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BURGLARY

Series 2, Episode 3
October 15, 1992

Written by
ADRIAN EDMONDSON and RIK MAYALL

Richie:

What time d'you call this?

[Eddie looks on one wrist, then the other. No watch. He shrugs his shoulders and then remembers something important...]

Eddie:

Oh!

[He pulls up his trouser leg, revealing his watch strapped around his ankle.]

Eddie:

Ah... half past one.

Richie:

Where have you been?

Eddie:

I've been to a car swapping party.

Richie:

A car swapping party.

Eddie:

Yeah, it's great. All the men stand round in a circle and throw their wives in the middle. Then you pick the one you want, and she escorts you to your car.

Richie:

Eddie, you're not married.

Eddie:

I know, that's why I came home on the bus. It's parked outside.

Richie:

Marvellous banter, Eddie, I am bereft of ribs. Now perhaps we could dally with the truth for a while?

Eddie:

Er... oh, right, okay, erm... I was struck by lightning! Ah, and, er, et cetera.

Richie:

Four and a half hours ago you left to collect two fish suppers. I gave you one pound seventy-five in good faith. Where is my bit of halibut?

Eddie:

All right, here we go, right... One pound seventy-five, yeah, I remember that... Was that today? Well, I blame the town planners, it's socially irresponsible to put the Lamb & Flag bang next door to Neptune's Pantry!

Richie:

You mean...

Eddie:

Yes! [drops his coat and hat next to the hatstand] I have liquidised your assets!

Richie:

Eddie, sit down.

Eddie:

I am sitting down.

Richie:

No, you're not, you're squirling around the place like some sort of evil dervish.

Eddie:

Do you want a fight or what?

[He takes a swing at Richie, misses completely, and falls head-first onto the sofa, jamming his head down the back.]

[muffled] Hey, whoa, nice bit of interior design!... Hey, oh! [pulls himself out] I've just found a quid. Ha, I'm off out. Tell the wife I'll be home around eight.

Richie:

Whose wife?

Eddie:

Anybody's, I don't know where I'm going yet. Ta-ra!

[Eddie leaves, closing the door behind him. Richie sighs. Eddie comes in through the other door, looking puzzled.]

Eddie:

All right, I give in. Where's the front door gone?

Richie:

Eddie, HOW did you get this drunk on one pound seventy-five?

Eddie:

[conspiratorially] There's a sale on at the chemists.

[Richie gets a full blast of Eddie's breath and splutters.]

Richie:

What do you mean?

Eddie:

Old Spice, 25p a bottle!

[Richie sighs. Eddie winds up another punch, misses Richie again and crashes to the floor.]

Eddie:

Where'd the floor go?

Richie:

Oh, lordy lordy, every single night. Hah. Oh well. I shouldn't complain really, he's only ever been drunk once. Trouble is it's lasted seventeen years so far.

[Eddie has found the cupboard under the kitchen sink.]

Eddie:

Haaah... welcome to Eddie's bar! There you are, my little beauty!

[He takes out a bottle of bleach, swigs it, and tosses the empty bottle over his shoulder.]

Dah-haah! Hoh! That's better. [gestures as if calling a taxi] Taxi! The Copacobana!

[Eddie slowly topples over and falls unconscious on the floor.]

Richie:

No, n-n-not the bleach! Eddie! Eddie? [slaps his cheeks] Eddie! Right.

[Richie grabs the electric iron, yanks the plug out of the wall, tests that it is hot with his finger, and applies it to Eddie's cheek. Eddie grins in his sleep.]

Richie:

Right.

[He takes off his shoe and wiggles his toes over Eddie's nose.]

Richie:

Eddie... Eddieee... [no reaction] Bloody hell!... Hah. Well, that's just effing marvellous, isn't it? So, that's the fun evening in with the Scrabble and the fish supper, is it? Hoh! I don't know why I bother. I really don't. I've cleared the decks, I've hoovered, done all the ironing... I even had a go at flushing the toilet. Oh well. Off we go again. Ha. Why do I do it?... Because I'm a nice person, that's why. Righty-ho, where's the noose?

