Bottom

'S Out

Series 2, Episode 6
April 10, 1995

Written by
ADRIAN EDMONDSON and RIK MAYALL

Richie:

Tra la la la la la laaaaaaa. [Merrily announcing arrival]

Whoor, I don't know about you, but after a long hike like that I'm just about ready to pitch camp and hit the sack.

Eddie:

What do you mean? I can still see the bus stop from here! [Points back along the path]

Richie:

Yeah, this looks like a good spot, a natural sort of, ah...

Eddie:

Shit hole.

Richie:

Yeah, shi.. No, no, no, no. A natural, 'hollow' in the lee of the wind, fresh water supply [indicates a small murky pond] the wind coming from... [Inhales deeply]

Cho, God! Dear oh dear! [Disgusted by a foul odor]

You think people would have control over their dogs, wouldn't you. Look at that!

[They both outline the shape of the offending 'item']

Richie:

Must've been a great dane! Oh, we can't camp here, we're not French! Hidy-ho, on we go, Eddie. No rest for the hygienic. Huh, dear oh dear... Who'd be English!?

[He takes one exaggerated step over the dog crap.]

[Eddie Sighs to camera]

Richie:

Yeah! This is much better here, yeah. Much more likely spot. [Dumps his haversack to the ground] This is great, isn't it?

Eddie:

What?

Richie:

This! [indicates the surrounding area]

Eddie:

No.

Richie:

You poor, sad, deformed, urban pustule. This is real life! Nature, struggle, destiny! Where's your romance?

Eddie:

Well, she works at Sketchins[?] on Saturday afternoon. I should be going out with her tonight. That's a point, if I nip off now I can just get to the chemists before they shut. [Begins to walk off]

Richie:

Stay where you are, Judas!

Where's your sense of Adventure?

Eddie:

Ah, now she's in Cheswick.

Richie:

No, I mean where's your Spunk?? No, no, no. Lets just avoid that line of questioning, shall we. Come on Eddie, we don't need birds... Besides, if we don't do it we'll lose that bet with mad Ken Stalin that we can live rough in the country for a week. And we haven't got fifty quid, and I'd rather hang on to my knee caps if it's all the same with you!

Eddie:

A Week!

Richie:

Ah, er, yes... hah... I, I was hoping to break that to you at a more opportune moment.

Eddie:

A BLOODY WEEK!

Richie:

Yeah, well I wasn't the one who got drunk and betted he couldn't stick a dart in his temple! Once he'd done that he had us over a barrel.

Eddie:

But I've only got underwear for tonight!

Richie:

That's all you've ever had!

Eddie:

That's True!

Richie:

Now look, we're stuck with it. So will you for heaven's sake stop moaning. Come on, let's get the tent up. Honestly, Alexander the Great never had this problem.

Eddie:

Yeah, well he wasn't a complete dick head, was he?!

Richie:

Right, that's it! That's It! [Assumes fighting pose] Yeah, I've been doing evening classes in ju-jitsu you know.

Eddie:

Well, you should have done them in Hammersmith, then you could have saved money on the bus fares.

Richie:

[Gets the joke and starts laughing] Hey, what great mates we are!

[Eddie makes wanking motion to camera]

Ju-jitsu, Hammersmith, marvelous. Come on, let's get the tent right up!

Eddie:

Right, well that's the toilet tent. Where do we sleep?

Richie:

Oh, ha ha ha ha ha ha har, look out everybody, I'm about to blow my trousers off in merriment at Eddie's sarcasm.

Eddie:

What, you mean that's the whole tent?

Richie:

Eddie, this isn't just a tent, this is a World Ranger Storm Buster Four. You could go anywhere in that.

Eddie:

Yeah, and we probably will as soon as the breeze gets up.

Richie:

Hey, hey, don't knock it. You'll be glad of this when the bomb drops.

Eddie:

What! You think that's going to withstand a twenty megaton nuclear blast? [Stands up]

Richie:

Well you'll be sleeping in it tonight so we'll find out, won't we!

