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FINGER

Series 3, Episode 5
February 3, 1995

Written by
ADRIAN EDMONDSON and RIK MAYALL

Eddie:

You were.

Richie:

I wasn't!

Eddie:

You were!

Richie:

I wasn't!

Eddie:

You were!

[Richie opens the door and walks into the flat. He's wearing a pair of baggy white trousers with braces. There is a large red diagonal stripe across the crotch.]

Richie:

I bloody well wasn't!

[Eddie walks in wearing a white umpire's coat, four hats one on top of the other and has at least four jumpers tied around his chest, as well as other garments secured about his person.]

Eddie:

You were out, Richie!

Richie:

I was NOT out!

Eddie:

You were out Richie!

Richie:

I was NOT out!

Eddie:

You were!

Richie:

Bloody, bloody, bloody wasn't!

Eddie:

Look, the umpire's decision is final.

[Gives Richie a one fingered salute]

Richie:

But you weren't even looking the right way.

Eddie:

I was.

Richie:

You weren't! Eddie, you weren't even on the pitch!

Eddie:

Yeah... But I've got the coat, haven't I?

Richie:

Edward, you were in the bar.

Eddie:

Yeah, but I could still see, I was look'n out of the window.

Richie:

It was about two hundred yards away, how could you tell I was out?

Eddie:

Well, Spudgun told me.

Richie:

Spudgun was the captain of the opposite team!

Eddie:

Um, yes... Ah, but it was his 'round and I didn't want to ruffle his feathers, you know.

Richie:

Look, look, look, I wasn't out. It was a no-ball. Look, listen to me, right! I'm English, right, I invented this game, racially. Now when you bowl... [mimes the steps]

When you bowl, supposed to walk nicely back to your mark, get that sort of 'far away' look on your face, masturbate enigmatically...

[starts rubbing his hand back and forth his crotch in line with the red mark]

...you know, for about four or five minutes. So the camera's can all get you in focus....

[Keeps doing it... Starts to get turned on, then snaps out of it]

...Oh! And then, and then... And then it's time for loppity loppity lop, nice and gentle, over the arm, pop! Richie gets a six, round of applause, gentlemanly conduct, welcome to the crease. Everyone thinks I'm great, right?

Well, that psychotic Welsh BASTARD! 'Cannonball' Taffy O'Jones, doesn't want to know anything about that!

He just stands there behind the wicket, looks at me and goes [in accent] "YOU IGNORANT ENGLISH WANKER!" and whams the ball straight at me!

Before I had any chance to do any of that nice hoovering stuff with the bat and the crease. Next thing I know, I'm lying in a pile of stumps and blood!

I tell you, that is the last time I'm stepping out for the Shepherd's Bush Spudulikey Regulars.

Eddie:

Second eleven.

Richie:

Yes, all right, all right... I've got a bad leg.

Eddie:

I'm not surprised, the way you 'polish' the ball. We had a tea break waiting for your 'second delivery'.

Richie:

Did you...?

Eddie:

Hey, never mind. Look on the bright side. We've made a healthy profit of four hats, five jumpers... and three pairs of trousers!

Richie:

Three pairs of trousers?

Eddie:

Yeah, things got a bit racy in the bar afterwards.

Richie:

I don't remember that.

Eddie:

No, well you were lying unconscious in the middle of the pitch in the pouring rain at the time. That's what started off the merriment, actually. Even old Ted Unlucky 'Suicide' McGloomy had a bit of a laugh. So much so, his rectum prolapsed.

Richie:

Did it!? Poomff! [mimes the prolapsing action] Ah, well that's a result, as long as I can make someone happy. Did you check the pockets?

Eddie:

Is the Pope Jewish?

Richie:

No.

Eddie:

Isn't he?

Richie:

No!

Eddie:

Oh, well I checked 'em anyway.

Richie:

And?

Eddie:

Well, I'm afraid to say the recession is biting deep everywhere, Richie. Eh... Two pound seventeen and six...

Richie:

Oooh!

Eddie:

In old money.

Richie:

Uh.

