Bottom

TERROR

Series 3, Episode 2
January 13, 1995

Written by
ADRIAN EDMONDSON and RIK MAYALL

Eddie:

Here it is! Here it is! It's arrived! [Holding newspaper]

Richie:

What?!

Eddie:

It's arrived!! [Displays the newspaper again]

Richie:

[looking over his shoulder] Oh! Fantastic!

[He picks up a small fire-extinguisher and blasts it at the fry pan, putting the blaze out.]

Thank heavens for that! It gets so hot in the kitchen.

Eddie:

Here we are; spot the ball competition, page thirteen!

Richie:

[Laughs] Lucky thirteen!

Eddie:

And the winner is...

Richie:

Yes! Yes! YES!!

Eddie:

Mister T Veneballs, Wembley stadium, London.

Richie:

Goh, Bastard! He wins every week!

Eddie:

Do you know, I think he might be the photographer.

Richie:

Look, look, look, look [points to the paper] His balls have got to be there! They're underneath his shorts, I drew 'em in, both of them! They can't be over there in the goal mouth... Unless it's a ladies match.

[They both peer closely at the paper for a moment]

No, no it's just a perm. Oh well, that's another twenty-five quid's worth of postal orders down the Swannie.

Eddie:

I wonder if they mean the football, Richie?

Richie:

Don't be stupid! That could be anywhere! I mean use your head, Eddie. I mean, honestly, if I wasn't here where would you be?

Eddie:

In the pub.

Richie:

No, no, no, I mean mentally, where would you be?

Eddie:

Inside Maria Whitticar's bra.

Richie:

Uh, Uh! Nice venue, can I tag along?

Eddie:

You haven't got the bus fare, mate. [Taps the side of his head] Besides which, you've just lost all your money on the spot the balls competition. [sits at the table]

Richie:

Oh yeah, oh yeah, that's right. I knew I was pissed off about something. Good, right, back on track: I'm depressed. Good, thanks Eddie, I feel great now. Oh SHIT! No, I'm supposed to be depressed! Oh you twat, Eddie! Everything's just gone to bollocks! [goes to the fridge]

I don't know where I am now!

Eddie:

[to camera] And it's only half past eight in the morning. [to Richie] Oh well never mind all that! How's ya sausage?

Richie:

[slowly looks up from the fridge, suspicious]

That's a bit personal, isn't it?

[then realization dawns]

Oh! I see, You mean my sausage! [points to the frypan]

Eddie:

[Confused] Yes.

Richie:

You're asking me about my sausage?

Eddie:

Sausage, yes.

Richie:

Not my penis?

Eddie:

[Looks shocked] No!

Richie:

Oh, thank heavens for that!

[closes the fridge]

Well what can I tell you, Eddie. It's an absolute disaster! I just can't get the hang of this cooking lark. I mean, you put the sausage in the pan, you set it on fire and what happens? It gets incinerated!

[holds the pan up for inspection.]

Eddie:

Well maybe we should eat our flakes?

Richie:

[Slowly looks around at Eddie in disgust, then sees him holding up a packet of corn flakes]

Oh! Oh, oh, oh I see what you mean. I think I'm getting double-entendre disease. [turns back to sink]

Eddie:

Can I drink your juice?

Richie:

[Looks around in total disgusted horror then sees Eddie holding a glass of orange juice.]

Oh! Oh, yes, yes of course, go ahead. I think I'm going mad this morning!

[There is a tap-tap-tapping at the door]

Eddie:

Oh, someone's giving our knocker a damn good banging! I'd better go and see who it is.

Richie:

Righty-ho, I'll grab hold of my sausage and give it a good seeing to.

[Eddie walks down the hall and opens the door, but there's no one there, until he looks down and sees three children wearing red devil's outfits, one holding a pitch fork.]

Eddie:

[Screams in terror] RICHIE! There's three small devils at the front door!

Richie:

[At stove, another sausage on fire in the pan]

It's just the drinking, Eddie. You've got the D-D's, come back in and have a resolve. They're not there.

[Camera goes back to Eddie at the door]

Kid #1:

Trick or treat, mister.

Eddie:

What!?

Kid #2:

Trick or treat, you bald-headed bastard!