[He gets a length of rope out, fixes the noose at the end around Eddie's ankle, and walks upstairs, paying out rope behind him.]

Oh-ho. La-de-do-de-da... Well, thank you, Lord, for making me such a nice person. Yep, there's not many of us, are there... just me, Jesus and Mahatma Gandhi. And actually, I'm a lot nicer than them two. Ho ho... I mean, Jesus had his problems, but he didn't have to put Eddie to bed every night! Ho, here we go... hwoop!

[He throws the end of the rope up through the eye of a pulley fixed at the top of the stairs and gets ready to pull.]

Right, this is it... [sings] Do your balls hang low, can you swing them to and fro? Can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow? Do you get a funny feeling when they're hanging from the ceiling? Oh, you'll never be a sailor if your balls hang low!

[He pulls on the rope. Eddie slides out of the kitchen into the hall, where he gets stuck with one leg on either side of the banister. Richie keeps tugging. Eddie's crotch slams into the banister with a crunch.]

Eddie:

[drunkenly] Take it easy, Selina, we've got all night...

Richie:

Hoh, yo-ho, heave-ho!

[Richie hauls Eddie feet-first up the stairs.]

Eddie:

Do your worst, you slanty-eyed fiend, I'll never talk!

[Finally he gets to the top of the stairs, hanging upside-down from the pulley.]

Eddie:

Good evening, Your Majesty. I can see your pants from here!

Richie:

Ha.

[Richie takes a cricket bat, strokes its flat face, and wallops Eddie with it. Eddie flies through the air, landing on his feet at the top of the stairs.]

Eddie:

What? What? What?!

[Richie grabs his leg and slips the noose off his foot.]

Richie:

Bedtime Eddie, bedtime!

Eddie:

Right, bedtime. Right. Night-night.

Richie:

Yes, nighty-night!

[Eddie goes into his room and closes the door behind him.]

Richie:

Five, four, three, two, one...

[There is a huge crash from behind Eddie's door.]

Richie:

Right, well, nighty-night then. Ah...

[Richie suddenly has an idea... He unzips his fly, breathes on his palm to warm it up, and vanishes into his room flexing his fingers.]

Richie:

Eddie? Is that you, Eddie?

[A loud farty noise is heard from behind Eddie's door.]

Richie:

Oh my God, there's someone downstairs! [softly] Eddie! [taps on Eddie's door] Ed-die! Eddiee!

[Eddie opens the door and punches Richie.]

Eddie:

[shouting] What the bloody hell...

Richie:

No, no, no, no, no, shh shh, listen. Don't panic. But I think we've got some trouble... downstairs.

Eddie:

Well that's no reason to wake me up! Just change your underpants and see the doctor in the morning.

Richie:

No, Eddie, no! [more clattering downstairs] I think there's someone in the drawing-room.

Eddie:

The what-room?

Richie:

The drawing-room.

Eddie:

I don't think I've been in there. What, you mean we've got a room just for drawing in?

Richie:

You're so common, aren't you? What do you call it, the snug or the saloon or something?

Eddie:

Oh, the lounge!

Richie:

That's it! Yes, the laaunge! There's someone down in the laaunge!

Eddie:

Right, well that's that sorted out then. I'm off back to bed, I'll see you in the morning.

Richie:

Eddie, no, no! [more noises downstairs] Oh God, what are we going to do?

Eddie:

What about?

Richie:

The burglars!

Eddie:

You mean we've got burglars, downstairs, in the sketching-room?

Richie:

Yes.

Eddie:

[screams] Aaaaaarrrrrhh! Aaaaaaarrrhh! [Richie punches him] Aaaaaa! [and again] Okay, okay, okay!

Richie:

Alright now?

Eddie:

Yes.

Richie:

Good.

Eddie:

Thank you. Oh and Rich...

Richie:

Yeah? [Eddie punches him] All right now, settled?

Eddie:

Settled.

Richie:

Right. Now what are we going to do?

[Another tinkle of glass from downstairs.]

Eddie:

Shit our pants?

Richie:

No, I've already done that.