Eddie:

A strange voodoo doll of you covered in pins.

[Eddie hands Richie the small doll]

Richie:

[laughs] Ooh! Oooh, this is weird!

[slings it over his shoulder and jumps pain when it hits the ground.] Oooh Shis....

Eddie:

And... 'Cannonball' Taffy O'Jones' car keys.

[Cunning laughter match ensues]

Richie:

Ah ha ha ha ha har.

Eddie:

A Ha ha Ha ha Har!

Richie:

Ah ha ha ha ha HA Ha ha ha har!

Eddie:

A Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha harrrr!

Richie:

Ah ha ha HA! ha ha ha har!

Eddie:

AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HAR HA HA HA HAR!

Richie:

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Eddie:

I don't know. I'm thinking about that weather girl, Susan Charlton, stripped naked and covered in Marmite, bouncing up and down on the end of a Bungee rope. What are you thinking?

Richie:

Er, well, something else, actually.

Eddie:

Not getting trapped on the rings with that black haired Gladiator's legs wrapped 'round your face again?

Richie:

Huh! No, no, no... Haven't thought about that for weeks. I really must pop up stairs later and have a good hard think about that.... Yes.... No, I was thinking about that Welsh cricket cheat, 'Cannonball' Taffy O'Jones!

Eddie:

Fantasy not your strong suit, is it, Richie.

Richie:

No, shut up, Eddie, shut up, shut up, I've got a plan. We're going to take these keys, right.

Eddie:

Yeah.

Richie:

We're going to get inside Taffy O'BASTARD's car.

Eddie:

Right.

Richie:

And you know that little light beside the rear-view mirror?

Eddie:

Yeah.

Richie:

We're going to switch that on. Then when none's looking, we're going to scarper! And within a couple of weeks, I think that guy's probably going to have a pretty flat battery! [Sits back, cockily]

Eddie:

Scary-darey.

Richie:

I tell you, I'm going to do it! I'm going to bloody do it! Where do you think his car is?

Eddie:

Well he's getting married this afternoon.

Richie:

Is he?

Eddie:

Yeah. That was his stag cricket match. That's why he was allowed to use the sling shot!

Richie:

Oh, I see [wobbles his jaw around] Hey! Does that mean we're going to the wedding?

Eddie:

No. You were only there so that he could knock you unconscious! It was a wedding present from the lads!

Richie:

Oh... Nice... So, who's he getting married to?

Eddie:

Well... You know Ted Rogers?

Richie:

He's not! He's not getting married to TED ROGERS?!

Eddie:

No. He's getting married to that bird from the abattoir that LOOKS like Ted Rogers.

Richie:

Oh! Oh... Oh that's a shame, isn't it... It'd be nice to be married to Ted Rogers.

Eddie:

Yeah!

Richie:

Yeah... 3-2-1! 3-2-1! God I bet he's good in bed! So which church are they getting married in?

Eddie:

Oh, it's that, that, that, that Welsh one, Saint urmmm... Saint...

Richie:

I know it! Saint [sound as of blowing phlegm through clenched teeth]

Eddie:

That's it! The one with all the gob running down the walls!

Richie:

Well, righty-ho then! Let's grab our hankies and get down there!

Eddie:

Yucky-Darh!

Richie:

Ducky-Yarh!

Richie:

There it is! Did you get the stockings?

Eddie:

I've got the tights.

Richie:

What?

Eddie:

Well that was all that was hanging on the line.

Richie:

Oh. Well, eh, did you get any knickers?

Eddie:

No.

Richie:

Oh well, never mind. We'll run with the tights.

Eddie:

Right.

[They both pull the single pair of stockings over their heads, one head in each leg]

Richie:

I can't see a bloody thing now! Where's the car?

Eddie:

Ah, probably over there, behind the gusset!

Richie:

Oh right. Come on, then Moriaty, let's do it!

[They walk over to the car still with the stockings holding their heads together]

Phugh! They didn't wash them very well, did they?

Eddie:

I think that might be me.

Richie:

Is it? Oh well, never mind. Come on, let's do it. Right, I'll break in, you keep a lookout, Eddie.