Eddie:

I'm sorry, I don't speak child; What do you mean ?

Kid #2:

I mean give us some sweets! [holds out his hand]

Eddie:

What kind of setup is this? I can't give you sweets, I'll get arrested! Where's the camera?

Kid #1:

Well, it'll have to be a trick then; give it to him, Damien.

Eddie:

Give me what?

Kid #3:

Too late, weird-o! [Lunges forward at Eddie at waist (Damien) level with the pitch-fork]

[Back to Richie. Eddie's scream of pain echo's through the whole flat for about five seconds]

Richie:

Honestly! He's got to stop the drinking!

[closes the fridge, holds a glass and stirs it.]

Right, here we are, seven Eggs... washing up liquid... Hint of Demestos [sings] Jiff Micro Liquid where are you? Here I am... And the secret ingredient... Ant spray!

[He then holds his hand over the top of the glass and shakes all the contents around. Eddie then walks slowly through the door, the pitch-fork sticking out of his crotch]

Eddie:

That is THE MOST violent hallucination I've ever had!

Richie:

Bloody hell, Eddie! Here, you'd better get this down ya!

[places the glass on the table. Eddie turns around, the pitch fork smacking Richie on the back of the head. Richie tries to get up again, but Eddie turns back, smacking Richie across the face. Eddie picks the glass up and is about to drink when Richie jumps up]

Richie:

Uh uh uh uh! Up the nose, or not at all!

[places a second straw in the glass. Eddie sighs, places a straw up each nostril and inhales, drinking the entire glass then keels over backwards, the pitchfork smashing Richie across the face once more. Both fall out of shot.]

Richie:

Right, Eddie! This is going to bloody well work.

[pulls up and straightens his tights.]

God, if only we'd known it was Hallowe'en, we could have made an absolute fortune!

[Eddie walks into the room, dressed in a giant banana costume, walks over to the couch and picks up a can of larger.]

Richie:

Eddie?

Eddie:

Yeah?

Richie:

[laugh] Why are you dressed as a banana?

Eddie:

They didn't have any pumpkin outfits left.

Richie:

Give me strength! Well, you'll just have to make pumpkin noises.

Eddie:

All right... Whoo! Whoooo!

Richie:

All right, all right, all right, you'll just have to be mute.

Eddie:

What? A mute pumpkin or a mute banana?

Richie:

Oh, look Shut up, shut up.

Both:

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

[Eddie sits down on the couch]

Richie:

Doesn't matter about all that. Now, this is the plan, ok? Richie and Eddie's big Hallowe'en party, plenty of booze and jugged up babes, shaggy shaggy shag... [hip thrusting]

And that's about it, really. Whadda you think?

Eddie:

Legendary, awesome, fiendish!

Richie:

Yeah, All right, all right. Go easy on the praise, I don't wanna rip me tights. Right, there's only one snag, zero cash, hence the great outfits.

Eddie:

Uh huh.

Richie:

Now this is the plan, right, you go out, you go to the front door, you ring the bell.

Eddie:

Yeah...

Richie:

They answer the bell...

Eddie:

Uh huh.

Richie:

You say trick or treat...

Eddie:

I thought I was mute.

Richie:

Yes, all right, all right, all right; well just on this one occasion you can be a talking Hallowe'en banana.

Eddie:

OKIE-DOKEY!! What do I say?

Richie:

You say: Trick or treat! Just cash! No sweets! And if they give us any trouble at all, I give them a quick blast with the electric cattle prod.

Where is it, by the way?

Eddie:

[Long laugh, picks up a massive dangerous looking machine from behind the couch.]

Here it is!

Richie:

I say, Eddie, that looks the business! Does it work?

[He slings it's strap over his shoulder]

Eddie:

Oh, yes indeedy.

Richie:

Right, Yeah! Yeah! [lunges forward with it twice]

Right, how do you switch it on?

Eddie:

Ah, it's just that little lever there.

[steps away and puts his fingers in his ears.]

Richie:

That one there?

Eddie:

Yeah.

[Richie flips the switch, a large sound of power building up is heard, accompanied by shafts of blue electricity flying out of it's circuitry. Richie shakes as if being electrocuted and a large wet farting/crapping noise is heard, followed by wet splattering. Richie looks extremely uncomfortable.]