Eddie:

[flapping his hand to clear the air] Thought so.

Richie:

I'm onto stage two.

Eddie:

What about surrender?

Richie:

Good idea.

[They put their hands up in the air and start to walk to the stairs.]

Richie:

No, no, they might beat us up.

Eddie:

What, and cut our bodies into a thousand different pieces?

Richie:

And skin us alive.

Eddie:

Yes, and then put on our skins.

Richie:

Yeah, and do foul depraved lovemaking to our still twitching corpses.

Eddie:

Yeah, that's it... And eat our livers.

Richie:

Yeah, and drink our blood... ooh, ooh, and play cricket with our hearts!

Eddie:

Yes, using our love truncheons as wickets!

Richie:

Haaargh! And then do, do weird sort of pagan dancing flapping our skins about the room, and smearing naked girlies' breasts with our throbbing disintegrating brains!

Eddie:

It's not much of an option really, is it?

Richie:

Not really, no. Given the choice I'd skip it.

[More clattering noises from downstairs.]

Richie:

That sounded like the Chesterfield.

Eddie:

No, I don't think it was that far away.

Richie:

Eddie! What if they're looking for drugs?

Eddie:

Oooh! ...We haven't got any drugs.

Richie:

That's what I mean, they'll be here all night!

Eddie:

Well why don't we chuck a Lemsip down the stairs?

Richie:

Eddie, these are hard men. They've been snowballing heroin all night!

Eddie:

Aahhh!

Richie:

I don't think a hot lemony drink's gonna assuage their depraved cravings!

Eddie:

Got it! What about Bisodol? That should get 'em on the move.

Richie:

No, Eddie, there's only one thing for it. You're gonna have to go downstairs all on your own and fight them off and phone the police.

Eddie:

What? [runs into his room]

Richie:

Eddie, where are you going?

Eddie:

Leicester. Give me a call when it's all over.

[He closes the door. Richie sobs... Eddie comes out again with a gun in his hand.]

Eddie:

Only joking. It's very good for morale.

Richie:

Ah. Oooh! What's that?

Eddie:

It's my mother's old service revolver.

Richie:

Your mother's?

Eddie:

Yes, it was all I was bequeathed. She left me on the doorstep, just me, the carry-cot, and this old revolver. Oh, and a little note that said, 'Please look after my baby. I can't be bothered.' She was a wonderful mother.

Richie:

Eh? How do you know?

Eddie:

I saw the article in the Police Gazette.

Richie:

Ahh... Well, that's lovely, Eddie. Off you go, down the stairs, see 'em off.

Eddie:

Are you joking?

Richie:

Well what's the revolver for then?

Eddie:

Well, to shoot the lock off the roof hatch.

Richie:

Oh, good idea! ...Eh, well, look, why don't we just use the key?

Eddie:

God, it's always the same with you, isn't it? We come up against a problem and what do you do, you find the simple, sensible solution and everything's okey-dokey! I get one little chance in my whole lifetime to look a bit sexy, to look a bit like Clint Eastwood and... by the way, I don't want to be called Eddie any more, okay? I want to be called Dirty Eddie. Okay? So out of the way, punk, while I shoot off the lock!

Richie:

Look, Eddie, do you want to be skinned alive and buggered?

Eddie:

[pointing gun at Richie] I'd like to see you try!

Richie:

No no, I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the burglars. If you fire that gun they'll hear you. Come on, we'll just take the key, and we'll unlock the door. All right?

[Richie moves his legs as if to climb a ladder.]

Richie:

Well where's the ladder gone?

Eddie:

Well the police confiscated it, remember? When the nurses moved in next door.

Richie:

Ah, oh yeah. Well, never mind. You bend over and I'll climb on your back.

Eddie:

Okey-dokey, skip.

Richie:

Right... [climbs onto Eddie] Ah, careful, careful...

[There is a loud creak and crash of crockery downstairs.]

Eddie:

That sounds like the Sheffield.

Richie:

Look, Eddie...

[Richie falls off over the banisters, just managing to grab the hanging light over the top of the stairs.]

