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The Young Ones - Boring

Written by Ben Elton, Rik Mayall, and Lise Mayer
Additional material by Alexei Sayle




RAT #1: Heh! Well I'll see you Jimmy. 

RAT #2: Well I got the seven of spades! 

RAT #3: You haven't.

RAT #2: I'm a mouse!








NEIL: Morning has broken. 


MIKE: She loves me... she loves me lots. She loves me... she loves me lots. 

VYVYAN: Well... 

MIKE: She loves me... 

VYVYAN: I've finished the new car competition. I'm gonna win a Ford Tippex any minute. 

VYVYAN: It's quite easy really. All you gotta do is match up six pictures of famous noses with six pictures of famous bogies. 

VYVYAN: Thought that'd shock you. Well, it's not true, because then, then you gotta say in ten words "what cornflakes mean to you". So I put: "Cornflakes. Cornflakes. Cornflakes, cornflakes, cornflakes... cornflakes, cornflakes, cornflakes, cornflakes." 

RICK: Pathetic. You'll never win, Vyvyan. 

VYVYAN: Why not? 

RICK: It's only nine words. 

VYVYAN: Oh yeah. "Cornflakes." 

RICK: Anyway, you'll still never win 'cause nothing interesting ever happens to us. 

VYVYAN: Stop being so boring, Rick. 

RICK: Oh, that's nice, isn't it? That's very nice! Coming from someone as boring as you! 

NEIL: Look! Can you two guys stop hassling each other, I'm getting really bored with it, all right? 

RICK: Ooh! Dear me! Poor old Neil's getting bored! The most boring person in the whole world's finally getting a taste of his own medicine! 

MIKE: Listen, I think we're overdoing the boredom motif in this conversation. It's time for us to extend our vocabulary. 

NEIL: All right, all I said, Mike, was I was getting really bored! 

VYVYAN: [SIMULTANEOUSLY with NEIL]Yeah, we heard what you said, and it was very boring! 

MIKE: Vyv, I thought we decided to-- 

VYVYAN: Yes, YOU decided, Michael! 

RICK: Guys! Guys! Look at us! Squabbling! Bickering! Like children! What's happening to us? We never used to be like this! 

VYVYAN: Yes we did. 

MIKE: You know, he's right, Rick, we've always been like this. 

RICK: Well--yes--I know, but-- But that's just exactly my point! Nothing ever changes, nothing ever happens to us! 

VYVYAN: Monopoly? 

RICK: Yes. 


RICK: Ha ha, Mike! Landed on the Old Kent Road, that's mine, rent, come on, pay up, now. 

MIKE: Yeah, all right, all right, I think the Mike Exchequer can handle a debt of four pounds. 

RICK: Hey, wouldn't it be a-mazing if all of this money was real? 

VYVYAN: That is the single most predictable and boring thing that anybody could ever say while playing Monopoly. 

RICK: Well, what about "Vyvyan"? I could say "Vyvyan", couldn't I? That'd be pretty boring. 

VYVYAN: "You have won second prize in a beauty contest..." 

RICK: Ha ha ha! 

VYVYAN: "...smash Rick over the head with the bank!" 

RICK: It did not say that! Michael, Vyvyan is cheating! 

VYVYAN: Mike? 

MIKE: No, he's right, Rick, that's exactly what it says. 

RICK: In Biro, Mike, in Biro, over the top of the print! 

VYVYAN: But we had to change the rules because Monopoly's so boring! 

RICK: "Congratulations, it is your birthday! You may set fire to Rick's bed!" 

VYVYAN: Good one! 

RICK: "Get out of jail free: You may keep this card, sell it, or stick it up Rick's bottom"! Vyvyan, you've ruined the game! 


MIKE: Yeah, well, that's nothing. Neil got so bored he's gone down to the garden to kill himself. And it's his go! 


NEIL: You're a spade. I always call him that. 

NEIL: From Monopoly to the grave... the most interesting thing that ever happens to me is sneezing. I wish I was Magnus Magnusson. 

MIKE: Hey, Neil. Sitting round a Monopoly board may be a great way of spending Christmas, but I don't want to wait that long.

NEIL: No, no, Mike, it's all right, uh, I'm just digging a grave. Uh, I don't think I'm gonna kill myself today, actually, but, uh... just in case, you know...