Richie:

Right, that's it. Decision made; I'll have to wear the green tights now. [He saunters off side-step.]

Richie:

What a sweet old lady.

Eddie:

Well she was once we softened her up with the cricket bat.

Richie:

Yeah. Still, honi soit quimal y pense.

Eddie:

What ever that means!

Richie:

Exactly. Plus, we made a couple of apples out of it.

Eddie:

Yeah, know why have they got razor blades in them?

Richie:

It's a tradition, Eddie, a sort of Hallowe'en tradition. Ahh! Look, here we are! Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi cul-de-sac! They're loaded down here! This is where we clean up. [Laughs] Oh, it's a great night for it, isn't it.

Eddie:

Yeah, it's a pity we're out trick or treating.

Richie:

[Laughs] It's great the way I never listen to anything you say. That's what's keeping my morale up, you know.

Eddie:

Really? I thought you'd just got your tights on the wrong way 'round.

Richie:

Top banter! Let's go!

Eddie:

OOOH! Crikey Bikey! Cork your bum, Richie! It's those kids that did me over this morning!

[Shot changes to show the three kids in their devil suits huddled together talking]

Kid #1:

Come on, let's go smoke another pack of ciggies.

[They disappear behind a wall]

Richie:

They're just a couple of little kids. I reckon we could get a win out of this one! [clenches fists] Come On!

Eddie:

Yeah! All for one and one for all! You go first, I've got a bad leg.

Richie:

Have you? Right, OK. [spits on his fists, and runs behind the wall, arms flailing with Eddie right behind.]

[The shot stays at the front of the wall as the fight breaks out, the kids are shouting and yelling as a junk, cats, sheep and all manner of things go flying about. About half way through, Eddie clambers to the top of the wall and speaks to camera:]

Eddie:

It's going very well... Keep watching!

[Soon after, the fighting stops and the three kids walk triumphant from behind the wall]

Kid #2:

How much did we get?

Kid #1:

Twenty P off the incontinent girl.

Kid #3:

Five pints of Malibu off the banana.

Kid #1:

Not bad, not bad.

[When they have disappeared, Richie and Eddie stumble painfully out from behind the wall.]

Richie:

Yeah, and let that be a lesson to you! Yeah, they'll think twice before attacking us again.

Eddie:

Yeah, well they know we haven't got any money left now, don't they.

[They begin walking down the street slowly]

Richie:

Yeah. Little BASTARDS! Did you see me during the fight, Eddie? Did you see me hitting the really little one?!

Eddie:

No.

Richie:

Didn't you? Oh, well, never mind. I'll make up a story about it later and tell it to you when you're drunk. That'll work. Right, come on! On to our next victim!

Eddie:

Right!

[They walk up to the first door they see]

Richie:

Here we go, Right. Ring the bell.

[Eddie pushes the doorbell. The door is opened by Spudgun.]

Spudgun:

Oh, hello Eddie.

Eddie:

Hello, Spudgun.

Spudgun:

Yeah, hello, Richie.

Richie:

Yes, yes, yes. "Hello" [makes quotes with his fingers] [to Eddie] Are we going to do this or not?

Eddie:

But it's Spudgun!

Richie:

Just say it to him, Eddie.

Eddie:

Trick or treat?

Spudgun:

What does that mean?

Richie:

It means you give us some cash, no sweets, no credit cards.

Spudgun:

Why?

Eddie:

Because it's the end of October!

Spudgun:

I don't understand.

Richie:

Look, we haven't got all night. We've got the whole street to do. Now I've got my tights on, Eddie's wearing a banana, now just give us some cash!

Spudgun:

Are you on drugs? Can I have some?

Richie:

Right!

Eddie:

Dear oh dear.

Richie:

We don't seem to be getting through, do we?

[struts cockily back a few paces.]

Eddie...

Eddie:

Yup!?

Richie:

Where's the cattle prod?!

Eddie:

Well, here IT IS!

Richie:

Right! Give it to me!

Eddie:

Beg your pardon?

Richie:

I said give it to me!

Eddie:

Right-o!

[He flicks on the switch, the sound of the cattle prod charging up is heard as Eddie presses the tip to Richie's chest and the blue electricity bolts fly through his body. Richie shakes as if being electrocuted and the large wet farting/crapping noise is heard, followed again by the wet splattering.]