Eddie:

Wait a minute, we're both going to sleep in this?

Richie:

Yes.

Eddie:

[Surveying the tent] We'll be very close, won't we?

Richie:

[Trying to look nonchalant] Well, we'll have our sleeping bags to keep us... respectable.

Eddie:

Sleeping bags?! What's this all about? The last thing I remember was ordering two pints of mild.

Richie:

Well I've got my sleeping bag! [Holds it up]

Eddie:

Well where's my sleeping bag?

Richie:

Well the last I heard she was in Cheswick!

Eddie:

So there's only one sleeping bag.

Richie:

It would appear so, yes.

Eddie:

Ooooh yeah, I get it.

Richie:

Eddie, I'm not trying to trick you into a nudie sauce romp, believe me. I'd rather stick my genitals in a bee's nest.

Eddie:

Kinky.

Richie:

What do you mean Kinky? How am I kinky?

Eddie:

You want to stick you genitals in a bee's nest!

Richie:

[Exasperated] No I don't! That's the whole Point! It's sarcasm! It's a... Uhh, Look, the point I was trying to make is that though sticking one's genitals in a bee's nest is a stupendously un-nice thing to do, it is never the less preferable to having a squidgy sleeping bag session with you!

All right? Now can we just get out equipment out, I mean I mean get out tackle out, no I mean get out gear out, oh god! You can't say anything without some dreadful double entendre lurking around the corner! Look, shall we just unpack and get dinner on the go, All right?

[He starts to walk off, then turns back]

Uh, uh, I bet you forgot the tin opener didn't you. I despair, I mean I really do. I give you one simple task, one little obligation and what do you do? You forget it.

Eddie:

[Walking over to Richie] Well that's where you're wrong! Because, Ha ha ha ha hah! [Withdraws a tin opener from his carrier bag and waves it under Richie's nose] Here it is! Right, where are the tins?

Richie:

SHIT! Shit. You stupid Bastard! Why did you make me forget them? Why do I have to do eve.. We're going to starve to death now, we are going to starve to death!

Eddie:

But Look! [Takes a packet of biscuits from his bag and holds them up] I've got a packet of Chocolate Hob Knobs.

Richie:

[Relieved] Oh, oh thank god. [Laughs] Oh, Eddie, we're saved.

Eddie:

[Sits down on the park bench again] What do you mean we?

I'm all right, but I don't fancy your chances much.

[Begins opening the packet]

Richie:

Oh, have a heart, Eddie. It's your old pal here, Richie! [Sits next to him]

Eddie:

[Stuffing his face with biscuits] Exactly! Bugger off!

[Richie leans forward to take a bite, Eddie punches him in the face. He then takes a big swing at Eddie, who leaps from the bench causing Richie to smash his hand into the bench. While Richie is in agony, Eddie slips into the tent.]

Richie:

Eddie! Eddie? [He notices movement in the tent]

[He takes one of the main poles from one end of the tent and begins beating the tent with it. Eddie crawls out of the end and stands next to Richie, watching him jump up and down on the flattened tent. When Richie is done, he turns and nods to Eddie, then realizes who it is. Richie makes a grab at the biscuits, they both try to take the them, swaying from side to side, until Richie goes face first down onto the sharp end of the other tent pole. He reels back, pulling the pole out of the ground. It is stuck fast in his eye. He yanks it free, turns back to Eddie and starts swinging his fist which hits Eddie's hand, sending the packet of chocolate hob knobs sailing into the middle of the pond.

Richie then begins another well aligned punch and Eddie hits him in the bollocks then the face, then Richie does the same. The shot switches to a close up of the biscuits sinking in the pond.]

>

Richie:

What was that film where they et each other?

Eddie:

Deep Throat, wasn't it.

Richie:

Yeah, that's right...

Eddie:

Yeah.

Richie:

Great wasn't it!

Anyway, anyway, back to the question of food.

Eddie:

Oh, yeah. Hang on! This is Wimbledon Common, isn't it.

