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ACCIDENT

Series 1, Episode 6
October 29, 1991

Written by
ADRIAN EDMONDSON and RIK MAYALL

Richie:

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday, dear Richie, happy birthday to me. [emphasising to Eddie] Happy birrrrth-day to me. Happy birthday... DEAR... RICHIE.. Happy bi-irth-day to-o me!

Eddie:

Happy birthday, Richie.

Richie:

Thank you. Rather a bumper crop of cards this year! Popular guy, you see Eddie. Let's see, how many cards did you get for your birthday? Oh no, no, of course, how thoughtless of me, 'cause you didn't get any, did you?

Eddie:

Only because you glued up the letterbox.

Richie:

Now that's just sour grapes, Eddie, there was absolutely no proof that it was me.

Eddie:

Well, except you couldn't get your hands out of your pockets all day. Mind you, what's new?

Richie:

Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Ah! [reading card] 'May all your birthdays be happy ones, we like you more than Eddie.' Ah-haa. That's nice, isn't it? 'Terry Hardacre'. Ah-ha ha ha ha ha ha haa, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, he's written a little joke. 'Congratulations, it's your birthday, it's time for lots of fun...'

Both:

'So roll this card up nice and tight, and stick it up your bum.'

Richie:

Ah, ha ha ha ha ha, ah ha ha ha! He is a maaad man. Un-stoppable. Ah-ha-u-

Eddie:

That's the same card he sent last year, isn't it? Oh no, that's the same one he's sent for the last five years, actually. The same joke as well.

Richie:

Hmm-hm-hm-hmm. Ooh! I wonder who this one can be from?

Eddie:

That looks like the one from Sue Carpenter.

Richie:

Eddie, you must be psychic! It is, it's from Sue Carpenter. Good old Sue. [kisses the card, rotating as he does] Mmmmm-mmagh! Hah! I really must phone her up more often.

Eddie:

I don't think you should, Richie. They took out that injunction, remember?

Richie:

Ooh! Here's one from all the lads on the Ark Royal! Bless 'em, they never forget an old serviceman.

Eddie:

By 'serviceman' I take it you mean that time you got caught on board pretending to be the Captain, just to impress Ethel Cardew.

Richie:

It worked.

Eddie:

No, it didn't, she got off with the arresting officer!

Richie:

Yeah, well, it worked for him! Anyway, stop trying to spoil my birthday. Look, it says here, 'Best wishes from all the lads on the Ark Royal.'

Eddie:

But it's in your handwriting! You've been sending it to yourself for the last seven years! [pointing out] This ones from Rod Steiger, this ones from Abba, with 'Happy Christmas, 1973' written inside it, and this one's from 'The people of the Soviet Union, in grateful thanks to Comrade Richie.'

Richie:

It's in Russian.

Eddie:

You just put the R's the wrong way round!

Richie:

That's what Russian is!

Eddie:

Gaw! Every year we have to go through this ridiculous charade!

Richie:

God, you're weird aren't you? I mean, you're really weird. This is all because I accidentally ruined your birthday last year, isn't it? Well it wasn't my fault I got so terribly ill I had to order you to cancel your birthday party!

Eddie:

You weren't ill, you just ate a tin of curry powder and painted your face green. I knew it was a hoax, because the paint washed off when that enema backfired.

Richie:

[calmly] Okay, okay, okay. Let's sort this out. Now we're good friends Eddie, we've known each other for a long time, we can talk. And there is something I have been meaning to say to you for the last twenty-five years.

Eddie:

Ah! What's that?

Richie:

[exploding] I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Go away and crawl away and die in a ditch somewhere, you bastard!

Eddie:

It was just a joke!

Richie:

No it wasn't! ...Was it?

Eddie:

Of course it was! I know these cards are genuine. The guys from the Ark Royal, General Pinochet, I mean how could you fake something like that, ah ha-ha-ha-haaah! I was joking! I'm sorry.

Richie:

Are you?

Eddie:

Yes.