Richie:

[shaking] Bear with me.

[He waves his hand back and forth in front of his face as he walks off down the road.]

Eddie:

[To Richie] That's not how we rehearsed it, you know.

Spudgun:

You see, what I want to know is...

Eddie:

Uh, uh.

Spudgun:

Why, when you say 'trick or treat'

Eddie:

Yeah.

Spudgun:

He has to foul himself.

Eddie:

Well, I think it may be a deep subconscious desire to amuse.

[Suddenly, Eddie starts sniffing the air, Spud gun does also, checking his arm-pits and shoes for the approaching smell]

Eddie:

Oh, she's back!

[They both extinguish their ciggies and hide the cans as Richie stalks back around the corner, this time in a pair of colourless-see through tights.]

Richie:

Right, here we are. It's got to work this time, 'cause I'm down to my last pair of tights. I knew I should have bought the bumper pack. Right, Eddie, hand me...

R&E:

Hand me Hand! Hand, hand HAND!

Eddie:

Hand me the cattle prod. [He takes it from Eddie and slings it over his shoulder]

[To Spudgun] Right you, let's get on with it, let's do it properly. Go on, in, in, in, in, in. Right, you go indoors, close the door, I ring the bell, open the door, I say Trick or treat and you give me the cash, all right! [pushes Spudgun through his front door.]

Spudgun:

Look, I'm still not sure about...

Richie:

Oh, just get on with it, you great vat of dripping!

[Pushes Spudgun right in]

Close the door!

[He does. Richie turns to Eddie and they share an exasperated sigh. Richie rings the bell. Spudgun opens it.]

Richie:

Right. Trick or ruddy treat!

Eddie:

I thought that was my line!

Richie:

WHAT!? Oh, God! Oh, who'd be an eight year old!? [To Spudgun] LOOK, are you going to give us some money or not?!

Spudgun:

No.

Richie:

Right, that's it. Eddie, how do you switch this bloody thing on? [fiddles with the cattle prod]

Eddie:

Ah, it's that little lever there.

[Eddie takes cover again as Richie flips the switch, accompanied by the now familiar charging noise, sparks and farting/crapping/splattering noise. Eddie starts coughing and with Spudgun, begin waving their hands around to clear the air.]

Richie:

Eddie... You know this is my last pair of tights, don't you.

Eddie:

Yeah, well come on, let's go this way. As long as we head into the wind, we'll be all right.

Richie:

Eddie, if any of this ever gets out...

[Eddie looks down at Richie's bum]

No, no, not that... Oh, come on, I've got to go home.

Eddie:

What do you mean? We've only made half a curly-whirly, two apples full of razor blades and four summonses. That's not enough for a party, is it?

Spudgun:

You having a party?

Richie:

Yeah.

Spudgun:

Can I come?

Richie:

Uh, yes, yes. That's right, we're having a party, but everyone's got to chip in a bit for the beer money.

Spudgun:

How much?

Richie:

Five grand.

Spudgun:

It's a bit steep.

Eddie:

Well, how much have you got?

Spudgun:

[counting his change] Two pound fifty.

Eddie:

You're in! [Takes Spudgun's cash]

Richie:

And bring all your friends, also. And they've all got to chip in the beer money as well; Two pound fifty.

Come on, Eddie. Were going to make a fortune out of this!

[They start walking down the street, Eddie waving his hand in front of his face. Spudgun goes back inside holding his nose.]

Let's go find a supermarket trolley, you can wheel me home. Bloody cattle prod. I don't know how these cattle get about! I tell you, it's no wonder they all live in the country.

Eddie:

I can't see any more! Mind if I go in front?!

[He staggers forward, sucking in the fresh air ahead of Richie]

Richie:

Hey, how's the home brew coming along?

Eddie:

Well, it's only been on the go for forty five minutes... So it must be nearly ready.

[He takes a ladle of the brown liquid and pours it back into the bath with a loud splattering noise.]

Richie:

Not bad, not bad. Is that bitter or larger?

Eddie:

It's hard to tell, but it's taking the enamel off the bath.

Richie:

Oh, that reminds me, have you hollowed out your pumpkins?

