! Well, I've got a good mind to give you a ruddy good punch on the bottom for what you just said! You're talking about the woman I love!

NEIL: Yeah, and me! I love her too.

NEIL'S DAD: yes, well, I agree with the spotty twerps on that one. Felicity Kendall is sweetly pretty, and just what a real girlie should be. Why, speaking as a feminist myself, I can safely say this: that Felicity Kendall is a wonderful woman, and I want to protect her.

VYVYAN: [sarcastic] Well, it's the first time I've ever heard it called that!

NEIL'S MUM: Neil! Say something!

NEIL: [quietly, knowing what Vyvyan can do to him] Shut up, Vyvyan, that's my dad you're talking to.

VYVYAN: Did you see that episode where the pig was going to have a baby? Now, that was quite a promising idea. But it was all done so bloody nicely! We didn't see anything! Even the policeman was nice.

POLICEMAN: All right! Why shouldn't the police be portrayed as nice occasionally?!

You trendy students are always giving us a bad name!

VYVYAN: Oh, do you mean like 'Big Jobbies'?

POLICEMAN: All right, now you've really asked for it!

Now, let me assure you that I would not have done that to you if you had been Felicity Kendall. [pause] God, are you all right?

MIKE: No. It was that silly cow. [points to Neil's Mom] She smashed the special balsa wood chair earlier on.

NEIL'S MUM: Well, none of this would have happened if you'd been doing a nice program like The Good Life.

MIKE: And that's where we'll put a row of cabbages.

VYVYAN: Okey-dokey, Mikey. We've got some of that!

MIKE: And that's where we'll put the row of caulies.

VYVYAN: Ah-hah! Just wait one moment, Michael.

MIKE: Very funny, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: Well, you might've laughed, Michael. It took me ages to raid the pet shop and nail 'em all to a plank.

RICK: [walking out from the house] A-ha! The timeless wonder of the English countryside.

Good grief, Christine, it'd be pretty bloody super to have a snog in a place like this! What do you think, Neil?

NEIL: I don't feel like it, actually, Rick. I've got a lot of work to do!

RICK: Not with you, you sick pervy. I meant with a pretty bloody super girlie who's on for an amazing bit of rumpo. and how's your father...

NEIL: [picks up a large bag of seed packets] OK, I've plowed this bit, right. And now I'm going to sow it. [throws packets of seed down] This self-sufficiency thing really is amazing. We sow the seed, right. Nature grows the seed, and then, we eat the seed. And then, after that, we sow the seed, nature grows the seed, and then, we eat the seed. And then, after that again, we sow the seed, nature grows the seed....

RICK: Oh, shut up, Neil! Shut up! Shut up. It's pathetic. I mean, what about radical magazines? What about Kicker boots?! Can we grow them? No, we can't, can we?! They beauty of your plan, Neil, seems to rest on everyone being really into seeds.

NEIL: No no no, Rick. You don't understand the timeless wonder of the whole thing. We. Sow the seed! Nature grows the seed. We eat the seed. And then....

RICK: All right. Now, shut up. [pause] Come on, get up Neil, there's a lot of work to be done. Neil? Neil?! [bends over, feels the body] Oh, God! Oh, God, I've killed a hippie! I've killed a hippie, and now I'll have to pay. Oh, God. Vyvyan's bound to tell on me, and I'll get sent to prison and raped in the shower by Mr. Big who's in with the warders. Oh! Burn the corpse! Burn the corpse.

Burn! Burn! Oh, trust Neil to be all soggy! Burn!

MAN #1: Hello.

MAN #2: Hello.

RICK: Hello!

MAN #1: My name's Mick. This is Tess.

TESS: All right, are ya?

RICK: Tess?

MICK: We would've brought Harry, but we don't know anyone called Harry.

RICK: Um, excuse me. [laughs nervously] You're not policemen, are you?

TESS: No, we're not policemen.

MICK: Oh, yeah! I'm sorry. Look, we've come about the muck.