Richie:

Well, write it down then. Go on, there's a pen. Write down 'I'm sorry'. Write down 'I'm sorry, I am a twat.' Write down 'I'm sorry, I am a twat' ten times. I shall wait for you by the television until you're ready.

Eddie:

[Writing, with self-satisified look.] 'I'm sorry, I'm a twat. Ten times.'

[taking the paper to Richie] Here you go.

Richie:

[Richie takes the paper and reads it. A frustrated, angry expression crosses his face. He controls himself and tears the paper up.]

You're forgiven. And, you may come to my birthday party tonight.

Eddie:

Your what? I was going out tonight!

Richie:

What?

Eddie:

Yeah, I was going out with my real friends.

Richie:

Well... well, they can come too. So long as they bring a bottle and don't steal all my birds.

Eddie:

Well who on earth's coming to this party?

Richie:

Well, I don't know. Twenty or thirty of my close chums.

Eddie:

Who's confirmed?

Richie:

Oh, Eddie, you're so old-fashioned, ha ha. Nobody confirms invites these days. They just, sort of, turn up when they feel like it. It's a very informal, easy-going sort of arrangement, I very much approve. It's a breath of fresh air if you ask me.

Eddie:

So no one's confirmed.

Richie:

That's right. No one. [mock enthusiasm] 'S great.

Eddie:

Hmm.

Richie:

Oh! By the way, Eddie! Ah-hha-hha-hha-hhhha-hha!

[Richie thrusts his hand out towards Eddie. Richie being seated, Eddie standing, Richie's hand reaching out at approximately waist level.]

Eddie:

[startled] What are you doing now?

Richie:

Happy birthday to me...

Eddie:

Hah! I see. Ha-ha ha. Happy Birthday Richie. [hands Richie a little wrapped package]

Richie:

Oh, Eddie, you shouldn't have! You know I don't like anyone to make a fuss of my birthday! [serious] It's a bit small, isn't it? Is this how much you value our relationship? Bu- oh well, what the hell, I may as well be nice about it. [excited again] Hah. Ooh, I wonder what it is? [unwrapping] Ooh-hoo-ho, oohh it's a comb! It's my comb. It's my comb that I lost last week.

Eddie:

And now I'm giving it back to you! Happy Birthday!

Richie:

[furious] Look, this isn't some sort of joke you know. This is my birthday. You take this wrapping paper and you get me something good, or else.

Eddie:

All right. [moves into the livingroom and then returns] All right. Happy Birthday! [hands another wrapped gift to richie]

Richie:

Ooh-hoo-hoo, that's a bit more like it, that's bigger isn't it? Ooh, I wonder what it is, I wonder what it is... [unwrapping] It's... it's the remote control from the television set.

Eddie:

That's right. What d'you want to watch, Birthday Boy?

Richie:

Right. That's it, Eddie, this time you have really overstepped the mark. It's a fight.

Eddie:

Hang on, hang on, hang on, hang on. I've got your real present here. [holds up a bit of paper, Richie takes it]

Richie:

It's a piece of paper. It is a SMALL piece of paper.

Eddie:

Read it.

Richie:

'Madame Swish, three-thirty.'

Oh! Eddie! You haven't? Oh, what a pal you are. 'Madame Swish'. Ooh-err! Hohh, God, at last I'm really going to do it. And on my birthday as well! Ohhhggh, I wonder what she's like?

Eddie:

She's a dead cert mate, a real stayer.

Richie:

Really?

Eddie:

Yeah, she'll come first.

Richie:

What, before me? Good grief, that's quick. So she'll think I'm great! Oh, what a pal you are! And it's all paid for?

Eddie:

Um, not exactly, I need a tenner.

Richie:

A tenner. Right. That's quite cheap, isn't it?

Eddie:

Er, well, no, in that case it's a tenner each way.

Richie:

Well, how many ways are there!

Eddie:

Well, you'll come first, second or third, won't you?

Richie:

Well how many people are going to be there?

Eddie:

Well, a few thousand.

Richie:

What?!

Eddie:

Well, it's Kempton.

Richie:

Kempton? I can't get down to Kempton by three-thirty!