Richie:

Yesss.

Eddie:

Hey, I wonder how much meat you get on a Womble.

Richie:

Eddie, Eddie, Wombles don't exist.

Eddie:

Oh yes they do, I've seen them on the telly.

Richie:

Eddie, would it scar you for life if I told you they were just puppets?

Eddie:

Yes, it would.

Richie:

Good. Eddie, they were just puppets!

Eddie:

Well what's that then?! [Points to the undergrowth]

Richie:

Aaaah! [Then realizes what the creature is] Eddie, that is a Hedgehog.

Eddie:

No it's not. That is Great Uncle Bulgaria.

Richie:

Well if it's Great Uncle Bulgaria then the series has taken a sad turn for the worse, because he's wandering around in the nude.

Eddie:

Whoorhor! The Wombles have gone X-Rated!

Richie:

Eddie, pop your insane leaking brain back in it's sponge bag just for an instant and concentrate, Womble or not, that is our supper.

Eddie:

It'll be a bit spiky, won't it?

Richie:

Eddie, Red Indians eat them, you know.

Eddie:

Why, is that why they go around going 'OWOWowowowowow'!

Richie:

Eddie, Eddie... You're so suivez raison[?]. Red Native Americans do not run around the place going 'OWOWowowowowow'. No, they run around going 'How' [Makes a welcoming hand sign]

Eddie:

I bet they do, I bet they go 'round yelling 'HOW' the bloody hell are we supposed to eat that spiky hedgehog?

Richie:

No they do not! The run around the place saying 'How' lovely that spiky hedgehog meal was, Mrs Sitting Bull. We must do the same next Tuesday, it was charming. How's Roger's prep school, by the way?

Eddie:

What the bloody hell are you talking about, you mad man!?

Richie:

You wouldn't understand, Eddie. Different social strata. Now, how are we going to kill it?

Eddie:

Well... You could bore it to death.

Richie:

Right-o! Eh, no... Hmm... [Considers for a moment]

Oh, well it's all academic now, he's buggered off.

Oh no! There he is! In the thicket. Right! This is it. Uh... Right...

Eddie:

I know! Lets entice him out with a chocolate hob knob! [Gathers the hob knobs from over the fire]

Richie:

Great idea, Great idea. And then, when he's out in the open, we'll surround him and finish him off! Right, so we need to gather together some sticks and sort of lash them together to fashion some sort of... Rifle.

Eddie:

Hmm. I wonder what the pygmies do.

Richie:

They wander around saying, 'Crikey, isn't everything big.'

Eddie:

No wonder they're dying out then, is it.

Richie:

Yehhh.

Eddie:

Hang on! I've got my darts! And we could use this [takes one of the poles from the tent] as a blow pipe!

Richie:

Oh yes! Oh Eddie yes! Darts and a blow pipe, very rain forest. I wish Sting was here to see this.

Eddie:

Right, here we go. [Places the dart in the pipe and lines up the shot, ready to fire]

Richie:

Oh, Eddie, Eddie hang on. Listen, If we're going to do this really really properly, we're going to have to have some proper Amazon Indian names for ourselves.

Eddie:

Come on, before he goes off to meet Orinoko.

Richie:

Shut up Eddie, Shut up. This is important. Right, now it's got to be sort of Eagly, with a dash of running dog, and not forgetting a hint of being a tower of attraction to women.

Eddie:

Hmm... What about 'Neville'?

Richie:

That is BRILLIANT! Running Neville. No, no no. Sitting Neville... NO NO! Squatting Neville! [Assumes squatting pose]

Eddie:

Come on! He's getting away!

Richie:

All right, all right don't hustle me. [stutters] All right, I don't like it but we'll go with Pocahontas.

Eddie:

All right, Hockety Punctus! Entice him out!

[Gives the hob knobs to Richie]

Richie:

Right... Hey, Don't forget to make the noise.

Both:

'OWOWowowowowow' [Loud, advancing on the Hedgehog]

Richie:

Oh, he's buggered off.