Eddie:

Right-o.

[Richie bends down to inspect the lock, the stockings pull Eddie down also]

Richie:

No, Eddie, you keep a look out.

Eddie:

All right!

[Eddie straightens up quickly, pulling Richie up too, cricking his neck backwards]

Richie:

Oh, Jesus! I think I've got whiplash!

Oh, phaugh! It's no good, Eddie. I'm going to have to drop my half of the disguise.

[He pulls his head out of the stockings. Eddie is now the exclusive wearer]

Eddie:

Are you sure that's wise?

Richie:

Well medically it is, yes. My eyes are beginning to sting 'cause of the niff. Come on! Let's do it!

Eddie:

Right!

[Richie takes out the keys and runs around to the driver's side. Eddie tries the handle of the passenger's side, find's that it is open and gets in. Richie selects a key...]

Richie:

Eeny, Meeny, Miney...

[Eddie opens the door from inside.]

Oh! Well done, Eddie.

[Laughs and gets in. They both close their doors.]

We did it! Great!

[Grabs the steering wheel and makes revving noises]

Hey, Eddie! Why don't we park the car 'round the corner where he can't find it! Hey! [laughs] I'm going to do it! I'm going to bloody do it! Hey, Eddie...

Eddie:

What?

Richie:

How do you actually drive a car?

Eddie:

Well, you wait until none's looking then you grab the wires from under the dashboard and jam them together until the engine fires up. Then, you drink another can of special brew, aim it at the post office and put a brick on the accelerator!

Richie:

Right... Well, I'll just stick the key in and see what happens.

Eddie:

Right-o.

[Richie cranks the car twice, the engine starts, they give each other the thumbs up as suddenly the car leaps into reverse and crashes through the front window of an Off License. Eddie quickly winds down the window and starts grabbing cans of beer]

Oooh! Look, special offer! Right, step on it, I think they've noticed.

Richie:

But I don't know how to drive!

[Richie sticks the car in forward gear and floors it.]

SHIT! SHIT!

Eddie:

Mind that bus!

Richie:

This is the life, hey, Eddie?

Eddie:

Mmmm [drinking]

Richie:

This is just like Thelma & Louise, isn't it.

Eddie:

Yeah, well, we are on the right hand side of the road.

Richie:

Yeah! What?! Bloody hell!

[He grabs the wheel and swings the car violently across the road. Another motorist honk's blares their horn. Richie hangs out the window, sticks his fingers up at them]

Bastard! Road hog! I was driving on that bit!

Eddie:

Richie, look at this! [Holds up a brochure]

It's a lover's romanta-saver bargain luxury glamorous weekend break for two! These must be Taffy O'Jones' honeymoon tickets!

Ah ha ha ha har!

Richie:

Oh! A ha ha ha ha har!

Eddie:

Ha ha har...

Richie:

Where is it?

Eddie:

The 'Marvelloso Splendido Hotel-o'

Richie:

Wow! ... Where's that?

Eddie:

Wolverhampton.

Richie:

Double wow! Hey Eddie,

Eddie:

Yeah?

Richie:

Which way is Wolverhampton?

Eddie:

Well it must be over one of these hills.

Richie:

Right... Ah, Eeny, Meeny, Mine... Oh, look we'll just take the quick route.

Eddie:

Right you are.

[Richie yanks the steering wheel hard left]

Richie:

Look out! Hedge!

[Large branches crash over the windscreen.]

Richie:

[Shouts out the window] COW!

Eddie:

That's a bit rude, isn't it, Richie!

Richie:

No, no, it was! It was a cow!

Eddie:

Oh.

Richie:

[Laughs] What are those two big hairy things coming out of that hedge?!

Eddie:

Oh, that's just a pair of bullocks.

Richie:

Is it? Oh, that's all right then.

Eddie:

[Shouts out window] Put your trousers back on!!

Richie:

Wow! Marvelloso!

[Eddie, dressed in a purple dress, tights and high heels, wearing a large wig and excessive make up stumbles through the doors behind Richie, dropping the three suitcases he was carrying.]