Eddie:

You don't have to, mate, it'll be on the telly!

Richie:

They're going to televise it!? Well, what if my auntie's watching!

Eddie:

Well what's illegal about betting on a horse?

Richie:

A horse?

Eddie:

Yeah.

Richie:

'Madame Swish' is, is, is a horse?

Eddie:

Yeah! Well, what did you think it was?

Richie:

Oh, no, nothing, nothing. Just checking.

Eddie:

I have given you a red hot tip.

Richie:

I know, and there's nothing I can do about it now, is there!

Eddie:

That horse is an absolute cert mate, it's a fantastic birthday present.

Richie:

All right, I'm sorry, Eddie, I'm sorry. I was just, just being silly. Well, how much should I put on it?

Eddie:

Give us twenty quid and I'll see what I can do.

Richie:

Okay. There you are, old mate.

Eddie:

Thanks mate! Happy Birthday!

[Eddie rushes out clutching the money.]

Richie:

Happy birthday to me, da da da, hap-py birthday. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday...

[He looks up the skirt of the fairy he is hanging up, then notices Eddie coming in and puts it back.]

Happy birthday to me... ooh, careful Eddie! Well, did we win?

Eddie:

Nope, we lost.

Richie:

Damn!

Eddie:

Only joking.

Richie:

You mean we won?

Eddie:

Yep-indeedy-do!

Richie:

Fan-tastic! I knew I was great. What were the odds?

Eddie:

Ten to one.

Richie:

Ten to one! Ooh! Is that good?

Eddie:

Well, ah, you gave me ten, didn't you?

Richie:

Yeah.

Eddie:

So, you get one. Ten... to one.

Richie:

Brilliant! What a fantastic birthday present. Here, hang on, hang o-o-o-on! I gave you two tenners.

Eddie:

Ah, ha ha ha ha. Caught me out, eh?

Richie:

Yeah, you don't get much past old Richie!

Eddie:

Yeah, you're right there!

[Eddie slyly tucks a thick wad of notes into his jacket pocket.]

Here's your other quid.

Richie:

Great! Two quid, I knew today was my lucky day! Toss it over. Huh, huh...

[Richie grabs for the money and falls off the ladder.]

Ow, oh god, oh... Shit, what's that doing there? Huh, Eddie, Eddie! Awww! Eddie, my leg's pointing the wrong way!

Eddie:

Well, point it the right way!

Richie:

Owww! Hw-awww! I can't!

Eddie:

Hang on, I'll give you a hand.

[Eddie tries to push Richie's leg back into position, with terrible crunching noises.]

Richie:

Eddie, no!

Eddie:

Hang on, I'll try from a different angle.

Richie:

Okay... Haaaaghh!

Eddie:

It's no good, it won't budge.

Richie:

Get the ambulance!

Eddie:

We haven't got an ambulance. No, we don't need one because I've just had a fantastic idea.

Richie:

Oh god, oh god, oh god, I'll never walk again. I'll never play tennis. You'll have to carry me to the toilet. Hoorgh! You'll see my knob!

[Eddie ties a rope between Richie's leg and the open door.]

Eddie:

Now, just relax, because you might feel a moment's discomfort.

Richie:

Okay.

[Eddie slams the door. Richie is dragged across the room and bangs his head on the door. A decoration above falls and smashes on his head. Cut to a view of an ambulance's flashing blue light.]

Richie:

Aargh! No, no! Forwards, Eddie, stop, stop, stop! I'm stuck, I'm stuck! Right, I'm fine here, just leave it here, that's fine Eddie. No!

[Richie's plastered leg is stuck under the table. Eddie comes around and pushes it down.]

That's fine, that's fine. Hoh, god, thank god we're home. I couldn't believe that nurse... all I said was 'Hello, have you seen "The Singing Detective"?' and she twatted me with a kidney dish! Right, what time is it?

Eddie:

It's, er, exactly thirty seconds to seven o'clock!

Richie:

Is it? Damn! I've got no time to put on my 'Girl Bait' underpants! Right, give us a count-down of the final few seconds, old mate.