Eddie:

I beg your pardon! Oh! Oh! Oh, you mean the vegetable!

Richie:

Yeah.

Eddie:

Ah, I'm afraid they didn't have any pumpkins left, they only had carrots.

Richie:

Oh, have you hollowed them out, you know, made them all shit-your-pants scary?

Eddie:

Yes indeedy.

[he picks up a large carrot with a smiley face drawn on it in black marker pen and makes scary noises.]

Woo ooo, woo ooo... Head butt!! [Taps Richie on the forehead with the carrot]

Richie:

Yeah... Not terribly scary is it, Eddie.

Eddie:

Uh, uh, uh, uh. Light the taper, Richie!

Richie:

Oooh! Okie-doke [He takes out a box of matches]

Eddie:

Ah, ah, ah, ah. Not too close to the home brew.

Richie:

Right.

Eddie:

It's a little on the volatile side.

[They both walk into the living room. Eddie puts the carrot in a narrow glass, top up, on the coffee table in front of the sofa.]

Richie:

Here goes. [He lights the taper with a match.]

Eddie:

Ah, I'd stand back, if I were you.

Richie:

Oh, right-o.

[The taper quickly burns down and the carrot explodes loudly with a bang and lots of smoke, leaving the coffee table bare.]

Richie:

Wow! Bloody brilliant, Eddie!! Yeah! Hey, got any more?

Eddie:

Mais oui, mon brarve.

Richie:

What?

Eddie:

Certainement, mon general.

Richie:

Ah, Ah Christ, he's gone all Welsh on me again.

[In an exaggerated accent] Have ya got any more exploding carrots?

Eddie:

Why, certainly, Monsieur.

[He opens a chest next to the telly to reveal that it is full of carrots.]

Richie:

Bloody Hell, Eddie! Great! Right, well I've just got to finish my Sprouts Mexicane and we're all set.

Eddie:

Sprouts Mexicane?

[Richie goes into the kitchen]

Richie:

Sprouts... Mexicane!

[Eddie then follows him in]

Eddie:

What's that?!

Richie:

Well, it's ah, Sprouts. Pinch of chilli powder. Jar of curry powder. Hint of Tobasco sauce. (Well, three bottles, actually. Not so much a hint, more of a party-political broadcast.) And the secret ingredient... Gun powder!

Eddie:

Sprouts!?

Richie:

Yeah! They were left over from last Christmas!

[pats his backside] Da da da da, da da!

Eddie:

But it's October!

Richie:

Yes, yes, I know... they were a bit 'frisky' But the spices will cover any embarrassment.

[The oven door, directly behind Richie explodes open and smoke billows out.]

Oh, hey! They must be ready!

[He puts on a pair of oven mitts and removes a pan from the glowing oven.]

Yeah! There they are. Phwoah! [waves the smoke aside] Fancy a taste, Eddie?

Eddie:

I would rather cut off my penis with a rusty bread knife.

Richie:

Oh, hark at Egon Ronay.

[scoops up some of the 'sprouts Mexican' with his spoon]

I'm not scared, watch this!

[He eats the spoonful of 'Sprouts Mexican' and immediately turns red and collapses face first onto the floor. Eddie smiles and nods as he watches.]

Richie:

[coming to] Uuhhhh, Haaah... What time is it? What place of man? Eddie! How long was I out?

Eddie:

[Looking up from his paper] About an hour and a half!

Richie:

What! Crikey! Look at the time! [gets to his feet]

They'll be here in a minute!

[points to a clock above the door]

Look! Here it comes! Here it comes and...

[Close up of the clock as the hands moves to 6 o'clock and it gives half of one hourly 'clang']

Must get that clock fixed.

[There is a knocking at the door]

Ah! Here they are! I'll go and answer the door.

[As he turns to leave, a big flame shoots out the back of Richie's trousers accompanied by a fart noise. He turns around mystified.]

That's strange. What was that? Very warm in here, isn't it. Right. I'll answer the door. Man the ticket booth, Eddie!

Do you think I should have a cap or something to show my authority? [struts and poses] No, I'll just give them one of my LOOKS, yeah!

[Richie runs out to the front door]

Richie:

And welcome one, and welcome all!

[Opens the door. Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog are present.]