Richie:

Eddie, help!

Eddie:

Hang on, I'll switch the light on.

Richie:

Yeah... No, Eddie, no!

[Eddie switches on. Richie hangs on, twitching, as sparks fly, before letting go and dropping out of sight. There is a loud crash below.]

Richie:

[from below] Help, Eddie, they've got me!

Eddie:

Stand to one side!

[Eddie runs down the stairs, firing his revolver wildly in all directions.]

Burglar:

Arrrgh, aahh, ahhh...

Richie:

Oh, oh, Eddie, I've got one!

Eddie:

Don't worry, Richie, I've got you covered! Right, up you get, come on! Into the colouring-in room!

Richie:

Yeah!

Eddie:

Right, sit on that chair.

Richie:

Yeahhh!

Burglar:

Thank you.

Richie:

We did it, didn't we, we bloody well did it! Yeah, though you could take on us, did ya? Thought you could take on the Hammersmith Hard-men? Heh! I'm a Falklands veteran, you know! And Eddie here, Eddie's... got a very special type of gun.

[The barrel of the gun is splayed out in all directions, cartoon-style. Eddie hides it sheepishly.]

So, so watch it.

Burglar:

I think you've broken my rib! Gosh, you've got a big bottom.

Richie:

Right, Eddie, tie him up.

Eddie:

Yeah, yeah, tie him up. Give him a bit of his own medicine.

Richie:

Yeah, yeah! And then give him a bit of my medicine. [to burglar] And you don't know what I've got yet!

Eddie:

Yeah, tie him up! I can't seem to see the rope anywhere!

Richie:

[still to burglar] 'We can't seem to see the rope anywhere', scared?

Eddie:

Yeahhh! What about... Blutack?

Richie:

Yeahhhh... Well, no, 'cause that's a crap idea, isn't it?

Eddie:

Yeah! Just joshing, chief!

Richie:

Yeah, he was just toying with you, punky!

Eddie:

What about... [with a flourish] Sellotape?

Richie:

Do it to him, Eddie!

[Eddie starts winding Sellotape round and around the burglar's body.... The burglar is cocooned in Sellotape, with just his head free. His woolly hat is also wound with Sellotape.]

Richie:

All right. All right, buster, now I, I want some answers and I want them damn quick. ...But obviously not so quick that I can't understand what you're saying, okay?

Eddie:

[quietly, from the corner] Hey, Richie.

Richie:

Right, excuse me. [joins Eddie] Yes, what?

Eddie:

Shall I make him sweat, chief?

Richie:

How d'you mean?

Eddie:

You know... stick an overcoat on him, bung a hot-water-bottle down his trousers...

Richie:

No, no, Eddie, no, no, that's not the way. We've got to break him, psychologically.

Eddie:

Ah-ha.

Richie:

Watch this.

Eddie:

Right.

Richie:

[walks slowly over to the burglar] ...Hello. ...Excuse me. [back to Eddie] What do you actually have to say?

Eddie:

Oh, no, no, you don't say anything. You just slap 'em about a bit. [makes slapping gesture]

Richie:

Oh, oh good, all right. [slapping gesture] Hey, did you train for this sort of work?

Eddie:

No, but my uncle used to work in a prison.

Richie:

Oh, what did he do?

Eddie:

Oh, peel potatoes, sew mailbags, anything they told him to really.

Richie:

Right, slap him about a bit. [slapping gesture] Good, off I go! Do I look good? 'Cause I feel great!

[Eddie makes a wanking gesture as Richie walks away. Richie walks over to the burglar, flapping his hand, and then pinches him on the ear.]

Richie:

Ooohhhheeh! Hah! Okay, Eddie, take over! Break the mother!

Eddie:

What, has his mum turned up?

Richie:

Hh... no, no, no, no, question him!

Eddie:

Ah-ha.

[Eddie walks slowly over to the burglar, puts his foot up on the chair next to him, leans forward and looks him in the eyes.]

Eddie:

So... d'you see Emmerdale Farm last night?

Richie:

Eddie, Eddie, a word. [to burglar] Excuse us. [to Eddie] That's the wrong line of questioning!