RICK: Muck?

MICK: Look, you know, manure.

RICK: Yes?

MICK: We've been told to drop a load in your garden.

RICK: Well, listen, absolutely nobody, I don't care who they are, is doing a two-ton pooh outside of my front door.

TESS: Just thought you might need it to cover up that dead hippie you just murdered, that's all.

RICK: Yes! Yes, bury him! Bury him. But it's not a hippie. It's just a garden gnome, that I accidentally cracked.

GNOME: What a load of old crap! It's not a gnome! It's a hippie he's just killed. He's just killed a hippie, everybody!!

MIKE: So, this is the row of mixed veg. Oh, nicely nicely, we progress. The grow-anything fertilizer has arrived. [Sets the board down]

VYVYAN: Brilliant. We are now completely self-sufficient in fertilizer. Speaking of which, where's Neil?

MIKE: Yeah! Where is he? I specifically told him that if we don't sow the seed, nature can't grow the seed, and we can't eat the seed. Eh?

RICK: Ah, er, he's [pause] emigrated. [filled with remorse] And he said to say that you'll never see him again.

VYVYAN: Well, he's left one of his shoes behind.

He's left one of his feet behind as well!

MIKE: Bloody idiot.

RICK: [laughs] Yes, I noticed he was hopping when he left.

MIKE: Hang on a minute. Did you say..? [the sky turns dark]

RICK: Oh, no. Night time.

MIKE: Good grief. Oh, well. Boing. [jumps up, motions to the others]

RICK & VYVYAN: [together, jumping] Boing!

MIKE: Time for bed, everyone.

NEIL: Lucky Rick only stunned me, eh?

Oh, wow!


NEIL #2: Hello?

NEIL: Anybody watching that must've thought it was a negative reality inversion.

WOMAN: Cor, that looked just like a negative reality inversion, didn't it?

MAN: Yes, it did, a bit.

NEIL: I was right! [another Neil sits up] Hello?

NEIL #2: Hello?

NEIL #3: Hello.

NEIL: Oh, wow. [notices the grow-anything fertilizer] Rick planted me. I was the seed. Rick sowed me. Nature grew me. Yeah!

CONSCIENCE: Rick. Rick! This is the voice of your conscience speaking.

RICK: Shut up. Shut up!

CONSCIENCE: Don't tell me to shut up, you spotty little bastard. I'm your conscience. You killed Neil, didn't you?

RICK: No! No! It wasn't me. It was, uh, Vyvyan and Mike, and I'm going to tell on them as well!

CONSCIENCE: They didn't bloody well do it. It was you!

RICK: Oh, God! Whose side are you on?

CONSCIENCE: Not bloody yours, matey!

RICK: Then get out of my head, poo-hole!

CONSCIENCE: Try and make me, farty breath!

VYVYAN: Rick, will you tell your conscience to keep its voice down?! I'm trying to get some sleep!

VYVYAN: Oh, come on, Judge Mike! He's obviously a complete bastard. Let's hang him!

RICK: But I'm the People's Poet! The spokesperson of a generation! Kids everywhere look to me for inspiration!

GIRL: Oh, People's Poet. Don't die! We'll kill ourselves if you do!But first, we're going to take off all our clothes!

CONSCIENCE: Stop having a wet dream, you little pervy! [wakes Rick up] You're supposed to be racked with remorse!

RICK: I am! I am.

Oh, Neil! Neil! Orange peel! If only I could see you again.

NEIL #2: [sticks his head through the living room window] Hello, Rick.

NEIL #3: [sticks his head through the kitchen window] Hello, Rick.[Rick screams louder]

NEIL: [walking through the front door, puts his hand on Rick's shoulder] Hello, Rick.

RICK: Help! Michael! Vyvyan! Neil's come back from the grave as zombies!

ANNOUNCER: Good evening, and welcome to Nice Time, with Neil's parents and Brian Damage!