KING: You know, living in a world where nothing boring ever happens can be a real pisser. 

MINION: Sire, the man in the time machine has just returned with the actual video of the birth of Christ. Would you care to- 

KING: Not now, minion! 

MINION: Also, next door, the Rolling Stones are making a new album, while two hippopotamus make love underneath the theatre. 

QUEEN: The king is bored with interesting things, minion... and so am I. 

KING: What I want is to meet someone who is totally and utterly mindnumbingly boring. But I suppose I never will. 


NEIL: I suppose it's because I'm so mind-numbingly boring that I never get to meet any interesting people. 

RICK: Oh, so you decided to come in, now, have you, Neil? Well, we've finished playing Monopoly now, and you lost. 

NEIL: Oh. I'm amazed I lost as long as I did. 

MIKE: There's someone at the door, Rick. 

RICK: There's someone at the door, Vyvyan. 

VYVYAN: There's someone at the door, Neil. 

NEIL: There's someone at the door, Mike. 

MIKE: I know! 

MIKE: There's someone at the door, Rick! 

RICK: There's someone at the door, Vyvyan! 

VYVYAN: There's someone at the door, Mike! 

NEIL: There's someone at the door, Neil! 

MIKE: Well, don't look at me, I'm in Paris. 

VYVYAN: You haven't left the house all day! 

MIKE: Vyvyan, you ever heard of cloning? 


MIKE: Oh, that's good, would you swear to that? 

VYVYAN: Certainly. If that's what you want. 

VYVYAN: Big jobs!

RICK: Owwww!

NEIL: Hey! Hey guys! Great idea, listen. Listen. Why don't we, right, decide who's gonna answer the door, right, and then, and then that person could, like, go and answer it, right, and then, and then find out who it is and who they want to see, right, and then, like, come back in here and tell whoever it is...

NEIL: ...that there's somebody who wants to see them, yeah? 

MIKE: Neil, do me a favor.

NEIL: What?

MIKE: Die.

NEIL: So I suppose I'll just have to go and answer it myself, as usual.

BILLY: Arright? Somebody call a taxi?

MIKE: Billy Balowski. Yeah, so who needs pleasure? Hello, Billy!

MIKE: How are the trees?

BILLY: 'Oo called a taxi??

MIKE: What do you want, Billy? You got a message from Mr. Balowski?

BILLY: I'm Mr. Balowski!

MIKE: No no no, your brother Jerzy, you got a message from him?

BILLY: Got a piece of paper... 'ooever called a taxi, um, they can have the message.

RICK: All right, all right. I called the taxi. 

BILLY: Okay-dokey, Skip! Where'd you want to go?

RICK: I don't want to go anywhere!

BILLY: Well what the bloody hell'd you call a taxi for then?? I had to come all the way from Brazil for this, you know! They'll stop it out me wages. You know how much a taxi driver earns? I can't even afford to buy new shoe laces!

RICK: Well it's a good job you're not a taxi driver, then, isn't it!

BILLY: It's a good job I'm wearing Wellingtons!

VYVYAN: Look! Just give us the note!

BILLY: I'm thirsty.

MIKE: It's in the cupboard.

MIKE: Oh no, not the goldfish.


FISH: Ahem. "Don't worry, goldfish everywhere. I am in fact a stunt goldfish. In fact, by the time this program comes out, I shall be doing the new James Bond film. So, there's no need to write in."

POTATO: Sure! They never read the letters anyway.


BILLY: Ohh, hello pussy cat! It's yer Uncle Billy! 'Ere! What you doin' in a bucket? Come on, everybody, let's play Daleks! 

BILLY: Exterminate, exterminate, exterminate, exterminate! 'Ere, 'ere, 'ere, 'ere, look, what am I now, what am I now? Come on, come on, come on, quick quick quick quick quick, what am I now?

MIKE: A pain in the ass.

BILLY: No, I'm a hairbrush, dolt! Okay, let's try another one, let's try another one, here we go.

BILLY: What am I now, what am I now, come on?

RICK: Clinically insane.

BILLY: No, "Little House on the Prairie". 

MIKE: Billy.

BILLY: Sir Billy.