Eddie:

What, you think he's more of a Brookside kind of man?

Richie:

No! God, you're a real embarrassment, aren't you? You're a real embarrassment. I mean, we're trying to look really great and hard and cool, and you're making us look like a couple of ridiculous git-faced scaredy-cat turnips!

Eddie:

But that's what we are!

Richie:

Well I know that, but we don't want him to know, do we? It'll undermine our power-base. Come on! ...Oh, this is ridiculous. Where are the real police? We can't be expected to deal with this! We haven't got the training. [walks to the phone and dials] Police, who d'you think! Hello? Haha, evening. It's eleven, Mafeking Parade. Yes, get some officers round here immediately because...

[Eddie has found a bag full of loot... silver candlesticks and the like.]

Eddie:

Richie!

Richie:

Because... [sees the loot] we... won't be needing them, er, there's no burglary here, sorry to trouble you, I must have been, er, sleep telephoning again. Hmm-hmm, night-night. [puts down phone and sighs] Christ, Eddie!

Eddie:

This must be worth thousands!

Richie:

Yeah! Let's keep it!

Eddie:

No, let's flog it off!

Richie:

Sell the flat.

Eddie:

Yes, bugger off to the Bahamas.

Richie:

Birds!

Eddie:

Booze!

Richie:

Breasts!

Eddie:

Bus-fulls of dusky young maidens...

Richie:

Fulfilling every sordid...

Eddie:

Whim!

Richie:

Yeeeah!

Eddie:

And a slap-up grill for two!

Richie:

A....Well, whatever takes your fancy.

Eddie:

Right!

Richie:

Let's go!

Both:

[singing] Whoop! We're going to Barbados, ololololo! Whoop!

Eddie:

Hey, wait a minute!

Richie:

What?

Eddie:

[pointing to the burglar] What about him?

Richie:

Damn. Right. Well, we'll have to... get rid of him somehow.

Eddie:

Well, nobody knows he's here. We could kill him.

[The burglar looks round nervously.]

Richie:

[to burglar] Excuse us a moment. Eddie, a word.

[Richie drags Eddie into the kitchen area and pulls the curtain across.]

Richie:

What did you just say?

Eddie:

Well, you know, he's outside the law, isn't he? I mean, he made the decision.

Richie:

Eddie, are you seriously suggesting that we murder this poor defenceless burglar without any trial or anything, just so as we can live the high-life in the Bahamas?

Eddie:

Yes.

Richie:

It's a bloody good idea! How shall we do it? I mean, how will you do it?

Eddie:

Well, I think we should give him the old fish fingers. They've been in there for months, they're absolutely lethal.

Richie:

Nahh, it's no good Eddie, we had them last Thursday.

Eddie:

Did we? Oh, I wondered why I lost three stones last week.

Richie:

Oh, that was you, was it? I've been trying to flush that thing for three days!

[Eddie shrugs apologetically.]

Richie:

Mind you, I like the poison motif though, that's very good... What about pigeon pellets?

Eddie:

Hmm... I don't think you actually die from eating pigeon poo.

Richie:

No, no, no, no, no, I mean the poison pellets the man from the Council bunged up there to get rid of the pigeons!

Eddie:

Good idea! Right, I'll put the kettle on, you get upstairs and grab a fistful.

Richie:

Ah, no, Eddie, no. No, it's too dangerous. You'll have to do it.

Eddie:

Why me?

Richie:

'Cause you're stupider than I am.

Eddie:

I wish I understood that.

Richie:

Hurry along then, that's the spirit.

[Eddie climbs out of the kitchen window, not noticing a black-clad figure lurking in the shadows further along the ledge.]

Eddie:

I wonder how this endeavour will end?

[Richie looks around the edge of the curtain to check on burglar.]

Richie:

Just making a cup of tea, Mr Burglar. Won't be long. [out of the window] How's it going, Eddie?

[Eddie is teetering at the edge of the kitchen's glass roof, trying to stretch out over it.]