Eddie:

[looks around] Splendido!

Richie:

All right, Misses O'Jones ? [taps his nose]

Eddie:

All right, Mister O'Jones ? [taps his nose]

Richie:

Let's have some fun!

Eddie:

Yeah, see how much of a bill we can work up in three days!

Richie:

Yeah, that'll teach that Welsh BASTARD!

Let's go!

[Eddie steps forward, Richie suddenly calls him back]

Oh! Eddie! Eddie!

Eddie:

What?

Richie:

You've got your jugs on the wrong way 'round!

Eddie:

What?!

[Eddie turns around, his fake breasts making two large lumps in the back of his dress]

It said 'lifts and separates' not 'slings 'em 'round the back'!

Richie:

I mean, they're absolute CRACKERS, Eddie, they're just back-the-front!

Eddie:

Well?!?

Richie:

Well, just act naturally.

[Eddie turns around, facing backwards, they link arms and step up to the desk and Richie rings the bell.]

Clerk:

Aah, you must be the happy couple.

Eddie:

Pass!

Richie:

No! ... [to Eddie] YES!

Eddie:

Yes? Yes! Correct!

Clerk:

Ah, which one of you is Misses O'Jones?

Eddie:

[turns around and points to his jugs] That'll be me.

Clerk:

There are some flowers here for you.

Eddie:

Hang on! What do you take me for?! Some sort of baggy trousered ballet enthusiast?! [starts beating the receptionist over the head with the bouquet of flowers]

Get me a large scotch and a copy of [????]

[Grabs the receptionist by his jacket]

Richie:

No! No! Edwina!

Eddie:

Just because I'm a bird, it doesn't mean I'm not handy with me dukes!

Richie:

Edwina! Leave him alone!

[to Receptionist] I'm sorry! She had a bit too much vodka in the church. Don't worry, I'll give her a good kicking once we get upstairs.

Clerk:

Right... The ah, bridal suite is ready for you.

Richie:

[takes the key] The what?

Clerk:

Well... You're in the bridal suite.

Richie:

No, no... No. NO, no no no no, no, no NNo, no no no. No, we'd rather have two single rooms if that's okay?

Clerk:

Oh dear, things not going swimmingly? Never mind, most couples are rather nervous at this stage.

Richie:

No, you don't understand. I do not want to spend a night in the same room as her.

Eddie:

Him... It!

Clerk:

Well, I'm afraid we have no single rooms available.

Richie:

Yeah, but what if I want to have a wan... a... a wangle... It's a... It's a medieval folk dance.

[Eddie does his impression of the wangle dance... looks rather reminiscent of milking a cow with two hands]

What if I want to have a medieval folk dance on me own in the middle of the night?

Clerk:

I'm afraid the bridal suite is all we have.

Eddie:

Ooooh, he's testing my nerves!

Richie:

What sort of a hotel do you call this?!

Clerk:

A full one.

Richie:

Yeah! Good answer!

Eddie:

Yeah! Yeah, well done. [claps]

Richie:

Well, all right then, Eddie, ah... Eddie-weiner... You'll just have to sleep on the sofa.

Eddie:

On my honeymoon!

[shouts loud so other people in the hotel can hear]

Sleep on the sofa on my honeymoon? [fake sobs]

My mother warned me about you, YOU BASTARD!

[Punches Richie in the face]

You Brute!

[Punches him again]

You gadabout!

[Kicks him in the knackers]

Oh how I've suffered in the name of love!

[Punches Richie HARD in the face, knocking him to the ground.]

Oh! Only women bleed!

Richie:

Yeah, I think I'd dispute that actually, Eddie. [holds a blood-stained hanky to his nose.]

Eddie:

Well have you had enough or do you want some more?

Richie:

All right! All right! I've had plenty. Of course, you can have the bed, darling.

Eddie:

Why, thank you, tulip.

Richie:

Oh, and daffodil?

Eddie:

Yes, carnation?