MIKE: Ah-ah-ah-ah -- Sir Billy...

VYVYAN: Look! Why don't you just go away!

BILLY: 'Cause I've got a message for ya!

VYVYAN: Then give it to us!

BILLY: Oh, doesn't he get excited!

VYVYAN: Aauggggggh!

BILLY: Right. Here we are. This is the message. I shall read it to you. Are we ready, clocks? Right. Here we--'ang on. There's no words on this. Oh, I think they must have fallen off somewheres, I--oh no, it's all right, they're on the other side, that's okay, right. 

RICK: Finders keepers, losers weepers!

MIKE: Rick.

BILLY: I've not always been mad, you know, but um... I was actually driven mad by the indifference of architects and council planners. You see, I live in a tower block, and um, the thing about those is, there's terrible noise problems, 'cause there's no noise insulation at all, you know, and eight floors below you, there's always some bastard who's got a Yamaha home organ, you know. You're just about to go to sleep and you hear this "DOOT DOOT! TCH-TCH, DOOT DOOT! TCH-TCH, ROLL-OUT-THE-BARRELS! DOOT-DOOT, TCH-TCH, DOOT DOOT, TCH-TCH" And like, the people who live upstairs from me, I can't understand what they're doing, you know, I listen. And all I can hear is this weird noise that goes, "Whoom whoom! Blam blam! Whoom whoom! Blam blam!" It sounds, right, it sounds like two elephants on a motorbike riding round and round, while a seal bangs a kipper on the table! I went upstairs to complain, and the door was answered by this elephant in a crash helmet! Standing behind him's this seal going, "What is it now, Ralph?" 

BILLY: I dunno, it's just something cracked inside, and I started thinking I was a piece of sponge. I just started to get very depressed, I just can't hold it down...

VYVYAN: What does the note say, Mike?

MIKE: "Dear boys. Don't let Billy near the goldfish bowl. Your friend and landlord, Jerzy Balowski.

NEIL: There's no one there!

RICK: God, how boring.


FTUMCH: Would Mr. Sordid like some cake?

MAN: Oh yes, please.

FTUMCH: There we are, then. 

MAN: Oh!

FTUMCH: That looks like, doesn't it?

MAN: Yes, thank you. 

FTUMCH: Anything wrong?

MAN: Well, I can't reach it.

FTUMCH:  It can't reach it. No problem. 

FTUMCH: Oh, look, it spilt some.

ORGO: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

FTUMCH: Who's a naughty boy, then? We'll have to get that cleaned up, won't we?

MAN: Yeah!

FTUMCH: Here, Orgo?

ORGO: Yes, Footma?

FTUMCH: Ftumch! 

MAN: Ftumch!

FTUMCH: Yeah, pass me that can of lager, would you?

FTUMCH: We'll soon have it looking like a new bin.

FTUMCH: Brillo pad?

MAN: B--oh, no! No, please! Oh, no! Ohhhhh, oohhh, ohhhh...! 

FTUMCH: Let's give it some Barry Manilow.

FTUMCH: It really gets off on Barry!

ORGO: Yeah!

FTUMCH: Orgo? Any news of your promotion?

ORGO: Oh... yeah! Uh, I've only another ten souls to collect, and I'm eligible for a nice cushy job in Admin. Mind you, it's taken me five millenia to get this far, cause no one ever summons you up to Earth with a name like Orgo. I mean, people don't say "Orgo" by accident.

ORGO: Oh, is it not loud enough for you?

FTUMCH: Well at least you're in wiv a chance, I mean, someone might say, "Shall we go to the theatre, OR GO to cinema?" Or they might say, "Shall we go shopping, OR GO--" brbrbrbrbrbrb! But no one ever says my name. No one ever says Ftumch. Why couldn't I be called William?

ORGO: I don't know.

FTUMCH: Here. Look at this.

MAN: Baauuugggggghhh!

FTUMCH: What's that?

ORGO: I don't know!

FTUMCH: "Bloody hell"!


RICK: Bloody hell.

RICK: No room for me on the sofa as usual. I'll have to sit on the rickety chair. Oh! Er, goody goody gumdrops! Just in time to watch "Oh, Crikey" on ITV!

NEIL: Oh, Rick! We were watching "Bastard Squad"! 