Eddie:

Ah, well, it's a bit tricky. I can't quite reach it from here. And I think if I lean on it I'm gonna go through.

Richie:

Well, you'll just have to distribute your weight all at the same time. Just lower yourself softly over the entire area and it'll easily hold your weight.

Eddie:

Okay!

[Eddie spreads his arms and topples forwards, falling straight through into the kitchen in a shower of glass.]

Richie:

Well, did you get it?

[Eddie struggles to his feet, bleeding slightly from a cut on his head.]

Eddie:

Yep, here we go. Doesn't matter about the roof, does it? I mean, we'll be living in grass skirts from now on won't we?

Richie:

Yeah, ongy-doingy! Right. [calls] One lump or two, Mr Burglar? Hahahahaaaahhahaa...

Eddie:

Here we are... three cups of steaming hot tea!

Richie:

Right, let's do it.

[Richie takes the tray and they walk through into the lounge.]

Richie:

[to the burglar] Lovely evening. Right, Eddie, take off his gag.

[Eddie grabs the tape covering the burglars mouth and yanks it off, taking half the burglar's moustache with it.]

Burglar:

Arrrhhh!

Eddie:

Where's his moustache gone? [looks on the tape] Oh, ooh, there it is. Never mind, you won't be needing it anyway.

Richie:

Shhh! Eddie!

Burglar:

What does he mean, I won't be needing it anyway?

Richie:

Er... er, well, didn't you know? Eddie's completely insane. Ha! He doesn't mean anything by anything he says.

Eddie:

Yes, that's right. Ah, er-hooo-hooo! [tries to think of something crazy to say] Er, you're going to die!

Richie:

You see, complete gibberish. Hahahaha. Cup of tea, Mr Burglar? Oh, ah, Eddie, which one's got the, ah...

Eddie:

...The what?

[Richie gestures to a mug with his hand.]

Eddie:

What, the hand in it?

Richie:

No...

[Richie mimes a pigeon eating something and dropping down dead.]

Eddie:

The owl in it.

[Richie sighs.]

Burglar:

How many syllables?

Richie:

Oh look, just put his gag back on, will you, and come to the corner.

[Eddie does so.]

Richie:

[quietly] No, I mean which one's got the poison in it?

Eddie:

Choh! The yellow one!

Richie:

Right! ...Eddie?

Eddie:

Yes?

Richie:

They're all yellow.

Eddie:

Well it's bound to be one of them then.

Richie:

Yes, but which one?

Eddie:

Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha, the one with the poison in!

Richie:

Right, hold this would you?

[Eddie takes the tray. Richie picks up a pencil and fingers its point to make certain of it's sharpness.]

Richie:

Right.

[He pushes it slowly up Eddie's nostril.]

Richie:

Right, let's get on then, shall we? I'm sorry, Mr Burglar, but there's only one thing for it. you're going to have to drink all three cups. Eddie, take off his gag.

Burglar:

No, don't, don't, you've put something in it, no!

Richie:

Shut up and get the tea down, toy, will you?

[Eddie pours a cup of tea down the burglar.]

Richie:

That's it, another two.

[Richie holds the other two mugs as the burglar gulps down the tea.]

Burglar:

Ahhh!

[Eddie replaces his gag.]

Richie:

Right, well, this shouldn't take long. Let's have a little sit- down.

[They pull up chairs, one on either side of the burglar.]

Richie:

Ahhhhh! Ho ho ho!

Eddie:

Ha ha ha!

Richie:

Not all glamour, is it, this murdering business?

Burglar:

[muffled] Hhhmm!

Richie:

Oh, sorry, faux pas. Eddie, er, change the subject.

Eddie:

Er, ah, ha. Um, did you know that the common gnat, um, only lives for two hours but in its brief life it makes love a hundred and sixty-nine times?

Richie:

Oh, extraordinary. That's the mirror opposite of my life. [sighs] Oh, that old chestnut, love. Haha. Cor, I'm parched. Marvellous, isn't it? He's had three cups of tea and he's the burglar! How are you feeling by the way?

[Richie peels off the burglar's gag. The burglar vomits. There is a bang at the door.]