Oh Christ! Dave Hedgehog and Spudgun. I thought I told you to bring all your friends!?

Spudgun:

Well, we only know Eddie, and we thought he'd be here anyway.

Richie:

Oh, god. [To Hedgehog] Come on, Two pound fifty.

Hedgehog:

I've only got eight pence.

Richie:

What!? Well, I can't do the maths, but that means you can only stay for forty five seconds! Come on, in! In!

[Richie pushes them in, and slaps them to make them hurry up. They both go through the hallway out of shot.]

Richie:

[Calling out the open door] Anybody else want to come? Birds? [flutters his eyelids]

[Shot returns to the kitchen. Eddie is standing by the bath as Spudgun & Hedgehog enter.]

Spudgun & Hedgehog:

Oh, hello Eddie.

Eddie:

Hi, boys. Well, this is it, the devil's brew!

Hedgehog:

Goh!

Eddie:

You didn't happen to bring any lead tankards with you, did you? All the cups keep dissolving.

[He holds up half a corroded and blackened cup]

Spudgun & Hedgehog:

No.

Eddie:

All right, we'll have to use the pans then.

[They all take a saucepan each]

Help yourself.

[They all dip the pans into the brew]

All:

Cheers.

[They all take a drink]

Spudgun:

Ugh, cheeky little number.

[They all sit down]

Eddie:

Yes, it, it has a certain 'robustness' that demands attention.

Hedgehog:

Possibly medical.

Eddie:

Yeah.

Richie:

[Entering the room, leans against the door frame]

Well, welcome to the shag-a-thon.

Who's first with the snog, then?!

Oh god. Dear, oh dear, you'd think, on Hallowe'en of all nights I'd be able to get a bit of a feel up at least! [mimes a feel up]

Oh God, who'd be a Christian?!

I mean, I've only got to sell my soul to the devil, and I could get twenty-five years of amazing sex and cash!

[A look of profound revelation spreads slowly across his face]

Eddie:

Richie, you'd be lucky to get twenty five P!

Richie:

That's it! It's perfect!

[He turns slowly around to the other three, looking serious in a crazy kind of way]

I'm going to raise the devil!

I mean, in actual fact, I haven't been to church for years! And when I did go, I found it rather... boring.

Eddie:

Oh yeah, and what are you going to do if he gets here?

Richie:

Well, we'll do something satanic and devily, won't we?!

Eddie:

[Sarcastically] What, like trick or treating?!

Richie:

No, like...

Spudgun:

Watching Emmerdale!

Richie:

Yes! Watch... No! No!

Hedgehog:

Taking him down the pub?

Richie:

No, no, no! It's got to be something supremely evil!

Eddie:

What? Like blowing off in a phone booth and running away?

Richie:

Yes, yes, that's much more the feel.

Hedgehog:

What does the devil drink?

Spudgun:

Blood, isn't it?

Eddie:

Yeah, VIRGIN'S blood.

[All four look really nervous, scared!]

Richie:

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, it's virgin GIRLS blood.

Others:

[Sigh of relief, all relax again.]

Richie:

Oh, yeah, good, sorted, all sorted. Right, so anyone know any virgin girls?

Others:

No.

Richie:

Oh, anyone know any girls?

Others:

No.

Richie:

No, come on, Eddie! What about Ethel Cardue, your paramour.

Eddie:

She is neither a virgin, nor, technically speaking, a girl. Besides which, she hasn't been speaking to me since the super glue incident. Hasn't been speaking to anyone much, actually. [mimes trying to talk with his lips superglued together]

Richie:

No, shut up, Eddie, shut up, shut up! This is a bloody good idea! All we've got to do is find out the secret incantation, raise him up, swing the deal and Bob's your uncle, I'll be shagging by half past two!

Eddie, you make a pentangle, I'll nip up stairs and look up the secret devil raising incantation in my Ladybird Book of Witches.

Come on! Look lively, I'll buy you all a drink after my first shag!

[Another big flame shoots out the back of Richie's trousers with fart noise. Richie looks back puzzled for a moment, then leaves the room.]

Eddie:

Anyone got any pens?

[Spudgun shakes his head.]

Hedgehog:

I've got a pencil.

