Young Ones Scripts

Young Ones Scripts

The Young Ones - Time

Written by Ben Elton, Rik Mayall and Lise Mayer.

Additional material by Alexei Sayle

Filmed by the BBC in 1984

MALVENES: Listen, it's urgent! I've to got to see E.T.!

SECRETARY: [filing her nails] It's been out two years now, Mr. Malvenes. Haven't you seen it yet?

MALVENES: Not the film. I'm talking about E.T. Fairfax, the new head of Global Oil, your boss.

SECRETARY: OK, Mr. Malvenes. Mr. Fairfax will see you now.

MALVENES: [walks into office, sees E.T. sitting with his back to him, smoke rising everywhere] E.T.? What is the meaning of this? I've just received this memo. E.T.? In the one day since you've inherited Global Oil, you've managed to dispose of assets worth over

6 billion dollars!

What is this?

All annual profits to be donated to the Brothers of the Soil commune in Wales, England? All petroleum and oil to be sold at a retail price of 2p a gallon? All oil wells to be given, tax free, to anyone really nice you can find?!

What is this, E.T.? Some kind of sick joke?!

E.T.: Hello. Would you care for a cup of herbal tea?

MALVENES: No, I would not!

E.T.: [into the phone] No tea.

MALVENES: My God, E.T., what are you doing now?

E.T.: [throws some money out the window] Yeah. [turns back] Listen! This company's been doing some pretty heavy things over the years, right. And it's gotta start getting beautiful or this planet's heading for oblivion!

MALVENES: My God, you're right, E.T.! What am I doing wearing these businessman's clothes? I'd better take them off before I turn into a computer.

E.T.: [crawls under his desk] Yeah, yeah! Let's make a teepee out of the desk!

MALVENES: Let's be Indians! [sounds a war cry]

SECRETARY: Far out! Do you hear the bells, E.T.? They're dancing in the street and loving each other, and it's all thanks to you, E.T.!

E.T.: Yeah!

VYVYAN'S VOICE: Shut up, you bastards!

E.T.: [confused] What?

VYVYAN: Shut up, you bastards!

NEIL: [wakes up, creeps under his covers] Oh, no.

VYVYAN: Shut up, you bastards! It's only eleven o'clock! Shut the bloody bells off!!

RICK: Morning, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: Piss off.

RICK: Vyvyan, do you remember anything about...?

VYVYAN: Look, will you stop trying to break my concentration, Rick? I'm trying to get rid of this hangover!

RICK: Yes, it was quite a party last night, wasn't it?

RICK: [entering] Good morning, Michael. You're up early.

MIKE: Well, I've got all the Sunday papers to get through.

RICK: Quite a party last night, wasn't it?

MIKE: Did we go to a party? Must've been good, I don't remember it.

RICK: [laughs, then winces and holds his head in hangover] I'll just make some tea, shall I? [goes to a tray of cups]


RICK: I thought I'd just make some tea. [counts cups, being clever] One cup, two cups, three cups, four cups... [throws a cup away] Oh, no! We've only got four cups, Mike, and we need five! [waits for a response] I said, we need five cups, Mike!

MIKE: There's another one in the sink, Rick.

RICK: [takes tray to the sink] I expect you're wondering why we need an extra cup, aren't you, Mike?


RICK: [tears open a tea bag, pours the leaves into a pot] Yes, well, you and me, Mike, we're men of the world, aren't we? Vyvyan and Neil wouldn't understand that grown men like us need...well, we need...

MIKE: Two cups of tea.

RICK: Yes. But no, no. I mean, yes, we need two cups of tea, but we don't drink both of them!

MIKE: Oh, no. Exactly. The other one's for Trevor.

RICK: Trevor?

MIKE: Yeah, you know, Trevor. My friend who lives in the bin.

RICK: [points to garbage can] This bin?

MIKE: Well, he'd hardly live in a biscuit barrel, now, would he?

RICK: Why not?

MIKE: It's full of biscuits!

Rick! Rick!!

RICK: What? What?!

MIKE: Trevor's tea. [points to the bin]

RICK: Yes, but...

MIKE: Trevor's tea!