Richie:

GET THIS! [delivers a massive kick to Eddie's bollocks]

Eddie:

[clutching his knackers] WOW!!! OH ME BOLLO....

[Sees everyone watching] I mean me girl's bits!!

I mean my nothings at all. In fact, thank goodness I am a girl, otherwise that would have REALLY hurt! I think I'm gonna pass out, you know... Yep, I was right.

[He collapses unconscious to the floor. The rest of the hotel patrons stare]

Richie:

[big fake laugh] She only got married this morning, she's still a little on the shy... unconscious side.

Come along, darling! Let's slap on a condom and get on with it!

[starts dragging Eddie by the heels]

[to receptionist] What time's dinner?

Clerk:

Seven o'clock.

Richie:

Seven o'... But that's twenty minutes away! Goh, I'm going to have to do it four times!

[Starts dragging Eddie up the stairs]

Yo-heave-ho...

Porter:

Your bags, sir.

Richie:

What? Are they showing? [inspects his trousers]

Oh! Oh, ah, see what you mean, yes, uh... Yes, jolly good place to put them, excellent, yes.

[The porter holds out his hand for a tip]

What! SOD OFF!!!! [chases the porter out of the room]

You earn more money than I do! You ought to be giving me some of yours!! Complete bastard! [closes the door]

Ahhh! Looks like a little opportunity for a little medieval folk dance in the bathroom!

[he walks across to the bathroom door, unzipping his fly. There is a knock at the door and a maid enters, holding a tray of biscuits]

Richie:

Oh... [does up his fly] Hello. You're one of those sort of servant girls, aren't you. If I may say so, eh, that's a smashing blouse you have on.

Maid:

I've just brought your complimentary honeymoon biscuits.

Richie:

Oh! You raven haired temptress from below stairs. Ha! I expect you're rather nervous to meet me, aren't you?

[closes the door behind her.] Don't be nervous.

Maid:

I'm not. [goes over to a table to place the biscuits]

Richie:

Oh! A spirited filly! Ha! And good teeth, too, yes! Yes, fine stock. Ha! Mmm! [slaps her behind] Firm!

Maid:

Do you mind!!?

Richie:

[Long dignified fake laugh] It's interesting, this relationship, isn't it?

Maid:

Interesting in what way?

Richie:

Well, in that, you're the servant girl... And I'm the master. And you have to DO everything I say!

Maid:

I was wondering if you wanted me to turn your bed down?

Richie:

[excited] What do you mean?

Maid:

Some of the guests like me to pull the sheets down a bit.

Richie:

Do they? Yes! [snaps his fingers] Yes, and while you're at it, I'd like you to get down on all fours and scrub out the fireplace so you're bum wobbles about the place!

Oh... And while we're on the subject, I wonder if you could 'show me' how to use the shower!?

[Richie pushes the bathroom door open with a thrust of his hips.]

Maid:

Well, um...

[She walks into the bathroom, Richie thrusts his 'nads at her when she goes past, but misses.]

Maid:

[points to the bath] You just turn these taps on, 'ere.

Richie:

No, no. I mean, I wonder if you could properly show me... [closes the bathroom door] how to use it... You know... Get your kit off and get all sort of soapy and let rivulets of water run between your heaving breasts!

Maid:

I thought you just got married this morning!

Richie:

Ah, well yes I did, you see, my wife doesn't understand me!

[Eddie opens the door]

Eddie:

I think you'll find I understand you only too well!

Richie:

Edwina! Ah, this is not what it seems!

Eddie:

You were trying to pork her!

Richie:

No, no, no... I simply don't understand how the shower works!

Maid:

He was trying to pork me, you know.

Eddie:

Of course he was, my dear. Men!

P'shore! [exclamation of contempt]

[He punches Richie in the face]

They're only ever after one thing! Sexist BASTARDS!

[He guides the maid out of the bathroom & shuts the door]

Us birds should stick together. [puts his arm around her]

Maybe in the nude. Tell me, my dear, are you at all interested in the pleasures of Sapho? Perhaps you'd like to come on a winter wonderland waterbed cruise to the isle of Lesbos?!