Eddie:

Okey-dokey. Five, four, three, two, one, zero.

[Eddie opens the door.]

Richie:

Hiiiii-ahh. [Richie breaks off his greetings seeing there's no one there.] Right, well, that's it, it's a disaster, isn't it? Well, it's a simple equation, I haven't got any friends so I'm going to kill myself. Eddie, go upstairs and get the razor blades.

Eddie:

Right you are, old mate. Er, what do you want, safety or non-safety?

[Eddie goes upstairs. Richie looks confused. There is a knock on the door.]

Richie:

Oh, no! Hurrah! They're here at last, ah-ha, playing the old 'I'm late' gag to the hilt, huh. What great mates I've got. [Wheeling himself down the hallway] Wait, I'm coming, I'm coming! Had an accident, I'm not very quick. Don't go. Don't go away. Here I am! Ung, ung, ung, ungh... [opens front door] Welcome one, and welcome all! Who on earth are you?

Spudgun:

Erm, sorry, we seem to have come to the wrong house.

Hedgehog:

We're looking for Chopper Hitler.

Richie:

'Chopper'? Is there something I don't know, Eddie? [Eddie is coming back down the stairs.]

Eddie:

'Allo boys, come on in!

Richie:

What?

[Eddie pushes Richie aside. His plastered leg crashes through a door.]

Eddie:

[back in the flat] Never mind him, he's just waiting for his mates to turn up. Right, here we go then, here's the punch, get stuck in.

Spudgun:

Thanks, Eddie. Here, my wife's gone to the West Indies.

Eddie:

I didn't know that.

Spudgun:

Yeah, she went on Tuesday. Ah, it's funnier in the pub.

Eddie:

You not having a drink?

Hedgehog:

Well, we haven't got time, have we, not if we're going to this party.

Eddie:

No, I'm afraid this is the party.

Hedgehog:

Ah!

Richie:

[Wheeling up behind] Excuse me. Excuse me! Could you put that down please? Just put that down.

Hedgehog:

Why, what's wrong with it?

Richie:

Never mind that. Could I have your names please?

Eddie:

Richie! These are my friends that you said I could invite. Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog.

Richie:

Oh. Well. This is rather difficult for me because, you see, you've only really been half-invited. You're not on the 'A' list. But, as it is my birthday, yes, I will let you stay. But I'm afraid I can't really let you stay properly, so, er, I'm going to have to ask you to go and stand in that corner please. Go on, quicker. [Eddie, Spudgun and Hedgehog retreat to a corner with their drinks] Right, now that's fine. Now stay there. If you want to go to the toilet put your hand up. I'm just going to go and see if anyone's come yet.

Spudgun:

I see they've put up a new 'Give Way' sign at the junction then.

Eddie:

Yeah.

Richie:

Excuse me, d-d-d-d-d-dddhh! Could you just keep it down a bit please? Good grief!

Spudgun:

Yeah, they, er, painted the road markings to match, did you see that?

Eddie:

Oh I did, yeah.

Hedgehog:

Yeah, I did too.

Richie:

For Christ's sake! Can't you keep a lid on it for a moment? I can't hear if anyone's knocking on the door or not. There could be thousands of them all queuing up on the stairs by now, oh Christ! I suppose I'll just have to go and check. And no wandering into the middle of the room while I'm away.

[Spudgun puts up his hand just as Richie leaves.]

Spudgun:

Is he going to be a long time?

Eddie:

I'd do it in your glass mate.

[Spudgun turns away facing the corner. Richie calls down the stairs.]

Richie:

Hello? Is anyone coming? [He sighs.] Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me-e, happy birthday to me. [Loudly.] I'm sorry, you can't come in, it distinctly said on the invite 'no jeans'! And you, where's your bottle? Well you can't come in either then. And you twenty birds... I told you 'no bikinis'! Bugger off! In fact I've decided none of you can come in. That's right, all two thousand of you, bugger off! I've decided I'd rather play with Eddie and his great mates. [He knocks on the door.] Yes? Well, I don't care if you are Valerie Singleton in the nude, bugger off!