RICK: [hesitates, goes to the bin, talks into it] Hello, Trevor! My name's Rick. Yes, hi. I'm a close friend of Mike's. I was wondering if you fancied a cup of tea this morning. Oh, you don't. Oh. [turns back to Mike] No, he said he's feeling a little bit queasy and he doesn't think he'll bother.

MIKE: [laughs] Had you going, Rick, didn't I, eh?

RICK: What?

MIKE: Talking to an empty bin?

RICK: Ah. [laughs]

MIKE: On a Sunday morning? [Mike and Rick laugh] There's no one in there. [pause] He's gone to church.

RICK: Well, then, I wonder who the extra cup of tea is for?

[turns to go upstairs, but runs into Neil, who's coming down. The warm tea splashes on Rick.]

Oh! Ah! Oh! Neil deliberately scalded me! I am disfigured for life! I am the Elephant Man!!

NEIL: Oh, no, Rick, sorry about that. It's just that there's something really freaky going on...

RICK: Lick it up.

NEIL: What?

RICK: Lick it up, every last drop. Now!

NEIL: [bends down] Just hang on a minute. Has it got any sugar in it?

RICK: Yes. Yes, a little bit. Yes.

NEIL: Well, I can't. Because, like, you know, sugar rots your teeth and gives you brain damage.

RICK: Well, you should've thought of that before you came stampeding in here like a long-haired elephant, shouldn't you?!

NEIL: You mean, like a mammoth?

RICK: Yes! No, look, it doesn't matter! Just get down there and start licking.

NEIL: Well, it does matter quite a lot, actually. Cause mammoths aren't long-haired. They're more like woolly. You know, woolly mammoths.

RICK: Yes! Yes, and they're extinct.

NEIL: Which proves what a bad analogy it was in the first place, because I'm not extinct, am I?

RICK: Shut up! Just get down there and start cleaning up this mess! [pushes Neil down] Pig!

NEIL: Oh, so I'm a pig now too, am I?

RICK: Yes, yes! Now, get licking, Porky!

NEIL: [picks cups up, stands] Well, I don't mind being a pig, cause, for your information, pigs are really intelligent, actually.


NEIL: Yeah, like dolphins.

RICK: Oh, so they are, are they? Well, tell me, Neil. Who invented the internal combustion engine? Was it Porky the Pig? No, it was Lincoln Rawls, wasn't it?! And the Theory of Relativity. Was Pythagoras a pig? No, he was a Greek, wasn't he? So tell me, Neil. You're the expert. [grabs the cups] What's the major piggie contribution to civilization?

NEIL: Ummm.... [pause, thinking]

RICK: It's bacon, isn't it? Bacon and rooling around in the mud. Look out, Michaelangelo, here comes the new piggie Renaissance!

VYVYAN: Good morning, everybody. [Denotates the dynamite] I just don't seem to be able to get rid of this hangover.

RICK: Well, that'll teach you to mix your drinks!

BALOWSKI: Excuse me, is this a cheese shop?

SALESMAN: No, sir.

BALOWSKI: Well, that sketch's knackered then, innit?

RICK: I said, that'll teach you to mix your drinks!

VYVYAN: I already know how to mix my drinks, Rick.

MIKE: Yeah. Paint stripper and bleach. Lethal.

VYVYAN: Eenie, meenie, meinie, mo. Oh, by the way, there's a couple of strange girls in the bathroom.

NEIL: Yeah, I saw one of them. That's what I was going to tell you about earlier. That's the really freaky thing.

MIKE: Oh, don't worry about it, Neil. She probably got lost on the way to my room.

RICK: I very much doubt it, actually, Mike. Because, as a matter of interest, everybody, the girl in question is with me!


BUNNY: Hello! Hello! Easter eggs all around! [Gives eggs to Mike and Vyv] Hello, everybody! I'm the Easter Bunny!

RICK: But it's June the 12th.

BUNNY: What?

VYVYAN: It's the middle of summer, big ears!

BUNNY: [dejected] Oh, God, I'm sorry. [takes eggs back] I'm really sorry. [Leaves]

MIKE, VYVYAN, NEIL: [to Rick, together] Eh?