RICK: Oh, were you? Oh, well, get up out of the sofa, and go and turn it over if you want, I don't mind.

NEIL: Oh, um... no, I've hurt my back.

RICK: Oh. What a shame.


WOMAN: Oh, no! That must be the vicar! Go answer the door, darling!

MAN: Why can't you?

WOMAN: I have my apron on!

WOMAN: I know--I'll go to the kitchen and take it off while you answer the door!

MAN: Right!

MAN: Uh--no!

MAN: Oh dear, my trousers have fallen down and the dog's in the sitting room! Lucky the vicar didn't see.

MAN: No, no, come here, no, hold still...!

VICAR: Oh, Crikey!

WOMAN: Oh, Crikey!

MAN: I can explain! Oh, Crikey!


RICK: Ha ha, fooled you! Thought you'd been really clever, didn't you, but you fell right into my trap! Now you can sit on the rickety chair!

VYVYAN: Oh yeah?

RICK: Oh yeah!

RICK: Well, I think I'll just sit here on the floor, if that's all right with you lot, then. It's all right, Mike, I'm not in your way or anything, am I?

VYVYAN: This is my favorite program. It'd just be typical if it was interrupted by a newsflash, about a siege or something like that.

TV ANNOUNCER: We interrupt tonight's scheduled program, "The Bastard Squad", to bring you up-to-the-minute coverage of a siege which is now underway in North London. We join BBC's reporter Dan Prick, on the spot. Dan.

DAN: A man, believed to be a lunatic foreign terrorist, one of those greaseball raving reds who seem to crop up everywhere since we stopped running the world, is now taking refuge in an insanitary slum dwelling in North London, the sort of place where you normally get squatters anyway. A police and army siege is now underway.

RICK: Oh, Christ. Boring! Look, now we get a shot of a street for the next four hours. Nothing ever happens in these things! Well, if it does happen, we don't get to see it.

DAN: Yes, it looks as though something is happening now! The police and the army are moving in!

RICK: Huh! Right on! Rule Brittania!

RICK: Tiny figure in the middle distance jumps over a gate, huh! Rule Brittania!

RICK: They're dubbing that sound on, that's never real! 

NEIL: Doesn't that look like your car, Vyv?

VYVYAN: Nah. Mine's a yellow Ford Anglia with flames up the side.

NEIL: But that's a yellow Ford Anglia with flames up the side.

VYVYAN: Yeah, but it's not mine, is it?

VYVYAN: Cor! That was a loud one.

RICK: Look--is anybody watching this?

DAN: : Well, that looks like it. We're sorry not to bring you "The Bastard Squad", but at least we got the mad coon with the gun, eh?

NEIL: Hey! Guys! Why don't we... eat? That'd be quite interesting, wouldn't it? Yes! Yes!

NEIL: Yes, eat! Eat! I wonder how many lentils I've ever eaten in my life.


NEIL: No, it must be more than that, Vyv. Lentils are really good, you know? No matter how many times you have them, they never get boring.

RICK: Neil, that's our tea! You've just blown up our tea! 

NEIL: We--well, I didn't do it on purpose, Rick!

RICK: And we paid for that--fifteen pence, come on, pay up now, fifteen pence.

NEIL: Yeah, but--but I haven't collected this week's money yet!

RICK: Phu--well that's hardly the point, is it?

NEIL: But it was an accident, Rick, I mean, I just looked at it and it blew up, Rick! Well there's still some on the wall, maybe we could save some of it...

NEIL: ...and get some portions together for supper, then. 

MIKE: Let's do something, we're bored stupid.

VYVYAN: Ha ha, Rick didn't have far to go, did he?

RICK: I just knew you were gonna say that.

VYVYAN: That's a complete lie, you poof.

RICK: I knew you were gonna say that too!

VYVYAN: You didn't know I was gonna do that, did you?

RICK: All right, Vyvyan, no, I didn't know that, no.

MIKE: We're bored stupid and now we got nothin' to eat. I think the time has come for us to go down to the pub.


BUTTER: Darling carrot... could you ever love a cripple? 

CARROT: No... I don't think so.


NEIL: I'll tell you somewhere else I've never been.

RICK: Where?

NEIL: Down.