Maid:

You're worse than your 'usband!!

[Kick's Eddie in the knackers. Eddie screams to camera]

Eddie:

I tell you what, Rich; if anyone else kicks me in the knackers, this charade is going to be increasingly difficult to sustain. They're getting pretty hard to conceal... I mean they must be about this big by now!!

Richie:

Yes, all right, Eddie, all right, all right. Shut up and act posh or we'll get found out.

Eddie:

Right you are.

[They link arms and start elegantly descending the staircase, then both fall arse-over head down the stairs, Richie careens across the floor and smacks face first onto the bell on the reception desk.]

Clerk:

Can I help you, sir?

Richie:

Not just now, thanks. [collapses]

[Eddie pulls himself to his feet in front of the waiter outside the dining room.]

Waiter:

[French accent] Good evening, madam.

Eddie:

Do I know you?

Waiter:

Do you have a reservation?

Eddie:

Yeah, I'm not sure we're going to get away with this.

Waiter:

Would madam like to come through?

Eddie:

HOW DARE YOU?!!

[Eddie punches him in the face, sending him crashing backwards into a glass display case. The Maitre'd arrives, after hearing the crash. On seeing the collapsed waiter, says something in French (Mon Deu! ???) and kick's the fallen man.]

Richie:

Eddie! Eddie! ... I mean, Edwina! Don't bob the waiters, this is a posh gaff!

Eddie:

Sexist bastards!!

Richie:

[laughs] Ah, my wife, ah, doesn't speak French, but ah, jer do.. Jacques DeLores... Tour de France... garlic suppository...

Eddie:

Cock-o-van...

Richie:

Edwina! Don't be so foul! I'm sorry, she's just got married this morning, she's still a bit frisky. Well, you'd understand that, you're a frog, aren't you.

Now, where is jer's table for jer and jer's missus?

Maitre'd:

Would you care to walk this way?

[snaps his fingers and walks through to the dining room.]

Richie:

I'd rather not.

Eddie:

Well, I'm afraid I have to...

[they both follow the Maitre'd in, snapping their fingers 'like' he did.]

...these, eh, these saucy honeymoon undies are a bit on the cutting severe side.

Richie:

Don't you worry, Eddie, you can always take them off...

Eddie:

Yeah...

Richie:

Later, or maybe I'll rip them off with my bare teeth! Oh no! It's not a girl, it's Eddie! It's Eddie! It's not a girl, it's Eddie! It's not a girl, it's Eddie! Oh god I hope I don't get drunk!!!

[Scene switches to a table in the crowded restaurant, the Maitre'd holds the chair for Eddie.]

Maitre'd:

Here we are.

Eddie:

Yeah, well, I can see that.

[takes off his pink jacket and throws it on the ground. Richie takes his seat and the Maitre'd helps seat Eddie.]

Oi! Careful of me jugs, don't pop 'em!

Maitre'd:

Would you like to see the menu?

Eddie:

Yeah, I'd better have a look at it now, I'll probably be too pissed to read in half an hour.

[the Maitre'd hands them each a menu.]

Richie:

Oh yes, this is a very poncy menu, isn't it... Yes, very poncy, it's all in French, yes. Can't understand a word of it, yes, marvelous... [tosses it over his shoulder] What do you recommend?

Maitre'd:

The chef does a very good red mullet.

Eddie:

Oh really?! Well he [refering to Richie] does a very good Leonard Rosseter, don't you?

Richie:

Oh... Well...

Eddie:

Go on!

Richie:

No, no...

Eddie:

Go on!

Richie:

Oh, all right! It is brilliant! Right! [to the entire restaurant] Everybody shut up, shut up! All of you, shut up!

[points to someone at another table]

You! You! Shut it! Now! All right?!

[Stands up on his chair, head & shoulders shot of Richie]

Now I'm only going to do this once, right, 'cause when I get started, I never stop! Because I am BONKERS, right! Okay! Here goes... Leonard Rosseter... [laughs] "Oh, Miss Jones! Oh, Miss Jones!"

Maitre'd:

Well that was incredible.