NEIL: You mean, you, like, scored with a chick?

RICK: Well, of course, I wouldn't put it in such sexist terms, Neil, but yes.

MIKE: Now, wait a minute, Rick. I'm the one who gets the girls around here. There could be a copyright problem.

VYVYAN: [sits on the chair] But I don't understand. How? Was she unconscious?

RICK: What, Vyvyan? Do I detect a little spark of jealousy?

VYVYAN: Ha! I'm not jealous. I find the idea of spending a night with you completely revolting!

RICK: You know perfectly well what I mean. Just because I was the most wanted and attractive guy at the party last night...

NEIL: What do you mean, Rick? You passed out after half a glass of cider.

RICK: Did I? Well, that's a bit anarchic! Anyway, it just goes to show you, Neil. Even when I'm unconscious, I can pick up the birds. I mean, forge meaningful relationships with birds...chicks...tarts...women. Women!

VYVYAN: I must be hallucinating. What's good for a hangover?

MIKE: Drinking heavily the night before.

NEIL: Was it, like, was it the first time you...?

RICK: [laughs] How could you think such a thing, my first time! Ha!

NEIL: What was it like? [his head nods with excitement]

RICK: [pause] Well, you was sort know.

NEIL: [still nodding] No, I don't.

RICK: Well, it was sort of [pause] sexy.

VYVYAN: Oh, God. I think I'm going to be violently and copiously sick.

NEIL: Go into, like, really lengthy and vivid detail about the whole thing.

VYVYAN: First, I'm going to bend over and open my mouth. Then I'm going to wretch until the muscles in my ailmentary canal go into spasm...

NEIL: No, not you, Vyvyan! Rick! I wanna hear about it, like, blow by blow!

RICK: Eh? [laughs, gets the joke] Well, what can I say? Have you got a spare couple of days?

NEIL: Yeah.

RICK: Well, what can I say? It was amazing.

Pretty amazing, and we did everything.

MIKE: [into the mike] Like what?

RICK: Like everything! At one stage, she even took her bra off! So I took my dungarees off, and...

VYVYAN: There's those girls!

NEIL: Hello.

RICK: Good morning.

MIKE: Hello, baby. What do you want for breakfast?

RICK: Shut up, Mike. [to Helen] I didn't hear you come in.

HELEN: Well, I did.

RICK: Come in. [sees she's in] Uh, er, sit down. [sees she's already sitting] Uh, have some breakfast. Let me introduce you to everybody.

MIKE: [takes out a box of cornflakes, dumps it out on the table. A toy elephant is lying in the middle of the pile] Last one to find the jungle animal takes off all their clothes.

All right, your turn.

RICK: [laughs] This is Michael. [motions to Neil] This is Neil. [points to Vyvyan] That's Vyvyan, being sick. Guys, this is...[realizes he doesn't know her name, mumbles]

HELEN: Who are you?

RICK: God, it's all so casual, isn't it? [whispers to Helen] It's Rick. Rick.

NEIL: It's a nice day for it, isn't it? Oh, no, I didn't mean for It. I meant, it's a nice day for weather.

RICK: [excited] Come on, Neil! Get on with the breakfast! Honestly, we haven't got all day!

VYVYAN: Yes, we have.

RICK: What?

MIKE: He's right, Rick. It's Sunday, we have got all day.

RICK: That's not really the point. [motions to Neil to the cupboards] That's not what I'm trying to say.

NEIL: What's the matter, Rick?

RICK: [very mad] Nothing. I'll just go make the breakfast, shall I?

MIKE: [gets a stare from Helen] I know what you're thinking, baby. And if I was the telly, you'd think I was talking in centimetres.

HELEN: I'm sorry?

MIKE: I'll bet you are. So there's always tonight. What'd you say your name was?

HELEN: Promise you won't laugh? [Mike nods] It's Helen. [Vyvyan laughs, but Mike stops him] Sounds like the kind of name someone would give to someone who looks as if they'd been to Hell and back, isn't it? [Vyvyan is really confused] It's prestigiously embarassing. Still, at least my surname isn't Back. It'd be awful, wouldn't it? Helen Back. [pause] My surname is Mucous.