Eddie:

Oh no, there his is! Behind that tree!

[Points in the direction of the pond]

Richie:

Right! Let's go. Oh, hey Eddie... Do you think we should do this in our underpants? No, it'd be great. It'd be really Indiany. We could get some hankies and put them down the front and the back like flaps. And then...

[Motions to his trousers. Eddie looks puzzled, unsure]

Stupid idea isn't it. We haven't got any hankies. No! Hang on! We could use some pages from the Evening Standard. They're even bigger! You get a big flap down the front and a big flap down the back, We'll get out Biros out and doodle on our nippl...

[Sees Eddie looking funny]

Take your point... It's a bit chilly, isn't it.

[In a deeper voice] Right! Let's hunt!

Mrs Tiggy-Winkle! Mrs Tiggy-Winkle!

[Advancing on the Hedge hog, throwing it pieces of broken Chocolate Hob Nobs]

It's not working. Ah! Mrs Tiggy-Winkle... Yum Yum!

Right! Eddie! He's broken cover! Let him have it!

[Eddie takes aim and blows the dart out of the pipe]

Eddie:

Did I get him?

Richie:

No... You missed.

Eddie:

Damn!

Richie:

Eddie, old chum?

Eddie:

Yes, me old mate.

Richie:

Do us a favor and pull this dart of the back of my head, would you?

Eddie:

[Sees the dart sticking out of the back of Richie's head] All right, me old Mucker. Blimey, how did that get there?

Richie:

I have no idea. Hurry along now, I'm losing my eye sight.

[Eddie twists and turns the dart to Richie's yelps of pain. He finally heaves it free and Richie goes face first into the roaring camp fire. He bolts up, face blackened, rushes over to the pond and thrusts his face into the water.]

Eddie:

Richie... You've put the fire out now.

Richie:

[Stands up] Eddie! There's a fish in there!

[They both give each other the thumbs up. Eddie picks up the dart and blow pipe while Richie crouches at the side of the pond.]

There he is! Let him have it!

[Eddie fires the dart at the pond.]

Eddie:

Go and get him, Richie.

Richie:

No, I think I'll just hang around here on the shore here, if it's all the same with you.

Eddie:

Oh come on, he's only a fish.

Richie:

I realize that, but now my hand is unfortunately attached to this boulder.

[He stands, the dart is through the back of his hand, holding a large rock under his palm.]

[Eddie twists and turns the dart again, then pulls it free, the rock drops onto Richie's foot. He yells in pain.]

Richie:

Right. Give me the blow pipe.

Eddie:

Yep. I'm very sorry, Richie. [Gives it to Richie]

Richie:

Give me the dart. [Hands him the dart]

Eddie:

Here you go.

Richie:

Right. Go and stand over there.

Eddie:

Fair Enough.

[He walks away. Richie puts the dart in the blow pipe, aligns his shot and sucks the dart backwards out of the blow pipe, down his throat.]

Richie:

[Gasps, mouth open] Ah! Slap me.

Eddie:

I beg your pardon.

Richie:

SLAP ME!

Eddie:

Oh, I like this game! [Slaps Richie in the face hard]

[Richie clutches his throat, pointing to his open mouth]

Eddie:

Hey! You've got a dart in there, did you know that? You have got a dart in there! [points to Richie's throat]

Richie:

Get it out!

Eddie:

I beg... I beg you pardon? [Covering his crotch]

Richie:

Get it out! [turns around, points to his back.]

Eddie:

KINKY!

Richie:

The dart!

[Eddie then realizes what Richie means. He picks up the wooden mallet Richie used to hammer the tent pegs and smashes him on the back of the head. The dart flies out, ricochets off a wall, a traffic cone a lamp-post, a tin and finally hits Richie on the backside. He screams in pain, pulls the dart out and tosses it into the pond.]

Richie:

[In a higher voice] I don't think we're really cut out for this dart and blow pipe business, do you?

[Then re-adjusts his larynx.]