[Richie slams the door and goes back into the room. Spudgun is holding a full glass.]

Eddie:

[to Spudgun] I think you should see a doctor, mate.

Richie:

Guys, guys! I have fixed it. Come on out of the corner... I've fixed it so you don't have to stay there any more. I don't know if you overheard me at all or not, but I told everyone else to go away. Yeah, yeah, I did. I thought, you know, let's just have a nice little private party. Me, and Eddie, and his two great mates. I mean, we're the hard-core, aren't we? Come on, drinks all round. So, er, er, mate. Erm, tell me about this road sign... sounds great!

Spudgun:

Is it all right to talk, Eddie?

Eddie:

Yeah.

Spudgun:

Well, they put up this new road sign which says 'Give Way'. But, like, the thing is, the old one said 'Give Way' as well, so there's no real difference, they're just the same. So, what I was saying was, why did they put up the new one? And I mean everything would have been just the same.

[Richie nods absently, and then notices Spudgun has finished.]

Richie:

Oh oh oh, ha ha ha ha ha haa! Fantastic, that's incredible! We're really the guys, aren't we? Hey, I know, let's all get completely drunk and play 'Postman's Knock'! Where's that sherry?

[He picks up Spudgun's glass and drinks from it. He gets about half-way down.]

It's a bit warm, isn't it?

Spudgun:

So, er, what's 'Postman's Knock' then?

Richie:

Oh! Right. Well, well mate...

[Richie picks out something from between his teeth.]

What's your name again?

Spudgun:

Spudgun.

Richie:

Spudgun. Why do they call you Spudgun?

Spudgun:

Well, give me a potato and I'll show you why.

Eddie:

Don't, Richie, you don't want to see that.

Richie:

Well, why do they call you Hedgehog?

Hedgehog:

Give me a hedgehog and I'll show you why.

Eddie:

Well, why don't we just move on, eh? What are the rules of this fantastic 'Postman's Knock'?

Richie:

Oh, right, it's great! Right, all the birds sit round in a vast circle, right? Then I go out in the hall and one by one all the birds come out and snog me. [noticing there's no birds] Right, so we'll give that one a miss shall we? I know, what about 'Sardines'?

Spudgun:

What about 'em?

Hedgehog:

Well, they're a kind of fish, aren't they?

Richie:

Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haa, that's right, they are! Ah ha ha ha haa. We're all incredible, aren't we? Ha ha ha. What a great time we're having. No, but let's be sensible for a moment and sort out the rules. Right. 'Sardines' is a game, right? One of us goes outside and hides and all the others have to come and look for him. But, when they find him, they hide with him. And, they snog with him... If they want to... Er, if they're a bird, right, which we're not. So we probably won't. Well, I don't know, give it a try... no, we won't give it a try. Okay, so, who wants to go and hide? Me! Ha ha, fooled you there! Right, close your eyes and off we go. [To Hedgehog.] Close your eyes. [slapping him on the arm] Just stop peeking, will you! Look, I know we're great mates, but you've got to do things properly. All right, okay, here goes.

[Richie wheels himself around the room trying to find somewhere to hide, his wheelchair can't fit under the table..]

Ha, ungh, ungh, ungh, oh damn, ungh, no good. Um, um, ah, no... [whispering to Eddie] Eddie, Eddie, you've got to take me upstairs and hide me in the cupboard.

Eddie:

What?

Richie:

You've got to take me upstairs and hide me in the cupboard. I can't get upstairs by myself.

Eddie:

I can't get you up the stairs on my own!

Richie:

Well, ask your great mates to help me.

Eddie:

Ah, [to Spudgun and Hedgehog] right, we've got to take him upstairs and hide him in the cupboard.

Richie:

No, no, don't tell them, don't tell them! Just tell them to keep their eyes closed, we're going somewhere secret.

Eddie:

Right. Um, you've got to keep your eyes closed because it's a secret that we're going to hide him in the cupboard. Okay? Right, let's go.

[Spudgun and Hedgehog drop their glasses and stagger blindly towards Richie.]