    [Behind them, a burgler drags a screaming old woman out of her house.]

NEIL: Which one are we going to?

MIKE: Down the Kebab.

VYVYAN: Doner kebab? I've already eaten.

RICK: Oh shut up.

    [Behind them, a tent displays a sign reading "Free Money And Sex". A hand emerges from the entrance and beckons.]
    [The band finishes playing and the crowd applauds just as MIKE, NEIL, VYVYAN and RICK enter The Kebab And Calculator]

MIKE: Hey, is there a band on tonight?

MEMBERS OF BAND: No, no. No. No. 

NEIL: Why not?

MEMBERS OF BAND: Electricity. {other garbled reasons}

RICK: Do, uh, do any of you lot know "Summer Holiday" by Cliff Richard?

LEAD SINGER: You hum it, I'll smash your face in.

RICK: I'll go sit over there.

VYVYAN: Amazing, isn't it? It's an embarrasment.

    [All four sit down at a table. They sit for a moment, arms folded.]

NEIL: Well, just as I expected, totally boring.

RICK: Yes, the service is terrible too! WAITER! WAI-TER! You! Woman!

    [The woman gives RICK the two-fingered salute.]

VYVYAN: Look, it's all right, lads. I stole some money from Rick's bedroom this morning, so I'll get these. Ah, what would you like, Rick?

RICK: Coffee, please, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: This is a pub. They don't do coffee.

RICK: Oh, in that case, I don't particularly want anything, thank you, I don't think it's very clever or smart to drink, actually, I want to stay in control.


MIKE: Water, Vyvyan. In a straight glass.

RICK: Uh-huh. Uh, Neil?

NEIL: Uh, oh, just a bag of crisps, please, Vyv, but, uh, not meat-flavored, because I don't abuse my body in the world I live in.

VYVYAN: Okay, I want a pint of water in a straight glass, ah, a bag of roast ox crisps, and, uh, mine's a Babycham.

BARMAID: Hello, Vyvyan.

VYVYAN: Oh. Hello, mum.

BARMAID: Fancy seeing you here. I didn't know you lived in London.

VYVYAN: Yeah, yeah... 'Ow's dad?

BARMAID: Oh honestly, Vyvyan, I do wish you wouldn't ask me that. You know I've absolutely no idea who he is!

RICK: Well, Vyvyan! You never told us your mother was a bartender!

VYVYAN: Well she was a shoplifter when I knew her!

NEIL: She doesn't look strong enough.


NEIL: To lift shops.

BARMAID: That'll be twenty-eight pounds fifty, Vyvyan. 

VYVYAN: I've only got a fiver.

    [VYVYAN holds out his money; she snatches it and stuffs it into her shirt.]

BARMAID: I''ll 'ave the ring and the watch.

    [She takes VYVYAN's ring and watch as well, also putting those in her shirt. She then brings the tray to their table.]

BARMAID: Well aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?

VYVYAN: Oh yeah. Uh, this is a friend of mine called Mike... uh... this is a friend of mine called Neil...

NEIL: Hello.

VYVYAN: And that's a complete bastard I know called Rick. 

RICK: He's just joshing, Mrs. Vyvyan, we're actually terrific friends.

BARMAID: Ooh-ah. He is a bastard, isn't he?

RICK: Tell me, Mrs. Vyvyan... why did you give him a girl's name?

    [VYVYAN lunges out and pushes RICK into the floor.]

BARMAID: Now, dear, why don't you come over here and tell me what you've been doing for the last ten years.

VYVYAN: Okay, mum!

BARMAID: Not you... zitface! Him!

    [She grabs MIKE and drags him to another table.]

MIKE: Hey Vyv! Vyv!

    [VYVYAN merrily waves him off. NEIL opens his bag of crisps, and the bag explodes.]

NEIL: I knew I should have stayed at home.


    [GOLDILOCKS is snooping around. She enters the house.]
    [GOLDILOCKS tiptoes past the old man on the sofa, and the military man sitting at the kitchen table, to find three bowls of food on the table. She tastes one, and spits it out. She tastes the second one, and spits it out.]


    [She tastes the third one and spits it out even more forcefully than the other two.]

GOLDILOCKS: Ugh. Bloody hippy food.

    [She tiptoes out again.]