Eddie:

The only thing that's had anything to eat around here is the bloody hedgehog. There's only one hob knob left. That's twenty seven hob knobs he's had! No wonder he shits like a great dane!

Richie:

Hey Eddie, why don't we have a go at that fish?

Eddie:

But we haven't got a rod!

Richie:

Hey, why don't we use your vest as a net?

Eddie:

Would I have to be in it?

Richie:

Come on, give us the vest.

[Eddie opens his coat, and pulls off his vest from under his shirt. Wonders about it for a moment, then shrugs.]

Richie:

Right! Get the stove nice and hot, step back Moby, Here I come!

[Throws the vest into the pond while Eddie prepares a small gas cooker]

Eddie:

Have you caught anything yet?

Richie:

[Picks up the vest and a used condom] Yes, I think I very probably have caught something, Eddie. It's quite a love nest around here, you know.

[Eddie pushes the nozzle of the gas element into the top of the disposable gas cylinder, piercing it. He hears the gas escaping, takes a sniff and places the cylinder on the ground, tossing the element away. Richie meanwhile tosses the vest into the pond again, then wades in after it. Eddie begins searching his clothes for matches]

Richie:

Oh no! Great! Eddie! I've landed one! She is a BEAUTY!

[Picks up a tiny fish that has been skewered by the dart Richie threw into the pond.]

Eddie:

Nice one, Richie!

Richie:

Look at her, Look at her! She must be THAT BIG. [holds his hands far apart, AKA the size of 'the one that got away']

Quite the little battler, yeah. I'm afraid, er, we, we lost the net in the conflict.

Eddie:

You mean my vest is in the pond.

Richie:

[changing the subject] Is the stove lit yet?

Eddie:

Half.

Richie:

Half?

Eddie:

Yeah, you haven't seen the matches anywhere have you?

Richie:

No... We could try rubbing our sticks together.

Eddie:

Hmm... It's a tad more urgent than that.

Richie:

Hmm.... Oh, all right, all right. You can use my Bic.

[Hands Eddie a cigarette lighter]

But don't keep your finger pressed down longer than a second, all right?

[Eddie gives him the thumbs up, leans face over the gas bottle and flicks the lighter. A massive fireball blows up in his face. He stands back, and warms his hands in front of it.]

Eddie:

Stove's lit.

Richie:

Nice one! Right, let's get Moby under the grill, I'm famished!

[Sticks the fish on the end of a branch and holds it in the flame for two seconds then withdraws it, on fire. Richie waves it around and blows on it, trying to put the fire out, finally drops it to the ground and stamps on it repeatedly. They both stand back and look it over]

Eddie:

Is it done, then?

Richie:

I think so... They don't take long, do they?

Eddie:

What, and we just eat it straight off the ground, do we? Is that safe?

Richie:

Oh, Eddie... You and your hygiene. We're in the country side here, we've got everything we need! We'll wash it in the lake, lovely fresh mountain stream, it'll be lovely! [Looks down at it again] Yeah, well you pick it up, it's a bit near the dog shit for me.

[Eddie carefully picks the blackened mess up and holds it in the water]

Eddie:

Whoops, lost a bit.

[He stands up again, scraping off some of the encrusted filth]

Eddie:

Which end's the head, do you think.

Richie:

Oh come here, give it to a country boy, I'll divide it up. [takes it from Eddie] Well, it's bound to be one end or the other, isn't it. Eh...

[Breaks it in half] There, heads or tails. Oh, we can't do that, can we. Eh... Oh, all right, I'll have the black bit, you have the flaky bit. Good Health! [He pops his half into his mouth and chews it, nodding in agreement] That was disGUSTING!!

You not eating yours, Eddie?

Eddie:

No... I'm keeping it.

Richie:

What for?

Eddie:

Evidence. [Pops his half into a small plastic bag.]

Richie:

Come on Eddie, you've got to get some nutrition!

Eddie:

I'm all right, mate. I've got half a bottle of scotch here, I know who's side I'm on.