Richie:

Keep your eyes closed!

[They carry Richie up the stairs in his wheelchair.]

Careful, careful! Left a bit here. Steady guys. Keep your eyes closed. Eddie, keep your eyes closed. Come on, up we go, up we go. Come on, this is supposed to be fun! Okay. Oh careful, yes, keep your eyes closed, keep your eyes closed. Right, put me down. Good, right, this is going to be great. Wheel me backwards, backwards, backwards. Isn't it nice here in the cellar? Ha ha.

[They push him into the cupboard on the landing, he knocks his head on a shelf on the way in.]

Right, now keep your eyes closed, run downstairs and count to ten before you start, okay? Ow!

[They close the cupboard doors on Richie's leg cast and stumble off downstairs. Eddie falls over the banisters to the floor below.]

Eddie:

Right! One,

All:

Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Eddie:

Right. Well that's us safe for a couple of hours. What d'you fancy, lads?

Hedgehog:

Let's have a drink and watch the telly.

Spudgun:

Good idea.

Eddie:

Okey-dokey. Oh, great, look, it's 'War and Peace'! And it's only just started.

[They settle down with cans of beer. Some while later...]

Spudgun:

Oh, what a crap film. Knew it was going to end like that.

Hedgehog:

How d'you know that?

Spudgun:

I've seen it seventeen times.

Richie:

[In the cupboard upstairs.] Four hours twenty minutes! Fabulous! That must be a new 'Sardines' record. Wait 'til Norris McWhirter hears about this!

Announcer:

[on telly] Now on Open University, 'Medieval Population Distribution Patterns in Lower Saxony.'

Spudgun:

What did medieval people do before telly?

Hedgehog:

Well, they probably had their tea, didn't they?

Eddie:

No, before telly was invented.

Hedgehog:

Oh, they had cock-fights.

Spudgun:

And they all got the plague.

Eddie:

That's Bernard Manning, isn't it?

Hedgehog:

No, that's Julia Somerville.

Eddie:

Ah yeah, you're right.

Hedgehog:

I've done it with her.

Eddie:

What, Julia Somerville?

Hedgehog:

Yeah.

Spudgun:

Done what?

Hedgehog:

Watched the news.

[Later... the television is showing only static.]

Richie:

[still in cupboard upstairs] Right, that's five hours up! Got to be in the 'Guinness Book of Records' by now! Where on earth is everybody? I know I'm great at 'Sardines' but this is ridiculous.

[Later...]

Hedgehog:

That's it ain't it? That's our telly done for the night.

Eddie:

No, hang on, I've got me 'Emmerdale Farm' compilation on video if you fancy it.

Hedgehog:

Not 'arf!

Eddie:

All right, I'll get the drinks in.

Richie:

[In the cupboard.] Ah-hh ah-hh ah-hh, ah-hh ah-hh ah-hh-hah-hh!

[Later... Spudgun is spread out on the sofa asleep; Eddie and Hedgehog are sitting on the coffee-table, bottles in their hands, watching 'Emmerdale Farm'.]

Eddie:

That's him, that's the one! Bastard! I hate him.

Hedgehog:

Who?

Eddie:

No, that one there! The extra. He never says anything, he just drinks all day! Look at him, look! He's gonna buy another drink!

Hedgehog:

Is that his own money?

Eddie:

No! No. They fill his pockets full of change, push him into the Woolpack, and shout 'Go on mate! Drink as much as you like!' And then at closing time they give him a wage packet! Lucky bastard!

Richie:

[calling out, as if to give out a clue] I'm in the cupboard. I'm in the cupboard!

Eddie:

Oh bugger. Sounds like he's rumbled our game.

Richie:

[calling] Hello-oo!

Hedgehog:

What a bastard.

Eddie:

Well don't you worry. He can't get down the steps without us.

Richie:

[calling] Yo-del-leidi-yoo-hoo-aargh, arrg, whoarrgh! [terrible crashing sounds] Oh, oh, oh-uh, uuh, Eddie, my other leg! Eddie!