Eddie:

It'll have to be a pencil tangle then.

Richie:

[calling out a cry of evil as Eddie, Spudgun & Hedgehog half heatedly do the same.]

Oh come on you lot, put your backs into it! You're supposed to be devil worshippers, sound like your watching QPR!

Eddie:

[Defensive stance] Hey, careful!

Richie:

All right, all right, but come on! You couldn't raise a gnat's erection let alone the prince of darkness! Now come on, put your backs into it!

All:

[shouting the chants of evil!]

Richie:

Ohhh Blimey! Ooooh Blimey, right Eddie... Eddie!

Eddie:

What is it?

Richie:

Have you got the chalice?

Eddie:

No, it's just the way my dressing gown's rucked up around my waist.

Spudgun:

Why do we have to wear dressing gowns anyway? We look stupid.

Richie:

They're not dressing gowns, anus, they're cowls. Come on, I mean, what kind of devil worshippers are you?

Spudgun:

Ones that don't like wearing dressing gowns!

Hedgehog:

Do we get slippers?

Richie:

You don't wear slippers when your raising the evil one!

Oh, never mind. I'll go and get the chalice myself.

[Stands]

Eddie:

Oh no, I'll go, I'll go.

Richie:

No, no, no, don't bother yourself, I'll get it. But don't expect any spare off me when I've got seventeen birds all bouncing up and down on top of me non-stop.

[Goes into the kitchen and gets the pan of Sprouts Mexicane while Eddie makes a wanking to his mates.]

Richie:

Right, here we go! Oooooohhhh!

[notices the others aren't following suit]

OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!

[The others reluctantly join in the Ooooohs]

Oooohhh Mighty one!

Eddie:

Ooooh blimey!

Richie:

We ask you... to come up... from, eh...

Eddie:

Come up...

Richie:

From, eh... You know... where ever it is... ahh...

Eddie:

Where ever...

Richie:

Ahh. Well, unless someone else has called you up this evening. Ahh, which case, come across! Come across from there!

Eddie:

Come across, pop across...

Richie:

Instead of coming up from there...

[Richie has walked back to the front of the three from the kitchen.]

We show our dedication to your cause by eating the Sprouts of Evil!!

[He motions them to shout louder]

Spud gun!

Eddie:

Dearie, dearie, dearie...

[Richie gives Spudgun a mouth full of the sprouts]

Richie:

Dave Hedgehog!

[Gives Hedgehog a spoonful]

Eddie!

Eddie:

ABSOLUTLY NOT! [clamps his mouth shut]

[Richie kicks him in the knackers, as Eddie shouts in pain, Richie stuffs a spoonful of sprouts into his mouth.]

Richie:

And finally... Oh blimey, here goes!

[Richie takes a mouthful too and they all collapse face first onto the floor.]

Spudgun:

Where am I?

Hedgehog:

I think we're in Kuwait!

Are we in hell?

Richie:

No, no it's worse... We're still in the flat!

Hedgehog:

Well, where's the devil then?

Richie:

Well, he'll be turning up at midnight, won't he.

Spudgun:

Why does he always come out at midnight?

Eddie:

Well, it's chucking out time, isn't it.

Richie:

Shut up! Shut up! Look, Look! Regard the clock! Here he comes, here he comes!!!

[The clock strikes 12 with another half a 'clang']

Huh! Bloody clock.

[There are three loud echoing knocks at the door... All four scream and let loose massive flaming farts]

Richie:

That'll be him!

Eddie:

Hey, hey, hey, hey hey... Speak of the devil!! [laughs]

Richie:

Hey, hey, hey, hey I don't want to hear any language like that, young man. And I don't want anyone going around saying 'Hi, feeling horny?' This is the big one, all right. This is Mister Scary-Pants. Oh god! Just think, in twenty-five years I'll probably have no knob left from over-use!

Eddie:

So what's new?

Richie:

Right, I'll go and let him in. Best behavior, everyone. Well, no, no, no! Worst behavior, actually! Start swearing and picking your noses and stuff!

Right!

[He lets another flamer rip]

Oh what a night to get guy-fawkes bottom!

[Richie runs to the front door and opens it. A young girl in a small red mask stands at the door, very unimpressed as Richie screams in terror.]