Richie:

Oh yes! Lets get boozy and sit 'round the camp fire singing dirty rugby songs!

[They both sit in front of the flaming gas cylinder.]

Eddie:

Right! Here we go! [The flame burns out] Oh well, first shot to me...

[He sculls the entire bottle then hands it empty to Richie.]

There you go.

Richie:

[After sucking air from the empty bottle] Oooh! I'm going crazy! Ok, dirty rugby songs, let's go... Eh, Twinkle Twinkle Little St... Oh, it's not very dirty, that one, is it, Eddie?

[Notices Eddie is passed out on the ground.]

Eddie? Oh Eddie, oh Eddie, don't pass out all ready. You'll miss out on all the fun!

Eddie:

[Stirring] What fun?

Richie:

Yes, I suppose that's a point... When you come to think of it, nothing much ever really happens in the country, does it?

[Just then a man runs up to them wearing only an overcoat and flashes at them laughing before running off.]

Richie:

You wonder why they do it, really, don't you. I mean, with something as small as that. Mine's bigger than that and mine's TINY! [Realizing his slip] Ish. Tiny-ish.

Oh well, time for bed.

Eddie:

What do you mean, it's only half past five.

Richie:

Oh Eddie, this is the country now, you know what they say... A cuckoo in May, Ooo Arh Ooo Arh Ay!

Richie:

Right... Well, here we are, Edward. Are you sure you didn't sneak a quick peek at my underpants while I was getting into my sleeping bag?

Eddie:

Absolutely, Richie. I give you my word of honor: I didn't get even the slightest glimpse of your gaudily stained love blob containers.

Richie:

All right. Good. Nighty night then. [Long Pause] What do you normally do when you go to bed, Eddie?

Eddie:

I normally have a bit of a kip.

Richie:

You're so concise. I mean... What's your going to bed routine?

Eddie:

Ah! Routine... Well, I normally, get into bed... And then I have a bit of a kip.

Richie:

I wonder what's on telly right now.

Probably missing Emmerdale Farm. Matt'll have his arm up some cow's backside by now. Lucky bugger.

Eddie:

We'll miss the Late Show, of course. Cwor.. That bird in the red Specs... [Breaths heavily and sharply, and grins]

Richie:

Eddie! Are you carrying a torch for her?

Eddie:

[Looking down at his trousers] No, it's just the way my trousers ruck up.

Richie:

Oh. [Pause] What are you reading, Eddie?

Eddie:

I don't know, I'm too drunk to focus.

Richie:

[Sighs] I'm bored now. [Pause] You ever been hang-gliding, Eddie?

Eddie:

Nope.

Richie:

No, nor me. Well, that's exhausted that one, then. I can't think of anything else to talk about yo...

Eddie:

WELL, NIGHT-NIGHT THEN.

Richie:

Yes, I suppose so. Night night. Sleep tight. Hope the bed bugs do not bite. If they do, do a poo, put it in the Cornish stew. Into the Ambulance, dream dream dream, fish trousers elephant in Peking. Saw a busy bee, tiddle diddle dee, Daddy's an accountant just like me. Night-night, God bless.

I'm still not asleep, you know. You know, I think it's this sleeping bag. It's letting in a draught.

Eddie:

[Sarcastically] Oh my heart Bleeds!

Richie:

Come on Eddie. I'm more sensitive than you are. Do us a favor, me old pal. Grab a hold of my draw-string and give it a bloody good yank.

Eddie:

I beg your pardon!

Richie:

Here! Here! [Indicating the draw-string at the top end of the sleeping bag. Eddie Grabs it and pulls it tight, almost strangling Richie.]

Ok! Fine, Fine. Good. All right. Night-night, then.

[Leans over to kiss Eddie good-night.] Oh! No no!

[Sigh] Put the light out, Eddie, Would you?

[Eddie starts snoring, Richie tries to move, but can't.]

Oh! I can't get out! Oh, I'll have to do it myself.

[He leans forward to try and blow the lamp out and fails]

Oh God, who'd be me? Oh, Night night then world.