RICK: Get down and groove! We dance all day in this house! [turns the radio on, but a Gregorian chant is playing] Vyvyan, are you dancing?

VYVYAN: You asking?

RICK: I'm asking.

VYVYAN: Well, piss off!

[goes back to staring at Helen's chest. Rick shuts the radio off.]

HELEN: I hope I'm not putting you all out.

MIKE, NEIL, VYVYAN, RICK: [together] No!

HELEN: I hope you don't mind me spending the night, but I was desperate for somewhere to stay. And when I saw you had all gone away for the weekend, I climbed in the kitchen window, found an empty bed, and went to sleep.

MIKE, NEIL, VYVYAN: [together] Eh?

RICK: No, no, no, darling. No. It wasn't an empty bed, was it? Cause I was in there.

HELEN: Were you? You weren't when I woke up.

NEIL: Rick, you bloody liar! You said you done it to her...[to Helen] He said he done it to you!

RICK: Look, there's obviously been some ghastly misunderstanding.

VYVYAN: [stands] Ha ha ha ha ha! Rick is still a virgin!

RICK: I'm not! I am not a virgin!

VYVYAN: Virgin! Virgin! Virgin!

RICK: I am not!

That'll teach you to cast aspersions on my sexuality, Vyvyan! Now then, who wants a hard-boiled egg?

VYVYAN: Virgin! Virgin!!

MIKE: I'll have a boiled egg, Rick!

RADIO ANNOUNCER: We interrupt this program to bring you an emergency news flash. A dangerous and violent murderess has escaped from a maximum security jail and is on the loose in your area.

BILLY: So keep your doors and windows locked! This is Captain Blood Radio, broadcasting to you from 20 degrees south and 45 degrees west of Dead Man's Island, on the Spanish Main in the Medium Wave area. And the fishing is good tonight, with the time coming up on [turns over an hourglass] two inches. My name is Billy Glood, and you're listening to the Dull Religious Music Program. [puts a record on, stops talking in a "DJ" voice] Yo ho ho, my ass! That it should come to this. [A knock at the door. Billy takes a drink from a shot glass] Enter! [A black man comes in, wearing a Revolutionary War uniform and hat] Ah, Fletcher!

SMYTHE: No, sir. Smythe, the bo'sun, sir.

BILLY: Ah, you're right. Can't see a thing with this damn patch on. [Lifts patch] Ah, you're a strapping young lad. Why don't you come sit on your Uncle Billy's knee?

SMYTHE: [takes off his hat] Aye aye, sir.

BILLY: Aye aye sir?! What the devil'd you mean by that?! Was that some kind of joke to my ocular capacity?!

SMYTHE: No, Captain.

BILLY: Well, I'll show you what we do with insubordination on my ship!


SMYTHE: [pretends to enter, but he's already in] Yes, sir!

BILLY: There you are! Take this man out and flog him.

SMYTHE: Very good, Captain.

BILLY: Well?

SMYTHE: I flogged him, sir.

BILLY: How much did you get? [Both laugh]

SMYTHE: He'll rue the day he ever came to see you, sir.

BILLY: See?! See what?! Huh? Was he blind?!

SMYTHE: No, Captain, I meant to say.

PARROT: [in corner] He don't see nothing, you fat old cyclops!

BILLY: Who said that?

SMYTHE: That wasn't me. That was your parrot.

BILLY: Parrot? I don't have a parrot! Why, I hate the creatures! Horrible, small, flying things, hopping around, breeding and eating carrots!

BILLY: Next you'll be telling me I've got a talking dog!

UL>[The room starts to shake violently.]

NEIL: [shaking the radio] No, it's definitely knackered. I can hear something rattling around inside.

HELEN: Oh, dear, I am sorry. I don't know how I managed to spill tea on it from this distance.

NEIL: Yeah! It was weird. You just seemed to, like, pick up the cup and violently throw it at the radio.

HELEN: I am sorry. I really must apologize.

MIKE: Oh, don't worry. Neil does it all the time.

HELEN: Throws cups?