Voice:

[from outside] Police!

Richie:

[panicking] Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh! Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh! Hoh! Eddie, it's the bogeys! Hoh, hoh, right, right, ah, you hide the body and I'll get rid of the police. Hoh, hoh hoh!

[Richie goes to the front door, takes a deep breath, and opens it. Two policemen are standing outside.]

Richie:

Hello officer. Is something the matter? I was fast asleep.

Policeman:

We had a call saying you were being burgled, sir.

Richie:

Oh no. Ha ha. I've been sleep telephoning again, hahahahaha! Sorry to trouble you. Oh well, goodbye! [tries to close the door]

Policeman:

Do you mind if we come in, sir?

Richie:

Well, it's a little unexpected, I've got nothing in.

[The policeman pushes Richie out of the way. They walk into the flat. Eddie is sitting at the table holding a paper up over his face, trembling. There is no sign of the burglar.]

Policeman:

You sure everything's all right, sir? It's a bit of a mess in here.

[The policeman treads in something with a squelch.]

Richie:

Ohh, sorry, that's me again. Sleep vomiting.

[The policeman walks over to the table and clears his throught softly. Eddie looks slowly over the top of his paper.]

Eddie:

Good evening officer.

Policeman:

You all right sir? You seem to have a pencil up your nose.

Eddie:

Oh? Ho, oh yes. I've been sleep doodling. I'm very bad at it.

Policeman:

You realise this paper's upside-down, sir?

Eddie:

[thinks] ...So are my eyes. [rolls his eyes]

Policeman:

Hmmm.

[Suddenly the policeman lunges over and leans out of the window. The figure in the shadows crouches back and goes unnoticed.]

Policeman:

Did you buy this conservatory in Beirut, sir?

Richie:

Oh good heavens Eddie, we've been sleep glazing again!

Policeman:

Right. Now look sir. I'm not sure what's going on here. It's obviously someone's birthday party or something. But whatever it is, [shouts] just stop it, okay!

Richie:

Okay. Thanks for popping round. Well done on the Birmingham Six, by the way. Hurrah for the filth! Um, I mean the pigs! Er, the narcs! Em, oh damn I'm sleep slanging again!

Policeman:

Whack him, Jenkins.

Richie:

What?

[The other officer hits him over the head with his truncheon. Richie collapses. The policemen leave.]

Eddie:

Bloody hell Richie, that was a close one!

Richie:

What do you mean, close one? He got me! Can't get much closer than that! ...Where in Hades is the body?

Eddie:

Ah-ha.

[Eddie points with his finger into the lounge and upwards. The burglar is stuck to the ceiling with Sellotape.]

Richie:

Oh, fiendish! Eddie, a master-stroke! Ah-ha! ...How do we get him down?

Eddie:

Ah.

Richie:

Not to worry, we'll bash him down with the broom. Hwoop!

[Richie thumps the broom-head into the burglar's crotch. The burglar reacts, thumping his head against the ceiling in pain, but doesn't come unstuck.]

Richie:

Ah, it's no good. We'll have to hook a rope around him.

[The shadowy figure that was lurking outside comes up behind Eddie and hits him on the head with a truncheon. Eddie falls to the ground. Richie doesn't notice.]

Richie:

Or we could keep on feeding him sandwiches until he put on sufficient weight so that the Sellotape gave way.

[The masked man whacks Richie on the head.]

Richie:

Or, we could drill little holes in the bedroom floor and poke through with long thin things, Eddie. Eddie?

[Another whack with the truncheon. Richie crumples.]

Richie:

Oh, oh, Eddie! What's happening? Where have all my clothes gone? This is outrageous! You can see my underpants! Where have these mousetraps come from? Eddie, be careful! Don't move a muscle!

Eddie:

Hang on. There's a little note Sellotaped to my knee.

Richie:

What does it say?

Eddie:

Er... Sue Carpenter.

Both:

[thinking of Sue] Hwooor... Ooh!

Richie:

Oh no!

[The traps snap shut on their 'love truncheons', one after the other. They scream. Freeze-frame, roll credits.]