Richie:

Thank you. [climbs down]

Maitre'd:

I've never seen anyone clear a restaurant so quickly.

[shot shows the now empty restaurant]

Richie:

What?

Maitre'd:

And so, what would you like, Madam? Entrée?

Richie:

What do you mean? Here? In the restaurant? I'd rather not, thank you. I think we'll just have a main course!

Eddie:

Oh, come on, that's enough of all the bollocks. Look, Audrie, man to man... Ah, well, bird to man, obviously, we just want two plates of top class swanky nosh, all right? Le top le class le swanky le noshie, compreney-nendy-nony? Oooh! Oooh! And I'll have a large scotch.

Maitre'd:

A double?

Eddie:

No, half a pint.

Maitre'd:

And for the gentleman?

Richie:

Oh, well, diddly-diddly-do, ah... What is a top class swanky tipple?

Maitre'd:

Depends where you come from, sir.

Richie:

Oh, well I come from Hammersmith. [emphasizes 'smith']

Maitre'd:

Half of mild...

Richie:

Oooh yes... Yes that'd be lovely. And bung an umbrella in it.

Maitre'd:

Very well. Would you like to see the wine list?

[hands the list to Eddie]

Eddie:

Um, well I think we'll just have one of each.

Maitre'd:

Oh! Very well, one red, one white...

Eddie:

No, no, one of each number.

Maitre'd:

Certainly, sir.

Eddie:

And now... Bugger off again!

[Grabs the Maitre'd's jacket as he is leaving]

Hey, hey! And Audrie, no dribbling in the gravy! We know what you French are like.

Richie:

Oh Yeah! And while we're on the subject, no hollowing out the fish fingers and poking dog shit in, [to Eddie] Yeah, 'cause you get me every time with that, don't you!

Eddie:

I certainly do!

Maitre'd:

Very good, Sir, now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm getting a hernia... With laughing so much. [leaves]

Richie:

[laughs] Oh, yes. We are pretty crazy guys, you have to watch it around us two.

Eddie:

Well, except that I'm a bird.

Richie:

Oh yes, except that he's a bir... Oh, he's gone. Charming man.

Eddie:

Oh, lovely.

Richie:

I mean, it's marvelous service. Hey, do you think you're on?

Eddie:

It's hard to tell. This peek-a-boo bra is so tight, it's cut off the circulation to my head.

[The barman arrives with the drinks]

Waiter:

The half a pint of whisky is for...

Eddie:

That's for me, thank you. [takes it and starts drinking]

Waiter:

And the glass of brown shit with the fury liquid on top is for Monsieur.

[Richie takes his drink. Eddie places his now empty glass back on the barman's tray]

Eddie:

Great! I'll have another three of those, thank you.

[Waiter walks off]

Oh, I think this could be a very entertaining evening!

[collapses off his chair]

Eddie:

Hey! It's no wonder us birds wear high heels, is it?

[She pauses at the basin next to Eddie and looks down, startled at the unexpected spectacle.]

I mean, these urinals are a bit on the high side, aren't they?! Hey! You're a proper bird, aren't you! I'll just finish off here then we can have a bit of a bunk-up in the cubicles, all right?!

Woman:

I beg your pardon!!

[Eddie 'finishes off']

Eddie:

Look, it's all right... My husband doesn't understand me!

[He staggers forward, puts his arm around her shoulder]

Woman:

Why not?

Eddie:

Because I'm too pissed to talk most of the time! Come on, it'll be all right... I'm a lesbian, you know!

Richie:

[addressing a table to his left, out of shot] Huh, yes, we used the A-40 most of the way, yes, yes. Had an awful lot of trouble getting over the river seven... We used a bridge in the end, yes.

Hmm? No, I don't know what kind of car it is... It's ah, it's the orange one in the car park with dents and the blood splattered up the side. You know and the dead cow poking out of the boot. You could've had a few chops if you'd liked! Not at all! Not at all! Yes, I suppose I am a bit of a great bloke, really, aren't I, yes...

That was a nice chat. Shame I haven't got someone real to talk to.