MIKE: No, he apologizes.

NEIL: Hang on, hang on. I think I've fixed it.

RADIO ANNOUNCER: [sounding very stern and serious] Good afternoon. This is the objective and strictly impartial BBC World Service, operating on behalf of the Conservative Party. And now a news flash...

NEIL: Ooooh! [A cup hits him in the head and knocks him out again]

HELEN: Oh, dear! How clumsy of me. It seems like I've done it again. What can I say?

MIKE: How about, "Oh Mike, please put your hand up my skirt".

RADIO ANNOUNCER: [the radio is lying in Neil's prone hand] Excuse me, but there is a news flash, if anybody is listening.

MIKE: Hey, that's a good idea! Why don't we go upstairs and have breakfast in bed?

RICK: I am not a virgin!

VYVYAN: Virgin! Virgin!

MIKE: Maybe we could stay here for bed in breakfast.

RICK: I am not a virgin! I'm not a virgin! All right, all right. All right [Vyvyan stops hitting him], if I'm a virgin, how come I know what a girl's bottom looks like?

VYVYAN: [pause] From looking in the mirror.

RICK: Damn! [Vyvyan starts flailing away on Rick again]

RADIO ANNOUNCER: As I've been trying to tell you for the last ten minutes, that girl with her hands over Mike's ears is a dangerous murderer!

MIKE: That's it, baby. Treat me rough.

RADIO ANNOUNCER: No, no, a murderer! [Vyvyan grabs the radio] That's better. [Vyvyan hits Rick with the radio] No! [Rick grabs the radio, throws it at Vyvyan, but misses] No, no, you idiot, I'm your last hope!

VYVYAN: [flips Rick the "V-salute] Missed me, virgin!

RICK: I'm not a virgin! [Picks up a chair threateningly]

NEIL: [gets up] Hey, I've just heard something amazingly heavy on the radio!

VYVYAN: Virgin! Virgin! Virgin!

RICK: I am not!

NEIL: [looks up] Oh, no. The light bulb's gone.

RICK: Well, I'm not surprised, considering you smell so much!

MIKE: Rick, I don't wish to suggest your jokes are predictable, but there are as-of-yet undiscovered tribes in the heart of the Peruvian jungle, who knew you were going to say that.

LIGHT BULB: [walking out of the house] Strange thing is, Rick's right! That hippie really does bomb!

NEIL: Here's a joke for you, Rick. How many people, who live in this house, right, does it take to change a light bulb? One. Me. Cause I'm the only person who ever does anything around here!

RICK: Oh, yeah. What about Amazulu?

MIKE: This is our song, baby. Let's dance.

RICK: [kicks Neil's prone body] Neil, are you going to change the light bulb or not? Cause, quite frankly, me and Mike are getting pretty sick of your laziness!

VYVYAN: Yeah! And me!

RICK: And, um, yes, Thing.

VYVYAN: [standing on a ladder] Yes, that was very sweet. But can you get out now? We're trying to change the light bulb.

RICK: Thank you. Thank you. [pause] We're waiting!

RICK: Stop sniveling, Neil. It's because of you the light bulb went in the first place.

NEIL: I still don't see why we can't use the stepladder.

VYVYAN: Honestly, Neil. Of all the stupid ideas.

MIKE: Don't worry, Neil. We've worked everything out to the minutest detail. Your angle of trajection, your specific velocity...

VYVYAN: Where to bury you.

MIKE: Where to bury you. [laughs] No, no, no...

VYVYAN: [laughs] No, no, no.

MIKE: Only joking, Neil. God bless you. You saw the dummy run with did with a sack of potatoes.

NEIL: That wasn't a sack of potatoes, Mike. It was a packet of smash!

MIKE: And everyone knows that's better than real potatoes. That's exactly what I mean.

VYVYAN: And what's the problem, Neil? The dummy run was a complete success!

NEIL: What do you mean? The packet was smashed into 15 million pieces! And every single one of those pieces was smashed into 15 million pieces. And, although at that point I stopped counting, I wouldn't be surprised if...

VYVYAN: Exactly, Neil. And you are a totally different size and weight than a packet of smash, so we should be all right.