RICK: Are you coming, Mike, or are you still talking to the old bag about your herpes!

    [The BARMAID suddenly looks uncomfortable.]

MIKE: Excuse me, Mrs. Vyvyan.

    [He gets up and the four exit the pub.]

RICK: ...well, it's perfectly simple, Neil. It's because you're conservative.

NEIL: Well I think pubs are bourgeois.

RICK: Out of the way. Ready, Mike?

MIKE: All right. Let's go.


    [Two policemen are standing guard.]

COP #1: 'Course you see, I look at life like this. 

COP #2: Why's that? Problems?

COP #1: Yeah. Had a heavy bust-up this morning with my lady.

COP #2: W. P. C...?

COP #1: Dunno, I never could remember her name... umm... it's got a four in it, it's got a four, 'cause I remember, it was a round one, like that. 

COP #2: Has it got a tail?

COP #1: Yeah.

COP #2: That's a Q.

COP #1: Yeah?

COP #2: Yeah. Pretty sure.

COP #1: We'd been goin' out 'kin years.

COP #2: How long? COP #1: 'kin years...I reckon if I played me cards right, I could've, you know...

COP #2: Kneed her in the groin?

COP #1: No, the other one.

COP #2: Slept with her?

COP #1: Yeah.

COP #2: Yeah.

COP #1: I reckon I could have slept with her, if it wasn't for something I said. But we had a row, and uh... I said something about the Pope.

COP #2: That's a bit stupid, you know she's Catholic.

COP #1: Yeah, I know she's Catholic, I didn't know the Pope was.

COP #2: Heh. That's a laugh, eh, ain't it?

COP #1: What?

COP #2: That noise you make in the back of your throat when you hear a joke.

COP #1: Yeah, that's a laugh. 

COP #2: 

    [The shot of the cops freezes and expands, as it becomes a photo on the front page of The Guardian, which RICK is reading. The headline says, "POLICE I.Q. SHOCKER".]
    [RICK and MIKE are sitting at the kitchen table. VYVYAN is sitting on the arm of the sofa. NEIL is sitting cross-legged in the floor, meditating.]

RICK: Huh. You know what? There are now more tin cans than there are people.

NEIL: Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn....

VYVYAN: Neil? Do you want to see my new trick?

    [NEIL doesn't answer.]

VYVYAN: Uh, Mike? Mike, do you want to see my new trick? 

MIKE: No, I'm busy with the paper.


RICK: No, I don't, Vyvyan, I've got something more important to think about, actually.

NEIL: Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....

VYVYAN: Look! Watch my trick, you bastards, or I'll kill you!

    [VYVYAN slices off his "fake finger" with a knife, but it's a real finger he hits, and blood starts spewing out.]

VYVYAN: Brilliant, eh? Oh dear. Wrong finger. Aaahhhh... ahhh....

    [VYVYAN staggers upstairs. NEIL finds the finger on the floor.]

NEIL: Hey, Vyvyan? Vyvyan? I think you cut off one of your fingers...!

RICK: Hey, listen to this! Under the new ruling, all a student needs to qualify for an increased grant is a "nmkl pjkl ftmch," from the local authority.

NEIL: What was that, Rick?

RICK: A "nmkl pjkl ftmch". Don't you ever read the Guardian, Neil?

NEIL: What's a "ftmch"?

    [The demon FTUMCH appears. No one appears to see him.]

FTUMCH: Now I've got three minutes.

RICK: Eh, it doesn't seem to make any sense. It--Neil? Have you just farted?

    [NEIL looks at his own crotch.]

NEIL: No, I don't think so, Rick, no.

RICK: Well, there's a horrible farty smell in here, and it's definitely not from my bottom!

    [FTUMCH causes an object to fall from above the cabinets, but RICK gets up and walks away just in time for it to miss]

FTUMCH: Knackers.

RICK: Well, I'm going to the drawing room, this is worse than cattle business! 

    [RICK walks into the living room and sits down just as FTUMCH tosses a butcher knife at him. It whizzes above his head and sticks in the opposite wall.]

RICK: Ah. That's better.

FTUMCH: Knackers.

NEIL: Was it you that farted, Mike?

MIKE: Who can tell, Neil? I'm a strange guy.