Richie:

Good evening, O Great One!

Satan:

Hello, I'm looking for Little Dave Hedgehog.

Richie:

What?

Satan:

Dave Hedgehog?

Richie:

He, ah, he's residing within the drawing room, your Blackness, would you like to come through?

[Satan walks past him down the hall. Richie follows]

Did you have a nice, er, journey up?

Can I get you a glass of sherry?

[They enter the drawing room to see the couch is on fire with Eddie & Spudgun standing by]

Eddie:

Eh, sorry, Rich.

Richie:

Ah, er... Well done, acolytes! You've got it looking all nice and homely for His Naughtiness... Eh...

Put that out you arse-heads! We still owe on that!

[Eddie pats the fire out with a cushion]

Richie:

[Laughs] Oh, look at me, what am I thinking of?

Eh, O Great Mighty Evilness smell, ahh, these are my acolytes!

[Spudgun lets one rip, setting fire to the other side of the couch.]

Spudgun:

Don't have the sprouts.

Eddie:

Oh great! I mean I've only just put that out!

[Eddie puts it out with another pillow.]

Richie:

And, eh, acolytes, this is... I'm sorry, how do you like to be called?

Satan:

Doreen.

Richie:

This is Doreen! There's evil!

Doreen:

Look, I've come for Dave Hedgehog, is he here?

Eddie:

Yeah, he's hiding behind the home brew.

Richie:

[calling] Dave! Nemesis!

Hedgehog:

[sitting up from behind the bath, screams]

That's me! I'm damned! I didn't even want to go to a party!

[Starts praying] All things bright and beautiful...

Richie:

Yes, yes, yes, yes, all right, thank you...

Ahum [trying to catch Doreen's attention]

AHUM [Again]

Ahhahar [When she looks around]

Now, there is just one bit of outstanding business if I could just prey on your time for a little longer...

Doreen:

What?

[To Eddie] Eddie, get him a drink of blood, use your own, it's ninety percent proof.

Eddie:

Okie-Dokey!

Richie:

Right, so if we could sort of shut this deal down now, what I'm looking for is a sort of twenty-five year full-on sort of sex session, obviously with lots of cash and other comforts, in return for my Earthly soul.

[He lets another flamer go]

Sorry! Clench everyone! Sorry! Try not to set fire to the Evil One!

Eddie:

Ahh.. Ahh... AHH!

Richie:

Eddie! Don't sneeze!

Eddie:

AHHHH CHOOOO!!!!! [There is a blinding flash of light and the sound of a huge explosion.]

Richie:

Well, there goes the conservatory!

[Eddie looks around to see Hedgehog standing behind him, face blackened, hair standing on end and a fire burning on the shoulder of his dressing gown.]

Eddie:

Sorry, Hedgehog... Got a bit of a heavy head cold.

[Pats the fire out with a cushion]

Doreen:

I think you've made a big mistake here.

Richie:

Yes, I know... I think I leant a little heavy on the curry powder.

Doreen:

No, Mum sent me 'round because she doesn't like Dad staying 'round the loony's house after midnight.

Richie:

What?!

Doreen:

Look, I'm Doreen Hedgehog. [lifts her mask off]

Richie:

[Aghast] Guh! Guh!

Eddie:

[cuts his wrist with a large knife, blood sprays up into the air and Hedgehog runs off to get a glass]

What?!

Hedgehog:

Just getting you a drink, Misses Devil! Oh, hello Doreen!

Doreen:

Hello Dad.

Hedgehog:

I didn't know you were the devil!

Doreen:

Neither did I.

Hedgehog:

Well, that's handy. In that case... You got any tips for the three-thirty at Chepstow?

Spudgun:

Can we unclench now?

Richie:

Yes, yes, it's only Doreen.

[Spudgun lets a huge one rip]

Spudgun:

That's better.

Eddie:

[Blood spraying all over his face and shirt]

Look, I don't want to panic anyone, but I'm rapidly losing conscious... [collapses on the floor]

Spudgun:

Christ! Here comes another one!

Richie:

No! Spudgun, no! Mind the strong-box full of exploding carrots!

Spudgun:

What!?

[He let's one rip onto the box. The carrots explode, knocking Spudgun forward, screen fades to white, credits roll.]