RICK: Please, please, can we get on with it? What's all the fuss about? It's only Neil, for Cliff's sake.

MIKE: OK, don't worry, Neil. And remember, as you pass the light fitting, change the bulb. Ready, guys? Five...four...

MIKE, VYVYAN, RICK: [together] ...three...two...

MIKE: Don't worry, Neil. That won't effect your overall weight. Ready, guys? One!

NEIL: Oh, wow. Oh, no, this carpet really needs hoovering!

MIKE: [with the others, pulling on Neil's ankles] It's strange, but every time I pull at Neil's ankles, great flakes of crusty skin come off beneath my fingernails.

VYVYAN: That's only his cornflakes, Michael. He keeps them in his socks to stop me from stealing them.

RICK: I mark mine individiually with sticky labels.

VYVYAN: That doesn't worry me. I just eat the labels as well.

MIKE: Come on!

Ceiling may have fallen in but at least the light bulb's all right.

NEIL: Yeah! [Takes the replacement bulb out of his pocket. He never put it in.] Here it is, safe and sound.

VYVYAN: Where were we? [pause] Oh, yes. Virgin.

RICK: Yes.

VYVYAN: Virgin! Virgin!! [Chases Rick upstairs]

MIKE: [goes over to Helen, who examining herself in her compact] Here we are, baby. Ready for action, ready for fun, ready for love, and [checks his watch] it's only just gone one.

HELEN: Is that the time?

MIKE: No, time is an abstract concept. This is a wristwatch.

HELEN: I must be going. [starts to leave]

MIKE: Wait a minute! What's two foot long with a big round end?

HELEN: [pause, smiles coyly] I don't know.

MIKE: Neither do I, but I keep finding it in my cornflakes.

Now I'll never know.

NEIL: [gets up] Mike, Mike! Rick's pretend girlfriend has been crushed by a, sort of, medieval knight.

KNIGHT: Oh, roadie, doadie, doo-dah-day.

MIKE: That's all well and groovy, but why the fancy dress? And who are you?

KNIGHT: I'm a knight of the Square Table.

MIKE: Square Table?

KNIGHT: Well, you see, King Arthur didn't consider me cool and hip enough to be on the Round Table on account of some of my suits of armor have still got flares.

MIKE: Ah! Well, you can't get sqaurer than that.

NEIL: Shut up, Mike! [goes to Knight] Nothing wrong with flares.

KNIGHT: And also, I'm not really into war at all. Look!

[takes out a bouquet of flowers, puts it on his lance]

Flowers on the end of my lance.

NEIL: Ahhhhh.

KNIGHT: And if I ever have to fight a dragon, I'll try to look at it from the dragon's point of view.

NEIL: Oh, that's beautiful. Hippie knight.

KNIGHT: [takes out a club, hits Neil with it] Sorry, man. That's my job.

RICK: Vyv! Where did you get that howitzer?!

VYVYAN: Found it!

RICK: Well, you can just about bloomin' well put it back this instant, young man!

VYVYAN: I will, I will. Just as soon as I've blown you to pieces.

PEASANT #3: I bet, in one second, both of my legs will fall off!

PEASANT #1: All right, you're on.

PEASANT #2: One! [#3 kicks, but nothing happens]

PEASANT #3: That's the third cup of tea I've already lost today.

KNIGHT: Hey, everyone, there's a 20th Century pad back there, and they're giving away free damsels! Here, have one.

NEIL: Excuse me, but can you tell me when's the next bus?

RICK: Oh, no! Vyvyan! No! Please! You were right and I was wrong! I am a virgin!

VYVYAN: Not for long, matey.

NEIL: [sees the other peasants coming after him with sticks] Look, sorry about your relatives.

PEASANT: He's a sorcerer! [The townspeople start after him]

NEIL: No, I was just wondering where the bus stop had gone. The one that was where that hut is.

RICK: Here's 59 pence compensation for disagreeing with you.

VYVYAN: [takes the money] Thank you.

RICK: Yes, I'll get the T-shirts printed up first thing in the morning.