[Richie is in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, his other leg sticking upwards strangely. Eddie and Hedgehog look through the doorway at him.]

Eddie:

Here, Spudgun, come and have a look at this!

Richie:

Ahh, ahh, arhhh-no, no no!

Spudgun:

Urrggh... urgggh... bluergghhh! [Spudgun vomits all over Richie.]

[Cut to a view of an ambulance's flashing light again.]

Eddie:

So, he fell off the ladder and broke his leg. [Laughter] And then he had a bit of a motoring accident down the stairs and broke his other leg! [More laughter.] So I thought, well, we've got all this spare booze, why not have everyone round from the pub for a bit of a drink and a dance?

All:

Yeah!

Spudgun:

Here. Eddie, do your impression again.

Eddie:

All right, pass us that mop, mate.

[Eddie takes the head off the mop and puts it on his head for a wig.]

Right then. Obviously it'd be better with a lot of sweat. Right.

[whiny voice] 'Oh, oh, why won't anybody ever have it off with me? Maybe it's because I'm a big fat ugly bastard with a microscopic penis.'

[Richie comes in, both legs in plaster, in his wheelchair. Eddie takes the mop off his head quickly.]

Hello, Richie!

Richie:

What's going on here? Who are all these people?

Eddie:

Um, these are all your friends, Richie. They turned up!

Richie:

My friends? I don't know people like this.

Eddie:

Well all right, they're my friends. But it's still your party, no matter whose friends they are. Hey, everybody, the birthday boy's here! Hooray!

[General indifference.]

There you are, you see. Look how popular you are.

Richie:

Yeah, yeah! This is my birthday party, isn't it? It's a bloody brilliant one as well. Look, there must be a good, what, twelve people here. All right, let's get organised!

[Richie pulls the plug on the record-player. It grinds to a halt.]

Right, everybody, shut up, shut up! I'm here at last! Hello! Right, now let's get things sorted out. I want all the boys on this side with my birthday presents, and all the cracking birds on this side in an orderly queue ready to give me my big birthday kiss. All right? Come on, come on, look lively, you're supposed to be enjoying yourselves.

Man:

We were.

Richie:

Oh, you're the first one are you? Have you brought me a birthday present?

Man:

No.

Richie:

Ooh, you'll have to have a birthday forfeit then.

Man:

What do you mean, forfeit?

Richie:

This.

[Richie punches him in the face.]

Don't mess with the party animal! Hi bird! [To the man standing with her.] Get out, it's not your birthday. [To the girl.] Want to come for a ride with me? Hey, I'll tell you what. I know it looks like it, but that's not my leg in there!

[The girl's companion comes at Richie.]

Ah, no, no, no, no, you can't bash the birthday boy! Look at this. See that?

[He flicks the man in the crotch.]

Right, everybody! Now I've decided what I'd like to do on my birthday is play... Birthday Charades! So all you birds, come on, get your blouses off! You're first, mate.

Girl:

Ooh! Get your filthy hands off me, get off, get off!

Eddie:

[to Spudgun] I think we should call the ambulance now, what do you reckon?

Man:

What on earth are you doing with my bird? Watch it!

Richie:

I was just trying to grab her... who are you?

Man:

Who are you?

Richie:

Don't you know who I am?

Man:

No. Well, I mean you're obviously some sort of arsehole, aren't ya?

Richie:

I'll tell you who I am, mate. [pinching and twisting the man's arm] My name is Richard Richard, the birthday boy. And don't you ever forget it.

Man:

Right. You're the birthday boy are you?

Richie:

Yes.

Man:

Well maybe we should give you the bumps.

Richie:

Well, yes, I think you jolly well should.

Man:

Shall we give him the bumps?

All:

Yeah!

Richie:

[realising, as they gather around] No!

All:

Come on, come on...

Richie:

No!

All:

One..

Eddie:

Happy Birthday, Richie, break a leg!

Richie:

No, no... hwooh, arrghh!

[Richie goes upward, his plaster shatters. The screen freezes on his face screaming in pain. The titles roll.]