Eddie:

[shouts from off camera] Rich! RICH!

Richie:

Oh, excuse me, Sir Robert, she who must be obeyed beconneth... What? Well, you must come down and shoot my grouse some time! Yes, his name's Keith!

Eddie:

RICH!!!

Richie:

Coming, fruit salad! [waves goodbye to imaginary Sir Robert]

[Scene switches to the bar, Eddie hobbles over to the bar-tender.]

Eddie:

Oh, ow! It... It's happened again, Rich!

Richie:

Oh no!

Eddie:

Let me give you a bit tip; if you're ever pretending to be a lesbian, keep your tackle really well hidden.

Richie:

Right.

Barman:

Bon soir! Would ze lovely new, brand spanking new bride, a sad loss to us hot blooded men, like a little drinky-winky on ze 'ouse, eh? [starts kissing Eddie's hand]

Richie:

Do you mind!?

Eddie:

Shut up, Rich! [smashes a bottle over Richie's head. Richie collapses behind the bar] Why, that's, that's very kind of you, thank you... I'll have pint of mild.

Barman:

A pint of mild!

Eddie:

Yeah, make it a double!

Barman:

A double! [he turns around to pour the drink]

Eddie:

Oh! What a cracking pair of buns you've got there!

[Richie stands up, looking confused at Eddie]

I bet you can pull more than pints, Hey! Hey! HEY! HEY! HEY!! Come on, let's run away together to a brewery far from the rat race!

[The Bartender laughs seductively. Eddie replies, blowing squeaky noises from a pipe he's been playing with since arriving at the hotel]

Richie:

Edwina?!

[Eddie & the bartender again exchange laughs/squeaks]

Edwina!

[And again, louder]

EDDIE!

Eddie:

Yup?

Richie:

Stop talking to that man! He's just trying to get inside your pants!

Eddie:

He'll have a job, mate! I mean Cwoh! The expansion! The elastic's on critical!

Richie:

[loudly] Right, that's it! Time for bed I think!

Eddie:

Eh? Bugger off! I think I'm on, here!

Richie:

[shouting] Look! I don't want to cause a scene, or anything DARLING! But we are married now, and you have to do everything I say!

[Eddie turns his attention back to the bartender]

Eddie:

Oh, you lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely, [barman breaths out in Eddie's face] ...Barman! Come on! Let's have another five pints!

Barman:

Five pints!

Eddie:

Yeah! Five pints!

[Eddie turns around and the barman gropes his jugs on his back]

Richie:

Right! That is it! We've only been married for only twelve hours and look at you, you trollop! Openly flirting with the barman! [more jug groping]

Everybody's looking at us! Everybody knows we're newly weds! Right! That's it! I've got a good mind to take my belt to you, you trollop!

Eddie:

[to the barman] Wait for me.

[He punches Richie so hard that they both tumble to the ground. The barman rushes around the bar and grabs Eddie under the arms to help him/her/it up.]

Barman:

Oh-la-la... Such a big girl, eh!

Eddie:

Hey! Careful, don't pop 'em!

Richie:

Get your hands off my wife!

Barman:

I was only picking her up, eh!

[Richie & Eddie are now in front of the open main doors of the hotel]

Richie:

Listen! He openly admits it! All right, that's it! Come on! Put up your dukes, you foul... French... lecher!

Barman:

[pointing behind them] Look! It's Ted Rogers in a dress!

Richie:

Yeah, and don't try that old 'hey look it's Ted Rogers in a dress' routine on me, buster. Come on, get over here and get some old fashioned British violence!

Barman:

But it is Ted Rogers in a wedding dress! With a big seven foot Neanderthal figure!

Eddie:

[turns around] That's not Ted Rogers! That's that bird from the abattoir that's getting married to 'Cannonball' Taffy O'Jones!

Richie:

Yeah!

Richie & Eddie:

[gasp] 'CANNONBALL' TAFFE O'JONES!!!!

Taffy:

That's right, you ignorant English Wunkers!

[Two cricket balls hit Richie & Eddie in the face, freeze frame, the end.]