    [FTUMCH gets some battery cables.]

FTUMCH: I'll deal with that spotty herbert later. Oh look, a little girl, huh. Meditate on this.

    [FTUMCH shocks NEIL by putting the ends of the cables on either side of his head. NEIL quivers for a few seconds, eyes rolling, as if he's being jolted.]

NEIL: Hey! I just a great idea! Why don't we go and see a film? Yes! Yes, let's go and see a film! Uh, where's the local paper, Mike? 

MIKE: It's in the local paper shop, Neil, where d'you think? 

NEIL: Right!

    [FTUMCH throws a skewer at NEIL; it lodges itself neatly through the middle of NEIL's head.]

NEIL: Hey Rick?

RICK: Yes?

NEIL: I'm just going down the local paper shop, okay?

    [NEIL exits. RICK's reaction is one of puzzlement.]
    [NEIL emerges. He pulls out the skewer with an audible squeaking noise.]

NEIL: That's funny, I don't remember ramming a skewer into my head.

    [He walks off. FTUMCH emerges from the doorway, after him.]

FTUMCH: I don't believe it.


    [A man emerges from a Ford Tippex dressed in a suit and tie. He walks toward the boys' home. We don't see his face. When NEIL passes him, he turns and glances back at him.]
    [The man is wearing gloves. He rings the doorbell. Immediately after, a policeman wearing sunglasses confidently strides up to him.]

COP: Ho ho ho. Hahahahaha. Well, Mr. Sambo Darkie Coon, I've got your number. You're nicked. 

    [We see the man's face. He's clearly white.]

MAN: Is there anything the matter, officer?

COP: Ho ho ho, oh dear me. Don't we talk lovely, Mr. Rastus Chocolate Drop. Now listen here, son. I've done a weekend's training with the S.A.S. I could pull both your arms off and leave no trace of violence. Lord Scarman need never know.

MAN: What seems to be the trouble, officer?

    [The MAN rings the doorbell again.]

COP: That's white man's electricity you're burnin', ringin' that bell. That's theft. I've got your number, so hold out your hands.

MAN: Officer, I represent Kellogg's Corn Flakes car competition. I--

    [The COP removes his sunglasses and sees the man for the first time.]

COP: Oh. Sorry, John. I thought you was a nigger. Now, Sir, carry on.

    [He quickly exits. Just then, FTUMCH appears in a cloud of smoke.]

MAN: Hey! Guess what, kid? You've won a new Ford Tippex.

DISEMBODIED VOICE: Come in, Ftumch! Your time is up.

FTUMCH: I think you've got the wrong house.

    [A machine gun appears in FTUMCH's arms, and he uses it to shoot the MAN with a hail of bullets. Both the MAN and FTUMCH then disappear in a cloud of smoke. We see the COP getting into the Ford Tippex.]

COP: What a piece of luck.

    [He drives off in it, as NEIL walks up to the house.]
    [MIKE and VYVYAN are sitting at the table. RICK is sitting on the sofa holding his copy of the Guardian around his head.]

VYVYAN: God... what a boring day.

    [NEIL enters.]

NEIL: I went to the local paper shop, but they didn't have a local paper!

MIKE: Well they obviously don't come from this area, Neil. 

NEIL: Hey, guys. Tomorrow... why don't we, as just as a suggestion, why don't we try... going into college?

    [At the suggestion, MIKE and VYVYAN look aghast. RICK, face unseen, crumbles his newspaper even more tightly around his head.]

MIKE: Now, Neil. Now, listen. Things may be bad, but there's no need to panic. No no no, I'm just gonna treat this problem like my mattress. And sleep on it. Good night.

    [MIKE walks upstairs.]
    [Everyone is in bed; the room is dark.]
    [NEIL is sitting on his windowsill looking outside.]
    [Three bears creep inside, and examine the food on the table.]

PAPA BEAR: Who's been gobbing in my lentils?

MAMA BEAR & BABY BEAR: Yes! Who's been gobbing in our lentils?

PAPA BEAR: Sod it. Let's go to McDonald's.


    [They exit.]
    [The three bears scamper across the front of the house. The camera rises to reveal NEIL sitting on his windowsill, and, still higher, a flying saucer comes to sit just above the roof of the house, with lights and noises.]