NEIL: [runs in, leans the door up against the frame, puts a chair in front of it] Barricade the door! Lock the windows! Pretend to be invisible! I've just committed a bit of a faux-pas.

MIKE: Neil, have you upset the neighbours?

NEIL: No, I've blown them up!

RICK: Wow! And who said Sunday was a day of rest?

VYVYAN: God did.

RICK: That's right. I knew it was someone Tory.

NEIL: I knew I shouldn't have touched that magpie.

RICK: God, Neil, you're so superstitious. Anyone would think we're living in the Middle Ages.

MIKE: [looks out the window] I don't want to worry you, but we are!

VYVYAN: What? [the others run to the window] Oh, no! It seems as though, mysteriously, the whole house has gone through some sort of time warp.

RICK: God, isn't is all simply enchanting? It's like one of those wonderful drawings by Roy Hill with lots of working-class people, thrashing about the place with pitchforks.

NEIL: Yeah! They look pretty angry, don't they?

RICK: Just think. No nuclear power, no pollution, no electric cables ruining the landscape...

MIKE, NEIL, VYVYAN, RICK: [together] No telly!

NEIL: Oh, no! I'll die if I miss Scooby Doo!

VYVYAN: Bloody right, Neil! Everybody panic!

NEIL: When you said panic, I didn't think you meant hang me.

VYVYAN: Rick, get the telly.

RICK: Right. [turns on the TV]

BALOWSKI: the battle between TV stations for higher ratings.

VYVYAN: You're very lucky, Neil.

BALOWSKI: ...because the BBC came back with "Strip Sex Nuclear Dance on Ice" with Torvill and Dean. Of course, ITV immediately came back with "Roll in the Racks, TV AM Public Executions". Cut his head off, yeah! [The backdrop starts to raise up] But now, we have...

PRINCESS: Jester Balowski's Medieval Torture Hour!

BALOWSKI: Yeah, medieval torture. And our first victim tonight is... Gwendolyn?

PRINCESS: Our first victim tonight is Pusspecker the Dull!

BALOWSKI: Come on down! Pusspecker, come here! Whoo hoo! Bursting for medieval torture. First question, are you nervous, Pusspecker?

PUSSPECKER: A little, Jester, yes.

BALOWSKI: [laughs] And apparently, you're married with one lovely daughter.

PUSSPECKER: That's right, Jester. Gwenneth.

BALOWSKI: Gwenneth. That's right. But unfortunately, she can't be with us tonight, can she?


BALOWSKI: No, because she's not very lovely at the moment.


BALOWSKI: No. Because she's got the plague at the moment, doesn't she?!


BALOWSKI: And her face is one enormous bag of pus!

PUSSPECKER: That's right, Jester. As a matter of fact, there is quite a funny story attached to that. Because she wanted to come along tonight, but her arms fell off.

BALOWSKI: I hope you're ready, so pay attention, because we'll be right back after this break.

Now, would you like to be tortured?

PUSSPECKER: [in unbelievable pain] Yeah, yeah!

BALOWSKI: Would you like some live scampi in your britches?

PUSSPECKER: That'd be nice. [Audience cheers]

BALOWSKI: Or would you like to have your eyes sucked out by a goat and replaced with some hot toffee apples? [More cheers] Well, it's completely bloody irrelevant anyway. Tell us, Pusspecker, exactly what was your crime?

PUSSPECKER: Wesleyan on a Tuesday, Jester. [Audience boos]

BALOWSKI: You bastard! We've got for you, later on, Pro-Celebrity Torture, in which today Toby Gruntsplatter, pain-giver for the court of King Edward the Optical Illusion

will be torturing a team comprised of Dennis Waterman's Show Business Eleven!

Including Sir Geoffrey Chaucer [old man waves], Sir Voltiger the Old Fart [Knight gives the peace sign], and Helen, the completely mad murderess!

RICK: Oh, no! The whole house has been surrounded by angry medieval peasants!

MIKE: They think we're witches, and they're going to burn us!

VYVYAN: We're completely trapped. The outlook is bleak!

NEIL: What're we going to do?

VYVYAN: [pause] Oh, who cares?

MIKE: Yeah.