[Closes his eyes. A moment later there is a clap of thunder. Richie jumps awake in a start, the relaxes as rain begins to fall only to be startled again by an owl hooting.]

Eddie! Eddie! There's someone outside... Doing owl impressions.

[Hoots again]

Not very good ones, either. Eddie?

[Another clap of thunder. Eddie Awakes screaming. Richie tries to calm him, finally resorting to beating him repeatedly on the head with the mallet-- which he holds in his teeth, his hands being trapped inside the sleeping bag..]

Eddie:

What are you doing that for? I was having a dream!

Richie:

I know! It sounded harrowing!

Eddie:

No! I was in bed with Kym Bassinger! It was Fantastic! Let's get back to sleep VERY quickly! [Shuts his eyes]

[Pause then he sits up startled]

WHERE THE BLOODY HELL AM I??

Richie:

No! Eddie! Calm down! You're in a tent! You're in a tent! Eddie... I think there's something outside...

Eddie:

Yeah. Well there's bound to be SOMETHING outside, Richie. You can't expect the universe and it's entire contents to be contained within the confines of a small canvas tent.

Richie:

You're very philosophical for this time of night, Eddie.

Eddie:

Yeah, well I've had half a bottle of scotch, what do you expect?

Richie:

No, listen. [Owl hoots again] Eddie, I'm serious. I'm getting a sense of something magnificently evil, black and foul hanging in the air waiting to destroy us!

Eddie:

Yeah, that'll be the fish repeating on you.

[Pause... Hoot again]

Richie:

There it is again! What do you think it is? A wolf? A bear?

Eddie:

[Ghasp] WOMBLES!!

Both:

WOMBLES!!

Richie:

[Panting] Look, Eddie, Eddie, why don't we bring the fire inside the tent to ward them off.

Eddie:

Well, that'd be a bit dangerous, wouldn't it?

Richie:

No, it's gone out.

Eddie:

Well what's the point then?

Richie:

Oh yes, silly me.

Eddie:

Why don't we light a small fire inside the tent?

Richie:

All right... Just a small one.

Eddie:

You know me. A tiny, itsy bitsy teeny one.

Richie:

Good 'ol Eddie.

Eddie:

Now, where's the paraffin... Here we go. [Unscrews the lamp and starts drinking]

Richie:

No! No, Eddie, we need that.

Eddie:

[He prepares the lamp] Stand well back.

Richie:

What do you mean 'stand well back'? I can't get out of this bloody sleeping bag, can I?

Eddie:

Here we go.

Richie:

No Eddie! Change of plan!

[Cut to outside. A massive fire ball erupts from both ends of the tent.]

Richie:

Nice one, Eddie. That should ward'em off. [Both have burnt faces]

[Another clap of thunder sets the tension as the shadow of a man appears on the side of the tent, stalking toward the front of the tent.]

Richie:

[Panicking] Oh! Eddie! Look! Help me get out of this sleeping bag!

Eddie:

There's no time!

[The figure moves past the end of the tent, and the open zip door slides down, then as Richie and Eddie start screaming, slowly begins to slide open... ]

Richie:

No! No!

[ ...The flasher, naked stands before the tent and sticks his bollocks in the open end. Richie and Eddie scream in terror. Eddie reaches forward and zips down the door on the intruding flasher, who runs screaming off into the undergrowth, the tent flapping from his crotch, leaving Richie and Eddie sitting out in the pouring rain.]

Eddie:

Right, well... That's about it for me. I'm off.

[Richie tries to move in the sleeping bag]

Well, are you not coming?

Richie:

Well I can't, I can't move, can I?

Eddie:

Now, that's a point. [Picks up the mallet]

Richie:

Eddie! No!

[Eddie hits Richie on the back of the head with the mallet. Richie topples over against the 'Dogs Toilet' sign.]

BOTTOM

Written by and starring

ADRIAN EDMONDSON and RIK MAYALL

with

Rupert Bates as Mr Tent

Directed by

Ed Bye